She was half mad with the wildness of the wolves who came before her, her heart tearing itself in two as she rode to the Wall in a frenzied fit. Her breathing was ragged, she felt the ice within her veins and yet it did not matter.
No word had been heard from Jon in months and she could bear it no longer.
Once she got past the Wall, she dismounted with heavy legs to realise she was wearing her inside slippers. She let out a hysterical laugh as she pulled them off, ruined by the days of riding and heavy snow. Barefoot, she felt the crunch of snow with rocks aplenty digging into the soles of her feet.
Looking out at the vastness, she felt despair worm its way into her heart. How would she find Jon in all of this?
She would search for him if it would take the rest of her life, Queen in the North be damned.
"Lady Sansa." A timid voice called out from the side of her. A frightened young boy dressed in black motioned for her to follow. "He said you would come."
She saw him huddled next to a fire, unconscious, and felt his name jump from her throat. "Jon." Anguish laced her voice as she felt his forehead, he was so cold and still as if he were already dead.
"He's alive, my lady but his horse bolted and I couldn't carry him so we made shelter." The boy nervously scratched his head.
She pushed down the fear that she was too late and the bitter regret that she had not come sooner. "No need to worry, what's your name?" She schooled her features into what she hoped was a warm smile.
"Cregan, my lady." His voice wavered. "Will the Lord Commander survive?"
Sansa bit the inside of her lip. "I need you to help me put him on my horse and then you can hold him from the back. Can you help?" She ignored the question, not wanting to give false hope yet unable to speak of the possibility of his death.
Cregan nodded solemnly so together they hoisted Jon onto her horse, an effort that required every inch of her strength. He would hold Jon and she would ride. Her arms were weary, her mind sharpened only by the thought of saving Jon, and yet she sat firmly in her saddle.
"Sansa." They had ridden for several miles in silence, however now a gruff voice called her name.
Sansa wanted to turn around but she did not dare to take her eyes away from this glacial landscape. "Jon?" Her voice was hesitant.
"You came for me." She felt his arms snake around her waist and his head on her shoulder, his unkempt hair covered with snow.
"Of course." Sansa said softly. "I will always be there for you, Jon."
A/N: Thanks for reading!