authorsnote: enjoyed writing this, and more to come, it is getting tense

do enjoy, do review!

songrecs: the night we met - lord huron (perfect for this fic)

The walk back to their new home was long but welcome.

The sun was harsh, beating down on them, and yet Sansa breathed in the air like it was renewing her as they walked along. They had their purchases tucked under arm, had full bellies and the sun was offering them warmth on their faces. It was far better than she'd hoped for when she'd escaped Kings Landing, far better indeed.

Part of her wondered if she was dreaming, a cruel trick of her mind she'd wake from. It seemed too good to be true, after all she'd endured, to feel happiness again.

And that wasn't just down to being in a new place, with a fresh breeze tickling her cheeks, or her tummy content, or the sweetness of a cake still on her lips, no, they all contributed to her feelings of some level of happiness, but it was the man beside her who had her smiling.

Jon.

He wasn't as ease like she was, he never would be here, it wasn't his home, it wasn't hers either, but it was a long time since she had been home, to the North at least, Jon hadn't quite been at Winterfell, but he hadn't been somewhere so foreign as Kings Landing.

It was easier for her to adapt to somewhere new. Sure, they'd left home at the same time, but Jon had remained in the North, the surroundings much more similar, for her it had been completely different, and perhaps that was why it was easier for her to be somewhere even more foreign as well, whereas she smiled in the sun, Jon continued to glare at his surroundings.

A little giggle left her lips, and Jon's raised eyebrow in response had her grinning.

"I didn't realise the sun had offended you so" She teased, and Jon rolled his eyes, but the smile he flashed her made her smile, as they rounded the corner and strolled back to their new home.

New home; well, a version of it, it wasn't home, not truly, home was across the Narrow Sea, Winterfell, nowhere could replace it.

Sansa couldn't see the ocean from the side streets they walked down but she could smell the salt on the breeze, and imagined Westeros leagues away, imagined Winterfell, so different from Essos, imagined her home, their home.

One day they would return, she was sure of it, and yet as Jon led her around the corner to their little street, she knew with a sad smile, it may be a while before they did.

At least she and Jon had each other, the two children of the North, far away from it yes, but carrying a piece of it in their hearts.

"Do you miss home?" Sansa asked, she knew the answer of course, but felt the need to ask.

"Aye" Jon said as they walked down the cobblestone path, their little rented house nearer the other end. "I have since I left, I feel it more here too"

Sansa nodded then, oddly her homesickness had diminished a touch since coming to Essos, but she supposed it was because Kings Landing had been worse, and she hadn't had Jon, it was easier for her here.

"Do you?" He asked, likely for the same reasoning as her, and she nodded quickly.

"Everyday" She said, her tone a little sad, "I didn't at first, caught up in Kings Landing, in the fanciness of it all, but then the sparkle faded" She paused then, "As soon as I realised what it was, false, full of liars and snakes, I missed home something fierce"

Jon nodded then, "I wish I could have saved you"

Sansa smiled sadly, and slipped her hand into Jon's, "There was nothing you could have done"

"I know" She liked that about Jon, he never lied, even to spare her feelings, he was honest to the core, it reminded her of their Lord Father, Eddard Stark, too honest, too honourable sometimes, "But that doesn't mean I don't wish there hadn't been"

"We have each other now" Sansa said with a smile.

"I went after him you know" Jon said quietly, coming up on their house now, and yet Sansa stopped before entering, turning to face Jon, guilt splashed across his face, "Robb, I rode to join him"

"What happened?" She asked and didn't' realise she was whispering.

"My brothers brought me back, said I couldn't be a deserter" Jon said with a sad smile, much reflecting her own, "Part of me regrets going with them"

"I don't" She said quickly, and it was the truth that had prompted her to speak fast, "You'd have perished alongside of him"

"I could have defended him" Jon threw back, and she took his other hand then, taking both in hers, and looking across at him, his expression still drenched in guilt.

"No" She shook her head, "You'd have just been another victim of the Lannister's, and so would I, as I wouldn't have had you to run to"

Jon sighed then, and nodded, he looked a little mollified but barely, and as Sansa squeezed his hands, she knew there was only so much she could do to try and persuade him.

They both had their demons to work through, demons they wouldn't be rid of so easily.

"Robb made the choices he made" Sansa said diplomatically, she adored her elder brother, had mourned him and never stopped, but he had been a fool, "I will mourn him until I join him, but he had lost the war by the time he was killed"

Jon nodded, "I know" He sounded sad to say, and she felt it too, squeezed his hands once more before turning to the front door.

And yet before she could Jon stepped forward and placed a gentle kiss to her forehead, one so sweet it would have brought tears to her eyes. Affection had become foreign to her in Kings Landing, and as Jon cupped the back of her head, her hand went to his wrist and held it tightly, revelling in the love he showed her.

"We'll protect each other" He promised then, as he released the kiss but remained close, "I promise"

"We will" Sansa affirmed, and they both seemed a little lighter, a little less guilty, as they opened the front door into their new home.

Falling into a life in Essos was easy enough.

Neither of them needed to work, not for a time at least, they had enough money to see them through at least 4 months in Essos without needing to earn more, and with their jewels they could likely last another 8 or 9 on those alone. And so, for now, they set about adjusting to life in the East.

Jon spent much of his time training. The house they rented had a tiny, enclosed courtyard off the back (where Ghost also spent most of his time, luxuriating in endless ice baths, eating the offcuts they bought for pennies from the butchers), and though tiny Jon used the space well. Spending hours practicing movements, slashes, and footwork.

Sansa spent most of her time inside, she had purchased a few books from a local seller and was reading up on Essos, the culture, religion, great houses, the politics. She absorbed the new information with a thirst, Sansa had never wanted to play politics, but Essos had exciting dynamics, and she found herself needing to buy more books before the week was out.

They took lunch together and supper, (not breakfast, Sansa allowed herself a little extra sleep, catching up from Kings Landing, whereas Jon rose at dawn each day without fail). And on the evening, they would talk, or sit in the courtyard together, and for two hours a day Sansa insisted she and Jon sit together learning High Valyrian; it was difficult, as the language had bastard variants around Essos, but it was the universal tongue, and one could get by well enough on the language of Old Valyria.

Oddly Jon seemed to pick up the old language must faster than she (which was annoying but useful she supposed, though she could have done without Jon laughing at her snit as he flew past her). They also spent most evenings talking, usually about their days, something Sansa had read, or for Jon a tale of the Wall (Sansa didn't speak about Kings Landing), it was peaceful.

That was their days. There was some variance, midweek, and at weeks end they would go to the market, stock up on food and anything else they needed, and three times a week Sansa insisted they walk around the city, learning more about their temporary home (though Jon always took his sword and seemed on high alert, even when the streets were quiet).

It was strange, as neither of them had, had so much freedom before. Jon's days had been bound to his time, first sitting alongside Robb in lessons at Winterfell, and then as a steward to the Nights Watch. Sansa's had been sitting in lessons at Winterfell with Arya, and then as a hostage in Kings Landing. Neither had been allowed to wander freely, control their purchases or even their food so much! It was oddly exhilarating.

And yet a routine helped both of them. Working at their own pursuits, eating together, learning the local language, attending the market, and then at night they would sleep in the same bed, Jon closest to the door. Ghost would curl up at the end of the bed on Sansa's side, and they would always fall asleep facing one another, sometimes Sansa would slip her hand into Jon's, and they had not since being reunited, spent a night apart.

It was an adjustment, to say the least, different and new. Jon did well, he still despised the sun, refused to walk around without a cloak, and glared at most people, but his training was going well and he seemed to laugh more. Sansa was flourishing, cheeks pink, happy to be free and with Jon, even the Essosi fashion she tried to embrace (though the first dress she'd worn had shown so much arm and back Jon had, had to spend half an hour talking her out of the house).

They allowed any who asked (and few did, most put off by Jon, his sword and his expression), to believe they were man and wife (to Sansa's blush and an odd look in Jon's eye), as it were easier than any other explanation.

For two weeks, and then a third, and a fourth it was almost … easy. Jon seemed to ease a touch (only a touch), Sansa spent an entire day lounging, and one evening they went to the docks and sat watching the ships sail under the stars. They had money, they had a version of home, and they had each other.

It was nice, strange as it was, still with the sadness of homesickness, it was good, it was the best either had, had it in years.

And so, they should have known it wouldn't last.

It was in the fifth week, it was nearing the end of it, and they were at the market.

They had picked up food for a few days (Jon had grown partial to a potato type of pancake, and Sansa had been overjoyed to see one of their usual sellers had a fresh shipment of lemon cakes), Sansa had found a new book on Lys, and they had strolled home quickly, keen to get home, have dinner, and settle in for the night, it was already growing late, the sun setting over the harbour.

It was nice, a day they had grown used to in Essos, a day they had become accustomed to experiencing, unremarkable but pleasant, not too much excitement but both were smiling.

Until they arrived home.

Home … it had become that almost, but not for much longer.

"Stop" Jon spoke to her as she reached for the door and Sansa flinched, Jon's tone setting her immediately on edge.

Without complaint she stepped back, and Jon pushed the door open, it hadn't been locked, she hadn't seen, but Jon never missed a thing.

"Stay at my back" He said quickly, and Sansa nodded, as Jon burst into the room, sword drawn, seeming for all the world unshaken, whereas Sansa's hands trembled.

She had not expected what they found.

There was a dead man on the floor, throat torn out by Ghost, who stood nearer the door, teeth bared, muzzle covered in blood. Blood was splattered across the floor, a streak of it up the wall. The man was long dead, eyes still open, not mistaken for sleeping as some corpses were, this man had been mauled.

Sansa let out a near scream as she took in the picture, Jon made no noise, only whistled and Ghost quickly trotted to his master's side, his muzzle wet, evidently the thief had not anticipated a direwolf guarding their home.

"A thief?" Sansa asked, she had seen dead bodies, and she hated herself for feeling so weak, but this was different. This was a threat, and she was more thankful than ever to have Jon by her side, who seemed cool and at ease, though every muscle was tensed.

"No" He said without hesitation, "Stay here" He said, and quickly moved forward to check the privy, the courtyard. Ghost immediately took his spot, and as Sansa looked forward, she wasn't sure what to do, to see a dead man in their home, his blood across their floors.

She had seen violence before, had witnessed it, her own Father, had been told the tales of dear Robb and her Mother. She'd seen it up close as well, she still had nightmares about the men Sandor had killed to save her, their blood, she was thankful they were dead of course, but it didn't stop the nightmares if they hadn't been stopped, and the spray of their blood up the wall.

This felt different though, in their safe place, this was the closest thing they had to home, with Winterfell leagues away, this was all they had.

Jon was back in a second and shook his head; no one else was here. He quickly secured the door, and at his point Ghost quickly took place in front of it, to guard, Sansa felt something ease, they were secure and safe, and yet her heart was thudding hard, as though it had jumped into her head and was pulsing into her ears. Her hands still shook by her sides, though she tried to calm herself, it didn't work.

"You alright?" Jon asked in a whisper, turning to her, and she managed a weak smile and nodded, she wasn't, not even a bit, but she nodded again, Jon gave her a sad smile but turned away, sheathing his sword, they had more to deal with than her shot nerves.

And yet it wasn't just fear but sadness that had her trembling. A chill ran up her spine then as she took in the dead man, as something clicked and her trembling seized, hands curling into fists, her knuckles white.

The chill up her spine turned into ice.

"Jon" She said, voice near a whisper.

"Yes?" He asked, pausing, turning around, he had moved towards the dead man, to inspect, and yet Sansa already knew.

"He's Westerosi" She said, the clothes it was clear, as was their skin colours, "We can rule out Dorne and the North, based on his attire and face, but nowhere else" She said quickly, based on the man's hair colour, his clothing, all of it. Sansa had been an observer for the last year and a bit of her life, she'd grown to understand things as they looked both on and under the surface.

Who knew they'd come in use? She wished they didn't' have to, she wished this hadn't happened.

Ever since fleeing Kings Landing, she'd been scared the Lannister's were at her back, but she had found it easier, had even allowed herself to forget about it a touch as they'd crossed the Narrow Sea. It felt safer, outside the sphere of Westerosi influence. Clearly, she'd been a fool.

She felt like an idiot. Jon had remained alert; dagger under his pillow, hand on his sword as they walked, eyes always flicking around, keeping an eye out for danger. She had allowed her pure relief at escaping Kings Landing to have her ease back, but she hardened then, nails digging into the flesh of her palms hard enough to mark; she wouldn't make that mistake again.

She was on the run, hiding from powerful people with very powerful motives in finding her, she couldn't forget that; she wouldn't.

"Look" Jon said, leaning down now, she had remained back a touch, but Jon approached the body without so much as a flinch, her mind thanked him for the thousandth time today, for being with her, for being by her side, no matter what it had cost him.

"What?" She asked, and forced herself to take a step closer, her knuckles white.

He passed her a piece of paper that had been sticking out of the man's pocket, it had their address and her name, written roughly, and the words, 'Travelling with a dark haired, Northern man'.

All of the blood drained from her face, someone had been watching them.

Everything spun for a moment, she felt dizzy, sick, and it was only when she felt Jon's hands on her shoulders steadying her, did she manage to focus, and stop herself from fainting, though it had been a close-run thing.

"Sansa, Sansa!" Jon spoke, yelled her name then, it sounded like she were underwater, but a quick shake of her shoulders, and a little gasp left her lips, like she was coming up for air.

"I won't let anyone hurt you" Jon said, affirming it, tone fierce then as he held onto her tightly, she nodded, and a sigh of relief left her lips as Jon pulled her into a close hug, her nails digging into his back as she held onto him tightly.

The hug only lasted a second though, whereas she wanted to cling into him forever, Jon released her and whirled around to their drawers and began unearthing their clothes.

"Jon?" She asked, feeling less like she might faint, or vomit, or both, but confused as Jon grabbed two large packs, he'd insisted on picking up their second day in the city, now as he hurriedly packed his breeches, tunics, smallclothes, and things, and pushed her pack towards her, did she realise why.

"We're leaving" He said, as he ran to the bedside cabinet, grabbing the medicines they had stored, "Now"

"Why?" She asked, and yet she knew as she asked.

"We can't stay here" Jon said, "Not now they've got our address, we need to leave"

"Leave where?" Sansa asked, frozen to the spot, her heart thudding at a thousand miles a minute, in danger of fainting dead again.

"I don't know, I'll get us a horse and we'll go to another city" Jon turned to her then, "Pack"

"I…" She struggled then, almost dizzy once more and Jon was at her again, hands on her shoulders just as before, centring her, grounding her, she felt so weak, a burden, and yet her body would not move with her mind, or vice versa, she just felt a mess.

"I know you're scared" When Jon spoke it was in a soothing tone, and her hands went to his chest, to clutch at his tunic, her life raft, "But we have to move on, we can't stay here, and we need to go now, I need you to pack, get your things, you can bring two books, and don't forget the jewels" He paused then, squeezed her shoulders, "Okay?"

She nodded, just about managed it, and took just one second, one second to breath, and then it was as though everything caught up at once, and she was moving without thinking.

Quickly she packed her clothes, all of her dresses, hood, smallclothes, Jon had the medicines, and had packed the two books they had on High Valyrian, Sansa grabbed two she'd been reading, one on Qarth, the other on Essosi Cultures and Religions. Quickly she grabbed her washing things, and passed Jon his.

As Jon grabbed their purchases from today, Sansa quickly went to her side of the bed, and with her sewing needles she'd purchased quickly tore open her side of the mattress, the little parcel of jewels nestled inside; her idea, to keep them hidden, she tore out the stitches of where she'd resewn the mattress and passed them to Jon who tucked them at the bottom of his bag. She then did the same to Jon's side of the mattress to get their pouch of money, and that went at the bottom of her bag.

That had been Jon's idea too, that way if either of them lost their pack, they didn't have all of their valuables in one place.

Finally, she grabbed the apples, bread and quickly filled their water skins from the clean jug they'd picked up that morning. Two spare waterskins were tucked in, and at that both packs were completely full.

Some clothes had to be left behind, as did some books, some plates, and cups they had purchased, but there was nothing for that, though she did note Jon tucking a carving knife into his backpack, though he kept sword and two daggers at his hips.

Jon quickly secured his cloak then, and Sansa mimicked, checking her hood, she wore no cloak, but had a long cowl, and though her dress showed too much skin for her liking (she wore blue today, which thankfully had sleeves but dipped far too low on her chest, she hadn't noticed Jon's pink cheeks when she'd emerged in it), it fit her in with the surroundings, Jon did too now, with his tan cloak, he looked like a mercenary, she a woman of the East … save her hair, which she covered.

"Ready?" Jon asked, it hadn't been even half of the hour since they'd come home, expecting a quiet night in, and yet, here they were, ready to leave. Sansa supposed she could just be thankful they only had half a month on their rent left, they hadn't lost too much money, though it still stung.

Still, Sansa knew Jon was right, they couldn't stay here, thanks to her.

Guilt clawed at her chest as Jon led them outside, though she paused on the threshold.

"What about the body?" She asked, as Ghost trotted to her side, he often lingered at her skirts, likely at Jon's direction.

"We don't have time to move it" Jon said with a grimace, "The water is too far to dump it" He shook his head, "It is suspicious, but we don't have a choice"

"Where are we going to go?" Sansa asked, and she hated how nervous she sounded, and yet Jon's smile made it easier.

"I don't know, but the most important thing is that we are together" He said, and at that Sansa nodded, she couldn't think of anything more true than that.

And as Jon held his hand out to her she didn't hesitate to take it, hoods up, as the two of them, Ghost at her skirts, stole into the night.

ooof, you didn't think it would be easy for our bbys did you?

trust me, we are not even at the start of their explorations yet! where do you hope to see jon/sansa go?

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