authorsnote: ty to everyone who's been reading, following, faving and reviewing, I appreciate it! I do hope you're enjoying this story, I have most of it mapped out now and I realised it is going to be a long one! so let's go full throttle ahead!

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songrecs: the archer - taylor swift

She was tired.

Tired in a way she'd never been tired. Yes, she'd lost countless nights of sleep in King's Landing, had stayed awake night after night, eyes on the canopy, unable to sleep, nightmares waiting to drag her down. She'd smothered down yawns at breakfast, had dark baggy circles under her eyes, and had often felt exhausted, but nothing like this.

As she finally, finally reaches the gates of Castle Black she feels like she might drop from her horse. Three days of riding, with snatched hours of rest on the way, shivering in her bed roll with a blanket, and she feels like if she has to take another step she'll fall over and not get back up.

But she feels triumphant as she approaches the gates, as she sees the famous Castle Black before her. She made it! Part of her had doubted herself. As she shivered in the dark beneath the shadow of the Wall, as she feared she'd freeze in her sleep but failed to build a fire, as she limited herself to meagre amounts of food to conserve her few provisions, she wasn't sure she'd make it.

But she's here, she made it and she feels strong. Part of her had thought she'd be stuck in King's Landing forever, but she made it out, no one rescued her, no one saved her, she did it herself, and she made it, alone.

'I have gone from porcelain, to ivory, to steel'

She feels proud of herself for the first time in a long while, she feels a warmth in her chest of pride, of happiness, something that had become foreign to her, and as the gates open with a groan she is smiling.

Her smile soon slips from her features though, as she is confronted with the truth of her sanctuary.

She is still convinced this was the right move, to come North, home, to flee to Jon, and yet as she trots her tired mule through the gates and see's the stares of the men, all in black, like a flock of crows, her smile is long gone, and her eyes desperately search for Jon.

Jon.

When she can't see him, she worries he's not here, that he's out ranging or worse perhaps. She gulps down the nerves in her stomach, her eyes searching, desperately, for the men here are thieves, rapers, all manner of awful, she needs Jon.

"Sansa?"

She hears her voice, and she immediately turns her head, and sees him.

Jon.

No wonder she couldn't find him, he looks so different and yet she should have noticed him, he looks like a true Stark. Grey eyes, dark curly hair, a rough beard, the Northern look about him. He has several scratches on his face, and that brooding look hasn't disappeared, though he looks shocked now, but it is him, it is Jon.

"Jon?" She responds, and in her eagerness, she almost falls from her horse, to throw herself into his arms. She almost falls but steadies herself, and then she is swept up in his embrace.

He grips her tightly, so tightly, and it takes everything in her not to sob in front of this flock of crows. His arms around her are strong, sure, and she clutches him with every ounce of strength she has. She presses her nose to the skin of his neck, and he cradles the back of her head, holds her, as she grasps at him.

She is here, Jon is here, she is safe. She almost breaks down crying just at that realisation.

After months of being held hostage, of being taunted, mocked, beaten, ridiculed, hurt and abused, after believing King's Landing would become her graveyard, after being so sure she was stuck forever, to die in the awful place they'd taken her father from her, she is free, she is free and she is with Jon, she is safe.

He will keep her safe, of that she has no doubt, and yet as someone clears their throat behind them, she realises…

Jon will keep her safe, she trusts him, but his brothers? The crows? Can he keep her safe from them?

"Who's this then Snow?" A bitter looking man spits out, he looks angry, his lips thinned into a frown. He takes a step forward and she can see he is in charge here, or at least fancies himself in charge, and she can also see that he does not like her brother, that is clear in his nasty glare and the tension in him as he crosses his arms.

She reads him well, and she knows that's from her time in King's Landing. Perhaps one good thing came from her time in that awful City, in that she has found she can read people better now. She can train her sapphire blue eyes on them and understand them in a way. She may not like the lies and politics that King's Landing had tried to install in her, but she can appreciate this skill.

"One of your wildling whores?" The nasty looking man spits out and Sansa gasps. She realises she'll need to get used to coarse language and men like this but even in King's Landing she was treated like a Lady, here she'll have no such courtesy.

Still she'd rather spend the rest of her days being treated like a commoner in the North, than ever return to Kings Landing.

She can see Jon is outraged on her behalf and goes to take a step forward, only she places a hand on his arm, and he looks back at her and she shakes her head. He nods at her then, but levels a glare at the bitter man, and spits out his words at him, "No, this is the Lady Sansa Stark" Just those words have the men reeling in shock.

Sansa wasn't sure they should have told these men who she is, though she knows they are his brothers, she would have been more careful, Jon does not have her caution, though she is glad of that, she hopes he hasn't suffered as much as she has.

"Aye?" The man asks, and Jon nods, still glaring, having stepped in front of her now, though she is only an inch shy of his height, he looks to shield her and that warms her, coming to Jon she had never doubted he'd protect her, here she is proven right, she hadn't doubted it, Jon will keep her safe. "And what is she doing here?"

"I…" She starts to speak but Jon shakes his head and she falls quiet, she trusts him, and she trusts he knows what to say to his brother's better than she does.

"She's fled a hostage situation" Sansa winces at Jon's honesty but she trusts him, if he feels the truth is the best thing then she'll follow along. Part of her also recognises that the truth very well may be the correct move, but coming from Kings Landing? It never was. She hasn't seen people trade truths in a very long time.

"Right" The sour man speaks, though it doesn't sound like he thinks it's 'right'. In fact he makes it look like it all seems wrong. "But you didn't answer my question Snow" The way he spits out her brother's name makes her frown, "What is she doing here?"

"I'm her only kin" Jon says furiously and her heart swells at his words, his tone, she knew he'd protect her, she knew that from the second she decided to go to him, but as she looks at his brothers, she's not sure she'll be safe here.

"Okay" The bitter man speaks, "But you're also a brother of the Nights Watch" Sansa feels herself tremble a little as she realises where this is going, "And family, girls, aren't welcome here" He trains his glare on her then, and years of Joffrey keeps her gaze up, just.

Part of her wants to instinctively duck her head in fear, but years of being beaten down has installed some strength in her spine, and she refuses to budge her gaze, even though she trembles a little.

"I know but..." Jon begins, but she can see before he brings his argument, it is lost.

"No buts" The man spits, glaring furiously at her brother, what quarrel had they held to look at one another with venom? Sansa realises then as she looks across at the man, it's not even quarrel, he is jealous, resentful, cruel.

She has grown good at reading people thanks to Kings Landing, all it takes is a look of her well-trained eye and she can see what others miss. With Jon he is all brooding passion, with this bitter man he is also resentment and ego.

She won't be allowed to stay here.

"You'll show the girl out the way she came" Sansa flinches then, she had thought … hoped this would be a place of safety, and she had been right in a sense, it is not Jon's fault she is not welcome, he does want to keep her safe as she had thought, but his brothers have no such honour.

It is odd, to think of these men dressed in black as Jon's brothers, what of Robb? Bran? Rickon? Well Jon left them behind to join the Watch, not that she blames him, but it is strange all the same.

"It's okay Jon" She whispers, placing a hand on his arm. It is most certainly not okay of course, but she doesn't want Jon to get in trouble, not for her. "It's okay"

Her murmur of reassurance does nothing, as she watches Jon turn back to his brothers. She feels warmed that he won't go down without a fight, but she knows it is pointless, she can see that here.

But before he can open his mouth, she can see another man enter the courtyard, the oldest man she might have ever seen, and when he speaks, they all listen.

"Now, now Ser Allister" Sansa wrinkles her nose as the bitter man's face is given a name, she recognises the name, and understands his bitterness, he is only at the Wall because he fought for the losing side, the side her father backed, she can see now where his anger at Jon comes from, even if it is misplaced.

"We won't throw the girl out in the cold" Her heart leaps then and Jon turns to look at her, hope fresh on his face, perhaps she is saved … well, until the old man speaks his next words, and she berates herself for hoping.

Hope had been long dead to her in Kings Landing, she has to remember that even at the far-flung corners of the world, hope is in short supply.

"For one night" She can see the disappointment on Jon's face, but she takes his hand, threads her fingers through his, and squeezes his hand. He seems reassured by that, but still speaks up.

"But Maester Aemon" Another name she recognises, but one far more worthy of acknowledgment, Aemon, once in line to the Throne, a Targaryen.

"No buts Jon Snow" He speaks, Sansa can hear the wisdom in his voice, she just wishes said wisdom would allow her to stay, "Yes we may offer respite to an individual for one night, we are not cruel" Even though the old Maester can't see, Sansa can see his gaze fix on the bitter Ser Allister, "But we cannot allow her to stay beyond that"

"I…" Jon begins again, but Sansa squeezes his hand, she doesn't want him to get in trouble here, and she can see, there is no hope. She will not be allowed to stay.

Perhaps she should have gone to the Eyrie, or Dorne, or ran to the far-flung corners of the world, but no… it was worth it, to see him again.

'Oh how it would be sweet, to see him again'

"It's okay" She murmurs again, "It's okay" Again that seems to soothe him, she feels warm that her words help him, and he nods at her. In Kings Landing she was no help to anyone, it is nice to know she can help Jon, even if she won't be able to for long.

Of course, it is not okay, but what else can she say? The older man, Maester Aemon, he has spoken, and though the cruel man looks as though he wants to throw her and Jon off the Wall, even he listens to the Maester.

The decision is made.

Perhaps she can go to Mole Town, or perhaps she can hide somewhere in the North? She's not sure, but for the moment she doesn't want to think of what comes next. The future is uncertain, and she knows she needs to figure that out, determine what comes next, but not now, not for the moment.

Instead she looks at Jon, she is allowed to stay for one night, and she intends to spend every second with Jon before they are parted.

The Stark pack is meant to be together, like wolves that run collectively, but they are being torn apart again, the pack ripped apart. She'd cry and scream at the injustice if she weren't so used to it by now.

"Come on Jon" She squeezes his arm with her hand, "Can we rest in your room?" He nods, and takes her hand in his, his hand is cold, but hers is warm, and turns his back on his brothers.

A selfish part of her wishes he could do that permanently, to stay with her, but she knows Jon, knows he holds their father's honour and would never do such a thing. He would never abandon his brothers or the cause he has pledged his life too, not even for her.

It is odd, that she feels sad to see such honour. She had missed the Northern honour in Kings Landing, but now for a moment she resents it. Still, she won't resent Jon, not when he'd tried, not when he was all she had left.

As he leads her to his room, she determines she'll bask in this day, and then … then, she'll figure out what comes next.

Sansa is sleeping soundly when he figures out what to do.

They had spent hours together before night had fallen and Sansa's eyes had begun to droop. First, they'd swapped stories, and it was harder to determine who had the sadder tale. Jon was determined it was Sansa, for she had endured much in King's Landing, but when he told his tale, when he got to the part about Ygritte Sansa had tears swimming in her eyes and had hugged him for so long he'd near choked up himself.

After that they'd talked about Winterfell, about childhood, a million stupid little things that they had taken for granted.

'Old Nan's pies' 'Rickon throwing a hunk of bread and hitting Theon square in the eye' 'Robb kissing Alys Karstark and being in a dreamlike state for a week', 'Jon jumping out at them in the crypts covered in flour, Arya punching him whilst Sansa ran away'. A million things that they'd noticed in passing but now cherished.

After that they'd eaten and Sansa had tried to apologise for her behaviour towards him, he hadn't let her at first but begrudgingly accepted the apology he didn't feel she needed to give. But then a weight had lifted in her eyes when he'd accepted, and he'd pulled her closer.

Now, Sansa slept soundly, though a little fitfully, tossing and turning a little, and of course he knew why.

She was terrified of what was to come tomorrow when she had to leave … alone.

But then, Jon couldn't, no wouldn't let her leave alone.

He knows he can't stay here, not if it means throwing Sansa out into the cold. Yes, he has made vows, and yes, he risks execution if he leaves, but he knows he has to stand by his family.

As Sansa sleeps and he contemplates abandoning his brothers, he thinks of his father.

Eddard Stark, a man of honour until the end, and yet his honour led to his death. Jon had always been taught to put honour before anything else, to regard it with such importance everything else paled in comparison, and yet as he looks at Sansa, sleeping on his bed, with a crinkle of worry between her eyebrows, he knows there is something more important.

Family.

Hell, even the Tully's placed family before honour, and Jon knows he has to as well, he knows he must, this time, and every time now, family must come first.

So, he'll leave the Wall, he'll risk death, he'll besmirch his honour, as he cannot leave Sansa, he won't.

What would she do? He had debated placing her in Mole's Town, but he could visit maybe once a month, and then she'd be pressured, and in danger if any of the Northern Lords make the trip to visit the Wall. He wondered about placing her somewhere in the North, but who can be trusted?

They can't trust anyone, except for each other, hence he can't leave her.

He doesn't even want to leave here, for he made a vow, and he knows what is coming. The Wildlings march on the Wall, he should be here to stop them, he should be here to fight. The fight is coming, it will be bloody and brutal, and he should be here for it.

But he can't.

Then he thinks of Commander Mormont, of the men at Craster's Keep, of how the Wildlings will learn of the abysmal state of the Watch and then throw everything at them. He had already started to form a plan as Gren and Ed spoke, to lead a mission, to avenge their Commander, to kill the mutineers, buy the Watch some time.

But how can he do that now if it means abandoning his kin?

Really, he has a choice here, abandon the Watch or abandon Sansa.

He knows which one he'll choose.

His brothers had stopped him marching South to go to Robb and he is thankful, for there was much he needed to learn here, much he needed to experience, and by leaving he knows he'll miss out on more, but Robb died in the South, and Jon couldn't help but always think if he had been there then perhaps it could have been different.

And so, he cannot think that again with Sansa. He knows if he abandons her, and she turns up hurt or dead that he'll never forgive himself, their father would never forgive him, wherever he may be now. He may have to sacrifice his own personal honour, but he will do so to protect Sansa.

He thinks and hopes that their father would be proud of that, that even though he may have to sacrifice his honour he is doing it for an honourable cause, for family, for kin, for Sansa.

But the real question is, where do they go?

The South is obviously out of the question, but then he thinks, so is the North. They don't know who they can trust, no Northern house will accept him as Eddard Stark's son, for he is just a bastard, and Sansa? Yes, she is trueborn, the heir to Winterfell, and so he knows presenting her to any house in the North would likely see her married off.

So, no the North was also out of the question, so where could they go?

He honestly has no idea.

"Worrying?" He hears Sansa's voice then, he isn't sure how she woke, but he knows as she sits up, dark circles under her eyes it is likely from her time in Kings Landing.

He can't imagine what she had gone through, even after explaining it to him, and he hates that he couldn't help her, rescue her. They may not have been close as children, hell, they didn't even treat one another like siblings, but she is kin, he should have been there to protect her.

He may not have been, but he will protect her now, he will, even if it means fleeing to the other side of the world.

Sansa can see it written across his face, the worry lines, the brooding, it reminds her so much of Jon in Winterfell she almost cries at the familiar sight. Winterfell is long gone, burnt, and taken over by the Bolton's, but seeing Jon as he was then … it oddly reminds her of home.

It isn't hard to guess what he is brooding over.

He is stuck here, bound to a vow made to his brother's here, and he is Eddard Stark's son, he won't abandon them. But she cannot stay here, not for the first time over the past year does she curse her gender. She'd heard Cersei lament on it a few times, 'if only I were born a man', and had never really sympathised with that view, not until Joffrey had abused her and she wished to be stronger, and now she is being thrown out in the cold. If she were Jon's brother rather than sister she could stay, but no, she cannot.

She is trying to stay strong; she wants to crumple and cry, she wants to sob and beg Jon to run with her, but she can't. She can't do that to him when she knows he has to stay here, and so she'll be strong, as she had to be in King's Landing, she has enough practice now, it is not so hard to fake. She can be strong here, and maybe be weak when she leaves … just for a moment before she's forced to be strong again.

"I can't abandon you" He breaks into her thoughts and just those words have her bottom lip trembling before she bites the inside of her cheek hard to stop any tears.

"It's not your fault" Part of her resents that he won't run for her, but only a small part, she knows he can't and so she isn't angry that he can't leave for her, she understands, even though she doesn't like it. It's not Jon's fault.

"I can't" He says again, and hangs his head then, she sits up in the bed, takes a seat next to him and rests her head on his shoulder, he then rests his on top of hers. They are comfortable then, for several minutes, no words needed, just finding comfort in one another.

She has to be strong, but she hasn't had a friendly person nearby, someone to bring her comfort in so, so long, and the idea of that being ripped away … she can't help the tear that trickles down her cheek.

Before she can wipe it away Jon does, his thumb swipes it away, and he lingers just for a second, she leans into it, to the comfort, which is so foreign to her now, and more tears fall. She wants to be strong, but she has had to be for so long, it is so hard, especially here, with Jon, one of the last few people in the worlds she trusts, it is hard to stay stoic, it is hard to stay strong when it is all she has known for too long.

"I can't" He repeats, and she drops her gaze, for the tears won't stop, not when she knows what's to come, that she'll be alone … again.

"I won't" It sounds like a promise, but one she knows he can't keep; she doesn't want him to make it when he can't keep it.

"Jon…" She starts but he shakes his head and pulls her into a hug, she grips onto him, she doesn't want to let go, not now, not ever. She grips at him like a drowning woman on a raft, like a falling man on a mountain. She doesn't want to let go.

"I need to go to Craster's" He starts, and she has no idea what that is, but she waits, listens, "I have to give the Watch a chance, I have to if I won't be here for the fight, I have to give them a chance" He nods then, and she feels a stutter of hope in her heart when she sees how sure he looks. She doesn't want to hope, not when it could be snatched away.

"Then we'll run" He nods again, and her hands tighten on where she clutches at his tunic, that hope stuttering again, "We'll run, and hide, and I'll take care of you, I promise"

"Jon… I" She begins, but what can she say? She knows she should try and dissuade him, but she doesn't want to, she can't bring herself to say the words that would make him change his mind.

"No" He cuts her off before she can say anything else, "I won't abandon you, not now, not ever" He places his chin atop her head then, as he holds her, as she holds him, a firm embrace, "We'll run"

The tears start again, but this time they of relief, that the hope doesn't need to be extinguished, that she won't be alone. The tears fall, and they don't stop, not as she and Jon clutch at one another, as they hold on, long into morning.

They have much to discuss, to figure out, but for now they just hold onto one another, not moving, not letting go, not until morning comes.

sooo thoughts?

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