A/N: I had a request for more lemon, and thus, your wish is my command. Enjoy, darlings.

The next few days were dedicated to searching the entire area around Winterfell for The Red Woman. It became apparent she wasn't anywhere close. Nobody had seen her at all since she'd left Winterfell nearby two years before.

Jon felt more helpless than ever. He didn't want to live in this home where they constantly felt fear. That with every sip they took they could be returning to that place, to that dark rabbit hole Sansa had fallen down. That with every bite of food, or walk around every blind corner, could be welcoming an early death.

Soon Jon would have the whole kingdom on the lookout for this woman, at the speed he wrote the letters to his neighboring houses, and beyond. Urging anybody, anywhere, for their advice, or some information.

It was a week later when they received a letter, stamped with House Targaryen's seal. However, it was in a hand different to Daenerys', small and slanted and heavy with ink. Jon was walking along the top ledge of Winterfell, Sansa beside him, when a guard delivered it to them.

"Lord Varys." Jon said in a surprised tone. "Said he has experience with sorcerers. There's a man, in The Reach, he's sent for. He's worked with him before, and he helped him locate a sorcerer years ago. He'll be here by the end of season."

Sansa smiled, looking relieved.

"That's just next week." she said.

"Aye, it'll be over soon."

"Thank the gods." she said, and they stopped near a ledge overlooking the rolling landscape. "I was so worried...worried this would go on forever."

"You know I would figure it out." Jon said, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

"That, or we'd run away to the south." she replied dryly.

"We'd do what we had to be be safe, yes." he agreed. "I'm never seeing you go through anything like that again, Sansa."

"I know." she replied softly. "I believe you."

He looked at her with scrutiny.

"Are you alright?" he asked, and she bit her lip, turning towards him.

"I wish you'd stop treating me with such delicacy." she said. "I'm...not..." she sighed in frustration, trying to find the right words. "With everything, you always seem so determined to figure it out on your own. But I want to help. I know I wasn't Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, but I'm smart, Jon."

"I know you are." he said, smiling slightly. "More understanding of politics than anyone else here."

"And I appreciate everything, I do. But I want to worry, Jon. I want to know everything that happens, and be involved. When Aden was younger, of course, I wanted to be with him...but then I realized his future was being shaped and I had nothing to say about it."

"Don't you trust me to do right by our family?" he asked, this time his voice had a hint of anger.

"Of course I do, Jon." Sansa said firmly. "That doesn't mean I don't want to be there."

He was silent for a long moment, staring out over the greenery.

"I just want us to be safe."

"We are safe, Jon." Sansa reminded him. "I mean...despite the current situation, what else do we have to worry about?"

"Everything!" he shouted, and Sansa jumped. Jon had a fire in him, that she usually only saw aimed at other people. But now the anger was sparked, and it was her that was getting burnt. "We are the head of one of the oldest and most powerful houses in Westeros. No matter what we do, who we have to help us, there will always be something, Sansa. We are not farmers, or merchants, we don't live in a small country home. We don't know safety, we never will."

Sansa blinked. His tone had been cold, condescending almost, like he was explaining an arithmetic problem to a small child. Her lips tightened, and the next moment, she stormed off, leaving him alone to brood in peace.

She wasn't surprised by this outburst, just annoyed by it. There was nothing she could do to erase the soldier from his head. Too much had happened. Like Sansa would always be a survivor, he would always be a soldier. Never putting his guard down. She thought for a moment, considering his words. Maybe he was right. Maybe she was stupid to let her guard down. To trust the world like she was allowing herself. To believe her happiness was permanent, and not something that could be snatched away in an instant.

She stopped, and felt guilty for a moment. She hadn't meant to insult him, but she realized she might have. She may have come off unappreciative, or naive. She stopped, at the head of the stairs, in a dark corner. Naivety was her biggest weakness, she knew that. But was that because she was overly trusting of the wrong people?

She felt a figure behind her, and turned. Jon was there, just a few paces beside her.

"I'm sorry." she said softly. "I'm being stupid."

"You're not stupid." he said, matter of fact.

He stepped closer to her now, and for some reason, she felt her breath hitch in excitement. She was looking at him up and down, in a way that felt quite vulgar. Where was this coming from? she wondered, although not for long.

"You know I would let you be a part of everything I do." he said. "Why are you coming at me as though I'm some traditional man who only wants you to produce children for me?"

She dipped her head down, grinning.

"Well, you do want that, to be fair." she said, and then Jon smiled as well. He was right, she knew that. Sometimes she applied ideas to Jon that were far from true.

"And there may be a day we have peace," he said, and stepped closer. "but I don't see it happening for a while."

Again, he was right. She frowned, feeling foolish.

"I'm sorry." she said again. "Maybe I'm just accustomed to feeling safe. Because you're here."

Now it was her turn to step forward. He noticed the distinct tilt of her head, then, and the way her clear blue eyes gazed at his lips. She was close, now, close enough for him to reach out and touch her face.

"I am here." he said. "For whatever you need."

"Do you know what I need?" she asked, her voice low. She was surprised at how sudden this wave of lust had come over her.

She brushed past him then, into the shadow of the roof and into the small storage alcove near the stop of the stairs. She found a heavy box, and she turned, sitting on it. She waited, sitting down coquettishly. She shook the cloak from her shoulders, letting the cool morning air wrap around her skin.

He was there the next minute, standing above her. He held her face in his hands, pushing her knees apart, so she was wrapped around him.

"Are you suggesting something?" he asked, raising a brow. "It'll be scandalous if anyone catches us up here."

She groaned, shutting her eyes. There was a way Jon's voice changed when he wanted her, it got rougher, almost, harsher, and it cut through her pelvis like a knife. She looked up at him with hooded eyes, her irises huge from the dim light and her desire.

It drove him crazy when she got like this, urgent and desperate and so passionate. He kissed her then, hungrily, pulling her closer to his chest, pressing his hardness against the space under her skirts.

In a chaotic rush, they both began loosening the garments necessary. Sansa, panting, lifted up her skirt, and shimmied, letting her pants and stockings fall onto the floorboards. Jon pulled her closer, pressing his thumb against her wetness beneath her skirt. She cried out, as Jon explored inside her. He watched her, sitting on the dirty crate, her eyes half open and her red hair spilling over her face as she moaned, dipping into her open mouth and across her full lips. He brought her to her peak easily, well practiced at it now.

He couldn't take it much longer, and he stepped back, bidding her to spread her legs with a slap to her thighs. She did, and he looked at her for a long minute, perched on the side of the box with a wicked grin on her face, waiting for him. So devilish, she was sometimes, with such a disregard for proper behavior.

When he took her, they both cried out in unison. He hiked up her knee, filling her deeper. She made noises through clenched teeth. Jon pushed her hair from her face, kissing her as he worked. She could tell he wasn't going to last long, and sure enough, a moment later, with his mouth still on hers, he finally broke with a shout. She reached for his hips, assuring he was deep inside her as he released.

His muscles relaxed all at the same time, and he slumped into her, a hand on her back.

"Gods." he muttered into her ear, and she smiled. "We have to fight more often."