authorsnote: here we gooo.

honestly this chapter was so hype to write, nothing more than pls enjoy.

songrecs: about her - malcolm mclaren (kill bill vol 2, best tarantino movies - kill bill, fyi).

When she woke the snow had stopped and still the chill persisted in the air. Yet, she found herself a little more used to it – sure it was still awful, and she had to rub her hands together quickly under the covers to get some circulation back, and she knew her lips were a little blue and there was ice in her hair and her feet felt a little numb, but she felt she was adjusting, slowly yes, but adjusting.

She smiled to herself then, it was a small accomplishment, but an accomplishment all the same. She was tougher than she'd known, and it felt good to know that now.

It was then she thought of Arya.

She imagined her sister would be extremely jealous that she was galivanting Beyond the Wall with Jon, and she imagined she'd also be shocked. A twinge of guilt hit her as she thought of Arya, of how poorly she'd treated her, of what an awful sister she'd been. She hoped Arya was alright, and part of her believed she was, especially now.

'The little rat is probably dead'

'No way a little girl like her could survive out there'

'Hopefully, she died quick'

'I hope she suffered'

Just a handful of the words she'd heard from the Lannisters and their guards about Arya. She once had believed her dead, had prayed for her souls' rest to the Old Gods, had mourned her, but perhaps she had underestimated her little sister.

If she could survive shivering Beyond the Wall, surely Arya, always the tougher and braver of the two could survive in the South, dodging bandits and Lannisters, perhaps planning to make her own way North to Jon.

And so, her guilt gave away to some hope, that maybe Arya was alive, maybe they would even find her when this was over, she knew Jon would want to, and she did too, to make amends, to find another of the Stark pack, to reunite with her sister. It gave her hope.

A little shuffling next to her snapped her out of her introspection and she turned to look at Jon, fast asleep, which surprised her, she was pleased to see he was getting rest (for she knew he needed it), but as she glanced at him, she could see even in sleep he looked troubled.

His brow was drawn, his lips drawn into something akin to a scowl, and she knew she was sleeping only lightly, she imagined if she so much as nudged him he'd wake, and so she tried to stay still. She knew despite her protests Jon had probably stayed awake long after she had fallen asleep to keep watch, and so she didn't want to interrupt any sleep he might be getting.

She knew for the fight to come he'd need his rest.

She realised then when Jon woke, she'd need to ask him about what his plan was for the battle. No doubt he had a plan to charge in, kill the mutineers and ensure the Wall would be in a slightly better place when he fled with her, but what was his plan for her?

Did he plan to hide her somewhere? She glanced around then and saw Locke, asleep by the looks of it, but still very much a threat. No, she didn't imagine Jon would leave her behind, not unless he killed Locke first, and even then there was still a risk a lone wildling or one of the mutineers could find her.

She shivered then, she had endured abuse in Kings Landing, and though she felt much safer here, with Jon, she knew any lone encounter Beyond the Wall with a wildling or a mutineer would surpass any abuse she'd received in the Capitol, and that was saying something.

So, what would Jon do?

"It'll be okay Sansa" She jumped as she heard his voice, and realised she'd woken him. She felt a tinge of guilt as she saw the dark circles under his eyes, and how he was still clearly quite tired, but she felt relieved to have him awake now, so she could ask him of his plan.

"Will it?" She whispered, she wasn't doubting Jon, of course not, but there was so much outside of their control, so much they couldn't command.

"Aye" He said, and then he pulled her into a hug, either because he could sense how cold she was, or perhaps he realised she needed the comfort. Either way she was happy whatever reason he had followed.

She tucked her head under his chin and wrapped her arms around him, his holding her tight. She felt warmer almost immediately and had to resist the urge to fall back asleep. A small sigh of contentment left her lips, it was a comfort she hadn't known in a long time.

"I won't let anyone hurt you" He promised again and she nodded. Again, she didn't doubt that, but even Jon couldn't control everything.

"What about the battle?" She asked, drawing back, even against her desire to stay warm and comfortable. She needed to be focused and the warmth of Jons hold was making her sleepy.

Jon nodded then, evidently, he'd been thinking about it too, "It's difficult, ideally I'd hide you somewhere and then come and get you, but that could prove dangerous, but so could keeping you by my side" He sighed then, sitting up, running a hand through his hair.

She hated herself for causing him such stress. She thought of Arya again. Jon wouldn't be worrying about hiding Arya during a battle, no, she'd be at his side, sword in hand. She couldn't do that, and for the first time she felt jealous of her little sister.

Sometimes being a perfect Lady had its limits.

She wanted to proclaim she could fight, that he didn't have to worry about her, she had the dagger he gave her after all, but unfortunately she knew she couldn't. There was no use pretending here, not with her life at stake. She had never swung a sword, never slashed with a dagger, she'd have no idea what she wad doing, and she'd likely put Jon in more danger.

She wouldn't be able to live with herself if Jon got hurt protecting her.

"I think hiding is the best idea" She said with a nod, "You hide me, in plain view of Locke, and then I'll go and hide in a different spot, one we plan" Jon nodded then, it was as good a plan as any, hell it was all they had.

"I can protect myself" She said, "I promise"

Jon smiled at her then, but she could see it was full of concern. This time she pulled him into a hug, and snuggled back into the warmth of his arms, her eyes closing, worry beating at her heart. Battle was to come.

The snow grew heavier the further North they got, and Jon was on alert, high alert.

Normally in this situation; Beyond the Wall, marching to Crasters, wildlings and worse not too far away, he'd be tense, but now it was worse, now the stakes were higher, now he had someone to protect.

He glanced over at Sansa, who was looking cold and a bit downtrodden but rallying. He could see her nose was pink, and she was so deeply bundled into his spare cloak she was almost lost under it, but she continued to nudge her horse forward, she continued to fight, to persevere.

Oh how far she had come.

He remembered her as a child, snooty, snobbish, a perfect little Lady so disparaging of bad manners and a bad birth. She had been her Mothers clone, they had barely been siblings because of her disdain for him. He didn't blame her for it, she had been a child, an easily swayed, desperate for approval child. He had been the same in many ways, seeking approval as she had.

But now he glanced over at her and he saw that change. The air of arrogance had gone, the upturn to her nose vanished, the pretty Lady like smile was still there but less innocent.

He hated himself for that. He'd have her back snob and all if he could undo what had stolen her innocence.

He remembered the morning, when she'd cuddled into him, clung to him. Oddly, it had reminded him of Ygritte for a minute, as she'd held onto him, her red hair splashed against the white backdrop.

'Kissed by fire'

They had parted, she reluctantly and he too. Ygritte had given him excitement, but Sansa gave him comfort, and he had been just as reluctant to leave the hug as she had, not least because it had been warm, but mainly because it had been comforting.

But still, they had needed to march on. The brothers were tired but like Sansa, rallying and prepared for what was to come. Ed was talking tactics with Gren upfront, Locke skulked nearby, and several of his brothers were like him, eyes sharp, muscles tended, ready.

They were only a few hours ride from Crasters now. Jon knew they'd make it just after nightfall. There was so little day this far North, sun barely touched the snow, darkness would take over before they descended on the mutineers, that he knew for certain.

"Are you alright Jon?" She asked gently, thankfully the snow was not quite a blizzard and so he didn't struggle to hear her over the light drift of it.

"Tense" He admitted, for he was. Both for the fight to come and for the idea of having to leave Sansa unprotected.

Of course he knew he had to. He had entertained the idea for a minute or two of just having her stick to his side, but he knew that would ultimately cause more damage than good. He wouldn't fight as well in trying to protect her and she'd be in more danger if she got in the way.

No, having her in close combat was too risky, all it took was one stab or a slash and she could be dead. It wasn't worth the risk.

But then he knew hiding her away was a risk too. He glanced at Locke, just ahead but trying inconspicuously (and failing), to keep an eye on them, and then he glanced in the general forward direction. She was in danger from those among them and from the strangers, wildlings and more. He hated the idea of leaving her alone, to fend for herself, but he knew it was the safest of the two plans.

He glanced over at her again, she had a dagger at her hip. He was tempted to give her his sword but he doubted she could even lift it. He would make more use of it than she would, but he hated leaving her so unprotected.

Part of him considered asking a brother to stay with her, he knew Ed and Gren had caught on who she was, but they needed every fighter to take on the mutineers, and he didn't trust any of the other brothers to watch her.

She offered him a smile then, a little nervous but a sweet smile. It gave him a flutter of warmth and he offered one back, though his was still strained. He could see Sansa still retained a hint of that innocence, still the sweetness to her smile and the gentleness in her eyes, still there, even after what she'd endured.

He wouldn't let her lose those last vestiges of innocence on his watch.

'And now my watch begins'

As one watch ended perhaps another had begun for him. As he abandoned one vow, he took up another. Again, he looked over at Sansa, bundled under his cloak as the sky began to darken, and he knew, with a grim determination, this would be a vow he would not break.

The moment she knew they had arrived was when the brother at the forefront of the march came to a stop. Horses reigns pulled, a quick slide in the snow, a hand held up that they could just make shadow of in the darkness.

"There" Jon whispered, nudging his horse closer to hers, lifting his arm up to point. "See?"

She had to strain her vision to make out what he was showing her, not so used to tracking figures, shapes or people in the dark as he was, but as she focused, followed the line he pointed to for her she could just about see; a flicker of a fire out front, a light in a window, and a Keep, just barely visible through the dark and snow, but there.

Crasters Keep.

Nerves jumped in her belly as she realised they had arrived, they had made it. She felt an odd combination of worry that the battle had come, that soon Jon would leave her, that she'd need to fend for herself, and relief that they had made it, that Jon could help his brothers as she knew he was so desperate to do, as this was another step forward in their journey.

As they had marched through the cold she had realised as soon as this was done, this would be it. They'd march back to Castle Black, flee in the night, and make their own way. Soon, it would be just the two of them, possibly the last two Starks in the world. What would they do? She didn't know, but she felt a deep sense of safety and excitement when she knew soon it would just be them, just the two of them, free and together.

That was the most important thing - together. She didn't care where they went, as long as Jon was by her side.

'Now and always'

They crept closer, the only sound now the gentle break of the horses hooves in the snow. There was no chatter, no talk, no one even dared to light a torch. They snuck forwards, under the cover of the dark, under the cover of the snow, they were silent, approaching.

Sansa glanced at Jon as they approached, he looked determined, but not worried. She wondered how many times he'd done this since she'd seen him last, how many times he'd marched into battle, how many times he'd crept up on the enemy. She felt nerves roll in her gut as she thought of him facing the mutineers.

She had to trust he would be okay, he was Jon, strong, tough, fast, surely, he would be okay.

He had to be.

"Sansa" He spoke in a whisper and she near jumped, it was the only sound across the expanse as they crept closer to the Keep, sliding down from their horses, tying them to trees, and taking places crouched behind the twisting barks, hiding in the branches. She turned her head to Jon, "Do you see that?"

He was pointing again, this time not at the Keep, but just next to it, a little cabin next to the main building, likely the stables. The snow was thick here, piled up against the doors, she knew she wouldn't enter the stables, too closed in, too dangerous, no way out, but when she followed the point of Jon's finger, he was pointing not at the door but to the side of it.

"So, hide behind the stables?" She dropped her voice to a whisper and Jon just nodded in response. Locke still ahead of them, and she knew that was the best plan, hide next to the fight. No one would suspect her of being behind the stables, there was no reason to, and so she could cower there whilst Jon did his job.

And then he would come back to her, he had to come back to her.

Didn't he?

They kept in place for a moment, no one spoke, no one diverted from watching, waiting, Jon stuck by her side, and silence continued over the forest, well until Crasters became clear along the forest line.

They were close enough to hear some crying, yelling, the shouting of men, she could see the flickering fire, see the men stood outside drinking, and a woman or two huddled over hurrying past. She felt sorrow pierce her heart, it reminded her of Joffrey almost, the abuse, the hatred, the hurt. Once again, she was thankful and proud to have escaped that.

She hoped after tonight the women stuck at Crasters Keep would escape it as well. No one deserved that life, no one.

"I count 11" One of Jon's brothers returned to stand near them, voice low, whispering, clearly, he had scouted. Jon nodded, there weren't as many brothers as mutineers, but she felt a little better that Jon didn't look too worried or scared.

Once Jon had brooded, nervous and insecure, now he looked fierce, determined. It warmed her heart to see him have come so far, to see him facing down battle, murder, death, with such certainty and a lack of fear. She felt that bloom of pride for him that she had for herself, though it was certainly coloured with worry.

"It'll be alright" Jon said, as his brother hurried back to the front, and she realised Jon was talking to her, had turned to her, and she turned to look at him. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, and she realised she was shaking, not from the cold, but from fear.

"Will it?" She whispered, she hated sounding so weak, but for all Jon looked determined and brave, she knew she looked terrified.

Not necessarily of what happened to her, that wasn't even on her mind, but she was scared what would happen to Jon.

"Aye" Jon nodded, and she leaned into him, and it felt as natural as anything when he dipped forward to place a kiss on her forehead, kind, tender and gentle. She couldn't remember the last time someone had been like that with her, and her trembling stopped. "I'll make sure of it" She nodded, for she believed Jon, trusted him.

Surely if he said it would be okay, it would be. Surely?

"We'll approach, and you should peel off, don't make a fuss, sound or goodbye" Jon said, as they began to creep forward, horses left tied to the trees, keeping low, she followed Jon's lead, couldn't resist reaching her hand forward to grip his cloak, hiding behind him almost.

She felt weak, but she wasn't stupid, she was no fighter, no leader, this wasn't her area, this wasn't her fight, should she feel weak when she knew this wasn't her expertise? Perhaps, but it didn't stop her from holding onto Jon as they approached.

"Go, now" Jon said in a whisper, and she could see his eyes fixed to Locke, who was approaching in the main group, Jon turned to look at her, "Run around, now"

She hesitated for a moment, just a moment, but nodded as Jon urged her, she felt the shaking start again then, fear, terror, she didn't want to leave Jon, either in case something happened to her, or more importantly, something happened to Jon.

The nod he gave her as she peeled away, as he joined his brothers, it reassured her some as when the brothers crept forward, she instead turned to the side, and rather than running at the Keep as the brothers soon were, she was dashing down the side, cloak pulled tightly around her, hood up, making a break for the side of the stables.

She paused just for a second to look back, as Jon ran forward, leading the charge. Again, she felt that bloom of pride, and a dreaded curl of fear as she heard the clanging of blades, the yelling of the mutineers, the cries of the brothers. Her shoulders shook as she hurried along the side of the stables, to her hiding place.

She had to get to her hiding place.

She heard voices, muffled as she hurried past the wood, crouched a little, she heard hurried footsteps, and as quick as she had run down the side she quickly darted behind the stables (which she realised now was more of an outhouse). Her shoulders shook as she shrunk to sit in the snow, her breathing heavy, her head tipping back against the wood, her trembling refusing to cease.

She heard a scream, she heard the clash of metal, and she urged herself to stay calm, to know that Jon would be alright, to stay relaxed, not to panic.

It didn't work.

When was the last time she had felt so scared? Perhaps just before her Father had lost his head, or when Joffrey had beat her? But no, even her experiences in Kings Landing with the Lannisters didn't compare to this. There she'd always been at threat of beating, of nastiness, of abuse and torment, but hearing Jon, fighting, brawling, maybe even dying (she hated herself for thinking that and tried to shake such thoughts from her head), that was worse. Much worse.

She shook her head, trembling, shaking, as she heard some clanging in the outhouse behind her, she didn't move, she didn't speak, she just sat, filled with fear.

Would Jon be okay?

Jon, Jon, Jon.

"Oh, he's fine"

A gasp of horror left her lips as she quickly stumbled to a standing position. She hadn't realised she'd been saying Jon's name out loud, but as she managed to pull herself to a standing position, still shaking like a leaf, near tripping over the cloak Jon had given her, she realised she had been muttering his name out loud to herself, and she also realised (quite quickly) that her worries for Jon were the least of her immediate concerns.

"But you" Locke said, grinning now, so sinister, it was then, as he approached, that she realised her hood had fallen, her bright red hair splashed against the backdrop of the white cold air, even in the dark, "You might not be"

She should run, she knew she should, but where? She didn't know where Jon was, she didn't know where to go, who to trust. She felt the dagger at her hip, the one Jon had given her, and she pulled it out, holding it as she tried to remember Jon doing, or Robb or even Arya, holding it forward. She doubted she made an intimidating picture though.

"Stay back" She managed to stumble out, but she knew she sounded just as scared as she was.

Locke laughed and she knew she must look foolish, terrified.

"How sweet" Locke mocked, and she felt herself shaking as she tried to hold the dagger, as she tried to stay standing, even as she felt the urge to faint, "A pretty highborn girl trying to play at protecting herself" He took a step forward then and she one back, but there was nowhere to go.

At least let Jon be okay.

That was all she could think.

At least let Jon be okay.

"Don't worry" Locke jeered, another step forward, she took another step back but felt herself bump into the outhouse.

Nowhere to go.

"I won't kill you, no, no, you're going to get me a very nice reward" He grinned then, and she felt that fear fly through her. Perhaps death would be better than being a captive again, than going with him surely to what would be another prison, another cage. The false brother took another step forward, laughing, "A very nice reward"

She didn't have the bravery to turn the dagger on herself, but she knew she could do no damage with it to anyone. She held it aloft but what could she do?

Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, nothing. Playing at protecting. He was right.

She didn't even scream for Jon, for the battle, the fight, so loud, she doubted he'd hear.

Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, nothing.

"Now don't struggle" Locke said, a step closer, inches away from her now, "It is a long journey back to the Dreadfort after all"

Her eyes widened then, and that was enough.

It all seemed to happen in slow motion, as she realised what Locke intended, as she realised, she would rather die here in the snow than be at the mercy of the Boltons, the Red Kings, notorious and dangerous. Better to die here in the calm, than be flayed there.

It was all rather slow, as she finally opened her mouth and screamed, "Jon!" She was loud, not loud enough, but that didn't matter.

She cried out for him, for Jon, and as she did so Locke went to take that final step, that final inch forward to grab her.

He never made it.

A whistle of wind ripped through the air, and to her it sounded even louder than her scream, and then all she saw was a flash of white, flying through the air in a leap, to Locke, taking him down, into the snow. As Locke fell, so did she, into a pile on the floor, a scream leaving her lips. She fell, the black cloak fanning across the white snow, but unharmed, okay, dagger rolling from her hand. Fallen, but okay, somehow.

Locke was not so lucky.

She watched the wolf, as he ripped into Locke's neck, blood spraying across the ice. Locke only managed one scream and then a faint gurgle as the wolf efficiently tore into his jugular, leaving him dead in seconds, no fanfare, no prolonged suffering, just dead, eliminated, gone.

Something close to a horrified gasp and a relieved choking sound left her lips. That he was dead, black against white, crow in the snow. Dead.

And then the wolf turned to her.

Yet, somehow, she felt no fear, not as the pure white beast turned to her, muzzle wet with blood, teeth sharp and on display. She felt no fear, and she even smiled as she saw the eyes, as she made the connection.

"Ghost?"

At his name he approached her, and she in complete relief, laughed, laughed and without any fear looped her arms around Ghost's neck, around the direwolf, the symbol of House Stark, the symbol of them. She collapsed into him, burying her face in his fur, she felt no fear, as Ghost without a sound, always silent, allowed such a thing, just as Lady had, as he allowed Sansa to let out a shaky laugh into his fur, having just defended her.

Jon may have been in the fighting with his brothers, and yet he had protected her all the same.

"Thank you Ghost" She found herself whispering to the wolf, clinging onto him, fingers scratching his ears, and she was rewarded with the thump of his tail, as she held onto that connection to Jon. As she held onto the wolf, the symbol of their noble House, her protector.

And that was where Jon himself found her, huddled behind the outhouse, clinging to his loyal wolf, Locke dead on the ground, blood splashed across the snow, he found her still smiling, trembling still but relieved, relieved as his loyal companion refused to leave her side, as she clung to first Ghost and then Jon, both of them a little bloody, but alive, alive.

soo thoughts?

GHOST COMING IN WITH THE CLUTCHHHH. I do hope you enjoyed, this was always my plan with this chapter. srry I didn't include jon's mutineer fight but we already know his bit, I will have him reflecting on it next chap tho (I've actually already written that section).

I do hope you enjoyed, if you did pls let me know! so the mutineer fight is over, what is next? betcha can't guess!

do let me know your thoughts/guesses (honestly I live for the latter!), and fav/follow for updates

speak soon