There is some probably poorly written smut in this chapter, so you are aware!

JON

"You don't miss much, do you, Jon? We could use a man like you on the Wall."

His uncle's words were ringing in his ears, while all the other noise around him faded. Orrina even told him, no one cared about bastards at the Wall, bastards could rise up, be officers of the Night Watch. Benjen immediately tried to take it back, but his words stuck with Jon. His uncle may have meant years from now, but as Jon drank and watched Orrina up at the high table, he thought more of it.

She looked beautiful in her gown, even more so on Theon Greyjoy's arm. He was pleased that she didn't look happy about it and even pulled away from him, but she looked like she belonged. Orrina didn't look out of place even amongst the royal family. Her brown hair was shiny and gleamed in the flickering candle light. Her dress hugged her tightly and stood out against her pale Northern skin. To Jon, Orrina was the most radiant, beautiful woman amongst them.

And she wanted him, to marry him, the Bastard of Winterfell.

At first the thought filled him with pride, made him sit straighter at his table at the back of the Great Hall. The other boys bragged who they squired for, fights they've won, but they didn't know the love he had. They didn't know what it felt like to hold Orrina Mormont in their arms and hear her whisper that she loved him.

But the more the wine flowed, and the more cups he threw back, Jon found himself slumping over and the dread creep in. Could he really marry someone like her? Someone fierce, and strong, and beautiful, did she deserve to be tied down to Ned Stark's bastard? Orrina may not think it, but she could have married anyone at that feast. She could be a great Lord's wife, and bear him children, she would be a good Lady. She would treat everyone fairly, and be friends to everyone. Her children could grow to be as strong as her, and with the right family name, it would make all the difference.

He thought of his daydreams, of their own children. What could he give them? What could he give her? Nothing but the reputation of the girl who married Ned Stark's bastard. He had no home for them. He couldn't provide for her, let alone for any children they would have. And how would Lady Stark react? How would they be treated? He couldn't put his future children through that. To have people look down on them because of their birth, to hold something against them they had no control over.

No, his uncle's words rang clear to him as soon as he said them. He could be someone at the Wall. The Stark's were friends of the Watch, it was a noble choice. Many Stark's, outside of Benjen, had served the Watch, even became Lord Commanders. It would ease Lady Catelyn's thoughts, he would have no wife, no children to come steal Robb's claim. Orrina would hate him, he knew, but she would get over it. His father would keep his word to the Old Bear, he'd find someone else for her. She would move on, be a good wife, a good mother, to someone who deserved her. Someone who could give her a home, a name, a life.

He was starting to get sick from the wine, but kept drinking anyways. Ghost sat at his feet, the only one of his siblings that was allowed to be there. His direwolf licked his fingers as Jon drained another cup. He felt like he was going to throw up, and then Orrina Mormont stood up and broke into song.

Her voice gripped his heart, and churned his stomach. He felt that familiar stirring in his chest, that only happened when he looked at her. Ghost let out a pathetic whine, clearly picking up on his distress. Jon could see the way other men looked at her, the squires he sat with, watched her with rapt attention, even the King himself stopped shouting long enough for her to finish her song.

Anger, shame, guilt, admiration all swirled in his gut, mixing with the wine and Jon knew he had to escape. He couldn't stand to see this anymore, but he couldn't take his eyes off of her. His own burned, threatening with tears to fall onto his flushed cheeks. He watched her, his girl, sway to the music, as other's merrily joined in on The Bear and the Maiden Fair. He was hers, but he was realizing she could never be his. He couldn't allow her to throw her life away.

Abruptly, Jon stood from the table, knocking into a serving girl as the tears started to freely fall. He needed to get out, get away from this, out into the cold and out of the heavy air of the Great Hall that threatened to suffocate him. He felt his dinner, his wine and the emotional turmoil bubble in his stomach, Jon was doing all that he could to hold it down.

That's how the Imp, Tyrion Lannister found Jon Snow, doubled over, breathing in heavy breaths, trying not to vomit, his cheeks wet. In his drunken haze, he spoke with the Imp. His words didn't make sense at the moment, ringing hollow in his ears, but he would remember them later. He would find comfort in them. But not now.

Not when Orrina found him and stole his breath away. Not when she ran to him, eyes full of relief and hugged him close. It had been too long since he was alone with her, only able to share side glances and secret notes slipped under doors. He should have hugged her back, should have swept her off her feet, and kissed her deeply. He should have done it all, one last time before he told her. Before she would hate him.

Jon was vaguely aware that she was speaking to him, his emotions were whirling around in his head, thundering in his ears. He wasn't sure which was louder, that or erratic beating of his heart.

"I'm joining the Night's Watch, I'm going to take the Black." The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.

Part of him wanted to take them back as soon as they passed his lips, it made his decision real. He couldn't take back the hurt in those burnt sugar eyes, but he couldn't falter now. This was all he had to offer, all he could do. She had to know that she was doing it for her as well.

He didn't have time to explain to her, not before Orrina reached out and struck him. It wasn't a hard slap, but it was enough to sober him a little. He wasn't sure if it was the tears freezing to his cheeks that stung more or the slap.

"Why, why would you do that Jon?" Her voice broke, and the same hand that just hit him gripped him by the front of his shirt. "There's nothing for you there. The only men who man the Wall now are criminals, thieves and rapists. You are better than that." Orrina urged him, fingers curling into him tightly.

"No, I'm not!" Jon ripped away from her, knowing that he should lower his voice. The sounds of the feast were enough to cover their argument but he shouldn't yell at her, she didn't deserve it. But he needed her to understand. "You may not care about me being a bastard, but everyone else does!" He turned away from Orrina, not wanting to see the look on her face.

"It's all anyone cares about. If we got married, it's all anyone would say about you. We would have nowhere to go, Lady Catelyn will hate our children like she hates me. Everyone thinks I'm just biding my time until I can make my claim against Robb."

The alcohol flowed through him, this was the first time he had ever drunk this much, and he was feeling it. He found himself unable to stop yelling, his temper flaring, threatening to engulf them both.

"You can act like you understand, but you don't!" Jon still couldn't bring himself to look at her, raking his fingers through his curls, desperate to make her understand. Desperate to make her realize she deserved better. "You are a trueborn, a daughter of Lord, no matter his crimes. You know your mother, and your whole family loves you! All I have is the Watch! It's the only thing I can do."

Orrina could bring up her father's crimes all she wanted, she could remind every person she met of what her father did, but it didn't make her understand. It didn't take away her highborn status. She couldn't understand what Jon felt, no matter how much he loved her and he could see them having a happy marriage, it didn't change who he was, and that he would always think she deserved more.

Jon finally turned to face her, expecting to see her shake with anger, expecting her to hit him again, maybe shove him and scream at him. He welcomed her anger, he deserved it. For letting them both think that they could have a life together. For leading them both to believe that they could overcome his bastardy. He should have stayed away from her. His father and his wife were keeping them away from each other for a reason, Jon should have realized this. They were both just hurting each other by trying to hold onto this fantasy.

But instead of her anger, Jon was faced with her tears. Orrina didn't shake with anger, but with sobs. An ugly sound escaped from her lips and Jon felt it pierce his heart. He had to do this. He had to let her go, even if it killed him. He would go to the Night's Watch, he would be ranger like his Uncle Benjen. Jeor Mormont would be his brother, and he could keep an eye on him for her. Orrina would like that, she worried for him. He could do that for her. He couldn't be her husband, but he could look after her family.

"You are so stupid, Jon Snow." Orrina choked out, furiously wiping away her tears with the back of her hand. "You have no idea what the Watch is, or what you are giving up." She sniffled, roughly pushing the long dark hair Jon loved so much, out of her face. She was still crying, but there was a ferocious look in her eye. If it wasn't for her fine gown, she would look as feral and deadly as their direwolves. "I'm not letting you go. I won't let you freeze to death at the Wall because of your skewed sense of honor."

Jon knew there were no words to make her understand, to heal the hurt that they were both feeling. And truthfully, there was no point now.

"You should go back inside now, Orrina." Jon said quietly, quickly swiping at his own eyes. He couldn't let her see him cry, he had to be strong enough to do this, for the both of them.

"This isn't over Jon," Orrina grabbed him again, he could feel the desperation rolling off of her. "I love you, and I'm not letting you do this." He could taste the saltiness of her tears on his lips. For the last two weeks, he had dreamed of kissing her again. He could feel himself giving in, his hands instinctively moving to her waist before he stopped himself.

"Go Lady Orrina," Jon forced the formality back into his voice, moving his arms back to his sides.

She held him for a moment longer, her tears leaving a stain on his shirt before turning back and running back into the castle. Leaving Jon standing there alone, broken hearted of his own accord, in the dark. Ghost started howling after Orrina left, a pathetic puppy howl, but a howl all the same. His brothers and sisters heard him, off in the kennels and joined in. The sound of their howls, and Orrina's sobs rang in his ears watching her retreat.

ORRINA

She feigned illness the next morning to avoid being summoned to breakfast. Luckily for her, her eyes were red and swollen from crying all night, her throat burned raw and no one questioned if she was really sick or not. Orrina couldn't bring herself to dress, to drag herself down to the hall again, to force food down her throat, to see Jon's face so soon again. She wanted to stay in her room and rage and cry. After running away from Jon, Orrina didn't go back to the feast, she rushed to her room, ripping her dress off of her body. She pulled the blankets from her bed, flinging them across the room. She upended her trunk of clothes, and knocked over everything off her bedside table.

Her screams couldn't be heard over the sound of the musicians, and she continued to rage until she collapsed in a half naked heap onto her floor, surrounded by her belongings.

This was something she hadn't felt before. It was fury, unbearable sadness, hopelessness, and heartbreak rolled into one. Jon was trying to leave her, just like her father left, like her grandfather left. It was becoming a very overwhelming theme in her life, and she had hoped that when the Old Bear left, it would be the last time she was being left behind somewhere.

For the better half of the morning, Orrina laid in bed, turning away the food she was sure Lady Cat had sent to her. She laid under her blankets, curled into a ball, hoping the weight of her blankets would just suffocate her. Jon had broken her heart, and she had no idea why.

Maybe he was right, maybe she would never understand what it was like to be a bastard. But Orrina still didn't think it mattered. Nothing anyone could say to her would change how she felt about Jon. She didn't care if other people would look down on her, it didn't matter to her and she couldn't understand why Jon didn't see that. She could scream until she was blue in the face, and he would never let go of being a bastard. She didn't know how to make him realize it didn't matter.

They didn't need anyone else but each other. They could go on their own, find their own way, make their own path. She was determined to make Jon realize. He didn't need to go to the Watch, they could be together on their own terms. Nothing else mattered, just each other.

After spending most of the day in fetal position, Orrina finally pushed her weary body out of bed. She had to find Benjen. He could convince Jon not to go. He would talk to Ned, forbid it. She would ask him to tell her grandfather to refuse Jon. She had to do something. She couldn't bear to watch Jon go to the Wall, freeze to death at his post, waiting for the cold or the wildlings to kill him.

During her time in Winterfell, she had tried to be mindful of her clothing. Her men's clothing and weapons were frowned upon so she had stored away her breeches and tucked her axe under them. But today she wanted to be true to herself. She had spent the better part of the last year in fine gowns, in silk, in lace, in different colors. She wanted to feel like herself today.

So she tied her hair back, pulled on her breeches, and a shirt that used to belong to her father. Orrina decided to forgo her axe today, although the temptation to carry it with her was strong. It brought her comfort but it wouldn't be wise to walk around with the royal family, an axe strapped to her back.

It took a while to find Benjen, she wasn't expecting him to find him in the glass gardens, her heart wrenching thinking of all the times she had met Jon here in the last few months. Benjen was admiring the winter roses that were near full bloom when he saw her barreling his way.

"Benjen!" She called out to him, urgency in her pace. She didn't give him a chance to greet her before going straight into her tangent. "Jon means to join the Watch, you have to talk him out of it!"

The First Ranger looked confused at first, dark eyebrows knit together until a sad sort of smile took over. "What makes you think I can convince him otherwise?"

"Because you have too," that was enough for Orrina.

"Listen, Orrina, I don't think Jon should go either. Not this young, but judging how strongly you feel about this, you know Jon. He will do what he wants. I don't agree with it, but you more than anyone, know the Watch needs good men."

"Then find different good men!" Orrina lashed out, angry fists on her hips. "Jon doesn't belong there."

"Anymore than I belong there?" Benjen raised an eyebrow at her. Normally she wouldn't want to offend him, but at this point, Jon's life was at stake and she didn't have time to worry about anyone else's feelings.

"You've already said your vows. Jon doesn't need to," she shook her head, strands of hair falling from it's tie. "My grandfather wanted us to get married, he won't let Jon join."

Benjen sighed heavily. Teenagers. He couldn't remember ever being this dramatic, and headstrong. But by the time he was Orrina's age, he had already had his father, brother and sister die. She was lucky to be able to be this emotional over a boy. That she didn't have more tragedies to keep her from being so passionate about his nephew.

"Your grandfather won't turn away any man willing to join."

"Jon isn't a man, he is still a boy!" She was shouting now, her emotions were simmering so closely to the edge, she was having a hard time containing them.

"But he is man enough for you to wed?"

Orrina let out a frustrated screech, resisting the urge to lash out and rip some of the plants out of their planters. "You've been a member of the Watch for your whole life, you don't know what it means to love someone!"

She felt bad as soon as she said the words, but they already left her lips and were out in the air between them.

"You're right. I don't. I tried to talk Jon out of it, I shouldn't have said anything to begin with. But I stand by it. He would make a fine officer, but he is too young. I've already talked to the maester about it. You need to calm down, Orrina."

Calm down isn't at all what she wanted to do, but she let Benjen's words sink in. It was Benjen who put this stupid idea into Jon's head. But he was also trying to keep him from going. If anyone knew what the Wall really was, it was Benjen Stark. She felt bad for yelling at him, for lashing out at him. Benjen had always been kind to her, and she wasn't treating him fairly.

"I love him, I can't let him join. I won't." Orrina felt the tears spring to her eyes again but blinked them away rapidly. She would not let her tears consume her again. She had work to do.

"I know, Little Cub," Benjen softened her with her grandfather's nickname. It was a sure fire way to quell the fire in her. "Let me handle it, you don't need to fly off the handle."

Orrina nodded and sniffled, and let Benjen distract her for several minutes. He asked her how Winterfell had been treating her since she came to live there. They passed the time talking about his family, one he didn't know very well because of his position in the Night's Watch.

"Go on, you should go find Jon. I saw him earlier, he looked just as miserable as you. He's in the Godswood." Benjen gave her a good natured smile, he didn't smile much so it warmed her considerably, all harsh words forgotten.

Quickly her feet found their way to the Godswood, half in a trance as she hurried to find Jon. She didn't know what she would say to him, she had to make him listen but all her arguments felt jumbled in her head. Her head and heart very heavy and weary from her sleepless night spent crying. But she couldn't give up now.

Jon kneeled over the black water of the pool in the Godswood, eyes closed in prayer. Benjen was right, he looked just as miserable as she felt. Orrina stood quietly, watching him, memorizing the way his lips moved in silent prayer. The way his brown hair, nearly black, curled into his closed eyes.

Orrina said nothing, but moved quietly around the pool and to Jon's side. If he heard her, he didn't give it away. His eyes stayed closed and he continued to pray while Orrina joined him, her knees sinking into the dark mud. The woods came alive around them, critters ran under foot, and she could hear Ghost off in the distance, twigs breaking under his paws while he hunted.

It came to her then, under the eyes of the Old Gods. In the place where they were free to be with each other, without prying eyes. There were no words to make Jon realize he was making a mistake. He could be just as willful as herself when he wanted to be, and this seemed to be one of those times.

When she opened her eyes, she saw Jon was looking at her. Once, she thought he was hard to read, her solemn boy, but now that she knew him, she realized how expressive his eyes could be. There was determination in them, but sadness. He really thought he was doing her a favor. Stupid boy.

Orrina said nothing, but reached out with shaking fingers to touch his cheek. He made a move to pull away but she brought her other hand to his face, to steady him, to force him to stay and look at her. His eyes softened but he opened his mouth to protest. Before he could get the words out, Orrina pressed her lips to his.

"Orrina," he said softly, half a protest and half a sigh. Like the night before, his hands found her waist and pulled her flush to him. Her arms circled around his neck, a heavy sigh escaping her lips.

Eventually her fingers found purchase his dark curls, something she had been wanting to do since she met him. Jon weakly tried to pull away again, even though his grip tightened on her hips, and his tongue cautiously sliding over her bottom lip. She didn't need to hear what he was going to say, she could already hear his voice in her head, telling her that they should stop. Jon had wanted to wait until they were married but now he was taking that chance from them.

Shifting, Orrina found herself straddling his lap, hands cupping the sides of his face. She felt his nervous hands hovering where her shirt was tucked into her breeches. There was a fire in her belly, threatening to boil over and engulf her in it's flames. With no regard of modesty, Orrina pulled her shirt off in one fluid motion.

Jon looked shocked, but his eyes darkened with lust all the same. All notion of protest seemed to melt away when she kissed him again, his hands warm against her skin. Nimble fingers worked on the ties of his tunic, loosening them while their lips fought for dominance. They broke apart only long enough for her to pull his shirt from his body.

Her fingers traced over his hard shoulders, trailing down the plains of his chest. It wasn't the hardened chest of a soldier, but there was no baby fat, just a softness to his muscles still. There was still nervous movement in the way Jon touched her, the way his fingers traced lightly under the hem of her small clothes, unsure what she was comfortable with. Unsure of what he was comfortable with.

Orrina had never been with someone like this before, and was letting her desire drive her. For the first time since Jon told her of his plans, her mind was blissfully blank. All she could think of was Jon. Jon who was shyly kissing her neck, Jon who made her shudder and sigh. Hungrily she placed a kiss to his shoulder, working out a way to rip the rest of the clothes off of her body.

She wanted him, here, under the eyes of the Old Gods. Under the weirwood where they found their comfort in each other, where she showed him how to throw an axe, where they laughed and fell in love. Their Gods blessed their growing love, Orrina knew that much to be true. She felt it in her heart, she felt it as Jon helped free her from her small clothes.

His eyes found hers, a swirling storm of lust but questioning. He was making sure she was still comfortable with this, with his advances. In response she kissed him again, softly this time, not the kiss of a desperate woman trying to keep him with her. He kept a hand on her back, and turned them over, so her back was pressed into the ground beneath them, she could feel the roots of the weirwood under her back.

Jon's lips brushed over her collar bone, feather light and sweet. It brought forth another sigh out of her, goose pimples breaking out all over her skin. If Jon was truly a maid like she was, Orrina wouldn't have been able to tell. Soon his mouth found her breast, and his eyes found hers again. Asking for permission again. The slightest of nods made him close his lips around her peak, pulling it into his mouth.

A moan escaped from her lips, fingers tightening in his curls as his tongue swirled over her nipple. She was on fire now, the cold Northern wind didn't affect her anymore. Jon was her source of warmth. Lower he continued, his calloused fingers working on the tie of her breeches. Orrina lifted her hips and let him pull them off without a second thought. Both of them were moving on pure instinct, and Jon didn't look to her for approval this time as his fingers found her center.

This time she cried out his name, his fingers working against her slickness. His mouth was pressed against her hip, his moan rippling over her skin. She squirmed under his touch, lifting her hips as he pressed a finger into her. It was a foreign feeling at first, but Orrina grew used to it the more he rocked in and out of her.

"Can I kiss you?" His voice was low, and raspy and Orrina thought it was odd what he was asking until the true meaning of his question hit her. Again she nodded, eyes fluttering closed, the blood red leaves of the tree cushing her head.

She had never felt anything like this before as Jon's tongue circled her sensitive center. Her thighs clenched around his ears, her body moving on it's own accord as she rolled her hips up to him. Orrina bit down hard on her lip, trying to keep from calling out, loud enough for the whole castle to hear them and see what they were doing. It was getting harder and harder to keep quiet, the longer he continued.

In an instant, the world around them exploded, she wasn't able to hold back this time. Her back arched off the floor of the woods, as a feeling she never felt before ripped through her. Her toes curled, her breath caught, and she was seeing stars.

"Jon," Orrina called for him, panting. She was trying to catch her breath, but desperate for him all the same. Her hands shook, but her fingers still fumbled with the ties of his pants. He helped her, discarding his breeches and small clothes, still positioned between her legs.

"Are you sure?" His forehead was pressed against hers, he was breathing heavily as well but his eyes were earnest, and open.

"I love you," Orrina insisted. She couldn't put into words how she felt about him, there weren't enough to get him to stay, but maybe she could show him. Being with him, like this, felt like the most natural progression, it made sense.

Slowly, Jon pressed himself into her, one hand gripping her waist, while the other cupped her face. She had heard it was painful, losing your maidenhead. It was a tight pressure, more discomfort than pain. Jon's eyes were clenched tightly, breathing erratic, as he slowly rocked into her. Soon enough, discomfort gave away to pleasure, filling the deep need she had for him.

She moved her legs around his waist, slowly lifting her hips to meet his, encouraging him to move faster. Jon buried his face against her neck, her name escaping his lips like a prayer. Her fingers raked down his back, never wanting this to end. She wanted to die with Jon Snow between her legs. She never wanted to part from him.

Too soon, Jon had to pull out, spilling his seed on her thigh, leaving her breathless and light headed. Orrina pulled him to her again, their foreheads touching as they came down. Lazily she traced circles over his shoulder blades, his weight against her was comforting. Orrina couldn't say how long they laid like that, naked as babes, sweaty from their love making while the weirwood branches sheltered them.

It felt like forever they laid there, but eventually Jon rolled away from her. His eyes raked over her, dark hair fanned around her, twigs and leaves entwined in the locks. They traveled down until he saw the blood on her thighs, a sign that she was no longer a maid.

And then it was like all the air was sucked out of the Godswood. Jon's eyes were still dark with lust, but now conflicted. "We shouldn't have done that," he sat up, reaching for their discarded clothing. "We aren't married," Jon started, looking anywhere but at her flushed face. "Not when I'm leaving."

Quickly she sat up, tossing her clothes aside as Jon tried to hand them to her, all without looking at her. "No, you can't go!" The moment had died, the drunken haze of their sex quickly wore off. She hadn't come out here with the intention of seducing Jon into staying, but she thought now that they had come together, under the Old God's of all places, that he would see what a mistake he was making.

"I should stay away from you, Orrina. I can't do this to you. To me." Jon quickly dressed, shame etched over his handsome face. "I'm going to leave, to go to the Watch, and you can't move on from me if I keep doing this to you," his words were frantic, and stressed. "I don't want to leave you, but it's the only way."

She pulled on her clothes haphazardly, wiping away the evidence of their union with a stray leaf. "Jon," Orrina started, after she pulled her tunic over her head, reaching for him.

"No, I can't." Jon pulled away roughly, and called for Ghost. Orrina could see in the pain on his face, clear as day. "I'm sorry," he was crying again and so was she. "I love you, but I can't." Once the white direwolf reached his side, Jon took off, crashing through the woods, leaving her alone there, tears streaming down her face.

For the next two weeks, Orrina avoided the rest of the Stark family, and the Royal family. She was determined to try and change Jon's mind. Benjen told her that Ned was allowing him to go, that he was going south to be the King's Hand, and Catelyn didn't want him in Winterfell. He tried to let her down gently, to help her understand why this was the only thing Jon could do.

But Orrina couldn't listen to it. They could have left together, gone to Bear Island and lived in peace. But Jon wouldn't listen to her, he wouldn't even look at her, or speak to her. As much as Orrina was avoiding everyone else, Jon was avoiding her. He no longer went into the training yards in the morning, only practicing when Robb or Theon or any member of the royal host were around. He ate his food quickly and excused himself from the table before she could talk to him over supp. Jon would arrive last for meals, so just he could get the last and furthest seat away from her.

She thought she knew heart ache when her father left her, then again when she was sent away to the Wall, and then left at Winterfell. She thought nothing was worse when he told her that he was joining the Night's Watch, but nothing was worse than him going out of his way to stay away from her. That hurt more than anytime Lord Stark or Lady Stark kept them away from each other. He knew how much it hurt her and he continued.

Lady Stark told her that she was welcome to stay in Winterfell when the rest of the family left. She wouldn't mind her company while her daughters were taken to King's Landing, now that her marriage to Jon was off the table. Politely as she could, Orrina declined. Instead she packed her trunk, which was nearly empty when she arrived at Winterfell, and now was bursting to the brim with new clothing. She cleared her chambers of her belongings and any trace that she had lived there for the last year.

Benjen tried to talk her out of it, tried to convince her to stay or to at least go back home to Bear Island, but she wasn't hearing any of it. If Jon was going to the Wall, then so was she. Her grandfather could choose to try and send her away when she arrived, just as angry and broken as the first time.

Orrina wasn't planning on going anywhere though. She would be there, when Jon realized the Watch wasn't what he built it up to be, when he realized that most of his black brothers were rapists, and criminals. She would be there when he came to see this would be the biggest mistake of his life. She would be there to keep him from saying his vows. He needed to see with his own eyes what he was signing up for, and then they could go home, and be together like they were supposed to be.

Everyone could try to talk her out of it, but Orrina would be there. She would follow Jon Snow to the Wall, and nothing could stop her.

So not much of a wait for this chapter. My muse is high and I've been anxious to get to this part of the story. Plus I didn't want to leave you guys hanging after the last one. I know my decision to still have Jon go to the Watch is controversial but I stand by it because I feel like it's important for his character. And for Orrina's as well.

So I hope you don't hate me and trust where I'm taking these two. It won't be an easy journey, but they will still find happiness along the way. I hope you stick with me!

The scene with Jon and Orrina under the weirwood is one of the first thing I roughly wrote when I was planning this story. I always knew I wanted this scene but wasn't sure how I was going to get there. I really wanted to set the Godswood as somewhere special, and sacred to them leading up to it. It's the first time I've written some smut in a while so don't flame me too hard, haha.

I wasn't sure if I was going to type out Jon and Tyrion's conversation as it happened in the books, but I ultimately decided against it. It feels wrong copying GRRM's exact words, scene for scene. Again, I want to illustrate how young these two are, and how teenagers aren't always the best at processing their emotions and making decisions. For Orrina especially, she thinks the world owes her in a way. She's not a spoiled girl, but she still is an angsty teen.

Next chapter will be the journey North to the Wall. As always please let me know what you think, good or bad. It's what drives and inspires me to write.

Edit: big shout out to one of my guest reviews catching me on grammar errors. I write unbeta'd and am awful editing my own work, I rely heavily on Google docs to do it for me. Thanks for looking out for me :)