authorsnote: wooooo, jonsa time.

*cough cough* anywho, do enjoy, I really enjoyed writing this chapter, and hopefully you enjoyed reading it! do let me know.

songrecs: betty - taylor swift (basically all of my song recs for the next 4-5 months will be from either folklore or evermore srry).

She had expected it to be cold, but not this cold.

On her journey to Castle Black she had shivered, she had trembled, she had shaken with how cold it was. She had thought of Winterfell, how as cold as it was it had never been this cold. The hot springs beneath the Castle had kept it warmer, and even in the North there had been sun (sometimes), it hadn't been as frigid as here, nowhere had been as bad as here.

And yet somehow it had gotten worse.

She has trembled in a blanket as she had ridden next to Jon, but now, as they approached the Haunted Forest (and she had gulped when they had entered it, remembering Old Nans stories about the Others, wights, giants and ice spiders), she didn't tremble, but only because she felt she might have frozen to her horse.

Thankfully, the Nights Watch furs as shabby as they were, were warm, but it was still a cold she had never known. Jon had laughed as he looked across at her, just before they'd come to the trees, and she'd been sure she heard whistling through them.

"You'll adjust quickly" He promised, both smiling in a kind mockery but with a hint of concern, she'd nodded and pulled her cloak closer; she didn't want to be weak, or a burden, it was just cold, she'd adjust, as Jon had said.

'I am a Stark of Winterfell; I can be brave'

No. She would be brave.

She forgot about the cold some as they entered the Haunted Forest.

Haunted was an apt word. It was dark under the cover of the trees, with their gnarled branches and twisted trunks. She could see an abandoned spot or two, wildlings? She hadn't expected them this close to the Wall. She was suddenly thankful for the dagger Jon had given her, even if she had no idea how to use it.

"How far is Crasters?" She asked, keeping her voice down. The brothers hadn't asked who she was when Jon had gruffly said she was a new recruit, but she had noticed one of them – Locke was it? Watching her a touch closer, it made her uneasy, and she stuck close to Jon.

"About 55 miles" Jon said with a nod as he trotted forward, "It will take us about a day and a half, 2 if we stop"

"Will we stop?" She asked, again looking nervously over at Locke. She had noticed him watching her once she had joined the group, but not leering, not eyeing her as men in Kings Landing had … no, this was something else, and that made her all the more uneasy.

Her time at Kings Landing had made her able to read people a lot easier. Men leering at her? That she knew. But Locke? With almost a smile on his lips, and those dark eyes constantly flickering to her? That she couldn't read, and that was worrisome.

"We'll have to, don't want to kill the horses" He said with a nod, "And stop looking at him"

"You noticed?" She said with a little gasp, thankfully quiet enough, though Jon did glance over his shoulder, though covered it by nodding at another of his brothers. He was good she realised, she could tell he didn't like to lie, to hide, just as their Father hadn't, but Jon could, unlike Father.

"Yes, I notice a lot" He said, and Sansa realised then that he did, as he reached down to place a hand on his sword, "I'll keep you safe Sansa" He looked at her then, and the genuine earnestness in his eyes near made her own eyes water … it had been a long time since she had seen that look on well … anyone.

"I know" She said with a small smile before nudging her horse forward, for she did know, she knew Jon would keep her safe, just as she would do her best to do the same for him. They would keep each other safe.

"Just stay close to me" He said, a grim expression on his face, she nodded at that as they picked up a pace, the other of Jon's brothers following, he didn't have to tell her twice, she'd stick by his side, as though a glove.

They picked up a pace through the Haunted Forest, and as creepy as it was thankfully they didn't come across anything nefarious. One of Jon's brother shot a rabbit, and another handed her a water skin with a grunt. It continued to get colder, and she smiled at Jon as he handed her a spare cloak.

It was strangely uneventful for a while, considering they were Beyond the Wall.

Beyond the Wall … she had never thought she'd end up here. She wondered what her Mother would think, Robb would probably laugh himself silly at the idea! She imagined Cersei, face twisted, shocked she had been brave enough to flee to such a hostile place, Tyrion likely would have laughed, if Tywin had heard this in a report he likely wouldn't have believed it. She felt a swell of pride again that she had escaped the capital; she had made it to Jon, by herself, and now here she was! Ranging Beyond the Wall!

Perhaps she was brave …

She liked to think Arya would smile, pester her with a dozen questions, Bran would also, tugging at her skirt, her Father would be worried but she liked to imagine he'd be proud, proud that she'd rescued herself. She smiled across at Jon then, she didn't need to imagine what he thought, she'd seen the pride on his face when she'd told him what she'd endured, along with worry and concern, but pride.

"You're strong" He'd whispered to her as they held one another after swapping tales.

Perhaps she was…

"Sansa" She was shook out of her thoughts then as Jon spoke, and she turned to him with a small smile, pulling her cloaks closer. It was truly cold, and yet Jon didn't seem too bothered, it seemed one did get used to it, not that she could imagine ever getting used to such a chill, though it didn't seem to bother Jon at all.

She did notice though some of his brothers still shivered, none handled it like Jon who barely even seemed to notice it.

She looked ahead then as he nodded his head in that direction and she gasped unable to hold it back. There was a settlement.

"What is this?" She asked, she had clearly let her mind drift, and she tugged her horse closer to Jon's as they approached the village.

Though as they got closer she could see 'village' was a generous word, this looked like a burnt out shell of a village, a wreckage, it couldn't be home to anyone anymore, and she shivered as she thought of what could have done this, to this place. Sure, it was likely no Winterfell to begin with, but this was decimation. What could have done this?

"It is called Whitetree" Jon said, and nodded his head as his brothers moved on ahead, dismounting their horses, "Look"

She managed not to gasp then but her mouth near fell open as she looked forward at what the village had been named for. A Weirwood tree, huge, perhaps bigger than the one in the Winterfell Godswood, certainly bigger than any other tree she'd seen. It was gnarled, twisted, huge. She felt so small in comparison, like a bug would feel to her.

"It's amazing" She knew she was speaking in awe, and Jon nodded as he nudged his horse forward, reaching for her reigns to tug hers forward, clearly noting she was distracted and so leading her ahead.

"Aye" He said as he came to a stop then, just inside the village, "Shame the village isn't anymore"

"What happened here?" She asked as she managed to tear her gaze from the Weirwood, back to the village that wasn't really a village anymore. She could see there was no evidence of a fire, the snow having buried it, but clearly houses here had been put to torch, and more perhaps.

"Not sure" He said as he dismounted his horse, she followed suit as he tied their horses to the same post, "Used to be a Wildling village but it's been abandoned for years. Last time I came by here I refused to make camp, it unsettled me, but we'll need to, to make it to Crasters in good time, as much as I don't like it"

"What if whatever destroyed the village comes back?" She asked her eyes flickering then, looking over the burnt out houses, where brothers were now making camp, using what little shielding was left to set up a place to rest for the night.

"If they do" He sighed then, looking over at the village, "Then the mutineers at Crasters are the least of our problems" He looked grim then, and in that moment he reminded her of her Father, so serious, so committed to his duty, and she felt that terrible pull of guilt for taking him away from it all, from his duty.

Still not enough to insist he stay though.

Perhaps some of her selfishness remained, so much of her had changed since leaving Winterfell, but perhaps she was still selfish. She didn't like that so much, but it was easier to accept than the idea of leaving Jon.

"Come on" He said then, breaking his gaze to look back at her, "Lets find somewhere to make a camp, we'll rest here for a few hours and then move on" He nodded, and she reached forward to take his hand. Thankfully, Locke wasn't in sight, but she regardless wasn't leaving Jon's side, and he clearly had no intention of leaving hers as he steered them to one of the more in-tact shelters.

His hand in hers felt like a comfort, as she followed him to a nearby house (though again house was generous, it was a husk but thankfully the roof and three walls remained standing), and she pulled closer to him.

She did feel guilt for taking him away from his duty, his brothers, but also … she couldn't imagine going on without him. She may have saved herself from Kings Landing and she would be forever aglow with pride for doing so, but she knew from now, she needed someone, she couldn't do it alone … she needed Jon.

It was easier to set the guilt aside when she imagined leaving him, how cold and empty it made her feel. She could ignore her guilt then when she knew she needed Jon with her.

She did, and as she glanced at him, so weighed down by duty, such a burden on his shoulders … she liked to imagine that perhaps he needed her too.

A few hours later and there was a bite to the air more so than before.

He'd wrapped three cloaks around Sansa and she'd finally managed to fall asleep, shivering, curled up next to him, her feet digging into his calf as he sat up, back against the shelter. She looked pale as snow as she huddled under the blankets, but thankfully she was sleeping.

It was an odd sight, to see Sansa, the girl who'd dreamed of Knights and tourneys and painted shields, shivering Beyond the Wall. He felt both conflicted he hadn't been able to prevent it, and proud that she was managing it.

She was clearly cold, tired, and scared, and yet she stood by his side, didn't complain, and had even promised to protect him, taking it all in stride and continuing on.

Out of the two, pride was winning out.

His mind was elsewhere though as well, he felt like he had a million things he had to focus on, and they were all at war with one another.

Protect Sansa.

Stop the Wildlings.

Keep Sansa safe.

Stop the Others.

Take Sansa away.

Protect his brothers.

Protect Sansa.

Part of him felt beholden to his duty, to remain at the Wall, stop the Wildlings, hell perhaps try to make peace with them, for he knew, he remembered Old Mormont's wise words, 'the true enemy'. They had a true enemy to face, and he felt his duty was to remain here, to stop them, the storm, the darkness, the Others.

But then, there was Sansa, who clearly had superseded all duty in his mind. Part of him knew he should stay here, fight, likely die, go down swinging for honour and duty, but now Sansa had shown up, and any thought of giving his life to protect the Wall was gone.

Aye, he'd still give his life if need be, but this time it was for Sansa.

He couldn't leave her, he couldn't. He'd sat out once before and now Father was dead, head from his shoulders, Robb was dead, dumped in the Riverland's, body desecrated, Bran and Rickon gone too, he shivered when he thought of such a fate for Sansa. He hadn't been able to prevent his brothers nor Fathers early demise, but he was sure as hell going to stop Sansa from meeting such a fate.

Another chill picked up in the air, but he knew it was normal, the cold barely bothered him anymore. He saw Sansa nudge closer and he let out a small sigh as he looked across the village, at brothers slumbering – bar one.

Likely Locke thought he couldn't see him, for he was tucked in such a way to be hidden back. And yet, he hadn't scouted, hadn't seen the slight tear in one of the coverings on the wall of their shack, which gave way to a crack in the wooden frame, revealing Locke, eyes on them, watching, waiting.

Waiting for what Jon didn't know, but he knew he wouldn't let him accomplish it.

It had been odd to see the man so readily volunteer for the mission, few would volunteer for this, let alone a new brother, new to the Wall. If he were generous, he would think it was for glory, or because he was committed to being a brother, but as Locke watched them, not realising he could see, as he sharpened his knife as he watched, Jon knew he wasn't here for the Watch, it was something else.

Something he'd need to figure out, to keep Sansa safe. And failing that, well he would just do the easier thing. To keep Sansa safe, he would.

With a small sigh he looked away from Locke, he knew the man wouldn't try anything here, there were too many brothers, too many people who may be sleeping but would be woken easily. Jon imagined he'd wait, wait perhaps for the battle at Crasters Keep for whatever he intended.

Jon had a good mind for tactics, it had been the easiest thing he'd picked up in Maester Luwin's lessons and at the Wall he had discovered he had a true talent for it, alongside swinging a sword. He knew Locke would wait until chaos had erupted whilst dealing with the mutineers to strike in whatever he intended with Sansa.

Jon felt his blood boil a little then, but took a deep breath to calm himself down, he couldn't lose his head, he had to remain calm if he wanted to keep Sansa safe and kill the mutineers.

"Jon?" He looked down then, at Sansa, eyes slowly opening, her lips almost blue. He had forgotten how harsh the cold was here, he was so used to it, but Sansa was showing him just how freezing it was Beyond the Wall, and it wasn't even snowing yet.

"Are you alright?" She asked gently and he offered her a small smile, he thought of how much more selfless she had become, asking him if he was okay whilst she shivered in an abandoned wildling camp. How she had changed.

Some for the good perhaps, but he would rather have her snotty and stuck-up if he could take away just what had made her a little kinder. Some experiences perhaps should be forgotten.

"I'm fine" He said with a nod, and leant down to pull the cloaks a little around her, "Get some more rest"

"What about you?" She asked then, shuffling a little closer to him, for warmth, and he complied, placing a hand on her back, rubbing up and down to offer both warmth and hopefully some level of comfort.

"I'll keep watch" He glanced sideways again then, Locke had gone into the shack, but Jon was no fool, the man likely couldn't hear their words but could hear talking. Jon knew he was listening in, thankfully the wind would muffle their words.

"Locke?" Sansa asked in a whisper, she was clever, but then Sansa always had been, that hadn't changed, perhaps she had gotten cleverer even.

He just nodded, and she shivered a little.

"I won't let anything happen to you" Another promise, and unlike his one to his brothers, one he intended to keep.

Protect Sansa.

"I know" That warmed him more than a cloak could; her faith in him, her constant faith.

That was what he needed as Sansa settled back down, half hiding under the cloaks, his hand rubbing her back as the night crept on. He settled down himself for a few short hours as Ed took over the watch, but quickly he awoke.

And it was time to move on.

Over the next day as Whitetree disappeared behind them and the cold somehow got worse, it was again rather uneventful.

Snow began to fall from the sky, soon thick and leaving an untouched layer behind them. The cold grew worse but she did find herself adjusting (though she still wore two cloaks to hold off the shivers), and Jon did not leave her side, not for a second.

She wasn't sure what his plan was when they got to Crasters, but Locke continued to glance at her, Jon kept a hand on his sword, and she knew to trust he had a plan and would keep her safe.

Safe.

It was something she hadn't felt in a long time, and yet she felt safer here, Beyond the Wall, marching towards mutineers and wildlings, she felt safer here than she ever had in Kings Landing. She felt safer surrounded by the brothers of the Nights Watch than she had around the Kings Guard.

It felt good to feel safe again, and with Jon by her side she did. She trusted him, which felt odd in itself, and it made her a little sad, that now trusting someone to her seemed a little bit like weakness.

'We're all liars here'

Had she become on herself? Had Kings Landing moulded her to be distrustful and deceitful? It certainly had hardened her, and she now read people a lot easier, but had, it had more of an effect on her than she could imagine?

She didn't know, and that alone was worrying.

What she did know was that she trusted Jon, she did, and as they marched through the snow, the flurries picking up, the sky darkening, and she knew soon they'd be settling in again, before setting off early tomorrow, to reach Crasters at nightfall.

Tonight, she'd ask Jon about his plan once they reached Crasters, she didn't doubt he had one, she just needed to know it. She wasn't a child anymore; she could be in the know, she needed to be even if they were both to survive tomorrow. Survive and run away…

Soon they reached another settlement, this one somehow worse than the last, barely a standing structure, but soon the brothers were digging out the snow, unearthing some shacks and small pieces of shelter. Jon found them a barely standing piece of wall that would keep the worst of the snow off, and she soon settled down, covered in cloaks again.

They ate quickly, rations, drank quickly and then settle down.

But Jon remained sitting as he had the night before, however this time she tugged on his arm, she wasn't allowing that, not tonight.

"Lie down" She said, she glanced around and could just see Locke, evidently the cold was getting to him too as for the first time he was ignoring them and had taken a chance on a small, wrecked house further away, that made her feel a little easier.

"I need to keep watch" So stubborn, just like Father. She remembered her Mothers insecurities that Jon looked more like her Father than any of Eddard Starks trueborn sons, as Sansa looked up at Jon with that stubborn set to her lip, she felt her Mother might have been right.

He was the epitome of a Northern man, dark hair, grey eyes, paler skin than the South, a scar or two on his face and likely more elsewhere. His accent had even thickened at the Wall, and he held himself like a Northerner. Hard set, never quite relaxed, tough, strong.

It was his personality too, he was different now, just as she was, but she could see he'd held onto those Northern qualities. Honour, duty, morals. There was more there now though, a strong mind for tactics, a smarts he had, had at Winterfell but much improved upon, an ability to laugh a little more … she wondered who had taught him that, and felt a tug.

"Not tonight, you'll need your strength" She said with a shake of her head and pulled his arm again, she was a little surprised when he relented and settled down next to her but pleased.

She lifted the cloaks then and near gasped as a chill sought to chase in the gap, thankfully Jon pulled them down quickly, though she had to lift them again for her original purpose, to cover Jon with them too. It made her colder, but she didn't care, she wanted to keep Jon safe now, like he was doing for her.

"Sansa" Jon said, and she grabbed him as he tried to edge away. Had he always been this selfless? Part of her hoped not, considering how awfully she'd treated him as children.

Guilt nipped at her again, would it be her constant companion going forward?

Father, Mother, Robb, Arya, Bran, Rickon, Jon … my fault.

She tried to shake those thoughts away as she pulled Jon under the cloaks and found it a little easier as he ceased grumbling and settled down next to her. Huh, normally the guilt would consume her, tonight it hadn't.

"You make me warmer anyway" She said, shuffling closer to him, and she could feel him roll his eyes before he too shuffled closer, and she did feel a little chase of warmth that she hadn't felt since they had left the Wall.

The guilt remained at bay, and the warmth ran a little deeper, and they were both thanks to Jon. She had much to thank him for, and knew as he settled down next to her, and her head found her way to his shoulder, and his lolled soon atop of hers, there would be more.

sooo thoughts?

lots of introspection here, and some foreshadowing for something to come! did anyone spot it? anyone?

I do hope you enjoyed, this chapter was longer than the last and the next should be even longer - the battle! (or maybe I'll taunt y'all with more just there jonsa? jks ... maybe).

anywho follow/fav for updates!

speak soon