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rise-my-angel · 2 days

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Heart of the Great Wolf

47 - Into the Haunted Forest

Pairing: Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader, Robb Stark x F!Baratheon!Reader (Past)

Length: 16k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, character death, disturbing imagery and violence, non descriptive animal death, past trauma, mild illness, smut, oral (f receiving), p in v

Notes: The first scene of this chapter does not necessarily take place at the same time that the main chapters contents take place in. Previous Chapter Here, Series Masterlist Here

The night had been calm. Sky was dark and stars white and bright, visible with not a cloud to fog their vision of the lands below. The wind was hardly there for once, and not a speck nor sign of rain or snow meant that peace could be found. Or, it should have been found. As it was, that calmness, that serene quiet and clear skies were a lie with what laid below. The longer footsteps walked through the empty halls, the more the silence turned to muffles, which turned to the source of disturb in their home as the doors to the outside were opened.

Their shores should never have been used for such a purpose. It was an insult, a sin, a spitting on the only god they should be serving and yet it now was the sight of something red and terrible. Fear and pleading, they were chosen for no crime. Not weak men, nor selfish or stupid. They were as good as the rest of them and yet they stood on the pyres, hands forcing them tied around the poles, and wood placed just enough on the rocky shores that the waters tide would not touch them.

Torches were lit in hands of those foolish enough to believe whatever this was. Orders of a King and yet it went against what they were. This was not spoken of in the promises made when they chose him. It was all making sense until some months ago. Many travelling to here or there, and plans for more made until those months passed and something had changed. Something that changed the man from determined to a darkness growing more and more to be feared.

It was confusing for many of them, and it would only be revealed as much as he wanted to reveal it, which until tonight, had been none. The original plan was supposed to be their only one. Daenerys Targaryean had dragons, claimed to be a Queen, had vast armies, it made sense for a man like their King to come up with. This did not. Her dragons were still sought after, but the plan had changed from being sent away to find her, to leaving some place as opposite of the Slave cities of Essos as could be. But, as they walked, they knew it was their Uncle who was King, it did not matter if it didn't make sense to them.

Yara knew she had to obey whatever command she was given. Euron Greyjoy ruled the Salt Throne, not her.

Personally, she had no affinity for the Targaryean girl or her dragons. Yara was Ironborn, and their power came from their ships. Dragons were air and land and fire, not ships and water and the freedom to sail and take whatever. Raiding and taking what they need wasn't possible when one would burn said lands to take it in the first place. It wasn't sustainable, there was no end there that made sense.

But, Euron didn't make sense. He returned home from over a decade of exile as a man she did not recognize. He was rambling, and crazed, yet terrifying in his confidence of the psychotic things pouring out of his mouth. Stories she didn't know if she should believe. He hadn't made sense since he stepped back on Pyke, and it continued to not make sense as Yara walked down to the shores of her home.

Only now were she and her Uncle Victarion given details on what the new plan entailed. Who they were now tasked with finding and bringing to Euron. The only Queen which mattered he had put it, but then that witch had showed up. Slunk into the room and tried seducing words to offer one last thing before Yara, Victarion and their men departed. An offering.

It was that offering Yara approached now. The very red witch's voice loud as she stood before the pyres with Euron standing tall without question beside her. “Here us now. Accept these tokens of our faith my Lord, and lead us from the darkness.”

The men on the pyres did not beg mercy, and yet each step Yara took towards the shore did she wish to give it to them. Bloodshed was their livelihoods, but this was not bloodshed. This was cruelty and torture with nothing to gain from it. She briefly wondered if these thoughts would show her weak, but as she came to the side of her Uncle Victarion, he held the same expression. One which felt as doubting as hers as they glanced to one another.

Euron was their King, and they would let this happen, they would follow their orders, but they both felt as if whatever path this was leading them on, was going to be a war they cannot win.

Half around listened intently to the words this witch was speaking, the other half standing as unsure as the two of them were. Euron had not even shifted once. He didn't look even remotely affected by what he was about to do. Continuing the witch spoke in reverence, “Lord of Light show us the way, yours are the stars that guide us.”

He hadn't done anything like this when the plan was to find the Targaryean girl. What was it about this one though that demanded such extremes? Why was she so necessary it warranted this? But Euron had told them, she had plenty of time to come to him herself. So now they must do as Ironborn live by, take what they need. And to Euron, he only needed her. Nothing else mattered, not the morals nor the cost.

“Lord of Light, protect us.” Euron watched, his uncovered eye bright and certain with almost a hint of a smirk on his face at how little he cared about the horror he was to allow. Yara and Victarion shared one more glance, before watching the witch give her final words acting as command. “For the night is dark and full of terrors.”

In an instance, the pyres were properly set alight, and their visions all were taken over by reds and oranges of flames taking those consumed by them. Their screams did not last long, but they echoed in Yaras ears even in the silence which followed. Euron had not flinched, or moved or blinked the entire time. Whatever the reason he wanted this girl, he seemed to think this was worth it. Yara disagreed. No one person was worth this.

All passed her by, one by one returning to the warmth of the castle walls until only Victarion by her side remained. His voice was low, and hiding the doubt in them despite none else there left to hear. “I dare not think what Damphair would say, knowing what has become of us.”

Yara pretended as he did, neither voicing their doubts despite it being felt thick between them. “Have you seen him?” His silence was her answer. Face falling into somewhat of a grimace, she shook her head slightly. “This isn't who were are, uncle.”

Victarion knew that, but he gave her the only answer he could. A lie. “It wasn't once. But it is now.”

Only she was left. The fires dimming eventually into a smouldering of embers, and Yara could only think to herself that she could not decide which she wanted to feel more. If she should feel guilty she gave up on rescuing her brother as she once declared, as she now wished he was here to give any comfort to her ragged soul. Or if she was thankful she abandoned him that night, so he wasn't here to see this.

Theon would be ashamed if he knew this was what his big sister had allowed their fathers Kingdom to become. Yara knew she deserved it, she felt ashamed too. But still, once the sun rose in the sky, she had gathered her men as Victarion did his to prepare regardless of the guilt and doubt.

They had a long, cold journey ahead of them, and she had a feeling this King in the North would not let them take you from him without a fight.

For something so quick on it's feet, he moved very slowly with a trepidation which was exhausting for any to watch. The small dips within the snow creeping ever so closer to where he was sniffing out what he should not sense as danger, and yet there he paced. Taking every inch of time there was to do so. Such an amount of time taking to approach it, one would think it was smart enough to sense a trap by that point.

The little fox was not quite as clever as he was quick, and within a single breath of a wrong step did a whoosh rush through the air as sharp ends clamped down as planned. The brightness of the snow at least provided an easy way to monitor movement patterns out here for small prey, and thus far all five laid traps had given something to varying degree of sizes.

Not particularly heavy the fox was, easy to tie ends of thin ropes around two legs at a time and looping it around to much more easily lunge over a shoulder. Human footprints in the shape of boots were not the only ones leaving the scene, but a very large pair of ones owned to a wolf followed with a huff on it's breath as if to grab attention.

The hand reaching out to run along their ears and top of their head didn't last long against the affectionate shake of the wolfs head before a laugh followed. “You can wait the time it will take to cook it.” Only when the wolf did not ease up on their intending want, a small chunk of meat kept in a small side pocket, hidden away under the sheepskin fur, was brought out and tossed their way, the wolf gleefully catching it in his mouth.

A sigh and shake of a head, the wolf at least found content for now. Climbing up the remainder of the snow covered hillside, mostly forest surrounded but there were clearings such as the one coming into view which showed a grander image then preciously imagined.

Mountains which sat far in the distance looked like they spanned on forever, snowy peaks which bled down to the tops of the trees of the forest which seemed to go on for as long. Down below though, the clearing in the most immediate view was as strange as it was becoming familiar in it's own way. The remains of a small camp having mostly been cleared away, packed up on the two horses which seemed unaffected by the cold around them.

Still going strong, the fire which had been in the centre of the scene the night before burning bright with the last remains of firewood to add to it still sitting close by. The figure knelt by the fire had their head down, working away at an animal, large and immobile laid out in front of them, half of it's skin already being sliced away with ease. The wolf trotted down happily to join, only then causing the figure to glance up to the approacher.

The moment he could see more up close, you knew without a doubt already Jon was forming something far more clever to say then the still early hours of the morning should permit.

Whatever natural ability to tease and poke fun at you existed naturally in his blood, was now tenfold. Utterly relentless he could be now that there was none to hear him tease you but two horses, and Ghost. Not a soul existed for miles, not a scrap of human life was left in the fortnight you had been travelling.

Not yet words shared, as he paused in his work to pass a sharp knife to you. Ghost settling somewhat by the fire between you both as you each continued on in the quiet. Only to have you drop the movement of your hands barley able to begin removing the skin, when his voice finally found itself far more teasing then you expected. “Does five small things win or lose against me getting this one and dragging it back on my own?”

Your eyes rolled up to the sky with a grin, knowing the moment you dropped back to look at him in an amused incredulity, Jon was failing horrendously at covering up his own smirk. “Not even five minutes passed this time.”

The confidence in his voice was both well earned and yet only there to serve as mocking towards you, knowing how easy it was for him to do. “I wasn't making fun of you, I was asking a question-”

Shaking your head, you looked back down to the animal in front of you, trying very hard not to be weak and tear your gaze right back to his teasing one. “You're the one who told me to handle the traps, Snow. It isn't my fault I keep losing.”

Jons audacity to genuinely kneel there and say to you, “I never said you lost.”

Biting your tongue could barley even contain the grin trying so desperately to poke back out. Purposely now not looking at him, knowing it would only serve to amuse him more. “Perhaps if I too was strong enough to pull a bloody deer all the way back on my own, you'd finally lose once in a while too.” His voice barley rasped out before you raised your voice ever so slightly, in an almost childish defence knowing what was about to be said. “If you say anything about my fragile state, Jon, I swear to all the gods,”

His laugh gracing your ears was nothing but welcome. Only just flickering your eyes up enough to catch his, noting he had shamelessly not stopped watching you. Not even moving back to his own work, just looking far to adoringly at you for your own good, or health.

“Were you this touchy last time?”

You had not the foresight to notice he had walked you right up to the edge of a trap and gleefully watched you fall right into it regardless. Mouth falling open in offence, you tore your eyes back up in a narrowing glare. “First you make fun of me, and now you say I'm being sensitive-”

He had too much energy this early, it wasn't fair. “I didn't say you were sensitive, I asked of you were touchy last time.”

Your head dropped, almost dramatically and he laughed once more. Muttering under your breath as you returned to work. “That entirely depends.” Asking on what, you raised your eyebrows unknowing he once more was guiding you to just the right ends to make fun of you. “On how much more or less you'll keep this going depending on my answer.”

Jon said it with such a flat tone you almost found it in you to laugh, yourself. “So you were this touchy.”

Sighing deeply, you shook your head slightly glancing back up and Jon had purposely returned to the deer in front of him. Catching only your eyes with a playful glint before looking back down. Your attention glancing over to Ghost, who was relaxed as could be watching it all play out. “I thought we were a team.”

Letting out a tiny huff as he only rested his head down more, Jon laughed again. That time your eyes rolled into the back of your head, now trying to ignore them both. There was work to be done before leaving, and Jon would keep you here going back and forth far longer then time should permit.

Not that time wasn't all you had out here.

By all estimations, only a fortnight had passed. The first days of it were as unremarkable as they somehow were the toughest. Getting used to being out in such cold without any stop was something you were not yet used too. Even a building of four stone walls around a person and no fire would have done more to keep the cold out then nothing at all.

You didn't complain, but the chill sat in your bones for those early days passed. Naturally, it was as if it bothered Jon none. He didn't even seen to notice any difference of cold out here then he would in the North of his home, tending to this exactly the same but out in this open. Or, somewhat open.

The Haunted Forest went on and on for most of the known lands of beyond the Wall. It was where much travelling would be done until nearing the mountain ranges leading to the Fist of the First Men, but that was not for a while would you two get there. So for now, it was a vast array of snowy woods and forests that gave strange sight to an endless land you knew nothing about.

Once lands you heard about in stories, of dangerous creatures roaming any which way. Of the blood thirsty wildlings, ready to snatch and savage any woman they could find and their terror was why no women could ever join the Nights Watch. Instead, the lands were empty.

Wildlife still lived here, yes, but other then Jon and yourself, the only other living things anywhere by were two horses and Ghost. Nothing else was around, as if everything too had gone into hiding. Leaving the sights to not be noticed by whatever cold could come sweeping through at any moment. Likely looking out in the sunlight thinking the small party of travellers were fools heading the wrong way in the open lands to be spotted.

Some days it felt like that. In the dark of night, if high enough in the lands near a clearing, you could stand by an edge and see the shimmering green in the distance. It felt like a torment, knowing it was drawing you two near to the end, but the determination of cause acted as an invisible force pulling you towards that end anyways. But you didn't talk about it. Not now.

You both knew that this might be a journey only going one direction, but you had time for now to not think about it. The furthest any have ever gone and come back that you knew any truth of, were the Frost Fangs and it would take months to reach there. You could feel that impending, morose sense of doom when that night shimmer of green drew as close as the hospitable lands lasted. Only then would you have to face that reality. Or want too.

“How far do they go on for?”

You had asked looking at the maps, eyes trained directly over the ends of it which showed no direct ending of something. Jon had leaned more into your side, the press of a hand firmly on your lower back running ever so slightly up your spine a tad before dropping back down. Murmuring quietly, as he looked between you and the map. “We don't know. No one's ever been recorded to survive far enough to know where it ends.”

Any maps of it cut off, as if guessing it could not be assumed the degree of it's vastness and so much of it was lands none could go, see, or touch. It was something as if to keep something out, separating whatever was in there from man being able to travel freely into it. “Some say if you sail west long enough you'll end up in the furthest east edges of Essos. Maybe if you travel long enough North, you'll end up walking into the start of the Sunset Sea.”

It was quiet between you both for only a moment until Jon murmured, “Didn't you used to think the world was flat?” What was flat, was the expression on your face it fell into. Arguing back under your breath that you were eight when you thought that. “Thought you were the smart one.”

Were Jon not far stronger then you, and standing far too close to gain any upper hand against, you might have turned and shoved him for that. But still, your eyes drifted to it once more, the way the map cut off without any notion of if it continued passed that point. Gloved fingertips tapping gently against the edge of Thenn, you pushed that sensation down.

Worry about the unknown when you get there you told yourself. Worry about it then.

The days were easy, still enough time of sun in the sky to get a decent amount of the way into the lands, before finding a place to stop. Once nightfall hit though, there was no more place for a fair back and forth debate of plans. Once the sun fell beyond the sky, it was Jons word alone. He knew what lurked in the dark here far more then you did, he didn't want any risk of you finding yourself out of his sight once the only light guiding you was that from the moon, and the whatever fires sat in the middle of your camp.

But the daytime, with light everywhere shining even brighter against nothing but the white snow, it was far easier to see Jon smile and joke. Less to find in a determined terror, he could relax knowing at the least, what threats existed here some time ago no longer were to always look out for. The wildlings were once the enemy to watch out for, but now the enemy was something far different, and it hunted at night. Not in the light of day as you two travelled in.

Six villages this far you both had passed, and each according to Jon had been abandoned long before he saw them the first time. “Some fled, trying to get south of the Wall. Most joined up with Mance Rayder, though.”

Brows narrowing in the slightest, your eyes remained trained looking mostly up and around. The forest paths were a bit longer, but provided the most safe path. Yet gave nothing lacking in sights to take in, almost as if you were as surprised now how far it went on for as you were seeing the wolfswood when a girl. Voice a bit distant, as you eyes caught sight of Ghost following beside him. “Doesn't sound much like a plan. Going to war with the Nights Watch, but what happens when they crossed it? The Seven Kingdoms forgets how they got there?”

It took him a moment to answer, it had been some time since he thought back so those days so vividly, but now it was all around in him memory as it was new for you. “Don't think he had one.” Catching your gaze as you turned to look at him with a question, he elaborated further. “Mance was trying to protect his people, get them south of the Wall before winter came. It took him years to get them all in the same place, but I think that's as far as he got.”

Inhaling a bit, you considered such a fact before jumping to any unfair conclusions. As easy as it would be to. “I suppose when your primary goal is trying to not die, everything else tends to be secondary to that.” A small glint shining in the greys of his eyes spoke enough, and it almost succeeded in bringing the smallest of smiles from you before looking away. “Can we really say we aren't trying if we've both already done it before?”

Matching yours with a bit more ease, your eyes flickered to the side briefly enough to catch a smile much more free on his face, the lightness as he spoke matched as well. “We aren't out here to protect ourselves, we're doing it for our people.”

Almost interrupting his thought, you found the alternate path he was headed towards. “I'm not trying to disrespect the man. I didn't even know him. I'm only saying it doesn't seem like a great plan, if the only option he had if he had crossed was for his people to roll over everything and everyone for a thousand miles.”

A curiosity sat in Jons eyes as he watched you, no malice sat in your expression or tone but you also understood war in a different way then Jon did. The war you've seen were vast and traditional, it was difficult to change such a point of view to that of pure survival when the one you marched into with Robb was so different.

“Can't imagine what he'd say now. Learning in the end the one who betrayed him, brought all his people south without any more fighting over it.”

It caught him off guard you suspected, how quickly it slipped from your mouth without thought behind it. “What do you call getting stabbed in the middle of the courtyard, then?” Your eyes peeled over to his, and a darker bemused glaze sat in his as a nonchalant jest of smug sat in yours.

Lowering a tone in deepness, Jon was short as he replied back. “They didn't kill me for that.” You only muttered that it likely didn't help the matter, but you trusted neither of you felt any blame one way or the other. Not for that anymore, not now. “Trust me, Ser Alliser had wanted an excuse for years. Only matter of time it was before he found a good one.”

“Why?” Turning to look, everything of playfulness had dropped. You barley knew him, but you knew enough to feel the spite returning as it did that first meeting. “Why did he hate you so much? No one that day could give me a real reason.”

But Jon also sighed, looking forward once more and yet also back into such early days so long ago. Back when the worst of his life he thought was being left at the Wall by his father and leaving you to his brother. “I don't know. He did from the moment I got there. It didn't help things when I tried to kill him.”

How he almost managed to get you to pass that by, with the manner he dropped it as you knew that information. Turning with a bit of an open mouth, your eyes shined in wonder he didn't look at. “We're discussing why he hated you, and you somehow didn't think to mention that first?”

“It was only in my first few months. It was after you and my father were arrested, Ser Alliser insulted him in front of me,” Pausing you knew images and memories of what was likely an anger sunk back into his bloodstream. “Before he knew it, I was going at him with a knife. If Grenn and Pyp weren't there to stop me, I would've done it too.”

In one way it was difficult to look at Jon now and imagine such an impulsive action, but you knew the Jon then and his handle on his temper was one. His lack of willingness to control that temper on behalf of the love for his own family, was another completely. “Call it bias, but I can't say I disapprove that you tried. I barley knew him for hours and already I didn't know how you put up with that as long as you did.”

A huff of a laugh came from Jon, “You cut his head off after only knowing him for hours.”

“Someone had to finish the job in your honour.” For a moment nothing was said, until you felt that watching feeling. Turning slightly to glance at Jon, you regretted it in a moment. The look in his eye was undoubtable. “Jon. You cannot possibly be thinking about that right now.” Asking with a rougher tone why not, you felt the fluster wishing to come up your chest. Biting your tongue before finding a much more collected answer not looking his way. “There is nothing appealing about what I did.”

Jon though, switched between watching the path head and glancing to you with the same low words he irritatingly knew got to you. “You killing a man isn't what's appealing. It's how passionate you were about doing it to defend me.” There was little doubt Jon was using how much you were purposely not looking his way against you. “You'd feel the same if it were me, why can't I return that?”

Stammering a bit, your jaw clenched trying to focus. You knew what he was doing. Jon had been at this for the past three days. Trying to gauge how much more needy you were getting and enjoying all too much how hard you worked to pretend you weren't worked up more often now. If you recalled, two months was around when you begun to feel rather needy for Robb as well.

At least you two were in a camp full of soldiers. Jon had you out in the open North with no soul around for hundreds if not a thousand miles to see you but the guarding direwolf beside him. Muttering back low enough he heard, but quiet that you knew you were trying to push passed his intentions. “There's only so much daylight on our side, we can't stop everytime you-”

“Everytime I what? Want you? Everytime I want to shove you against a tree and-” You with much more of an obvious fluster all but shouted his name with wide, embarrassed eyes and instantly he laughed. “Gods, you're making it too easy.”

Oh it was even worse then what you thought. “Maybe I'm not sensitive, maybe you're just being mean, your Grace.” He didn't say anything and you both knew you were not looking at the glint in his eye on purpose. Instead, he left it in the open air, a tease or riling up it could go in either path. He was unpredictable in how mean he could be now that he had you all alone.

Further into the day you'd get and as the sun would continue to fall it was Jons keen eye which would search for a place to stop and always with enough time to settle before night fell. Arguing that it may take longer by being so strict about not travelling at night, but once it was dark and you both could look North and see the glowing green waiting for you, it was difficult to find reason to distrust his instincts.

For now, enough sun remained that he beckoned you to follow, circling more up a path to a small cliff side edge. Jon would always climb from his horse first, keeping you there until he had every reason to suspect there was nothing waiting behind any shadow.

A fortnight passed and the routine was beginning to come easy. Settling the horses first, food, water, they were the easy part. Jon nodding for Ghost to go with you as you gathered wood for a fire insisting he could handle things from there. Though, you were well aware he was giving you the less labour intensive job, with no amount of reminders that only two months you could still do everything you used to. The first night out here, Jon merely pulled you in to press his lips gently to your forehead before shoving you off a bit, murmuring, “Stop arguing.”

When you had pointed out that wasn't anywhere near an argument he had smirked. The next night he simply gave you things to do right away instead of taking over what you already started. Now you just knew better, and no amount of knowing you could do more would make it feel better in his head. So you let him give you the easier tasks, knowing it was thus lighter on the weight bearing down on his shoulders about it.

You did not think of it in that manner at all, but you knew too well, there was already much guilt in his heart. To Jon, he had dragged his pregnant wife out into the far North not knowing if you two would ever come back. He had no choice in bringing you, but he would blame himself if you made his worries any worse then they needed to be.

Ghost at least, had a much more direct manner of ordering you around. He was large after all. The direwolf would simply nudge you to the side out of his way if he decided you were not fit to carry the heavy object in question. There was no mistakening why Jon was the one Ghost bonded too. They were essentially the same person within two different entities.

On many occasions, when you would put down enough branches into the pile collecting, Ghost would saunter up and snatch a large amount in his mouth and look at you expectantly to pick up the smaller amount left. A playfulness in his eyes as he would wait for you, knowing you'd inevitably run your gloved hand over his head and ears first. Picking the rest up that early evening, you looked back up to the direwolf with a brightness in your eyes. “He wasn't so far off when he said we already have a child, was he?”

If Ghost could shake his head like a human to agree, he would have. Sometimes it was striking, how used to him you were. Moreso out here it came to you. In what a direwolf's natural home would be, Ghost fit into it perfectly and yet also was more human then some men ever behaved as. You had only ever spent a significant amount of time around three of them, and it was interesting to see what traits of their companions they took after.

Robb could be just as troublesome and playful, but Grey Wind always represented the assertive independence, the part of Robb that was undoubtedly a King was what was found in his direwolf. Jon had all the same aspects of him as a King, and yet it was his playful and gentle side which was found within Ghost. You could almost wonder if they were there, meant to bring out the best in their human companions which otherwise might not have come out so easily.

But there was a third you knew, and you didn't prefer to think of why you knew the direwolf that much. If you let yourself you could still see her face as you and Lord Stark approached her. The cutest wolf you'd ever seen, and yet she had not a clue what you were there for.

Nudging you slightly, Ghost brought you out of such a memory. Still crouching on the ground, you smiled at him before gathering the rest up. You didn't want to think about that now, what it meant. How Ghost seemed to tie so deeply into the strange abilities which seemed to exist in Jons blood, and what it meant when you help take a wolfs life away without taking the human with it.

You knew he was aware you were back, but you preferred not to interrupt when he did this part, letting him focus solely on setting things up. Already having the base of a fire going for you, your next task begun. It was nothing one could ever call a grand meal, but once the evening sky turned gold, you knew as long as wildlife was around to take advantage of, you'd make best of what you had.

Jon left nothing up to chance. With only the three of you, taking turns staying up to keep watch was not sustainable. If you'd all be asleep come dark, Jon was ensuring anything coming his way would be heard before getting there. And knowing it was not the free folk coming to hunt him down for being a crow he was on the watch for, but the blue eyed dead which could come at anytime.

Turning back though, something in his heart took a skip. It was a sight strange to him, but he had once been desperate for it. Travelling with her, there was not one day he'd wake and not prey to the gods to let it be you he'd see. Instead it was always her, and it always put him on edge no matter how recently he awoke. Jon would wish it would be you there with him, it was all he wanted, all he focused on to get through it all with his sanity.

But the sight he came upon? The camp now set, serving as what home he could give you in this place, you were a strange blend. The sheepskin was not unlike what the free folk would wear to endure such cold so normally, and Jon found himself both hating it and loving it. He hated it, because he wanted to bring you home. Let you wear the dresses he knew you preferred and live in the comfort you deserved to have. But he also loved it.

It was what he would want in his most insecure days. Dreaming of taking you into this very North to live a life where your love was not disapproved of so heavily. You knelt by the fire with a small narrowing in your expression as he knew you were trying to make something good rather then edible alone, as if it were normal. Jon knew you weren't sure of your place here, but he stood there with his heart floating in his chest at how natural you were in whichever kind of life he dragged you into.

But here beyond the Wall, you didn't fit. Or, you shouldn't have fit. A highborn girl, born in luxury within the royal family. Nothing but expensive, beautiful dresses made from fine silk, taught how to be a lady and you presented yourself as such. Smart and well read, but sweet and innocent enough that it made men everywhere want you even if you refused to believe him when he said it.

In your home you were a Queen, and you grew up the closest thing to a princess a girl could get and yet you were here with him. In a frozen land, making your way deep into such difficult inhospitable lands and giving up everything to do so. You were always more to Jon then just a pretty maiden, but for everything you deserved to be, he felt something so warm in his chest at the manner which you worked in the small campsite as if it were everything you needed anyways.

Maybe it was being back out here doing it, but something was filling him with an adoring pride at being able to call you his, knowing that you were exactly the kind of girl Ygritte made fun of. But here you were, surviving the same lands she did, but all without making fun of her for any opposite. You fit her clothes as much as your own, when Ygritte would rather have burned yours then even pretend she could fit into them.

Ygritte would've hated everything about you, and it made him feel all the more angry at her for it. Even after all this time, standing there knowing you were his wife, carrying his child, and following him to the genuine ends of the known world when you should be home in Winterfell in comfort.

These were the lands of her home, and maybe he thought, if she could watch him now, she'd understand that the man she forced him to pretend to be was nothing of who he wanted to be. Maybe she'd finally understand he willingly shared with you what she forced him to pretend to want to give. Maybe Jon thought, he should make love to you under the night sky even just once, so she could see what love was, and why Jon would never have given it to her.

By the time Jon returned, you gave him a small smile glancing from your focus. “Perfect timing, your food is just about ready.” He said nothing as you worked, not that you took any notice, you didn't need him to fill the air every moment. You were fine knowing he was in your sights by the fire now.

It was one of the few times you found something resembling a normal feeling out here. By the fire as the sun set, even past the sting of the cold everywhere else, you would look to Jon and feel a bit less unsure about it all. You both had a long way to go, but quiet moments of normalcy here, nothing but Jon and Ghost at your side, it felt as if you truly were supposed to be here. “What?”

Registering the question in your head, bringing you back to notice now Jons gaze was set directly onto you with curiosity. For only a second did you give yourself that time further to entrench yourself in that feeling before swallowing such sappiness back down where it belongs. Turning your attention back to what was boiling, you told a half truth. “My apologies, your Grace. I'll admire you out of sight next time.”

Shaking his head with an amusement, Jon choose to not reply to that. Likely knowing flustering you as you were perched over a hot fire was not the correct time to do so.

“I'm taking us on a different path then we planned tomorrow.” Glancing up at him later into the evening, your mid bite allowing him to simply elaborate for you. “We'll set up came earlier, but there's somewhere I want to go. Something I need to see before I lose the chance.”

Agreeing with whatever his plan was, you could see a distance in his eyes finding the flames. Lost in a memory you were too apprehensive to interrupt to ask about. A whole lifetime passed for Jon both in the Nights Watch and in the far north here, and sometimes it was easy to forget how little you knew of his life in the years you were apart.

Clever he was, picking to choose when to bring it back up. Kneeling behind you a the sky fell dark properly, carefully untangling the natural mess from the day in your hair as night truly begun to sink down on the North. A low murmur right in your ear, warm breath dancing along the skin and almost shivering down your spine as a result. “It seems dark enough to say we're not going anywhere now.”

A smile falling on your lips as you leaned a bit back more into his warm touch. “What is there to say about it? You were there, you saw what I did.”

Shifting part of your hair to one side, a flutter of your eyes came about as Jon rasped deep into your ear before leaning down to press his lips to your neck ever so gently. A free hand of his sat firmly on your upper arm, the other running up and down your opposite arm toying with the idea of finding your waist as he spoke. “I know you, and I know you wouldn't have done it without getting him to confess in front of everyone.” Asking lightly if Edd hadn't told him, but Jon only pressed another kiss to your neck, lingering longer that time. “He did, but he's not the one who made that choice. He wasn't the one who did it. Had you ever done it before yourself?”

Shaking your head only slightly as to not disturb his warm place by your neck, a little bit of airiness poked through the memory thinking back of it. “I killed before, but never in that way. Robb was the one who did it, I stood with him but he swung the sword.” Only quiet followed, but Jon shifted a bit to lean more back against the rock side behind, pulling your back into his chest properly. One arm wrapping across your front and sitting by your other shoulder, rightly anticipating you reaching one hand up to wrap with his there.

His other did as he always did in such a position now. As his brother once had. Firmly against the front of your stomach. Jon liked to find his hand soothing over your scar, but now you knew the possessive nature behind it had grown to something else. “Why not get someone else to do it? No one would have blamed you.”

The weight trapped in your throat, it did none to let you swallow the flood of raw grief that you had no more need to feel. He was behind you, he was alive with you, but it felt as fresh as it had in the same hours that day. “No one took responsibility for it. The ones who knew, the men I spoke to who all pointed the finger at Ser Alliser without even knowing the truth. Everyone knew it was him, and he was allowed to walk around as if he had been waiting for such a day for years.”

Nudging the side of your head with his, you turned more to the sensation without committing to trying to seek out his eyes. Were you anywhere but in his arms, Jon wouldn't have been heard. “It wasn't your fault- no darling, we're not doing this again. He wanted me dead for years, he only used me going after you as an excuse. It wasn't your duty to take justice, you shouldn't have had to.”

Mumbling a bit, there was a chance of none Jon did not pick up the wavering. “I thought you found me defending your honour attractive.”

A chuckle hummed in your ear, Jons thumb reaching up to brush against what of your chin and jaw he could from such an angle. “I do, but that doesn't mean it wasn't hard for you. I never avenged you and Robb when I had the chance, so yes it's important to me that you did for me what I didn't for you.”

You weren't sure why it was what came out, but it did and quickly. “You know what made me angry the most? Thinking that your last moments, you were forced to die alone. No one was there who cared, just let you bleed out in the snow before hiding what they had done.” Your grip on the hand close to your shoulder tightened, Jon returning the change right away as you tried to almost force the sting behind your eyes away through that alone. “He said to me he should have left you outside the gates, force me to freeze to death with you but it wouldn't have changed anything. It wouldn't have changed that you were alone. I came back without him, but at least Robb and I were with each other when it happened. The last thing the other saw, but I couldn't stand the idea of Ser Alliser getting to walk around free when he forced you to die thinking you had no one.”

His rasp deep and warm right by your ear, his hands pulling you back more into him were such a feat even possible. “When I finally realized what happened, when I was in Ghosts mind, if you hadn't come through those gates that morning I would've gone looking for you anyways. I couldn't stand thinking you were somewhere out there, thinking no one was left to care about protecting you. I didn't care what the others thought, even if I was going alone I needed you to know I cared, I needed you to know I still loved you more then anything else.”

“And that's why I had to execute him myself. I still loved you, and even though I couldn't get there in time to save you, I'd protect whatever you had left. From any of them.”

Hiding somewhat in your neck and partially in your hair, Jon stayed there. Muffled against you as you tried to lean and return the gesture back from such a spot. “I'm starting to think we've never been normal about each other.” Your breathy laugh caused a deeper one to rumble through his chest into your back. “Am I wrong?”

Rising up suddenly, he left your hand go to tilt rest at your other cheek pulling you so he could press is lips to the side of your head as he continued. “The old me would have never done any of that seeing you alive again the first time. Not right away. I'd have at least waited until I had you in a warm bed to tear your clothes off.” Running his thumb up and down your cheek still, the leather somewhat cold against the wind. “Would have said more then three words to you.”

Turning suddenly, Jons hands settled on your hips as you straddled his lap. Perched on his shoulders, able to run along his exposed neck while it was not hidden away by his curls. Bright was all your eyes shined at him with, and a sickening adoration you found yourself unwilling to downplay as he found the same instinct right back. “If I recall, I wasn't exactly begging for you to stop.”

There it was, that tease in his eyes which shined so perfectly. The need in him to hold you tighter and closer with the obstacle of how covered up you both were out in the cold. “As soon as I had your shirt off, you were desperate to get mine off too.” Leaning forward more, hands cupping both sides of his face against the scratch of his facial hair, Jon moved one of his to hold you steady up your spine as he followed suit and sat up to meet you closer.

Just barley nudging your nose with his as you tempted yourself with kissing him, eyes darting back and forth between his lips and closing to enjoy the proximity. “I was desperate for you the moment you kissed me, think I'm always a bit desperate for you. Don't know what's happened, you came back and all I want to do is hand my body over to you for whatever you could possibly want.”

Jaw clenching tightly, Jon drifted that hand up to run through the hair down your back. Slinking through the stands he had so recently smoothed out and grasping a hold of it much more tightly. Words slurring together a bit the more worked up you knew he felt. “If I did whatever I wanted to you, you wouldn't even be able to walk when I'm done. I don't know I'd even let you, maybe I'd keep you tied to by bed. Stripped and bare, legs spread for me the moment I walk in, whenever I want.”

Swallowing harsh, Jon had spotted it no doubt. Breathless against him, lightheaded in the need growing the longer you sat there but he made forgetting everything around you in his favour too common. You hadn't even said a word, only nodding obediently.

The thicker his accent, the more worked up he was, and it was as thick as could be, murmuring against your lips. “All I'd have to do is taste you for hours. Drink between your legs and never let you cum until you'd beg me for anything. That's when I'd ask, when I'd suggest it, any of it. Show you why you've always belonged to me.”

Dropping your head slightly, forcing a whine back down your throat even though Jon could feel you desperately attempting to not grind down onto him. Reaching up from your waist, Jon tilted your chin to force your gaze to meet his. Brows furrowed in a seriousness before he lurched forward. Capturing your lips with his, bruising and rough in the moment he kissed you and only pulling you closer by the hand tight in your hair.

Your hands wrapping instantly around the back of his neck, you let him deepen the kiss as he moved his lips, soft and perfect against your needy ones. Teeth nibbling at your bottom lip and you parted ways for him almost too instantly, almost too obediently. He hadn't even asked yet, but took full advantage to slid his tongue into your mouth, brushing against yours.

Keeping your lips against his, the hand at the back of your head loosening his grip only enough to slink through the strands of your hair more. Not so forcefully tight but almost controlling, his large hand pressing the back of your head to keep your lips all to himself. Stealing your every breathe but you pressed against his front as much as you could, almost wishing you could still give him more.

Only a fortnight passed which you two were alone out here, and already Jon had you utterly weak for him in such a powerful way. Nothing and no one to distract you from the burning inside your lungs which pleaded his name for more. Licking the inside of your mouth, you tried to brush against his tongue back but he kissed you just the way he wanted, you surrendering all control to him, begging for each break in the kiss to come back, chasing his lips once more Jon never refused.

But in the cold of night, you could hardly share as much as you were desperate for. Pulling back from your lips, saliva not even breaking between you as Jon husked out deep as anything, “I wanted to make love to you here, take you under the stars, but not tonight, not yet.”

Surging upwards, Jon hauled you to your feet along with him by your hips before pressing his lips to yours once more. Pulling back just as you gasped from the suddenness, “I'll take care of things here, I want you to lay down for me.” Your nod, eyes fluttering closed, was not enough. Calling your name to attention, meeting his eyes black in their desire. “Alright?”

“Alright.” A hand ran down your hair gently, and prompted you as if nothing was out of the ordinary, to where the tent was firmly set, waiting to hide you from the cold properly.

You knew the routine, after all, only the two of you it was easy to find new patterns with one another and Jon was not a difficult man for you to read. A laugh leaving you gently right away, tucked away on one side, curled up as if being in a ball did not make him one very large patch of fur, Ghost barley took notice to you interrupting the lack of cold as you moved inside.

Shocking it was how easy it was for the cold to seem so much less permanent hidden by the simplicity of four walls, or what makeshift walls a tent of such size served as. The sheepskin was the first to come off of your torso, tearing it from you to the dark shirt long down your arms underneath. Part of you wanted to sigh, you did every night.

It was as if you were in the Westlands all over again. How much wearing things such as this day in and out made you miss your dresses. Truly, you didn't know how men did it. You hated having to dance to get even most of your heavy layers off and even then your legs still firmly hidden away. In the outside it was nice, when you were in here, it was nothing but an annoyance.

Only two of you, not much could be taken. But the material hiding the snowy ground was thick enough you couldn't feel the cold under it, and at the least the fur on top was as close to the comfort of Jons bed as you two could recreate.

Listing off in your head what he was doing, knowing the routine set which you almost had down to exactly when he'd do what, right up to matching in your head the approaching of footsteps coming your way. The fire no doubt hidden as embers to not catch any possible chance of attention, it left not a peek of light as your eyes adjusted to the darkness.

Laid back somewhat, perched up by your palms against the fur, you watched as Jons figure only briefly brought the cold and light in with him before hiding away again. The sounds of boots coming off and layers shedding, you had not a clue what he left until the feeling of his warmth came to you.

Keeling down on the fur over top of you, Jon crawled over to force your back against the floor of the tent. Your hands seeking him to find he had nothing on, not a thing and yet he was so warm. The brushing of his curls now loose danced over you as Jon reached for the bottom of your own shirt. Pulling it up and tossed away to the pile without another thought. Your pants next he gently pulled them down and nothing left was in his way.

Crawling back over, one hand cupped the side of your cheek and jaw, moving your lips perfectly into place as he pressed his bare frame over yours. Your legs spreading as they bent to seek home by his hips, Jon used the other to cup the back of your head. Keeping your lips to his as he guided you to follow in his kiss. Nothing but the gentle sound of his lips moving with yours was around. Not the sounds of outside, not the crackling of a fire always close in any room. Just the two of you, as your hands roamed his shoulders and back.

Not a shred of the roughness he took you with earlier, moving from your lips down to your neck, not biting. Just his lips, his tongue, still taking his opportunity to suck marks deep into your neck, you gasped loudly as your back arched up into him. The hand on your jaw, now wrapping around your waist, keeping your hips pressed to his, the feeling of his cock hard running along you as if he could simply ignore it.

Your heart pounding in your chest the further his lips moved, your breathing heaving your chest as he came down to them. Grasping each in a rough hand, that time your gasp was far sharper, far more high pitched as you almost didn't contain a whine along with it. His eyes adjusted better then yours, Jons gaze shot up to you. Muttering quiet with a thick rasp, “Shh, darling. I know, they're sensitive this way, barley have to touch you anywhere else now.”

Your head falling back to the ground, your hands wanted to keep holding onto Jon, but his shoulders too far down to wrap around properly, only nails digging in slightly as you mumbled back. “No, please, please I need you-”

Pressing his lips gentle to each breast, despite caressing and groping them tightly together, he reassured you with deep tones to seduce rather then calm. “I'll touch you I promise, but these,” Groping more before his fingers found your nipples in a more pinch that had you gasp for him again. “You're so sensitive now, carrying my child...” More and more your core twisted at the sparks he sent through your breasts.

He was right, they were so much more sensitive now and Jon adored it. You nodded despite not knowing if he could even see, but your tongue was stinging being bitten down on to contain yourself, the worry that how suddenly Jon touch burned you would seem depraved and unhinged, but you felt it with such need as he twisted the buds of your breasts, giving them a tug before letting one hand go back to grasping to replace the twisting sensation with a bite.

A hand finding his curls, grounding yourself before you floated away Jon bit at your nipples before sinking his teeth into the skin around it. Leaving a sheen of cold from his saliva when he would drifted, only to switch to the other. His hand now yanking at the nipple against your breast stinging from how much you knew he marked it in colours.

Biting down against the other, your core burned and twisted right until you felt tears leave the corners of your eyes from where you lay, but always arching into his touch. He couldn't you thought, he couldn't finish you just from this surely. But if that were the case, why were your hips almost grinding up into his, feeling the brush of his cock.

Moving away, Jon looked up to you with a tilt of his head. “You're not going to cum for me, just from this alone..” Testing the waters, he groped them roughly with his thumbs running along your nipples and the manner in which it twisted in your gut would be embarrassing had Jon not dropped his head slightly. “Fuck..” Before returning right back. Taking your nipples between his teeth and increasing the roughness every passing cry.

It was so quick, the build without anything but the slight brushing of his cock against your core, but it was too fast. It had you shiver in his touch not from the cold, but your hands tightened in his hair. A growl leaving him at the tug, you did it again only for Jon to bite down at your breasts harder. You could feel how much they were going to sting come morning but you craved it.

“Come on.” Muttering against you, as he yanked at them once more. But it was the return of his lips to your neck which did you in. It felt humiliating, an orgasm coming from his touch at your breasts alone but you writhed up into him almost desperate for your breasts to be let go. Sloppily trailing to your lips, Jon captured another kiss as he muttered under his breath, nothing but inaudible swears until he slunk to your ear with hot breaths. “I'm not done.”

That time he did not pace himself down your body. Somewhat sitting up, Jon grasped your hips, yanking you to pull down the fur. Pulling your legs over his shoulders, Jon leaned down enough so your back remained flat but his grip on your hips kept you hoisted in the air, and more notably, kept you wide open for his mouth at his desire.

Grateful for the hidden acts, knowing were you to see the utter display Jon had you in, you would feel nothing in your bones but a deep shame at what you were willing to let him do. Licking a path right from your core up to your clit, he gave the same treatment to it as he did your breasts, teeth scraping against the bundle of nerves before sucking at it. Cries leaving you without notice but the feeling of how wet you were not anything to Jon but a feast.

Tongue flat against you, licking down before shifting enough so one hand slid down to cup a cheek of your ass, as if keeping you perched right for his tasting. Licking deep inside of you, the spinning in your head immense as you soaked him with every brush of his tongue inside. Warm his mouth was against already your warm cunt, the winter outside need not exist as the sweat built up the more you cried out, hands grasping at the fur beneath you tightly.

Grunting into you, fingertips digging roughly into your ass to the degree you felt his nails carving half moons into the skin. His other hand firmly at your hip keeping you trapped in such a position, and yet your hands yearned to touch him. To let him touch you, but words couldn't escape between breathe of pleads and begs of his name for something your desire could hardly ask for through the fog.

Nose nudging against your clit, every bit of wetness you soaked him with was not let escape to find your skin. Only his tongue, as Jon felt the pounding in his heart as his insides burned how much he could loose his senses this way. Your begs for him were the only sound he needed, knowing if he kept you this way, you'd cling to him so needy when he finally climbed back over top of you. For now though, he guided you into that darkness more around you, sucking back at your clit before nibbling down and tearing gasps from your lips.

Drinking from your cunt, were they not closed, Jons eyes may have rolled into the back of his head, the taste was so heavy but so perfect. You gave no man this but Jon, it belonged to him, this taste belonged to him and not even a sliver of what you were like down here could match to such a feast.

Were the end of you both coming to the destination of this journey, the only meal Jon wished to have before you both went was this. He'd keep you on his mouth and tongue as long as he possibly could, he knew he would need this. Almost every night Jon wanted to let his tongue run along your soaking, sensitive walls until you gifted him more of your wetness.

Which you continued to do, begging his name.

“Gods, Jon..please, you're-gods you're so good, so perfect..” Sometimes you knew you spoke but not a clue what words truly came out of your mouth. But that core inside you burned and twisted and turned until you felt your legs tensing around him, but Jon only held you tighter against his ravenous mouth.

Growling into you, it vibrated against your walls and dragged you over that edge. Tongue soaking up every slick of orgasm you poured into his mouth. Breathless cries leaving you, but Jon only growled more the longer you came, the longer you let him lick inside your cunt the perfect taste.

Only when your legs started to tense and almost pull away did Jon tear from you. Letting your legs drop, spread wide for him did he let you heave in need for air, hand running along his mouth to gather what remained before crawling back over you, hoisting your legs back up to his hips, muttering against your lips so close you already could taste what remained on him of you. “Wrap them around me.”

Somehow relaxing now that your arms could follow your legs, the later at his hips and hooking around his back and your arms wrapping around his shoulders as your nails scratched into him. His kiss deep and forcing his tongue into your needing mouth to brush against yours, making you taste yourself the way he couldn't stop craving.

A hand cupping the back of your head to keep your kiss against his lips, Jon spared no more time as he used his other hand to grasp your hip. In one single, smooth and soaking thrust Jons cock stretched you thick, sinking as deep as he could go without any resistance despite how tightly you clenched around him. Your nails carving into his back, tearing himself from your lips in almost a snarl at the sting, despite such an innocent look on your face, overwhelmed at how much his cock filled you.

Jon knew by now, he had utterly ruined everything that once made you so pure.

It wasn't the cold causing you to shiver as such, the slow drag of his cock against the most sensitive walls inside of you, making you feel his every inch. Only when he was sat deep inside of you did Jon press his forehead against yours, rasping through such a gruff need. “I'm bringing us home. All four of us, I promise.”

Eyes hooded from the spark flying through your veins, you sought after his kiss. Muttering between each press of your lips, “Stay with me, that's all I need. No matter what, that's all I need..” Pushing you back into the furs to deepen the kiss, you felt the protest in him but you raked your hands through his curls almost soothingly.

You didn't need any promises but that you'd be together. Everything you needed was already with you, right in this tent and that was all you could ever ask the gods for. Slowly, Jon begun to slide his cock almost all the way out, only the tip still inside you and he thrusted back in you just as slow. A burn hardly out of control much like the embers of the fire outside, enough to keep you going but dim and soothing instead of wild and out of control.

Breathing heavy between you both as each slid of his cock snug inside you had you cry out, and each time you clenched around such a sting he gave you Jon eased you with a kiss. For every way he could take you, nothing was ever more overwhelming then when he fucked so calm, slowly, taking his time instead of tearing you apart. One hand high on your waist slid down, running over the scar with a pressure knowing he was trying to feel any changes yet.

Brows furrowing you knew he was trying to figure it out, what did you feel like the night before what could he be imagining from hope, but your cries tore him back to the present. Somewhat hiding in his neck, you burned white hot within you, you were soaking his cock you knew it. Every thrust it got worse but you might cry if he stopped, if he pulled out. Grasping desperately around his back and shoulders, Jon tried to shift so he ran a hand down what he could of your hair.

“I know, darling. I know. It's a lot.” Nodding against him, he never changed his pace, never moved how hard he thrusted into you, but your muscles shook as your mind fogged. So hazy he could say anything and you'd nod in agreement as long as he kept his cock inside you.

Closer and closer the building in your core got, the more Jon buried his face in your hair in return. Trying to keep above instead of pressing you into the furs, but you let a whine escape enough that Jon almost groaned in your ear, even moreso when you begged so sweetly. “Please Jon, please, I want you to finish with me..please..”

Turning to kiss the side of your head, Jon nodded against you after. “I'm close, show me what you learned.” Hesitantly, you let a hand around his shoulder slide away. Drifting down between your bodies, Jon knew you found it the moment you jumped the slightest in his arms. “That's it, come on,”

Slowly sliding in and out, you refused to touch your clit at any pace Jon was not setting. Rubbing just slight circles, trying to find the right feeling when he bit at your ear, hissing against it. “Don't overthink it.”

It was a little easier, telling yourself once again to focus on his cock inside of you and you followed as such so naturally. Pressing your forehead against his, you felt his cock throbbing inside of you just as the heat in you burned enough the coil twisted tightly, small needing cries left muffled into his neck and clenching tight around.

Just as it released, just as the desire flooded your veins with a beg of his name did Jon groan yours. Pressing you flat against the fur, but not before he snatched your hand from your clit. Pushing it against the fur as well beside your head, Jon interlocked your fingers together as he pulled back to capture your lips into a rough kiss. Thick and hot, his seed spilled inside of you at the deepest point, your hand grasping somewhat at his waist beckoning him almost further.

Slow thrusts moved down to slower, and slower before almost hardly being considered moving as you and Jon both lost each other in his kiss. As if you weren't already carrying his child, Jon refused to leave as if you needed to be filled with his seed at any time.

Gentle brushes of his tongue against yours, just to coax you back to him. Smaller kisses being pressed back to your lips each time he pulled away, followed by a longer, more chaste kiss as he slowly pulled out of you. Running a hand up and down your hip and keeping your fingers interlocked on the other side as he did so. Murmuring the moment he led up, “I love you.”

For the sweat and seed shared between your bare bodies, Jon let out a boyish smile and chuckle along with it. Pressing a kiss to your lips once more muttering, “And I love you.” Until the after shocks would settle, Jon kept you in his neck and his face in your hair, running hands over one another.

Only when you could kiss him back without gasping for any air once more, Jon finally turned you in his arms. Pulling your back firmly against his chest as he pressed his hand once again firmly against your stomach. Both nuzzling back into the other, you both were fine if sleep was harder to come by out here as long as you'd find it wrapped in one another like this.

It was but another grim day in the sky, but such things felt normal no matter where in the North one travelled. Climbing off your horse, you gently led him over to where a few posts still remained, albeit more rough and more covered in snow then likely when such a place was kept.

It was a clearing of land in the middle of the forest, and yet the buildings here no longer existed as they once had some time ago. Scattered remains which in fresh days looked like they could be burnt, but the snow and ice dusting over them now hid such evidence from afar. Running your gloved hand along their mane before stepping towards what remained of an open entrance like gate.

Jon did the same not a few feet from you, but his mind was as distant as his grey eyes were hazy with something unspoken and troubled. You wouldn't rush. He had wanted to come to whatever this was, and you would give him whatever time he needed with the remains of a memory.

Your feet carrying you one path to another avoiding the rubble, but unavoidable the longer you walked around what used to be some sort of building. You had been through villages once belonging to the free folk, but this reminded you more of a home. Tucked away in the forest from the rest of the world and it was a wonder what sort of world this north used to be before the winter colds came down.

Everything was as clear to Jon as it was both times he had been here. The first filled with strange memories, visions of the very woman walking some feet around the keep from him with Jons own brother, the truth of what exactly went on with the girls living here and the stacking upon stacking of evidence that a monster of a man lived here.

It was difficult to imagine someone with spirits as bright still as Gilly had come from such a dour, horrible place. Or how she had found harmony and love in someone as unlikely thinking he'd find it as Sam. Then again, once more Jon looked to you, wide eyes searching all around to put together what Jon was not saying in the silence, and he knew you too were somehow what he never thought would be someone he could have.

Finding a voice eventually, Jon walked more towards the middle of the keep over the wood still remaining from when he himself had helped burn it down. “This was Crasters Keep.” Your head turned to look at him, and it was still so odd seeing you in such a place he hated. A place where once was full of men he would be terrified to have you anywhere near. “The Nights Watch had an arrangement with Craster. We'd bring him things from south of the Wall, and he'd let our rangers stay and sleep here on their way to wherever they were going.”

Eyes narrowing in question you asked, “I thought the free folk had all hated the Nights Watch.”

Nodding, Jon didn't dispute it. “They did. Craster included. He hated everything that wasn't himself. He just liked his greed more then his privacy.” Your expression twisting a bit, he knew that wasn't even the half of it. Jon wasn't about to tell you the disgusting truth of his wives, or the vulgar things he meaninglessly shouted towards Jon with just to try and humiliate him in front of his brothers. He only was alright with you being in this place, now that it was gone.

Some things north of the Wall Jon thought, you should never know. The world you lived in together away from here was bad enough, he didn't need to divulge the worst of this place to you. Or what his brothers did once this place became theirs. Your voice cutting through the quiet, “What happened here exactly?”

Face falling into a frown, Jon considered the most gentle way to describe it. The first half was the easy one, the second not so much, taking his time explaining to get to that second half. “I wasn't here for it, it was after the brothers got attacked at the Fist of the First Men. They were making their way back to the Wall and stopped here, but for some of them I guess they had enough.” Turning to look at him, Jons face fell a bit to something he knew you'd tell was a sorrow. “Some of them put a knife through Crasters mouth, took hostage some of the brothers that fought back, and killed Lord Commander Mormont.”

Eyes widening at him, Jon knew it wasn't pity. It was his own guilt for how it ended for him and not being anywhere near it that he was seeing. Tender your voice was, trying not to overstep what you could tell was a wound which still felt strange in his heart. “So they burned it all down?”

“No. I did that.” Training his eyes to the ground, he begun searching for any signs. Glancing to Ghost wandering by with a look asking for him to help without need of words. “Mance's army was coming this way, and I knew if they got here, the mutineers would tell them the truth. What our weak spots were and how few men we actually had. So I had men come with me to kill them all before Mance got to them.”

Not seeing your reaction, but he could tell a bit that you were on the further North side of the keep. “What about his wives? What happened to them?”

Maybe he was being too soft with you, but it wasn't just the mutineers he could see, it was Ramsay. A man like him would've fit right in with that lot. So he kept the worst of it out. “Some ran, the ones who were still here when we got there, I knew they had nowhere to go. Offered to take them back to Castle Black, find them work, keep them safe. But they refused.” Asking why, Jon once more concocted a gentler version of it. “My brothers killed their father, took over their home, and Craster wasn't exactly a good man either. So they told us to burn it down, they'd find their own way.”

Jon looking through the rubble wondered, where had they gone, who did they find. Perhaps they found a way to get South, he hoped they did. They deserved a better life then anything in the far North could give them.

A whine from the west side came from Ghost, drawing his attention. Climbing over most of it, Jon jumped down to what had his direwolfs attention. Pulling back some of the rubble, it was cracked, it wasn't whole, but it was there. Looking up with a low muttering, “You sure?” Ghost only gesturing his head back down, and Jon knew that was a yes. Running his hand over with a small smile, “Good boy.”

He picked it up gently. It was all that was left, but what was left didn't deserve to be left out here. Maege Mormont had said she knew what it felt like to have your brother die thousands of miles from where you were to protect them, betrayed by his own men. She knew that pain exactly as Jon did, and Jon had the feeling you refused to discuss certain things about Robb, because you were avoiding the conversation of why you couldn't get his remains home.

He wanted nothing more then to have a scrap of Robb to bury, but he could give Maege this. He could bring what was left of Jeor Mormont home hopefully. He'd try at least. Shifting things around he wrapped it before finding a safe place for it near the bottom of the bag over his back.

Pushing up to stand once more did Jon notice he and Ghost were alone. The horses both still there, but nowhere in the remains of Crasters Keep did he see you. Calling your name, Jon glanced to Ghost in question.

It was that dream. The one you had the night you, Robb, and Theon had discussed sending him back to Pyke. You had gone to sleep that night, and dreamt of another night in the wolfswood by Winterfell. Only as you walked through the woods north of the keep, you realized your memory had blended with whatever it was Jon had seen that night. You knew these woods from that dream, and further and further your feet carried you looking for it.

The dream had haunted you for years, you would see nothing now you knew but you had to find it.

A baby laid on the snow, as if tossed away while it cried, and a crackling of ice before blue eyes glowing as crystals picked the baby up and walked further away into the northern woods. You had woken suddenly from that point, but you knew now it was real. Standing there, you resisted the urge to reach for your stomach. The idea of giving your child up in the snow for something to take like a monster in a bed side story.

Only a monster could do such a thing, giving up life they helped to create before it ever stood a chance? No good person worth remembering would do such a thing. You hadn't even heard Jon coming up behind you until the hand pressed against the hair at the back of your head, turning you enough to pull you to his lips. A kiss left to the back of your head as that hand slipped down to grasp at the edges of the fur covered hood by your neck.

Standing beside one another, it was another wave of an oddity for you both. The sight of a vision you knew the other had seen, and only now so many years later did you meet here in person where it had haunted you both. Rasping low in your ear, “Don't wander off on me like that.”

Whispering that you were sorry, you could see from the side of your vision him nodding without anger or irritation behind it. He was as wide eyed and trapped in place as you were. “How could someone do that? Give their child up to them, abandon them in the snow like they mean nothing to you?”

Using his grip on the fur, Jon pulled you closer into his side. “He was a monster. Murdering his own children.”

You both could see it, the creature walking away with the baby. The first time for you, that ice and cold and blue haunted your nightmares. “What did they want them for? The boys, what did the Others want with children?”

Was Jons answer more disturbing or less, neither was sure. “I don't know.”

His own hand reach out to run against your stomach before using the grip to turn you around, keeping you at his side with the hand pressing at your lower back. Moving you both back up the snowy grounds to the keep, Jon didn't want to look back. He wanted to know many things by the end of this, but maybe he didn't want to know what happened to the boys Craster gave up.

That way he wouldn't have to imagine in some months, the nightmare of his own son being given up like that. Jon knew he was many things in his new life, but willing to give up his children like that would never be one of them.

You relied on Jon to guide this journey, and this you never questioned his route. So perhaps, it was being kept from you that instead of crossing the Gorge as he knew was more then possible, he was taking a bit of extra time to go around it before making the longer trek to the Fist of the First Men.

The Frost Fangs were a long stretch of ice covered mountains and the terrain was going to be the more rough part. Jon having told you that it would take the longest to get through them. “If I were alone, it may be easier, but I'm going to be taking it slow with you. We won't get there for months, so I won't rush you through them. Not now and certainly not then.”

You both knew why, not only were you not used to terrain which was coming that way, but by his estimation, you would be at least four months by the time you would reach the beginning of them. You'd be showing by then, and he wasn't going to risk you or the babies life if there was even a scrap of a chance he could get you home.

Sometimes it surprised you that even in the sort of cold around, the feeling of freshly fallen snow still was something near refreshing. For quite a while as you travelled, there was a continuous falling around you of large, almost wondrous snowflakes heavily making a home in your hair. More then once Jon however had turned to ensure you weren’t too cold, and just as many times as he would ask, would you dismiss it with your eyes squinting upwards.

The white of the cloud covered sky and the endless snow falling down against it like a blanket was a feeling familiar even though the side was more new. As Jon clarified his question, affirming that you nor the baby would be too cold, you smiled before looking back at him. “Her fathers a man of the North, and I grew up around the rains and storms of an island. I think she is well equipped to handle a little more cold then normal so far.”

All you caught at first was a vauge comment under his breath somewhere along the lines of saying that indeed, his son would be prepared for it. Continuing on the never ending battle for which you were to have persisted between you both. Boy or girl?

Glancing up ahead, Jon gestured to a coming stream. “We’ll stop here until it clears up.” Looking over to him with a bemused dismay you attempted to ask if if he heard what you had said about being fine, when he cut you off with an ease and calm. “I did, and I’m ignoring you.” You could see the grin forming as he rode up ahead of you first.

Securing both horses, Ghost around you both had begun his usual wander. Dutifully by Jons side when travelling but always eager to stretch his legs at any stop. Settling his, Jon gently took the reigns of your own horse for you, not even a question in his conscious mind of allowing you to simply do the work. He almost had to pause mid movement to think about it when you had opened your mouth. “You do have to let me do things on my own sometimes.”

Eyes narrowing up at you in thought, Jon kept it to himself for the duration it took to settle the reigns and rise back to his full height before he gave you a small shrug. “I could. I don’t think I’ve actually stopped you from trying.”

Turning away slightly with a forming grin a this ease and audacity, you arms crossed your front before looking back with a raised brow and tint to your tone of playful challenge. “You absolutely have done that.” Asking when, you sighed out with a more mocking tone of frustration both knew was not real. “Everyday. I can do things on my own still, I am very much as able as I was months ago if you let me prove it. But, even though-”

Taking a step close to you with a laugh of his own, you cut your own words off in favour of having him elaborate on what was so funny. “You’re about to do the thing my father always said.”

Head jolting back a little in question, your eyes brightened a bit wondering of his point. “What?”

An eyebrow raised on him that time with a tone filled to the brim with a smugness that it was about to get under your skin. “That everything somebody says before the word but, is horseshit.”

Your face falling amusingly flat, you tilted your head at him. “I think you’re being a bit hyperbolic. He never quite said it as crudely as that.”

Jon though had something in his eyes radiating with a memory not quite as amusing, but wrapped around a lightness of better times. Looking back down to you with something far less teasing and much more soft, as if relaying the memories to you as they played out behind his eyes. “He never said it like that to you.” Your silence taking appropriately as a question of elaboration, he turned more to the sight of the stream beside you both as you followed. “You’re a girl. He never swore around you or my sisters, wasn’t proper.”

The quiet was light for a moment, but instead of falling into the same form of memory, what slipped out of you was much too quick for your own good. “So why didn’t you ever learn that lesson?”

By the time Jon turned back to you with something smart on his lips, did you make your move towards the stream. Refilling your own water with the thought in the back of your head when you stood up to do his as well, Jon continued speaking as he came up beside you. Only, turning to him at one point to respond did you realize you hadn’t actually known what he was saying to you. Noticing you had somehow stopped paying attention.

Eyes narrowing a little, you realized you were focusing far more on a growing feeling in your stomach. You had reach two months without this, you thought perhaps new life meant you would not return to this.

Jon only noticed you were distracted, perhaps seconds before it all came up. Trying to turn from him completely, he did not let you go far. Following you in seconds, your frame keeled over as the sickness all came up. Hair gathering in his hand, the other running down your back but he was quiet as he was close.

One wave stopped and you only got as far as a wince before more returned. It was never much, but always was as unpleasant as it burned your throat no matter how little there was. Leaning more to your side, in the seconds you had to gasp for air, Jon pressed a kiss to the back of your head, but didn't speak. Just kept himself there, the gentle nuzzle on occasion doing more to calm you then he would know. Just when you thought you were done, just a bit more.

In truth, you stayed knelt there longer then you knew was needed because you were embarrassed. No you hadn't wanted Robb to fuss, but you simply didn't want to be ill like that in front of your husband, and you still didn't want to despite Jon being close by your side now. This was an unflattering, gross part of being with child and you wished it would have waited until you were alone long enough Jon wouldn't notice. Jon though, only gently promped you to drink water, knowing no doubt the burn scratching your throat. You whispering out between drinks, “I'm sorry.”

Running a hand through your hair, Jon was confused. “Darling, don't be sorry.”

Shaking your head, you hadn't looked back at him yet. Pushing up from your thighs suddenly, trying to shake off it hoping he would ignore your sudden outburst did you turn only to find Jon rummaging through something he kept on him. Tossing it to you, your brows narrowed before unravelling the small bundle and thus a bright amused look came over you instantly.

“Dare I ask why you have these on you ready to go?”

Twisting his face in a playful doubt, Jon ran his hand still through your hair. Watching you take one from it before wrapping it back up for you, and tucking it away on your own person. “I wasn't going to bring you here if I didn't learn how to take care of you.” He said it so passively that it clashed with the lift in your heart. Mint and Ginger. He had brought it from Winterfell with him, knowing it would help should you get ill at times.

The mixture easing things in more then one way, you washed the rest of it with water before Jon pulled you back to his side towards the horses. Only you grasped at his arm first, turning you back to him with a look of ask in your eyes. “You're too sweet to me, do you know that?”

Running a hand through your hair, Jon leaned right into you, only to stop inches from your lips when you raised yourself up to meet him halfway. “Didn't you just throw up?”

The drop in your expression as you looked at him flatly. “Really Snow, you think I don't now why you brought mint of all things?” He only laughed in response. Smirking with a slight shake of your head, you playfully scolded. “Taking care of me only as long as it benefits you.”

Jon nudged your nose with his, “I love you.”

Eyes rolling before you leaned up to meet his lips, Jon kept you there for as long as it took to steal the breath you had just gotten back. Somethings it seemed, sweet, teasing, or otherwise had yet to change.

And thus it continued on. Another day of travelling the cold and empty, and another night spent in routine ending with Jon unwilling to sleep without being inside of you, nor you without him. Underneath him, pressing you into whatever tree or rocks he was impatient enough to take you against, or perched in his lap as the only sound anywhere for miles in the night was skin slapping together as he would bounce you roughly on his cock, echoing through the walls of your tent.

The only things you had out here were each other, and you knew the further you got here, the more desperate it was going to get. But you knew, no matter what it cost to get there, you wouldn't wish to be away from Jon no matter what.

If your second chance together was to die at the end of his journey, you both would make it count until the very final moment. You came back to life, to bring Jon back to life. You loved many in your life and always would, but this was where you were meant to be.

Following him to the very end, no matter what unknowns were awaiting there for you.

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