A/N: Hello again, loves! Sorry for leaving you in suspense after that cliffhanger meeting between Jon and Marg, but we hope the conversation in this chapter will be plenty to keep you going before our next update! My regulars know the drill - read, review, and most of all, enjoy!

Previously:

"That's right," the man said, sitting down on a cot opposite to her own. She was grateful for that; the height difference made her feel even smaller than she was. "My name is Jon Snow."

"I apologise for not meeting you sooner, my lady," he said. "I was dealing with…matters sensitive to the Watch out beyond the Wall. As you probably know by now, a few of my men found you out in the snow by Queen's Crown a few days ago." He paused, like something unpleasant was about to happen, and an odd feeling settled in Margaery's stomach. "I hate to ask you this, my lady," he said slowly, "but I have to know...what's the last thing you remember before you woke up here?"

She thought carefully for a moment. She didn't know this man, and, despite his station, she didn't know if she could trust him. Better to tell him as little as possible. "I was travelling with my half-brother and two friends. We were on our way to Bear Island when we were attacked by Bolton men. My brother told me to run…so I did. He and his friends gave their lives so I could live." The shaking of her voice was no act. She could still see Brandeth's face as the arrow pierced his throat, and she knew it would haunt her for a long time to come.

The Lord Commander stiffened when she mentioned the name of Winterfell's usurpers, though he tried to hide it. She briefly wondered if this was "Ned Stark's bastard" that the Capitol was always buzzing about. After all, his surname was Snow. "And your name?" he asked in the same stiff tone.

"Bethany Flowers. My half-brother was S-Sterlan Florent of Brightwater Keep," she said, only barely stumbling over the brave knight's name.

She saw a flash of interest in his eyes when she gave him her pseudonym. No doubt he recognized the bastard name of the Reach. "He died to protect you; I'm sure he'd be glad to know you're safe, my lady."

Margaery frowned. "I'm not a lady. I'm just a bastard." It almost hurt to have to deny her heritage like this; it was something she'd always taken pride in. But now, it could mean her death if she revealed it.

He chuckled. "So am I."

Feeling a tad self-conscious, she went to tuck her hair behind her ear. The Lord Commander let out another soft chuckle as he watched her. "You know, you remind me a little of my sister."

Margaery tilted her head, intrigued. "Tell me about her," she asked, letting her lock of hair drop. She really shouldn't care, but she found herself curious. This man acted nothing like she'd expected the Lord Commander of Castle Black to act. Not to mention, he was much younger than she pictured him to be.

The man hesitated for a moment, running a hand through his hair. "She was…a bit of a brat, to be honest," he said with a fond smile.

Margaery raised an eyebrow. "I'm flattered," she said, a little sarcastically. She didn't think he'd meant to insult her, but it was hard not to take offence.

He laughed in earnest now, and Margaery couldn't help but notice that he had a nice smile, even under his battle-hardened exterior. "You didn't let me finish, my lady," he said, and it was all Margaery could do to stop her surprise from showing on her face. That was the fourth time he'd called her a lady. How can he tell? "My little sister was a very proper girl when we were younger, always acting like a Lady, and never letting her composure slip. Except when our other sister managed to rile her up. And then she'd always get her mother involved, trying to blame her little sister, but…" Lord Commander Snow shook his head fondly. "A redhead and a terrible liar, that describes my sister."

Her smile melted off her face. "Red hair?" she asked sharply. "Your sister isn't Sansa Stark." She didn't even bother to pose it as a question, it couldn't be possible.

The man shot up from his seat and loomed over her, his relaxed attitude now nowhere to be found. "Who are you?" he demanded harshly.

Margaery realized her mistake, but she couldn't backtrack now, and she had a feeling that lying wouldn't be in her best interests. Sansa had never spoken of a brother - or even a half-brother - at the Wall, but judging from the way this man spoke of her, they were close.

Now it was her turn to stand, despite the agony that caused. "My name is Margaery Tyrell, and Sansa was my friend, my only friend at King's Landing," she said, looking straight into his eyes, her chin raised. Seven hells but it hurt to stand on her own, but she would not show pain. He was a good head taller than her, and struck an imposing figure, but underneath the guise of Bethany Flowers, she was Margaery Tyrell of Highgarden, and she would not be intimidated.

Jon Snow stared her down for a moment, searching her face for lies. She made sure to keep her features as open as possible. He would not find any untruths in her eyes.

As his shoulders relaxed minutely, Margaery knew that he believed her. He gestured for her to sit, as he took his own seat again. She remained standing for just a moment longer, and perhaps it was a tad petulant, but she didn't care. Then, she sank gratefully down onto the cot, glad to let the pain recede once more.

"What brought you to King's Landing? And how did you know Sansa?" he asked.

Margaery contemplated twisting the story, but she sensed it would get her nowhere with this man. He was…different than any other man she had ever met, and it intrigued her. So she told him everything, from her marriage to Renly forward. When she spoke of Joffrey, Jon almost snarled, but he never once interrupted her. She ended her tale with her desperate flee from King's Landing, and the slaughter of her guards by the Boltons' men. All the while, the white direwolf sat at his feet, silent as a shadow.

"So you don't know where Sansa is now?" he asked calmly. At the shake of her head, he sighed heavily, his hand going to pet the wolf. "She's become a survivor. Living in the capitol made her that way. If she made it out of King's Landing, she'll come here. If not…there's nothing I can do for her."

Margaery already admired him. While he obviously loved his sister, he didn't let that stand in the way of what was in front of him now. "I wish I could have taken her with me," she said softly. "Truly, I do." She had no idea what had happened to her friend in the chaos following the King's death, but she desperately hoped that she was somewhere safe.

Jon offered a sad smile. "Thank you for being her friend while you could. I can only hope she'll show up here soon."

Margaery's eyes wandered back to the direwolf, now lying down at his master's feet again. "What did you say his name was?"

His smile grew. "Ghost." The animal lifted his head to his master at the sound of his name; he was clearly very intelligent.

"Fitting," she murmured, looking at him. Hesitantly, she held out a hand to the animal, looking up to Lord Commander Snow for permission. When he nodded, she leaned forward a bit, her palm still up. Ghost sniffed at her again for a moment, before gently licking her hand. "He's so tame," she said softly, in awe of how gentle and calm he was.

The Lord Commander stood up as Ghost started to nuzzle against Margaery's hand, moving to his desk. "Don't let him fool you; he'd just as soon bite your head off if I told him to," he said very matter-of-factly. Margaery pulled her hand back, suddenly content to just be near the animal. "My brothers and I found a litter of six pups in the woods outside Winterfell. Probably not too far from where you wound up. Their mother was dead; we knew they wouldn't last on their own. I convinced my father to let us have them, rather than kill them. All I had to do was remind him that the direwolf is the sigil of House Stark." He laughed again. "Believe it or not, Ghost here was the runt of the litter."

She smiled softly at him. "Hard to believe, indeed." She paused, now petting him lightly. "It was very kind of you to let them live. Most men would have killed them and not given it a second thought."

"Direwolves have a reputation for being vicious creatures," Jon said. "Part of the reason they're a house sigil. No one thinks of them as pets until you train them. They're very loyal." He reached down to scratch Ghost's neck. "He and I went beyond the Wall together. I owe him my life several times over."

Margaery looked up in shock. "You've been beyond the Wall?" He'd said as much earlier, but she'd been focussed on other matters at the time. Now, it dawned on her that he must have had several excursions beyond this castle's northern gates.

"Aye. It's a wonder I didn't lose him out there; it's nothing but snow as far as the eye can see," he laughed.

"All I've ever heard of the land beyond the Wall are horror stories," she said. "They-"

A knock interrupted their conversation. "Lord Commander?" a young voice called out.

"Come in, Olly," Jon called in response. A 12-year-old boy opened the door, carrying a tray of food - including meat scraps that were clearly for Ghost - with a few notes on one side. His eyes stopped on Margaery and Ghost, and she immediately looked away. "This is Bethany," Jon quickly stepped in to alleviate the awkwardness. "She'll be staying here until we can find somewhere for her to go. I want you to care for her as you do for me."

The boy - Olly - nodded. "Yes, sir. Anything else?"

"Not for now. I'll send for you if I need you." He bowed to Jon, awkwardly half-smiling at Margaery, before taking his leave, shutting the heavy oak door behind him. "That's Olly, my steward," he said. "The Watch brought him here after his hamlet was sacked by Wildlings. I took him in, just as the previous Lord Commander did for me."

Margaery smiled. "You're very kind, Lord Commander Snow," she said softly, looking back at the snow-white direwolf. "You have a good heart."

He smiled, and she almost thought he was blushing. "You don't have to call me that when we're alone, my lady. I'm Jon," he said, looking to the side somewhat awkwardly.

"Then I'm Margaery," she replied with a smile.

/*/

All through the night, Jon and Margaery talked over a skin of wine. She wanted to hear about his mission beyond the Wall, infiltrating Mance Rayder's army, and his subsequent escape, while he asked her about Highgarden, King's Landing, and the politics. Periodically, Ghost would either nap in the corner, or put his head in one of their laps.

However, the conversation quickly got personal. Margaery wrapped her arms loosely around herself during a pause, staring into the burning fire. She could feel Jon Snow's gaze on her, but she didn't feel at all threatened or afraid. It seemed as though he was merely curious to see what she would say.

"When I left Renly's camp for King's Landing…" she began slowly, before a quiet scoff left her. "Of course I knew exactly what was happening. After he died and I was…" she paused awkwardly. "Well, still a virgin, Father needed me to be a political bargaining chip. Marrying me off to Joffrey was...the most logical thing to do." She paused.

"But then came the wedding," Jon supplied, taking a drink of his wine.

She nodded, a sigh creeping into her voice when she echoed him. "But then came the wedding. Clawing at his own throat, looking to his mother to make it stop…it was horrible. Grandmother must have known something was going to happen, the way she smuggled me out. It was clearly orchestrated with our guards ahead of the ceremony."

"Perhaps she just wanted to save you from the wrath of Cersei Lannister," Jon suggested. "She'd already threatened to strangle you in your sleep if you called her sister."

"True," Margaery acknowledged, taking a drink. "Still...I never thought things would end up this way. Both my husbands dead, my close knights dead protecting me, my friends and family estranged, with no way for me to contact them…" a heavier sigh left her. "I know I can't trust a raven to carry any word to my father. Not even that I'm still alive. It's so isolating."

Jon chuckled, a bit to her surprise. "Believe me, I know how isolating the Wall is," he assured her. "But I hope you can also find some valuable companionship here."

She smirked a little. "I believe I already have, if it's not too bold to say."

Jon quickly ducked his head, trying to hide his blush. "At least you didn't have to worry about entanglements of love with King Joffrey. The woman I loved...chose a different life," he said slowly, thinking about Ygritte. It was surprisingly easy for him to talk about her, despite the way everything had ended.

"I have to admit, it's a little surprising to hear you speak of a woman, considering…" she trailed off, looking a little uncomfortable.

Jon shrugged. "It's against our vows, but we're still human. It's hard to resist, but it still happens sometimes…and I had to be one of them."

Margaery tilted her head, seeming slightly confused. "One of them?"

Jon took a drink. "She was a Wildling in Mance's army. I 'joined' their band after Qhorin Halfhand and I were captured beyond the Wall. That was when we...fell in love, I suppose."

"It's funny," she said, her hands sitting in her lap around her wine cup. "I've been married twice, but I've never had the privilege of falling in love."

Jon laughed as he spoke. "Well, the last time we saw each other, she shot me three times, so it might not be all that you expect it to be."

Margaery raised her eyebrows in shock. "That sounds like quite a story," she said, taking a drink.

He sighed. "When I came back...even after I was elected, no one else believed that the Halfhand wanted me to kill him. He knew our only chance to stop Mance was to get a man inside his army. I had to prove myself to the Free Folk. I traveled with them for a while, until we got south of the Wall. When I refused to kill an innocent farmer...so instead, I had to kill their warg and three others. Then I had to come back here, but Ygritte caught up to me and shot me full of arrows. The next thing I knew, I was in Maester Aemon's quarters getting patched up."

She frowned. "But...how did you get past the Wall?"

He tried to grin, but he was sure it was closer to a grimace. "We climbed."

Margaery's jaw dropped. "That…is quite impressive," she managed.

Jon laughed. "It was definitely harrowing. And not something that bears repetition." He paused to take another drink. "There were four of us tied together on each rope. I was on the bottom of mine. Each of us had two pickaxes, and special devices laced onto our boots to help us keep our grips. The leader of my group, Tormund Giantsbane, was at the top of the rope, nailing in the supports for the rope - and then each of our feet in turn."

Her eyes were wide with amazement. "Incredible."

"Hardly the word I would use," Jon chuckled, refilling her cup. "Tell me more about King's Landing. How was Sansa when you last saw her?"

Margaery resumed her story from her arrival at King's Landing, but now in much more detail, especially as it related to Sansa. He winced when she spoke more of Cersei Lannister's viciousness, even in the face of Margaery's kindness to her. "She saw you as a threat to her place in Joffrey's life," Jon said flatly, and she could tell that he knew he was right. He tossed another scrap to Ghost, which the animal caught in his huge jaws easily, chewing contentedly in his small corner of the room.

Margaery grinned at him; Jon was glad the two of them had already adapted to each other so well. "Do you want to see the rest of Castle Black?" he asked as soon as the thought came into his head, putting down the wineskin on his desk.

She blinked, surprised at the offer. "I would love to, if I may," she replied, getting up from where she sat and setting down her wine.

Jon smiled. "Of course. To me, Ghost," he called, patting the side of his leg.

They walked down the stairs from the Lord Commander's tower into the mess hall. Jon showed her the high table, where he sat, and talked about meal times, and his election as Lord Commander. She loved it when he told her Maester Aemon had to be the tie-breaking vote. "He might be the most respected man in the whole Watch. Even more than me," Jon laughed. But they hadn't gone more than a few yards before they ran into a small group of men.

"Oi, Lord Commander, she can sleep in our room if you're tired of her," one of the men shouted suggestively as the others sniggered. Jon opened his mouth to tell them off, but Ghost beat him to the chase. The wolf stepped out from behind his master to stand in front of Margaery, growling angrily. Jon could see that the man quickly regretted his words, but Ghost was sure to chase him off with a bark for good measure.

Jon sighed heavily. "I'm sorry about that," he said as soon as the men were out of earshot. "They haven't seen a girl since they got to the Wall, sometimes they forget how to behave…"

Margaery simply smiled down at Ghost, petting him gently. "It's alright; it would appear I have a protector," she laughed. "And you forget that I've spent quite some time in bad parts of the Reach; I've heard far worse."

Jon nodded, both upset at the man for harassing Margaery, and proud of Ghost for coming to her defense. He scratched the direwolf's head in appreciation. "Come on, I'll show you the training grounds, and then…" he grinned. "There's a surprise."

Her eyebrows went up. "A surprise?"

"Olly, find a cloak for Bethany to borrow," Jon said as his steward came around the corner. The boy hurried off, quickly returning with a thick, black cloak, similar to Jon's. They walked the huge courtyard where the men trained, Jon pointing out the armoury on the other side, before they made it to the lift. "Now, you might want to put that cloak on."

"We're going up there?" she asked, sounding excited. Jon grinned at her and held out the cloak. As Margaery wrapped it around her shoulders, Jon led the way into the lift, closing the door behind her. The rectangular box slowly began to wind its way up, whining and wobbling slightly in the wind. Jon watched the rest of the castle grow smaller and smaller beneath them, wondering what she thought of all this.

Finally, the lift came to a stop. Jon opened the door, gesturing for Margaery to exit first. "And what's up here, Lord Commander?" she asked, almost coyly.

Jon grinned. "The edge of the world."

He watched her step out of the lift, glancing around at her surroundings, before she stepped out closer to the edge. Jon followed, a few steps behind her, and heard her gasp as she looked down. "Gods above..." she whispered. "The edge of the world, indeed. I've never had a view like this in my life."

His smile grew. "This is what the world looks like from 700 feet above the ground."

"And you climbed that?" she asked incredulously, looking up at him.

"Aye. But to a slightly lower point than this," he chuckled. "The Wildlings knew they couldn't exactly summit the Wall at Castle Black."

Margaery nodded in understanding, returning her gaze to the land below as she pulled the cloak a little tighter around her shoulders. "There's so much more out there…" she said softly. "So much that I barely knew existed."

Jon took his gaze from Margaery to look into the distance. "Look," he pointed. "The sun is rising." He saw her gaze go out to the edge of the sky. The first rays of light had just made their way over the tops of the trees, but it was already looking to be a bright, clear morning. Soft pinks, purples, and yellows were reflected on the few clouds, gradually fading as the light got brighter. It was all augmented by the reflection of the light off the snow on the ground.

He saw Margaery's eyes close, just as the sun started to light her face. She had pulled the cloak a little tighter around her shoulders as a chilly breeze came up to meet them, but Jon was watching the way the sun played off the angles of her face, the hint of a smile that was tugging at her lips as she inhaled and exhaled slowly. He had never seen anyone so calm and peaceful before. And gods, she really was beautiful.

"If you'll pardon me, my lady, I have to go back down and address the men at breakfast," he said. "You can stay up here as long as you like. I'll leave Ghost with you so you're not by yourself."

She smiled, opening eyes and turning to him. "Thank you, Lord Commander. I'll likely still be here when you're done," she laughed.

Jon's smile widened. "Then I'll be back to get you. Stay, Ghost," he said, getting into the lift alone.

A/N: Be sure to let us know what you think!

-A&M