I've had this story stuck in my head for a while now and I've been dying to get it out there. I know I probably shouldn't start a new story while I'm writing another Game of Thrones one, but I couldn't help it. I hope everyone likes the first chapter. Don't forget to drop a review and let me know what you think!

Miranda kept her dark eyes peeled forward, watching everything as it passed her by but never truly seeing any of it. She watched the faces of the men she was traveling with, her eyes observing their lips moving as they talked to her, as they talked to each other. But if they were speaking with any sound she had never heard a word of it. A cold breeze blew past her, caressing her skin gently, but she was numb to the feeling. The only indication of the breeze were the loose strands of hair blowing against her soft features as it was gathered up by the wind.

They had been riding for the better of a month now, stopping only when their horses were too exhausted to move forward. They stayed wherever they were when their horses refused to carry on, whether it was the hard, unforgiving ground or an inn in a passing town. No amount of beating the beasts had moved them. When their hooves planted into the ground not even the Gods themselves could move the stubborn beasts.

Miranda couldn't feel much of anything anymore but one thing she did continue to feel was pain. Her thighs ached with every step of her horse, burning dangerously and constantly reminding her that she was alive. The palms of her hands were raw and every time she moved her fingers she was reminded of just how badly beaten they had become. If she lived beyond this never ending ride, Miranda was sure her hands were going to permanently remain in the closed fists of being wrapped around reigns.

"We're almost there, my Lady." The head of her father's guards assured her. Raymond had been with her father's guard all her life and was one of the few faces that had always given Miranda comfort. But not anymore. She wasn't an innocent little girl playing hide and seek with him in the gardens. Those days were gone from her grasp forever. Whatever grasp she had left.

"She isn't a Lady anymore." Another man of her father's guard reminded him gruffly. "You'll do best to remember that. As will you, Miranda."

If she heard Kevin's words she made no acknowledgement of it. She simply kept her eyes forward, watching the beautiful wilderness that the land had to offer as it passed her by.

How many more times in her life would she see trees standing as tall as castles? Where she was going, she had no doubt that these would be the last of their kind.

Enjoy them now, she thought bitterly. Enjoy every little bit of honour you still have left as your ride for the final time with your father's guard.

She silenced the voice in the back of her mind and urged herself forward. Maybe her Lord father was right. Maybe this was what she needed. If she obeyed him and did as he commanded of her maybe she could find a way to move on and be everything he had wished of his only child.

She could hear the birds chirping happily in the tree branches above her, singing glorious songs that only their own kind could understand. Her ears were straining to listen so closely she was sure that she could hear them hopping happily from branch to branch as they continued to sing to one another. Her head tilted back to watch them through the opening of the leaves, the sun blinding her as she tried to spot the small innocent creatures above.

Once upon a time she used to sing much like they did. She used to have a smile spread across her lips constantly. It was a rare feat to see her without one. But now she was sure her lips would never curve upwards again. Not after all she'd lost.

The air around her was beginning to get colder and more brisk as they continued their journey. With a shaky hand, Miranda reached up and grabbed a steady hold of the animal skin she had resting over her shoulders. She tugged it closer to her neck, wishing she had brought thicker pelts with her. She knew how cold it was going to be at her destination but up until now she was sure that she had brought enough to keep her warm.

When the cold air blew past her again she realized that she hadn't come as prepared as she should have. Raymond must have seen her body shake violently from the cold because he spoke up quickly.

"Don't worry, my Lady. We shall be there shortly. I'm sure we will arrive before sundown." Raymond assured her warmly. He had brought his horse to a steady trot alongside hers, his eyes watching her carefully as she shook beside him.

She nodded her head softly in response. She had tried to open her mouth to speak to him, as she used to during countless sleepless nights in her kingdom, but the cold had quickly snapped it shut. If tears were threatening to fall from her eyes on her final ride she had no doubt they would quickly freeze and clamp her eyes shut.

Maybe that wouldn't be the worst thing, she thought grimly. Maybe it will make my stay there more bearable.

She shut her eyes tightly in defeat and swallowed back the lump swelling in her throat. She still couldn't believe this was happening. Her and her father had never truly seen eye to eye, but never in her life would she have thought he would have sent her away. Not like this and most certainly not after all she had been through.

Keep your head up and stay strong. You are my daughter and I will not tolerate anything less from you. She could practically hear her father's stern words circling over and over again in her mind as her horse continued to stride forward effortlessly.

Miranda kept herself consumed with her thoughts for the remainder of her journey. Soon enough she couldn't even feel the cold air as it whisked by her. When the men riding in front of her came to a sudden stop, her horse obeyed and quickly forced Miranda away from her thoughts.

"We're here, my lady." Raymond told her.

Miranda blinked several times, her thick lashes batting away the snowflakes as they ravaged her face. She tilted her head back so her eyes could gaze upon the top of the magnificent structure. A breathless sigh slipped through her lips as she watched the snow gather at the top, a sight that was so beautiful and so peaceful she was almost sure it was a dream.

The sound of approaching hoofs brought her eyes forward again as she watched an older man approach her and her father's guard. The men in front of her moved their horses, parting the way for the man as he pulled his horse to a stop before Miranda.

"Lady Miranda, we've been expecting you." The man said, bowing his head in respect.

Her horse shifted its weight as she nodded in response. She knew it was improper of her to greet her host with silence, but she couldn't get the words to escape her throat. Whatever part of her body hadn't been frozen stiff was consumed with an overwhelming sense of fear from the realization that she was finally here.

"Are you the Lord Commander?" Raymond asked gruffly, eyeing the man carefully.

"I am Lord Commander Mormont," The older man said nodding. His eyes were watching Miranda carefully, as if trying to size her up. She shifted uncomfortably in her saddle, the attention from the man making her stomach flutter nervously.

"You've received my Lord's ravens, I'm sure."

"I have. I've assured your Lord that Lady Miranda will be taken care of and given the structure that she needs."

Miranda felt her stomach turn. They were talking about her as though she were a child who was being punished for doing something foolish, as though she weren't there listening to every word being spoken. She felt anger rise inside of her, the sudden heat warming her frozen features.

"Come, my lady. We've much to do to prepare you for your stay at the Wall. We're to break our fast soon and would be honoured to have you join us."

Miranda smiled meekly as she watched Mormont turn his horse, making his way back to the Wall. She gripped the reigns tightly in her hands and gently kicked her horse forward.

"My Lady."

Miranda stopped her horse and glanced over her shoulder, her head tilting back as Raymond approached her. From the corner of her eye she could see the rest of her father's guard lead their horses away from her, none of them bothering to say their goodbyes to a girl they had been sworn to protect from the moment she was born.

"It pains me greatly to see you leave, but this is what your lord father wished. I vow to you that we will come back and bring you home the moment your father commands it. Until then, keep to yourself and mind your business. The men who live beyond this wall are unlike any you've encountered before. They're brutes and thieves and rapists. Don't let your guard down. I'll be back for you as soon as your father sees it fit." He brought up a heavy hand and resting it against her shoulder, his gloved hands gently rubbing the pelt covering her skin and shielding her from the cold.

She gave him a quick nod of her head and urged her horse forward again, not daring to say a single word to the man she had considered her father more than her own. She knew full well that if she opened her mouth she would do nothing but beg him not to leave her there.

…I will not tolerate anything less from you.

With her father's harsh words swimming through her mind, Miranda turned her back on her father's guard and left her world beyond the Wall.

Jon Snow sat at the table, his hand pushing the food on his plate back and forth, back and forth. He heard the other men at the table talking amongst themselves, catching a word here and there, but his mind was elsewhere.

The sad truth was that he was homesick. He missed waking up in the morning, rushing outside into the training yard and sparring with his brother until they were both exhausted and covered in sweat. He missed rubbing Arya's messy hair as he teased her lovingly. He missed the way she would look up at him with that wide goofy grin spread across her face. Believe it or not, at times he even found himself missing Lady Stark and the deathly stares she would send his way.

He missed it all because it reminded him of home. It reminded him of Winterfell. Looking back now, he felt as though he had taken advantage of everything he had been given. He had never given much thought to how much he would miss it all once he had left it all behind. He had been in such a haste to escape it that he hadn't realized just how badly he would miss it once it was gone from reach forever.

Even if he did go back to visit, that would no doubt be years down the road. You had to earn your superior's trust to take leave to visit loved ones. And sometimes he feared that would take longer than he would have desired.

Would he be welcomed if he visited Winterfell years from now? Would his half brother Robb have found a wife and already have children? Would Lady Stark still glare at him silently whenever he was in her presence? Would there still be room for the bastard in Winterfell if he were to ever return or had he already been forgotten?

When he thought of his family and of Winterfell, there were times when he doubted the decision that would forever change his life. It was in those moments that he had to remind himself that he didn't belong in Winterfell and that he never did. He was to take his vows soon and he tried to assure himself that this was where he was destined to live out the rest of his days.

He would never be the lord of Winterfell. That honour belonged to his beloved brother, Robb. And the sad truth was, Jon wouldn't have had it any other way. Jon groaned to himself and dropped his fork into his plate, a heavy sigh slipping through his lips.

Sam watched his friend from the corner of his eye but said nothing. He continued to chew his food, watching him carefully as he tried to read the emotions on his face.

"Did you see the girl in the yard earlier? I hear she's a lady, a noble born." Grenn said to no one in particular.

Sam laughed in disbelief, "No she's not. Why would a woman of noble birth come to the Wall? Why would any woman come to the Wall?"

Jon's eyes rose to watch the faces of the men he would soon consider his brothers. That's right; he thought silently, there was a woman in the yard earlier.

How had he forgotten? He had stared in awe just as his brothers had. It hadn't been very long since he had last seen a woman, but it was still a sight to be seen nonetheless. A woman at the Wall was unheard of and as far as he knew had never happened before.

He could tell by the way she walked, by the straightness of her back and by her extravagant clothes that she was of noble birth. Which just made it all the more strange. A part of him had actually felt bad for her when he first saw her. Had she any idea of what she was in store for, being surrounded by men who were hungry for a woman's touch?

A shiver ran down his spine at the thought of it. May the Gods have mercy on her.

"Speak of the devil…" Grenn muttered under his breath.

All of the men at the table turned to look to where Grenn's eyes were focused, even Jon himself.

She walked alongside Lord Mormont, her hands clasped together in her lap as she kept her eyes downward, as if intimidated. Truth be told, she had every right to be intimidated, though she shouldn't have felt so with Lord Mormont walking beside her. If men saw her walking with their commander, no one would dare to lay so much as a finger on her. Or so Jon had hoped.

She took a seat at the head table, along with Lord Mormont. She smiled kindly when food was brought to the table and set in front of her, though the bastard could see that the smile had been forced. Jon watched her curiously as she eyed it but made no attempt to pick up the utensils that had been placed one either side of the plate. He didn't blame her. The food at the Wall was tasteless, though they tried to make it anything but. He knew that it would be the same to her, especially if she was used to much finer, richer foods.

Lord Mormont leaned towards her, speaking words that were too low for any of the other men in the room to hear. Another smile curved at her lips as she bowed ever so slightly.

"I wonder what she's doing here." Sam muttered to himself.

"You don't suppose she's here to serve us…do you?"

Jon shot Grenn a stern look. "The vows that we're to take clearly state that we're not to take a wife or father sons. Why would she be here to pleasure us?"

Grenn shrugged it off. "Because it will make me feel better when I lay my head down at night in a cold, empty bed?"

Jon kept his eyes focused over Grenn's shoulder, studying the girl carefully. He noticed that she didn't raise her eyes to meet the gazes of the men in the room, all of whom had been watching her from the moment she walked into the dining hall.

"You haven't touched your food, my lady. Does it not please you?" Lord Mormont asked, chewing the food in his mouth as he watched her. He already knew the answer but thought he would ask the question regardless.

She opened her mouth to speak but her nerves refused to release any words from her dry lips. She merely kept her eyes peeled to her plate, her hands tightly clenched together in her palms.

Lord Mormont chuckled, swallowing the mush in his mouth. "I haven't heard you speak a word since you've arrived. Should I assume that you cannot speak?"

Finally, Miranda found an ounce of strength and spoke for the first time since she left her kingdom. "I can speak, my Lord."

Mormont couldn't help but chuckle under his breath, gathering more food with his fork. "I'm not a lord, my lady. It is I who should address you by your title, not the other way around."

"I have no title any longer, Lord Mormont." My lord father told me so before he banished me from my own kingdom.

Mormont nodded sadly, filling his mouth with another forkful of his supper. He glanced up from his table, his eyes finally noticing the men that filled the room. They were all staring, staring at her, and whispering to one another. He felt his features go flush with anger as he swallowed the food in his mouth.

Abruptly, he stood up from his seat, letting his fork fall into his place. "Is there something that's more interesting you see at my table than the food in front of you?" The room fell silent and Miranda jumped at the sharpness of his voice as it boomed through the room.

She felt as though she could throw up right there despite the fact that her stomach had nothing to give. She had felt their eyes on her, she was well aware that they had been watching her; studying her from the moment she had entered to break her fast with them. She had prayed to the Gods that it was merely a figment of her imagination, that she was overreacting and that they had no care of her presence. Lord Mormont was quick to remind her that that was in fact not true.

"Who is she?" One of the men asked from the crowd.

Mormont's eyes scanned over his men carefully, noticing all too well the look that lurked within most of their eyes. "She is a guest of our castle, a guest to the Wall. She is Lady Miranda from the kingdom of Narem and she is here to observe us and all we do. We need men, we need weapons, and her lord father has promised to provide us with such depending on what she sees. So you'd best make her feel welcome and stop staring. Let the lady enjoy her first meal at the Wall."

The chatter amongst the men began soon after Mormont took his seat beside Miranda again. He picked up his food and went back to his supper.

Miranda stirred uncomfortably beside him, suddenly wishing she had just gone to her room instead of agreeing to break her fast with the men of the Wall. "Lord Mormont, my lord father-"

"Isn't going to give us what we require. I know."

"Then why did you-"

"Because they don't need to know why you were truly sent here," he said firmly, shoving another mouthful of food into his mouth.

Miranda nodded, her heart sinking further and further into her chest. "May I be excused, lord commander? I'm afraid I have no appetite tonight."

"I will excuse you if you call me lord no longer. These men may not call me Mormont, but I would be pleased if you would, my lady."

"I will if you no longer call me 'lady'. Miranda will do just fine."

"So be it." Mormont glanced up and looked through the crowd of familiar faces. He required someone to escort Miranda to her chambers; someone he knew wouldn't dare to lay a finger on her. His eyes quickly found Jon Snow as he watched his brothers in silence. Mormont ushered the noble bastard to his table, and hesitantly Jon rose and made his way across the hall.

"Lord Commander," Jon said, as he came to a stop at the table.

"Bring Miranda to the bedchamber across from mine and rejoin us for supper." Mormont said no more but Jon read the underline of his words. Bring her to her bedchamber and come right back here. Don't touch her and don't speak to her more than you have to.

"Yes, Lord Commander."

Miranda thanked Mormont in a quiet voice, so quiet that Jon himself had strained to hear it. She rose from her seat and walked around the table, joining Jon on the other side. Once again, she kept her head low as she walked by the tables, ignoring the stares and comments from the men she passed.

Almost there. She told herself. Just a little bit further and you'll be in your chamber alone.

Jon walked Miranda to her room, not daring to say a word to her. He had a dozen questions to ask her but decided it would be best if he kept them all to himself. She had looked incredibly uncomfortable in the dinning hall and he was scared questioning her would only make it worse. So he did as he was bid and brought her to her room.

"These are your chambers, my lady." Jon told her as he came to a stop at the door.

Miranda watched him carefully, smiling slightly. "Thank you…I'm sorry, I don't know what to call you."

"My name's Jon Snow, my lady."

Miranda hesitated for a moment. Jon Snow…why did she know that name? She forced another smile and reached for the door. "Thank you, Jon Snow." She said simply before disappearing on the other side.

Miranda stood in her room for a moment, leaning her back against the aged wood as she tried to remember why his name had sounded so familiar to her. The more she thought about it, the more she realized his features had looked familiar. She was sure that she had gazed upon his young face before. Those dark curls, those clear blue eyes, she had seen it all before.

Pushing it to the back of her mind, Miranda crossed the room and found herself staring out the closed window, gazing at the vast nothingness the Wall had to offer.