A/N: Hey guys, Anne-Lilian here! MaryEvH sends her apologies, but with the push to finals, she just didn't have time to update.
That said, we do apologize for how long this has taken. At least Mary has an excuse, me, not so much, sorry!

Anyway, we have about 1k words written on the next chapter, and when we figure out how to get past the scene we're currently working on (Jon isn't cooperating, it's all his fault, really), we'll be sure to update again.

Until then; enjoy!

Chapter 14:

Loras sighed. At this rate, it would take them weeks to reach the North.

He knew, on an intellectual level, that it simply took time to move a force of their size, but what good would they be if they arrived at the Wall too late?

"Relax, Loras, we'll get there."

Loras glanced over at his friend. Garlan of House Fossoway was a few years his senior, but he and Loras had always gotten along famously, ever since they met as children and the elder of the two introduced the young lordling to the art of blades.

"I'd prefer to get there before one of those criminals puts his grubby hands on my sister," he grumbled, as he adjusted the collar of his shirt.

"Well, unfortunately, we'd be able to move faster if we could travel openly, but seeing as… Bethany, was it? Seeing as she's still a fugitive, this is what we have to resort to," Garlan replied logically.

'This' was 200 of House Tyrell's best mounted knights, disguised as a company of sellswords. Loras would much prefer to have worn his armour, but he supposed these rags did serve a purpose. And they couldn't very well run their horses ragged, because they couldn't exchange them anywhere along the long road north.

"I know this will take longer, but taking the long way, and disguising ourselves is our best chance of getting there undetected. The last thing we need is the Lannisters finding out what we're up to and grabbing 'Bethany' before we can," Garlan continued.

"I'm not sure this counts as the 'long way', Garlan, the Rose Road would have taken us to King's Landing first. Skirting the mountains like this may not be practical, but it is technically shorter as the crow flies."

Garlan shot him a flat look, letting him know that his snark was not appreciated. "Either way, Loras, we'll get there in time to help your sister," he murmured. "She's going to be alright."

The Knight of Flowers sighed. "I hope you're right." He spurred his horse forward, prompting the other knights to do the same. League by league, they would get there.

/*/

The huge gate slowly creaked open in front of them, revealing what Sansa assumed would normally be a bustling courtyard. Now, all who stood there had stopped to see who was arriving. Sansa felt herself blush, before she steeled herself. At least here, the only thing she could see in the men's faces was curiosity and a hint of suspicion. In King's Landing…she shoved those thoughts to the back of her mind as she scanned the faces she could see. None of them looked familiar.

"Who goes there?" a man finally called out as they stopped the horses in the courtyard and dismounted.

"I am Lady Brienne of Tarth. I seek Jon Snow," Brienne said in her clear, strong voice. Sansa had hidden her hair beneath her hood again as they'd come within a stone's throw of the castle. Brienne had wanted her to stay hidden until they were certain of her brother's protection.

"I'm Jon Snow, but I know no one from Tarth."

Sansa froze at the sound of that voice. She hadn't heard any of the voices of her family for so long… but she'd know any of them in an instant. Slowly, she turned around and lowered her hood, her red hair standing out in the grey surroundings.

Immediately, her eyes found Jon, standing on a walkway a little above her. Jon had clearly noticed the movement, and looked down at her. His scowl melted away instantly, replaced by a look of surprise. Slowly, he climbed down the steps from where he stood. All of Sansa's fears about being rejected by Jon finally started to subside as she dismounted from her horse.

Jon stopped a few steps away from her, but Sansa couldn't hold herself back. She raced to her half-brother, practically leaping into his arms. He caught her, of course, hugging her tightly, and she heaved a heavy sigh of relief.

She was home.

/*/

Roose Bolton was not pleased.

The man kneeling in front of him was supposed to have been his eyes and ears at Castle Black, but was now a deserter and, for all intents and purposes, a dead man. "My lord," the man said, his voice hoarse and breath still shallow from his quick dash to Winterfell.

"Don't speak," the Lord of Winterfell snapped, uncharacteristically angry.

"Father," Ramsay interrupted quietly, attracting the lord's ire.

"Hold your tongue, boy," Roose hissed. Then, he turned to the two guards that stood at the edge of the room. "Leave us," he commanded them. With respectful bows, they left.

Lord Bolton had been standing in front of the high table, glaring down at his former ally and prisoner, but now he strode forwards menacingly. "I set you a task, which you have clearly been unable to perform."

Locke shot a quick glance at Ramsay, seemingly nervous. "My lord," the man started again. "I had to leave. I was discovered in a area off limits to me-"

"Another clear sign of your incompetence," Roose interrupted.

Locke faltered uneasily, before steeling himself and facing his lord once more. "I have discovered information, my lord, something you would be interested in, I'm sure."

The deserter's words only served to heighten Roose's anger. "You should know better than to speak for me," he said coldly. "Ramsay, he's yours to play with."

Locke's eyes grew wide as he took in the younger Bolton's feral grin. "No, wait! Your lordship, please!" When his pleas fell on deaf ears and Ramsay started advancing towards him, the traitor shuffled back on his knees. "Please!" As Roose watched, something changed in the man's face, as though he'd made a decision. With one last look at Ramsay, Locke turned his eyes onto his lord's and said, "The Queen is in the Castle!"

Instantly, Roose held up a hand to forestall his son. "Wait," he said softly, to Ramsay's annoyance.

Locke, looking infinitely relieved, sagged where he knelt. "I found proof," he said, " The Queen is in the Castle," he repeated, his words careful as he glanced at Ramsay again.

Roose turning those words over in his mind. Obviously the ferrety man hadn't been speaking of Cersei Lannister, so the only other option was the still-missing Margaery Tyrell… This could be interesting.

Unfortunately, despite his careful wording, Ramsay was no fool. "The Queen…? You can't mean the Tyrell girl?" he said incredulously.

"Calm down, Ramsay," Roose said, turning and starting to pace. "We could use this information to our advantage."

Ramsay looked thoughtful - not a good look on his son. "Having the girl in our possession would-"

Roose rolled his eyes in irritation. "We cannot just take her, especially considering she is in the custody of the Night's Watch, Ramsay. For all our sakes, think!" Ramsay glared, but kept his mouth shut, thank the Gods.

Roose studied Locke for a moment. The man looked absolutely terrified, and the Lord of Winterfell felt a passing twinge of disgust. Perhaps he had been a useful spy, but after this cock-up, he was of no more use, especially now that he had divulged the only useful information he had managed to gather. More quickly than one might expect for a man of his age, he pulled out a knife and sliced Locke's throat.

The other man's eyes widened as blood poured from the open wound, quickly soaking his clothes. He gasped for breath as Roose and Ramsay looked on, impassive.

"Father, be reasonable," Ramsay said, not even bothering to watch the deserter die. Roose marched out of the room, ignoring his bastard.

"I am being reasonable," he replied, as if nothing had happened. "Surely even you don't think you could take an army to the gates of Castle Black and snatch the Tyrell girl, even if she would make a valuable hostage."

Ramsay smirked. "I don't need an army," he replied smugly. "I need twenty good men."

Just as quickly as before, Roose turned around and backhanded the younger man, to his shock. "Foolish boy," he snapped. "You'd get yourself killed by a Tyrell army or enlisted in the Watch before making it twenty steps!"

Ramsay was seething, but Roose couldn't care less. The boy had potential, but he'd have to learn to use his mind and curb his bloodlust. Or at least hide it better, lest he get himself killed.

No sooner had he thought those words when he felt a sharp, stabbing pain. Ramsay was just behind him, having plunged a knife into his side. A sadistic grin that he had often seen on his bastard's face was now directed at him. He grasped the younger man's shoulders, his fingers digging into his son's flesh as he struggled to articulate his shock. The pain was ebbing now, and somewhere in the back of his mind, Roose realized that this was not a good thing. He felt himself sink down to the stone floor, the boy's smirk now looming over him.

"What…have you done?" he managed to utter, his breath coming in quick gasps. Cold clawed at his extremities, though it shouldn't… Winterfell was always well-heated…

"What you couldn't, Father. And I have the perfect scapegoat," Ramsay replied as he casually walked over to Locke's body, dragging the dead man across the room. His boots made an awful scraping sound across the stone that vibrated through Roose's body. He lacked the strength to stand, his body slumping to the ground.

So many men had he helped to their demise…this would not be his end. "Guards!" he called, his voice feeble.

"In here!" Ramsay shouted, much to his father's surprise. When the guards burst in, the boy had made his way to the dying lord and had pressed a hand to the wound. The sharp pain - so in contrast to the numbness that had spread through Roose's body - stole the air from his lungs. "That traitor stabbed him!" Ramsay shouted, pointing to Locke's body.

Despite the flaw in that logic, the guards only briefly glanced at their dying lord before marching forward to drag Locke's corpse from the room. The cowards were either too scared of Ramsay to contradict him, or too power hungry to care.

Roose could feel his breathing getting more difficult; it wouldn't be long now. "Father…" Ramsay murmured, his concern almost convincing.

"Burn…in…the seventh hell," Roose managed to choke out, before he finally gave up and the world turned black.

/*/

Edd hurried to the Lord Commander's chambers, carrying two messages for Jon. He'd intercepted the messenger before any of Thorne's loyalists could take the letters, thankfully. The Lord Commander had too many enemies for Edd to ever be entirely comfortable, but so far, the worst they seemed to do was grumble and glare, which suited the Night's Watchman just fine. Let them behave like children, as opposed to proper threats, for as long as possible. They had enough to deal with just the Wildlings. And whatever else dwelled north of the Wall.

Jon was looking over paperwork with a glazed expression when Edd walked in. The Lord Commander looked up gratefully, probably welcoming the distraction.

"Edd. Come in," he said redundantly, since the other man had already stepped fully inside.

"Messages for you, Lord Commander," he said, handing over the small scrolls. "I picked them up before any of Ser Alliser's friends could," he said dryly.

Jon could barely muster a smile, but Edd knew he was grateful for the loyalty of his friend. "Thank you, Edd. You can resume your duties as normal." With a quick nod, he left, closing the heavy door behind him, and the Lord Commander turned his attention to the scrolls in his hand.

/*/

It had been a day since Sansa had arrived at Castle Black. She and Jon had spent hours catching up, until the light had faded and the candles had nearly burnt out. After that, Jon had sent her and Brienne to one of the unoccupied rooms and had escorted Pod to another room.

Today, she'd hoped to continue their conversation, but Jon was the Lord Commander, and had his duties to tend to, so Sansa had been left to her own devices. Brienne was her loyal shadow, something for which Sansa was immensely grateful in a castle full of thieves, rapists, and murderers.

She was currently in the courtyard, watching Brienne and Podrick train. Some of the Night's Watchmen had also come out to watch; many of them looked impressed by Brienne's form and skill in combat. Sansa had the feeling that entertainment like this was hard to come by in this place.

She'd seen the duo spar a number of times already, and though it was interesting to watch, Sansa's attention started to fade after a few minutes. Instead, she watched the crowd. These men looked hardened by the harsh climate this far north, but they didn't all look as intimidating as Sansa had always imagined them. Most of them were just…people, going about their business. It was as her eyes slid over the crowd that she noticed two figures walking across one of the parapets. Both were cloaked against the cold weather, and both, from their gaits, were clearly women.

Sansa started, but quickly stifled her gasp so as not to alarm anyone. There were no women at the Wall, herself and Brienne excluded, but theirs was an extraordinary circumstance. What could two other women possibly be doing at the Wall?

She cursed herself for just a moment, trying to figure out a way to cross the parapets to get to them. It was only her second day at the Castle; she still wasn't entirely sure which way to go…she hurried up the steps, hoping Brienne wouldn't notice her as she tried to calculate a route in her mind.

It took her a few minutes to reach her destination, so of course the women had disappeared when she arrived. She was disappointed for only a moment, before she knew who to go to.

A/N: Please let us know what you guys thought of this chapter! We finally got that reunion! Not quite as emotional as in the series, we know, but we hope it did live up to your expectations. Oh, and Locke's finally dead! As is Roose (a little sooner than in canon, but oh well).

Again, please let us know what you guys thought. Your reviews really do help us to stay motivated to write.

See you at the next chapter!

-Anne