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novaursa · 3 days ago

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Where Wolves Wander (2/2)

- Summary: You and Jon were always close, but as the years went by and those feelings grew, your mother decided to put an end to it.

- Paring: stark!reader/Jon Snow

-Rating: Mature 16+

- Previous part: 1/2

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

The chill of Castle Black bit through the thick layers of black wool and leather as Jon and Sam sat by a small fire, their breath frosting in the cold air despite the flickering warmth. The other recruits had long since turned in for the night, leaving the two friends alone under the watchful gaze of the Wall. A quiet, easy camaraderie had grown between them, one that had become a rare comfort in the harsh environment of the Night’s Watch.

Sam looked over at Jon, curiosity sparking in his eyes. “What was it like… you know, before all this?” he asked, gesturing around to the cold, stony expanse of Castle Black. “Living in Winterfell, with your family?”

Jon glanced at Sam, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he poked at the fire. “Winterfell… It was different from here,” he began softly. “Warmer, in a way. Even with all the cold stone, it felt… alive. My brothers, sisters… they made it feel like home.”

Sam nodded, leaning forward, clearly fascinated. “You talk about it like it was something out of a story,” he murmured. “It sounds… wonderful.”

Jon let out a quiet chuckle. “It had its moments. Robb, Sansa, Arya… they were all different, each of them with their own ways of making life interesting. And then there was…” He trailed off, hesitating.

Sam’s gaze sharpened, noticing the sudden softness in Jon’s voice. “And then there was…?”

Jon looked away, a brief smile crossing his face before he spoke again. “Y/N,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with something warmer than nostalgia. “Robb’s twin. My… sister.”

Sam’s interest piqued immediately, and he leaned in, hanging on every word. “I didn’t know Robb had a twin. What was she like?”

Jon took a slow breath, letting his thoughts drift back to Winterfell. “She… she’s everything the North is. Strong, fierce, stubborn, but kind and loyal too. She’s one of the few who could see past what I am, you know? She never treated me like… a reminder of my birth.”

Sam’s brows furrowed. “What you are? But you’re a Stark, aren’t you? I mean… you were raised with them.”

Jon’s mouth pressed into a tight line. “Raised with them, yes, but I was always reminded that I wasn’t… truly one of them. I don’t carry the Stark name, nor the claim to anything but what I was given.” He paused, his gaze softening. “But Y/N never saw me like that. She just saw… me.”

Sam’s eyes gleamed with empathy, his expression thoughtful. “That must have been… wonderful,” he said quietly. “Having someone who saw you for who you really are, rather than what people think you are.”

Jon nodded, a hint of a bittersweet smile on his face. “Aye, it was.” He glanced down, poking at the fire again, but Sam’s curiosity hadn’t been fully sated.

“Did she know… that you were planning to join the Night’s Watch?” Sam asked hesitantly, clearly worried he might be treading into sensitive territory.

Jon let out a breath, his gaze distant. “She found out, yes. Before I left. We had a moment to talk, just the two of us. She… tried to convince me to stay.” He paused, his voice growing quieter. “I think… part of her understood why I had to go, but… I know it hurt her.”

Sam was silent for a moment, taking in Jon’s words. He looked at Jon with a kind, understanding gaze. “And did it hurt you, too? Leaving her?”

Jon didn’t answer right away, his jaw tightening. The memories flooded back, memories of quiet talks in the Godswood, her laughter filling the air, the way her hand had lingered on his arm that last day as if holding on to him just a little longer. “More than I thought it would,” he admitted, voice barely more than a whisper. “More than anything.”

Sam offered a sympathetic nod, his eyes filled with a sadness that only a friend could share. “It’s hard, isn’t it?” he murmured. “Leaving behind the people who make you feel like you… belong. And now, here we are… in a place that feels like it could swallow us whole.”

Jon met Sam’s gaze, a small, sad smile on his lips. “Aye. But I suppose that’s why we’re here together.” He glanced back at the fire, the warmth a stark contrast to the cold emptiness he felt when he thought of Winterfell, and of you.

Sam, sensing the weight of Jon’s silence, ventured softly, “Maybe, one day… you’ll see her again.”

Jon’s smile faded, his eyes reflecting a mixture of hope and resignation. “Maybe,” he replied, though his voice held a sadness that told Sam he didn’t quite believe it. But in the quiet company of his friend, the ache of your absence was a little easier to bear, and for now, that was enough.

The air beyond the Wall was colder than anything Jon had ever felt in Winterfell—a harsh, biting chill that seeped through the layers of fur and leather, numbing skin and bone alike. He trudged through the snow alongside his brothers in black, each breath clouding the air with mist, every crunch of their boots echoing eerily in the silent wilderness. Jeor Mormont led them, his broad back a dark silhouette against the endless white. Jon kept a steady pace, his eyes scanning the treeline, ever vigilant, knowing the danger that lurked in the unknown beyond.

Sam walked beside him, his teeth chattering as he pulled his cloak tighter around his body. “W-w-why did it have to be so c-c-cold?” he muttered, his voice barely audible over the crunch of snow beneath their feet.

Eddison Tollett, known as Dolorous Edd for good reason, let out a grim chuckle. “Ah, cheer up, Sam. It could be worse.”

“How could it possibly be worse?” Sam asked, his expression a mix of incredulity and misery.

“We could be dead,” Edd replied with a deadpan expression. “Then we wouldn’t feel the cold at all.”

Grenn snorted from behind them, shaking his head. “Leave it to Edd to find the bright side of freezing to death.”

Their banter was interrupted by a sudden rustling from the forest ahead, a swift, urgent sound that made Jon’s heart leap into his throat. A shape emerged from the snow-dusted trees—white, sleek, and silent. Ghost.

“Ghost,” Jon breathed, his voice tinged with relief and confusion. “What are you doing here, boy?”

Ghost bounded forward, his red eyes sharp and alert, his movements graceful and purposeful. But it was what followed that made Jon’s blood run cold—a second wolf, darker in color, moving with a quiet ferocity. Shadow.

The familiar amber eyes of your direwolf locked with Jon’s, and his heart twisted painfully in his chest. Shadow’s presence here, beyond the Wall, meant one thing: you were nearby, or something had gone horribly wrong.

“What the bloody hell?” Grenn murmured, stepping back in surprise as the black wolf padded closer, its coat blending into the shadowed treeline. “Is that…?”

“Aye,” Jon said, his voice strained, his gaze fixed on Shadow. “That’s Y/N’s wolf.”

The others looked at Jon with a mix of confusion and concern, their breath puffing out in short, quick clouds. Pypar, who had been silently observing, finally spoke up. “What’s her wolf doing here, Jon? I thought she was back at Winterfell.”

“So did I,” Jon muttered, his mind racing with possibilities, each one worse than the last. He knelt down, extending a hand toward Shadow, who hesitated for a moment before stepping forward, sniffing his hand cautiously. The wolf's fur was cold and wet, matted with bits of snow, as if it had traveled a great distance.

Sam looked at Jon, his face pale. “Do you think… do you think something’s happened to her?” he asked in a hushed voice, clearly terrified of the answer.

“I don’t know,” Jon replied, his voice barely above a whisper. “But it can’t be good. She wouldn’t have sent Shadow all the way out here without a reason.”

“Gods,” Edd muttered, his usual dark humor absent for once. “If she’s come all the way past the Wall… what could have driven her out here?”

“Quiet,” Jeor Mormont’s voice cut through the murmurs like a blade. He approached, his gaze sharp as he surveyed the wolves, then looked at Jon, his expression unreadable. “That’s your sister’s direwolf, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Lord Commander,” Jon confirmed, standing up to face him. “Her name is Shadow. I don’t know why she’s here.”

Mormont’s eyes narrowed, his gaze shifting between Ghost and Shadow. “A lone wolf crossing the Wall? It’s a strange thing. Wolves don’t stray this far north without reason.”

“What do we do, Lord Commander?” Grenn asked, looking uneasily at the dark trees surrounding them.

“We keep moving,” Mormont said gruffly. “Whatever brought that wolf here, we’re not turning back. But keep your eyes open. If there’s a message in this, I’d wager we’ll find out soon enough.”

Jon nodded, but his mind raced with questions. Was it possible that you were out here somewhere, wandering the same frozen wilderness? Or had something happened back at Winterfell that sent Shadow running, searching for him? The thought twisted in his gut like a knife.

Ghost brushed against his leg, nudging him gently, and Jon rested a hand on his wolf’s head, drawing comfort from the familiar warmth. Shadow circled around him, her amber eyes flicking up to meet his, as if she were silently urging him to understand something—something important.

“What do you think it means, Jon?” Sam whispered, shivering as he glanced back at the wolves. “Why would she come here?”

“I don’t know,” Jon admitted, his voice rough with worry. “But if Shadow’s here, then Y/N could be closer than we think. Or…” He didn’t finish the thought, unable to voice the darker possibilities that loomed in his mind.

The silence stretched between them as they continued their march, the wolves keeping close to Jon’s side, their presence a constant reminder of the uncertainty that lay ahead. Every step felt heavier, the weight of unspoken fears pressing down on him like the unrelenting cold.

As the night deepened, the world seemed to close in, the darkness swallowing the edges of the wilderness. Jon’s thoughts drifted back to you, to your last conversation in the Godswood, the way your hand had lingered on his, your eyes filled with unshed tears. He couldn’t shake the image of your face, the way you had looked at him as if he were the only thing that mattered.

“What if she’s out here, Jon?” Sam asked softly, his voice trembling with worry. “What if she came looking for you?”

Jon’s heart clenched at the thought, a mixture of hope and fear churning in his gut. “Then I’ll find her,” he said, his voice hardening with resolve. “No matter what it takes.”

The wolves padded silently beside him, their breath fogging the air, and in the darkness, Jon felt the flicker of something stronger than fear—a connection, a bond that reached across miles of frozen land. Whatever brought Shadow here, he knew it wasn’t a coincidence. And somehow, deep down, he felt that you were closer than he dared to hope.

“We’ll see what tomorrow brings,” Mormont muttered, breaking the silence as he led the group onward. “Keep your eyes open, lads. This land doesn’t give second chances.”

Jon nodded, tightening his grip on the hilt of his sword as they pressed on into the night, the wolves shadowing their every step like sentinels. The cold crept deeper into his bones, but for the first time since he’d left Winterfell, Jon felt a flicker of warmth—a spark of hope, fragile and fierce, guiding him through the darkness.

The cold bite of dawn broke through the dense trees as the Night’s Watch continued their march, the silence of the wilderness giving way to the faintest hints of movement and hushed voices. Jon’s senses sharpened as he caught sight of thin trails of smoke rising just beyond a ridge. He stopped, raising a hand, signaling the others.

“Wildlings,” Jeor Mormont murmured, his eyes narrowing. He motioned for the men to take cover along the rocks and trees, gesturing for silence. The brothers of the Night’s Watch huddled low, moving with practiced caution, their breaths quiet and controlled.

Jon crouched beside Sam, who looked stiff but determined, his gaze focused on the direction of the smoke. Ghost and Shadow were by Jon’s side, their eyes locked ahead, their bodies taut and ready. The camp came into view as they crept closer—a scattering of rough tents made of hide and fur, with Wildlings huddled around fires, muttering in low voices.

And then Jon’s heart stopped.

At the edge of the camp, tied to a wooden post, slumped a figure with a familiar face, your face, pale and drawn, your wrists bound and bloodied. You looked worn, your hair tangled, your clothes torn and dirt-streaked. Shadow, sensing you, gave a low growl, her amber eyes narrowing as she bared her teeth, but Jon quickly reached out, calming her with a gentle touch.

“Y/N,” he whispered, barely able to breathe as he took in the sight of you, alive but clearly worse for wear. Every muscle in his body tensed, his grip tightening on the hilt of his sword.

“Is that…?” Sam’s voice was a hushed whisper, his eyes wide as he looked from you to Jon, realization dawning in his gaze.

Jon nodded, his jaw clenched. “It’s her,” he said quietly, his voice hard with barely restrained fury. “We have to get her out of there.”

Jeor Mormont moved up beside Jon, observing the scene with a calculating gaze. “We don’t have the numbers for a direct assault,” he murmured. “But if we’re careful, we might be able to pull her out quietly.”

Jon’s mind raced, assessing the camp’s layout, noting the positions of the Wildlings scattered around the fires. He could see that most of them were still groggy, barely awake, their attention focused on warming their hands and preparing for the morning. He had a chance—if he could just get close enough to cut you free.

“I’ll go,” Jon said firmly, looking Mormont in the eye. “I know her. She trusts me. I can do this.”

Mormont hesitated, studying Jon for a long moment. Then he nodded, his expression hard. “Be quick and silent. We’ll cover you if anything goes wrong.”

Jon nodded in gratitude, feeling a rush of determination wash over him. He turned to Sam, who looked at him with a mixture of fear and encouragement. “Be careful, Jon,” Sam whispered.

Without another word, Jon slipped forward, Ghost and Shadow moving silently alongside him, their eyes fixed on you. He crept from shadow to shadow, his body low and silent, his heart pounding as he drew closer. Finally, he reached the edge of the camp, crouching behind a cluster of rocks a mere few feet from where you were tied.

He could see the faint rise and fall of your chest, the exhaustion in the way your head slumped forward. His heart ached at the sight of you, at the bruises that marked your skin, the blood that dried at your wrists. Swallowing hard, he moved closer, careful not to make a sound, until he was right beside you.

“Y/N,” he whispered urgently, reaching out to touch your shoulder. “It’s me.”

You flinched at the sound, your eyes fluttering open, hazy with exhaustion and pain. But as you focused on his face, a spark of recognition lit in your gaze, and relief flooded your expression. “Jon,” you breathed, your voice weak but filled with hope.

“I’m here,” he murmured, his hand gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I’m getting you out of here.”

A faint smile touched your lips, but worry darkened your gaze. “Jon, they… they took me by surprise. I tried to get away, but…” You shook your head, wincing. “There’s too many of them. You have to be careful.”

Jon nodded, his jaw set with determination. “We’ll get you out,” he assured you. He quickly drew his dagger, positioning himself to cut through the ropes binding your wrists. “Stay as quiet as you can.”

As he worked at the ropes, your gaze softened, and you murmured, “I knew you’d come. I knew… I’d find you out here, somehow.”

Jon’s hand stilled for a fraction of a second, his heart swelling with an indescribable warmth. “I never stopped thinking about you,” he admitted softly, his voice thick with emotion. “When I saw Shadow… I knew something had happened. I couldn’t leave you out here.”

The last rope gave way, and he helped you pull your arms free, wincing as he saw the raw skin beneath. Ghost and Shadow pressed close, nudging you gently, their presence comforting as you steadied yourself, your legs weak but your resolve strong.

“Come on,” Jon whispered, helping you to your feet, supporting your weight as you leaned against him. He cast a quick glance around the camp; the Wildlings were still occupied, but he knew their luck wouldn’t hold for long.

Suddenly, a voice called out in the Wildling tongue, and Jon’s heart lurched as a figure turned, their eyes falling on you and Jon. The alarm rose quickly, shouts echoing across the camp as Wildlings began to grab their weapons, realizing they had an intruder in their midst.

“Run!” Jon urged, tightening his grip on your hand as he pulled you forward, breaking into a sprint as Ghost and Shadow snarled, positioning themselves between you and the oncoming Wildlings.

Mormont’s voice rang out from the trees. “Move, men! Cover them!”

The Night’s Watch brothers leapt from their hiding spots, arrows flying as they formed a defensive line, pushing back the Wildlings who surged forward. Sam and Grenn each took positions beside Jon, their faces set in grim determination as they helped clear a path through the chaos.

You stumbled, nearly falling as your legs struggled to keep up, but Jon was there, his hand steady on your arm, his eyes fierce with protectiveness. “Come on, Y/N,” he urged, his voice strong, guiding you through the snowy terrain.

The wild cacophony of battle surrounded you, but all you could feel was Jon’s presence, his hand holding yours, pulling you forward, his strength keeping you upright as you escaped the chaos of the camp.

As you finally broke through the treeline, away from the Wildlings, Jon slowed, his arm still around you, his breathing heavy. He looked at you, relief flooding his face. “You’re safe now,” he said, his voice a mixture of exhaustion and profound relief.

You managed a small nod, looking up at him, gratitude and affection shining in your eyes. “Thank you, Jon. I knew… I knew you’d find me.”

He pulled you into a quick embrace, his hand resting on the back of your head, his voice a quiet murmur. “I’ll always find you, Y/N.”

The Night’s Watch brothers finally found a sheltered hollow, a quiet space where the wind wasn’t as merciless, and the snow wasn’t piled so high. Jeor Mormont called a halt, giving the men a moment to catch their breath and tend to any wounds they’d earned in the skirmish. As the others busied themselves with tending to their gear and preparing a quick meal, Jon guided you to sit down against a fallen tree trunk, wrapping his cloak around your shoulders to ward off the biting cold.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice laced with worry as he scanned your face, noting the shadows under your eyes and the raw marks on your wrists.

You managed a small smile, reaching up to touch his hand, savoring the warmth of his skin against yours. “I am now, Jon. Thanks to you.”

He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, his eyes softening. “When I saw Shadow… I feared the worst,” he murmured, his thumb tracing gentle circles over your knuckles.

You looked down at your hands, your gaze pensive. “It was foolish of me, I know,” you admitted quietly, your breath clouding the air. “But I had to find you. After you left… I couldn’t stop thinking about it, about the last time we spoke.” You looked up, meeting his gaze, a fierceness in your eyes that mirrored his own. “I knew I had to come. I couldn’t let you disappear beyond the Wall, not knowing if you were safe. Not knowing if…” You hesitated, the words catching in your throat.

Jon reached out, his fingers brushing your cheek, his touch gentle. “Y/N,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, “I would’ve come back to you, you know. Somehow, someway.”

You closed your eyes, leaning into his hand, letting his warmth seep into your skin. “I couldn’t take that chance, Jon. I needed to know. I needed to be with you.”

A faint smile tugged at his lips, a rare expression of unguarded affection. “You always were stubborn,” he said softly, his gaze lingering on you. “But crossing the Wall, risking everything to find me… You shouldn’t have had to do that.”

“I’d do it again,” you replied, your tone resolute. “A hundred times if it meant finding you.”

A throat cleared nearby, breaking the intimate moment, and you looked up to see Sam standing a few feet away, his expression a mixture of awe and shyness as he glanced between you and Jon. He gave an awkward, apologetic smile. “I didn’t mean to interrupt… I just thought, um, I should introduce myself. I’m Samwell Tarly, Jon’s… friend.”

You smiled warmly, reaching out a hand. “It’s a pleasure, Samwell. Thank you for looking after him.”

Sam flushed, ducking his head as he took your hand. “Oh, well, Jon’s looked after me more times than I can count, actually,” he stammered. “But it’s an honor to meet you, Lady Stark.”

“Just Y/N,” you corrected gently. “Out here, I’m no different from any of you.”

Sam gave a tentative smile, looking as if he might burst with admiration. Before you could say more, Grenn and Pypar wandered over, curiosity gleaming in their eyes.

“So, this is the famous Stark sister,” Grenn said with a grin, crossing his arms as he looked you over. “Jon’s told us about you, you know.”

“Nothing but good things, I hope,” you replied with a teasing smile, glancing at Jon, who looked slightly flustered.

Pypar, grinning like a fox, nudged Jon with his elbow. “Oh, only that you’re the stubborn one, the one who won’t listen to reason.” He winked, and Jon shot him a warning look, but there was a warmth in his expression, a kind of ease he rarely allowed himself.

Edd stepped forward, his usual dour expression softened slightly. “If you’re anything like your brother, you’ll find the cold less welcoming than the fireside at Winterfell,” he remarked, giving you a nod.

You chuckled, drawing your cloak closer. “The North teaches you to endure the cold, but this…” You gestured to the frozen expanse around you. “This is something else.”

They all chuckled, the camaraderie easing the tension of the long journey and the battle. Jon watched you with a tender gaze, the sight of you surrounded by his brothers filling him with a quiet pride and warmth. It felt as if a part of home had been returned to him, a piece of himself he hadn’t realized was missing until now.

He reached for your hand again, intertwining your fingers. “So tell me,” he asked softly, his voice carrying a note of worry and curiosity, “how did you even manage to cross the Wall?”

You looked at him, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “Let’s just say I’m good at convincing people. I may have… borrowed a favor or two.” You gave a little shrug, though your eyes held a certain steel. “When you’re determined, there’s always a way.”

Jon shook his head, torn between admiration and exasperation. “You’re unbelievable,” he muttered, though his smile betrayed his feelings. “I should be furious with you for risking yourself like that.”

“Perhaps,” you replied, leaning closer, your voice barely above a whisper, “but I think you’re glad I’m here.”

He didn’t answer, but his hand tightened around yours, his gaze softening as he looked at you, every unspoken word shining in his eyes. It felt like the world had narrowed to just the two of you, a quiet warmth in the heart of the frozen wilderness.

Sam, sensing the moment, gave a small cough and turned to the others. “Maybe we should give them a moment,” he suggested, glancing back at you and Jon with an understanding smile.

The others chuckled and nodded, moving away to give you both some privacy, casting curious glances over their shoulders as they went. When they were out of earshot, Jon turned to you, his face serious.

“Why did you really come, Y/N?” he asked quietly, searching your gaze. “This wasn’t just about checking if I was alright. There’s something more.”

You looked down, your heart pounding. “Because… Jon, I couldn’t bear it. I couldn’t bear the thought of you out here, alone, with no one to care for you. I couldn’t bear to lose you to some duty that will only drive you further away. I thought… if I found you, maybe…” You paused, swallowing, gathering your courage. “Maybe you’d find a reason to come back.”

Jon’s breath hitched, his eyes darkening with emotion as he lifted a hand to your face, his thumb brushing softly over your cheek. “You’re my reason,” he murmured, his voice thick. “You always have been.”

You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes, savoring the quiet intimacy of the moment. “Then let’s find our way back,” you whispered, a hint of hope in your voice.

Jon held you close, pressing his forehead to yours, his voice barely more than a breath. “We will, Y/N. Somehow… we will.”

The small band of Night’s Watch brothers pressed onward, moving through the dense woods under Mormont’s command. Jon’s gaze kept straying forward, watching you walk a few paces ahead, deep in conversation with Mormont. Your head was tilted slightly as you listened to the Old Bear, no doubt discussing your father’s legacy. Jon could see the hint of admiration in Mormont’s expression, the way he spoke to you with a respect few outside of the Watch received.

Beside Jon, Sam shuffled closer, casting him a sidelong glance before whispering, “She’s… she’s really something, isn’t she?”

Jon’s lips twitched in a slight smile. “Aye, she is.”

Sam hesitated, a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks. “I mean, not just in the usual way. She’s… well, it’s clear you’re… close.” He fumbled over his words, a nervous look darting toward you before his gaze returned to Jon, a little too eager.

Jon’s brows knitted, sensing where Sam’s thoughts were wandering. “We’re close, yes,” he said, his tone defensive but still soft. “She’s my family.”

“Aye, family,” Sam echoed, but there was a note of amusement in his voice. “But it seems to me she’s more than that. More than a sister.”

Jon gave him a hard look, but before he could respond, Grenn, who had been listening nearby, chuckled and nudged Pypar with his elbow. “Did you hear that, Pyp? Our Jon’s got himself a lady from Winterfell.”

Pyp grinned, raising an eyebrow. “More than a sister, eh? Should we start calling her Lady Snow?”

Jon’s cheeks flushed, and he scowled at the two of them. “It’s not like that,” he muttered through gritted teeth, but the faint blush staining his cheeks betrayed him.

Edd joined the group, his usual deadpan expression laced with amusement. “She does look a bit like Robb, though, doesn’t she?” he said dryly, casting Jon a mischievous look. “Makes it a bit strange, doesn’t it? Fancying someone who could pass for your brother’s double.”

Jon’s scowl deepened, his jaw clenched tightly. “It’s not about that,” he said stiffly. “She’s… she’s her own person. You’d know that if you spent half a moment actually talking to her.”

Sam stifled a chuckle, but his eyes sparkled with a mix of mischief and genuine curiosity. “But, Jon,” he ventured cautiously, “you have to admit, it is a bit unusual. I mean… not that I’m judging,” he added hastily, “but with the resemblance…”

Jon shot him a dark look. “She’s not Robb, and it’s nothing like that. She’s… She’s different,” he insisted, his voice dropping to a murmur as his gaze drifted forward to where you were still walking, oblivious to the teasing murmurs and sidelong glances behind you.

Edd wasn’t finished, though. With his usual unshakeable deadpan tone, he gave Jon a sidelong look and smirked. “So, did you two… you know,” he asked, raising an eyebrow suggestively, “do it?”

Jon nearly stumbled over his own feet, his face reddening furiously. “Edd!” he hissed, glaring at him with wide eyes, horrified by the audacity. He shook his head vehemently. “No, we did not ‘do it.’ She’s—she’s my sister, for gods’ sakes!” he said, his voice a fierce whisper.

Edd only shrugged, unaffected by Jon’s irritation. “Sister by name, maybe, but you seem to look at her in a way that makes it clear she’s… different. No shame in it, Jon,” he added with a slight grin. “We’ve all seen it. If she’s not just a sister to you, well, that’s your business.”

Jon’s fists clenched at his sides, his patience fraying. He glanced at you, still obliviously walking ahead, engrossed in conversation with Mormont, and took a deep breath, trying to keep his voice steady. “It’s not like that. I care about her, but it’s not… I wouldn’t… disrespect her like that,” he muttered, his voice rough with frustration and something else, something he wasn’t sure he wanted to admit even to himself.

But Sam, emboldened by Edd’s remarks and the spark of mischief that rarely came to him, leaned in with an apologetic smile. “I don’t think Edd means disrespect, Jon. But… it’s plain to see. The way you look at her, it’s different. More than just kin. It’s… well, it’s the way someone looks at a person they love.”

Jon felt his throat tighten, the truth in Sam’s words cutting deeper than he wanted to admit. He had always known there was a part of him that saw you as more than family, as something unspoken, a bond he couldn’t define. But admitting it aloud, hearing it from his friends, was something else entirely.

“Look,” Jon said, his voice low and firm, glancing at each of them, “she means everything to me. She’s… part of me, and I would do anything to protect her. But whatever you think you’re seeing, it’s not what you think.”

Grenn raised his hands in surrender, smirking. “Alright, alright, no need to bite our heads off, Jon. Just sayin’. It’s hard to miss how you look at her, that’s all.”

Pyp chuckled, nudging Jon playfully. “No judgment here, Snow. If you want to write to the Old Gods and take her as your lady, we’ll all be here to toast you.”

Jon sighed, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. “You lot are impossible,” he muttered, shaking his head, though a small, reluctant smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Just then, you turned around, glancing over your shoulder to see the group of men huddled close, clearly discussing something with amused looks on their faces. You raised an eyebrow, a faint smile on your lips as you called back, “Are you all plotting something back there?”

Jon straightened, trying to school his expression into one of casual innocence. “Just… keeping each other warm,” he replied, his voice more gruff than he intended.

You chuckled, your gaze lingering on him for a moment, your eyes filled with the warmth he had missed more than he would ever say. “Don’t let me interrupt your brotherly bonding, then,” you said lightly, your smile softening as you turned back to Mormont.

The others waited until you were a few steps ahead before Pyp broke into a laugh, clapping Jon on the back. “Brotherly bonding, huh? If only she knew.”

Jon shot him a look, but the smile on his face lingered this time, his heart lighter than it had felt in days.

The attack had come without warning, swift and brutal. Wildlings burst out from the treeline, shrieking battle cries as they closed in on the Night’s Watch party. In the confusion, the brothers had scattered, each fighting to hold their ground amidst the chaos. Swords clashed, arrows flew, and the thick scent of blood filled the cold air.

Jon moved on instinct, his focus narrowed to one goal: keeping you safe. He had seen you knocked to the ground in the initial rush, fighting your way back up as you swung at any Wildling that dared come near. When the line broke, he grabbed your hand, pulling you along as he ducked through the melee, Ghost and Shadow flanking you both, snarling and snapping to hold back any attackers.

“Stay close!” he yelled over the clamor, tightening his grip on your hand.

The world was a blur of flashing steel, shouts, and the red of the setting sun casting an eerie glow over the snow. You clung to Jon, your breaths coming fast as you followed his lead, trusting him implicitly.

“We’re getting separated!” you cried, glancing over your shoulder to see the others scattering, pushing back against the Wildling assault. “Jon, where are we going?”

“Anywhere but here!” he shouted, guiding you toward a narrow path that sloped down into a ravine, its dark mouth hidden by the dense thicket. Ghost and Shadow moved beside you, their hackles raised, eyes fixed on the wild, shifting shadows as you stumbled into the shelter of the ravine.

Once inside, Jon glanced back, his eyes searching the treeline for any sign of the Night’s Watch or the Wildlings, but all he could see was the distant flicker of movement and hear the fading cries of battle.

“Let’s lay low here,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he guided you deeper into the ravine, the walls of stone narrowing around you like protective arms. The howling wind above barely touched the sheltered hollow, leaving an eerie, insulated silence.

You slid down onto a flat patch of ground, your breath coming in gasps as you leaned back against the cold stone. Jon sat beside you, his own breathing ragged, his eyes scanning the dim surroundings, ever watchful.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, his gaze finally settling on you, a glint of worry softening his usual stern expression.

You shook your head, managing a faint smile despite the exhaustion weighing you down. “I’m alright. Just… a bit shaken.”

Jon nodded, his hand resting on your shoulder in silent reassurance. Ghost and Shadow settled nearby, their keen eyes fixed on the entrance to the ravine, ears twitching at every faint sound. You could feel the warmth of Jon’s hand through your cloak, steady and grounding amidst the turmoil.

After a moment, he spoke, his voice low and filled with unspoken concern. “I thought I’d lost you back there.”

You looked at him, his face etched with worry, his dark eyes heavy with the weight of what he didn’t say aloud. “You didn’t,” you replied, reaching over to cover his hand with yours. “I’m here, Jon. And I’m not going anywhere.”

His gaze softened as he looked down at your hand resting on his. For a moment, the danger outside the ravine seemed to vanish, leaving just the two of you in this small, quiet world. “I know it’s selfish, but… I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you. Not out here, not where I can’t protect you.”

You swallowed, the sincerity in his voice tugging at something deep within you. “Jon, you’re not responsible for me,” you whispered, though part of you felt a fierce comfort in the thought that he wanted to be.

He shook his head, his fingers tightening around yours. “It’s not about responsibility. It’s… I’ve always felt it. Like you’re a part of me, and if I lost you…” His voice broke off, his gaze falling as he struggled to find the words.

You took a steadying breath, feeling the weight of his words settle over you like a blanket, warm and overwhelming. “I feel the same,” you admitted softly, your voice barely more than a whisper. “That’s why I came here, Jon. To be with you. To make sure you’re safe. Because I can’t bear the thought of you out here, alone.”

The silence hung between you, heavy with meaning, each unspoken word more powerful than anything you could say aloud. Jon’s gaze met yours, his eyes filled with an intensity that made your heart race.

Before either of you could speak again, a low growl rumbled from Ghost. Jon turned, instantly alert, his hand instinctively going to his sword as he scanned the entrance of the ravine. But nothing appeared—only the shifting shadows and the faint whistle of the wind above.

“Looks like we’ll be safe here for a while,” he murmured, his posture relaxing slightly as he looked back at you.

You nodded, pulling your cloak tighter around yourself to ward off the chill. “This place feels like a world away from everything,” you murmured, glancing around at the stone walls towering above, the narrow slice of sky visible through the crack in the rock. “It’s almost… peaceful.”

Jon smiled faintly, his hand drifting to your shoulder as he leaned closer, his voice soft. “Then maybe it’s exactly where we’re supposed to be.”

You settled against him, the warmth of his presence easing the lingering tremors in your body. For the first time since crossing the Wall, you felt a semblance of safety, cradled in the shelter of the ravine with Jon beside you, Ghost and Shadow keeping watch.

Jon’s hand found yours again, his fingers weaving through yours, and he let out a quiet sigh. “Maybe we can rest here for a while. Just… be here. With you.”

You gave his hand a gentle squeeze, your heart swelling with a warmth that defied the cold of the Northern wilderness. “I’d like that,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper as you leaned into him, letting yourself savor this rare moment of peace.

In the stillness of the ravine, surrounded by stone and shadows, the world outside felt like a distant memory, leaving just the two of you, together, in a place that felt like home.

As night settled over the ravine, the cold intensified, creeping through even the thickest layers of fur and leather. The two of you huddled together beneath Jon’s cloak, your bodies pressed close to share warmth, while Ghost and Shadow stood vigilant at the mouth of the narrow shelter, their eyes glowing faintly in the dim light.

Jon’s arm was wrapped around you, holding you tightly against him, his breath warming your cheek. His presence was steady, calming, grounding you in a way that made the frigid air and harsh wilderness feel like a distant threat, something beyond the safe bubble you shared with him. You felt his heartbeat, strong and steady, as he kept you close, his touch gentle but possessive.

After a long silence, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, tinged with a softness he reserved only for you. “I’ve missed this,” he murmured, his thumb brushing along your shoulder. “Just… having you close, feeling like we’re the only two people in the world.”

You looked up at him, catching the intensity in his gaze, and a warmth bloomed in your chest, spreading outward, filling every corner of you. “I missed it, too,” you whispered, your hand drifting up to rest on his chest, feeling the strength beneath the fabric, the warmth of him seeping into your fingertips. “Out here, it feels like nothing else matters. Like it’s just us.”

Jon’s gaze softened, his fingers tracing a line along your cheek, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. “It is just us,” he said quietly, his thumb brushing over your lips, lingering there as if memorizing the shape of your mouth. “Here, there’s no one else… no duties, no vows. Just you and me.”

His words hung in the air, heavy and full of meaning. You felt a flutter in your chest as his hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, his forehead pressing gently against yours. The warmth of his breath mingled with yours, and for a moment, the world outside faded entirely, leaving only the two of you in the intimacy of that shared space.

Slowly, his lips met yours, tentative at first, then deepening as he felt you respond, your hands sliding up to his shoulders, pulling him closer. The kiss grew more intense, a release of every unspoken word, every lingering glance, every hidden feeling that had been building between you. His fingers tangled in your hair, his other hand moving to your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.

Your breaths quickened as you melted into him, letting go of the worries, the fears, the doubts that had haunted you. Here, in his arms, everything felt right, natural, as if you had been waiting for this moment all your life.

He broke the kiss, his forehead still pressed against yours as he looked at you, his eyes dark with emotion, his voice low and rough. “I don’t want this to end,” he whispered, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on your back. “I want to stay here… with you. Forever, if I could.”

You smiled softly, your fingers brushing over his cheek, feeling the roughness of his skin, the warmth beneath it. “Forever is a very long time, Jon,” you murmured, a hint of playful affection in your tone.

He chuckled, his smile softening as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Then let it be as long as it wants to be. As long as I have you, I don’t care.”

The weight of his words settled over you, filling you with a warmth that chased away the last remnants of cold. You pulled him down, your lips finding his again, and this time there was no hesitation, no holding back. The night stretched on as you surrendered to the intensity of his touch, each caress a promise, each kiss a declaration.

When you finally lay together, wrapped in his arms beneath the cloak, the aftermath of your shared passion lingering like a quiet warmth, Jon held you close, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin. “I mean it,” he whispered, his voice soft but firm. “I want to be with you. I want this… forever.”

You looked up at him, your heart swelling at the sincerity in his eyes, a smile playing on your lips. “Then forever it is,” you whispered, leaning up to kiss him one last time, sealing the promise as the two of you drifted into a peaceful slumber, safe and together beneath the stars.

The early morning light filtered down through the trees, casting a muted glow over the ravine as you and Jon stirred, tangled together beneath his cloak. The warmth of his body beside you, the steady rise and fall of his chest, grounded you in a way that made you wish the moment could last forever. But the world around you began to wake, a reminder that reality was waiting, and you would have to step back into it soon.

Ghost’s ears twitched, and he lifted his head, alert, his red eyes fixed on the approaching figures at the mouth of the ravine. Moments later, Mormont and the others emerged from the trees, their footsteps crunching through the snow. Mormont’s keen gaze settled on you and Jon, his expression unreadable as he took in the sight of you both huddled close, still wrapped in the cloak.

“There you are,” Mormont said, his tone brisk as he scanned the area. “We lost sight of you two during the skirmish. Thought we might have lost you.”

Jon shifted beside you, pulling away slightly, though his hand lingered on yours for just a heartbeat longer. “We took cover here, Lord Commander,” he explained, his voice steady as he rose to his feet, extending a hand to help you up. “It was… safer to wait for the attack to end.”

Mormont’s gaze flicked between you and Jon, his eyes lingering a bit longer on the closeness you’d shared, but he only nodded, his tone gruff as ever. “Good thinking. You’ve both made it through, and that’s what matters.”

Sam, Grenn, and Pypar exchanged glances, their eyes alight with curiosity, though they wisely kept their questions to themselves. Jon glanced over at you, catching your eye, and for a moment, the world seemed to narrow to just the two of you, a quiet understanding passing between you, a silent acknowledgment of the night you had shared.

As the group began to move out of the ravine, Sam fell into step beside Jon, casting him a sidelong glance, his cheeks slightly pink. He hesitated, glancing at the others to make sure they were out of earshot before he leaned in closer, his voice barely above a whisper. “So… Jon,” he ventured, his tone both hesitant and eager, “how… how was it?”

Jon stiffened, his expression tightening as he shot Sam a look. “Sam, don’t,” he muttered, glancing around to make sure no one else was listening. “It’s… it’s not something we should be talking about.”

But Sam’s curiosity wouldn’t be so easily deflected. He offered Jon an encouraging, almost conspiratorial smile. “Come on, Jon,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I’ve… I’ve never known someone who… well, who had something like that. It’s just… well, I’m curious.”

Jon sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable. But he knew Sam meant no harm, and the eagerness in his friend’s face was difficult to resist. After a moment of hesitation, he leaned in slightly, his voice low and reluctant. “It was… more than I ever imagined, Sam,” he admitted, his gaze flicking forward to where you walked. “Being with her, it felt… like it was meant to be.”

Sam’s eyes widened, his expression a mixture of awe and excitement. “Jon, that’s… that’s wonderful,” he murmured, his tone almost reverent. “But… you know, the others… they might not understand. Mormont especially…”

Jon nodded, his expression hardening slightly as he considered the implications. “I know. Which is why I need you to keep it between us, Sam. It’s… it’s private, and it’s something that I don’t want the others to know about.”

Sam’s face grew serious, and he nodded solemnly. “Of course, Jon. I promise. I’ll keep your secret safe.”

Jon offered him a small, grateful smile, a sense of relief washing over him. “Thank you, Sam,” he said softly. “I appreciate it.”

As they walked on in silence, Jon’s gaze drifted back to you. You glanced over your shoulder, catching his eye, and a soft smile touched your lips, a silent communication that only the two of you could understand. It was a fleeting moment, but it held a world of meaning, a promise that whatever challenges lay ahead, you would face them together.

With Sam beside him and you up ahead, Jon felt a rare sense of peace settle over him, the weight of his secret shared, his heart lightened by the presence of those he held closest. For the first time since joining the Night’s Watch, he allowed himself to believe in the possibility of happiness, however fleeting it might be.