With her blue hooded cape flapping around her ankles and her head covered so thoughroughly that she could barely see through the tight gap she held, Sansa pushed her way through the cold heavy snow. Her boots were filled with the slush of melted ice and the numbness had inevitably turned to pain. The horses ploded on behind them but Ser Granten had warned that should the snow get much deeper the mares would surely perish and if the temperatures became any lower perhaps they themselves would too.

Even with her eyelashes dusted with snowflakes and her hips sore from striding, Sansa found warmth in the hope and thoughts of reuniting with Jon. She would tell him of all her struggles; Joffrey, Cercei, her marriage to the imp and everything else. He would comfort her and make her feel welcome at Castle Black. They would greive over the loss of their family together and grow closer for it. Sansa and Jon were never the closest of the Stark siblings. Jon and Arya were near inseperable and Bran and Rickon were feircely fond of each other also. Sansa mostly kept herself to herself but after all she had endured and after what loss they shared, Sansa knew that she and Jon could build a relashionship the Gods would smile upon.

"I wouldnt think it much further now m'lady. through those trees and over the hill in the distance there then I am sure the wall will give it away!" One of the squires yelled to her over the deafening sounds of swirling wind and the ringing of her own ears. When Lord Baelish had sent her to her bastard brother on the wall with a small party of two squires, a handmaiden and two knights to acompany her, Sansa thought the Gods had afflicted him with madness. She was his ultimate power peice, Cousin Robyn was still young and sickly and after what had happened to Aunt Lysa, she was his only course of action. It was only when she heard of his true plans that she realized why he had taken 'knowledge is power' for his house words. Sansa was to go to the wall to enlist the men of the nights watch in Baelish's subtle game for the throne. Of course they could not swear fealty to any one house and could not fight for one or another, they could still create the illusion of a show of strength to enemies afar.

"It will be getting dark soon my lady, perhaps we should rest for the night beneath the trees, if we rise early enough we could arrive fresh at The Black and in time to break our fast." Ser Granten tried to persuade her.

"We will not stop Ser, I fully intend to meet with my brother this night. The snow is finer beneath the tree cover, if we water the horses now we can ride through the forest to the opening and then dismount. The final stretch of our journey wont be as long as you think, I asure you." Sansa replied with authority.

The skies had been black for many hours when the flickering flames from the torches across the wall began to draw near. Only a few short hours remained before the day would break. As Sansa and her companions approched the main gate of Castle Black, they were haulted by the shouts of the guardsman from his tower. Demanding they identify themselves and state their business.

"You have the honour of adressing the Lady Sansa of house Stark of Winterfell and I am Ser Granten of house Cahill, our business is with Lord Commander Mormont. Inform him of our arrival and make haste. We are cold, tired and hungry so should there be a warm bed and perhaps some bread and fish waiting for us inside Im sure a gold dragon would find its way into your pocket. Now go!" Ser Granten called to the guard. A mere boy with a pocked face and hair so greasy it clung to his face like seaweed to a rock. The boy appeared dazed and replied.

"The Lord Commander is dead Ser, has been since the wildlings came. Jon Snow has taken command of the watch for now, until Lord Mormont's position can be properly filled."

Sansa wasnt sure what shocked her more, the thought of wildlings making it over the wall or her brother Jon comanding the nights watch. She looked to Ser Granten in question, though he himself was confused and silent.

"Then... Then fetch me Jon Snow and hurry up about it boy!" He finally spat. The boy ran off and before long the gates opened, permitting them entry to the fabled Castle Black.

Sansa had heard many tales of the wall and of Castle Black. It was known to be a dark, cold and unforgiving place. Filled with theives and rapers. Her expectations were not dissapointed. The stench of unwashed men and horse manure filled the air, Sansa was so cold she could barely move and the bedchamber she had been given was so small that she and her handmaiden filled it easily.

She could hear the nights watchmen passing by her door on their way to the dining hall to break their fast. It was then that Sansa realised how hungry she was. She decided that filling her belly would aid her in getting some sleep later in the morning, so she changed out of her soaked dirty clothes, bathed and changed into a fresh gown.

Once Sansa was in the dining hall she sat with Ser Granten and his squire and waited for Jon as they ate stale bread and fish. A fair time had passed before Ser Granten began to grow impatient.

"You there, boy!" He called to the young man from the guard who was now sat eating his fill. "Where is Jon Snow? Have you called for him?" He asked sternly.

The boy shifted awkwardly in his seat and merely glanced at Ser Granten as he spoke.

"Y..yes m'lord but..."

"But what boy? Find your voice for the sake of the seven!" Ser Granten yelled.

"J..Jon Snow is out beyond the wall m'lord, he may not return for a few days at least." The boy finally admitted meekly.

"What?! And when did you plan to tell me this?!" He raged.

The boy only glared at Ser Granten and after the scene he'd created, the rest of the dining hall were glaring at them too, Sansa realised. Poor Ser Granten had never really wanted to make this trip, he begged Lord Baelish to find a younger more worldly knight to escort her but Littlefinger was determined and all his plans had to be executed to the finest degree. Now the aging knight's temper was begining to fray and from the looks on the faces of the other men in the room, now was not the time nor the place.

"This is a disgrace!" He shouted as he slammed his tankard down on the table, wine spilling up over the edges and over his food. "What kind of home for simpletons has Mormont been running here?! How can you defend the wall for the realm if you have no leader and all the communication skills of wet trouts?!" Ser Granten continued. Sansa could see that some of the men were getting agitated and placing their hands on their swords. She took hold of the knights elbow gently and whispered for him to sit down. It was too late, one of the men shot out of his seat and lunged at Ser Granten, the man held his sword to Ser Granten's throat side on and pushed his face forward so they were almost nose to nose.

"Listen old man, you might think you're a fancy knight whos better than we are but you haven't seen half of the things we have up here lately." The man spat.

"So if Snow needs to go beyond the wall, you'll sit the fuck down, shut the fuck up and wait for him. Is that understood?" He asked. Ser Granten became very quiet and simply nodded in acceptance.

"Good because these men have been through enough and if you disturb them when they are trying to eat a bit of food again I'll draw this sword from your belly to your brains, got it?" Ser Granten nodded again. The man returned to his table and continued his breakfast as if nothing had happened, before long the rest of the room had returned to normal as well. Ser Granten did not speak again for the rest of the day.