authorsnotes: guuurl, I should update my other fics but damn this one crept up on me.

timelines will be a bit funky/messed up on this one, I've had to pull some stuff forward and shove some stuff back but timeline changes should be well explained. also, some moments are so unrealistic I can't even justify them so pls just go with it - nothing superweird, but pls don't me that 'character x would not act this way' yah I know but I gotta move things along, those moments will be rare and again justified. also for the rating, it will be eventual m.

hope you enjoy, if you do pls review, let me know if you'd like this to continue.

songrecommendations: I can't pretend - tom odell

The air carried a chill, even South of the Wall he was too far North for there to be any warmth, and yet he barely felt it. His time in the true North, Beyond the Wall had hardened him to the cold perhaps. He saw the wind whip through the trees, felt the last trickles of rain and yet he felt no cold. His wildling furs did a good job of warming him, more than his crow garb, and so he felt no chill as he rode away. Rode away from the tower, his horse riding hard, as he felt blood trickle down his cheeks from Orell's attack … as he left Ygritte behind.

He loved her, he did, there was no denying that to himself, but not enough. He had thought he loved her with everything he had, still did, but it hadn't been enough. He had a duty, a duty to Castle Black. He had no doubt once he returned, they would execute him, or exile him if he was lucky, but that didn't matter, he had sworn a vow before the godswood, he wanted to honour that vow, and he would, and so he rode for Castle Black.

He would not abandon his vow. Once he had almost, but that had been for family. It hadn't been enough with Ygritte.

'Love is the death of duty'

Maester Aemon had said that once, but perhaps to him, duty had been the death of love.

He felt a wetness at his eyes as he rode on, and he knew it was more than blood. Had he made the right choice? It disheartened him a little that as soon as he asked himself that question, he knew the answer … yes. There had been no choice, he had sworn his vow, pledged himself to his brothers. He may have walked with the wildlings, worn their clothes, and marched with them, hell he had climbed the Wall with them, but he had not been one of them.

'Crow'

Aye, he was a crow, is a crow, and he would not abandon his post. 'I will live and die at my post, from this night and for all nights to come'. There was very little that would make him break such a vow.

His face stung, but he rode a few good hours before he had to stop, next to a small pond. He dabbed at his wounds with water and let his horse rest. He was dry now, the rain had stopped, and he knew Castle Black wasn't too far, a few days ride at most. He'd be home soon, home at Castle Black, and he would face whatever judgement they had for him.

He dabbed more water on his cheek, but then he heard something, something subtle, a shifting of feet and he felt someone watching him. He knew who it was without looking up, but when he did lift his gaze, he saw her, hair kissed by fire.

Ygritte, an arrow notched, ready.

'I love you; I know you love me' Back and forth, to her he had betrayed, to him he had followed his vows of the nights watch. She looked ready to cry, he already had tears on his cheeks.

She fired one into his leg, and it hurt, he moaned in pain and then he was gone, his horse riding hard for Castle Black, and he felt another arrow fly over his head, but she had missed. She didn't miss.

And so, he rode away, hard and fast, tears on his cheeks, but not from the pain of the arrow but for the woman he loved, and had left behind, for it hadn't been enough.

The hood was pulled hard over her head, to cover every lock of her hair. The large cloak covered her dress, the plainest one she could find in her wardrobe, of grey with a purple pattern. It was too formal, but it had been the best she could do, the cloak was too clean as well but again it was the best she could do. She wore no adornment, only a small dragonfly necklace she had been gifted by her parents for her 10th nameday, once she had swapped it for the one of gold Joffrey had given her, but no longer.

She wore no other jewel, no other adornment, hood up and head down, to blend in.

And thankfully no one had paid her any mind. Perhaps because she kept her gaze on the floor, her bag was hooked under her cloak, and it was an ungodly hour of the morning. Perhaps it was because there were so few people at the docks. It didn't matter, all that mattered was that she was keeping her head down and no one paid her any mind.

And good to, for she was not supposed to be here.

They had told her the night before, that she was to marry Lord Tyrion, the Imp, and worst of all a Lannister. She had vomited when she had heard, vomited, and cried as Shae held back her hair. They wanted to marry her for her claim, as her mother and brother had perished just a week earlier.

They wouldn't even let her mourn before they planned to make her one of them. Cloak her in red and gold and make her Lannister. She would rather die; she would rather go to the seven hells than marry a Lannister.

That had been her first though, what was the point in living now? Why live? Everyone she loved was gone. Father beheaded, mother and Robb betrayed, Arya missing, Bran and Rickon butchered. No one left, only Jon and no doubt he hated her for their childhood. All gone, even Lady, even the servants of Winterfell, all gone, she was all alone, so why?

So, why should she live? She had almost done it to, dangled out of her window and almost let go. She'd heard that when people jumped from high enough, they blacked out before they hit the bottom and that was what she hoped for, to go easy, peacefully. For what other choice did she have?

One other, one that would mean being brave.

'I am a Stark; I can be brave'

'I have turned from porcelain, to ivory, to steel'

'Wolves are supposed to be brave, aren't they?'

There was one other choice, and if the alternate was suicide then who cared? Who cared if they found her and dragged her back? She had to try, and so for the first time since she had become a prisoner Sansa had contemplated escape, she had thought of her own bravery, because she would require it all.

She had sat for an hour on the floor of her room, eyes cast down, hands twined in her lap. For an hour she considered and considered. She had caught her own gaze in the mirror and her gaze had turned hard. She could do this, she could.

And she would.

She had left it until the last minute, knowing any preparation would tip someone off. So, she had acted as normal, not slept a wink through the night and then had taken her bag, filled with as many valuables as she could stuff inside before she had slipped away. Out her window, through the Red Keep, down to the docks. It had been easy almost, the guards on duty this early either drunk of asleep as she slipped past, tread silent, eyes wide.

And now, at the smelly docks as the sun barely peeped over the horizon. She stood, among men heading for all corners of the world. Where would she go?

"Ships to anchor" The Captains called, and Sansa resisted the urge to make a break for the nearest ship. Instead she waited, like a good lady, waited as men booked passage, before stepping forward to book her own.

Where to go now?

Who did she have left? No one. Part of her thought to go to White Harbour, to try and find some Stark loyalists, but she had no idea who was left to fight for the Starks in the North, who would stand with her? Or would they sell her back to the Lannister's? Who else did she have? Did she go to Dorne? Where she heard the people were kind, the weather was warm, and live life as a commoner? Or the Vale? Where her aunt was, her last blood.

Yes, her aunt, that was her best choice, her mother's sister, her last flesh, and blood. Where else could she go? What other choice did she have? She had some money in her bag, some valuables but it wouldn't be enough, and that aside she couldn't risk capture, she couldn't risk being dragged back to King's Landing. She had few choices left, and so her aunts in the Vale it would be. Perhaps Littlefinger would be there as well, perhaps he would protect her.

'Men only want one thing from a pretty girl'

She tried to shake Shae's voice out of her head. How she wished her loyal handmaid were with her now, but no … she had to go it alone.

She could do it alone, she would do it alone, she had no one left now, she had to be strong.

"Erm" Her voice was gentle, too gentle for the common woman she was trying to portray, and she knew despite her plain dress it was too high quality, and she spoke and walked like a noble woman. She had to try and blend in, and so she kept her voice low. "Are you going to the Vale?"

"Not here girl" He said with a shake of his head, "I'm going home, to Bravos, passage is 10 silver stags"

She considered for a moment but no, what would she do in Bravos? It would be safer perhaps, to leave Westeros, to avoid capture but what could she do there? She knew no one, had no idea of the language, culture, currency, nothing. No, she knew Westeros at least, she could communicate with people.

And so, she thanked the Captain and departed. The next two ships were the same, a shake of the head. One was going to the Summer Isles, another to Dorne. She paused at the last one, did she go to the sun? But again, she didn't know anyone, it would be more familiar than Bravos, but no.

The fourth and final ship was the smallest, a crew of only 20 and fewer passengers on board. Whereas the others were filling up this one remained half empty. She stepped onboard and approached the Captain, he gave her a smile that seemed kind, but she kept her guard up, she had learnt on her lesson on being too trusting.

"To the Vale?" She asked, timidly, praying, hoping, but again it was a shake of the head.

"No lass" He said, a drop of pity in his expression, "She's bound for Eastwatch by the Sea"

At that her gaze snapped up, of course! Jon! How could she forget Jon?! Sure, she had never been close with him, but he was family. She could go to Jon at Castle Black, he was strong, brave, he would protect her. Perhaps she'd even be able to stay with him, offer to work, or perhaps he could put her in one of the villages in the Gift, keep her close and safe. She would be safer there than anywhere else she could think of.

And so, she would go to Jon.

She nodded at the Captain then, "How much?" She asked, and he narrowed his eyes at her, she tried to remain calm, she was a terrible liar and yet now she would have to be better, she would have to be.

"Don't take many girls to the Wall" He said, phrasing it as a question and Sansa knew she had no choice but to answer as he crossed his arms.

"My father lives in the North" She said, for it had been true and it was the first thing to come to mind, "My husband lives in Kings Landing, but I'm going to visit" A lie, a good cover story too, if anyone came asking why would they listen to a tale of a girl going to visit her father?

The Captain seemed to accept her story, "Floor or cabin?"

"Cabin" She said immediately, it didn't matter how much it cost, she had to stay hidden. It might be foolish, but she knew, her hair was too distinct, her looks too pretty, her mannerisms too noble. She had to avoid detection, and so he nodded, she handed over 10 pieces of silver and a cabin it was.

The Captain looked like he wanted to say something but once she paid, she swept past him. She wanted no advice, she only wanted to get aboard, to leave this awful place, to be safe.

With Jon she was sure she would be safe.

Once aboard she turned to look over the edge back at King's Landing, she knew she should hide in her cabin but she couldn't tear herself away, couldn't stop her gaze scanning the docks, expecting goldcloaks, Lannister soldiers, perhaps Tywin Lannister himself. She kept watching and watching, for what felt like hours.

But only fifteen minutes later and the Captain called to push away, the anchor was hoisted, and they were off, into Blackwater Bay, away from King's Landing, away from her prison.

And she watched, feeling a little numb. She was sure relief would come later when she was with Jon. She was sure she would cry with relief when she slept, she would weep with reprieve, but for the moment she just watched.

She watched as Kings Landing became smaller and smaller, smaller and smaller, until she could no longer see it at all, and then once in the comfort of her own cabin, once her door was locked and she was alone, then, and only then did Sansa Stark weep with joy.

She was free, and soon she would be North, North with Jon, her family, her only remaining family.

'Oh, it would be sweet, to see him once again'

hope you enjoyed, lemme know if you want this continued, if you like the concept. I haven't seen this done before and so yeh yeh.

pls review/fav/follow blah blah

peace out