Jon Snow Imagines

Prisoner (Part One)

You stumbled after Ramsay, Rickon's hand clutched in your as best you could with the tight ropes in the way. When Ramsay jumped down from the horse your heart began to pound. The Stark's had always been kind to you, Lady Sansa's most beloved handmaiden and Arya's loyal friend, Jon's betrothed.

You knew that if you could you would risk your life and have Rickon live, the only kindness you could show the Stark house in the position you found yourself in. The twang of a blade being drawn had you flinching and when you glanced at Rickon you found him bracing himself for the worst.

"It will be alright Little Wolf." You tried to comfort him but you both knew your words were untrue, there was nothing alright with being at Ramsay's mercy.

You both jumped when Rickon's restraints were cut and Ramsay pulled him away from you, it was then you let yourself look across the field and your heart sputtered, Jon was within you sights.

It took everything in you to keep your feet still, after fighting so long to get free of everyone who would do you harm it seemed ridiculous to be so close and yet so far to everything that mattered to you.

You didn't hear the things Ramsay said to Rickon but you saw him start to run, the twitch of a hand, and the draw of a bow. Without thinking you lurched towards him, the loosed arrow sailing wide of Rickon and hitting the soft ground.

"You pathetic Whore!" Ramsay spat as he struck you hard enough to knock you off your feet.

Not a thought was spared to the dirt that clung to your body, nor the hot fiery sting that ran through the skin that had been stuck, your sights were set on Rickon reaching Jon, the men parting to take the boy to the back of the cavalry and up over the hill away from the battle.

"You know I most certainly see why you're so fond of her Bastard." Ramsay bellowed to Jon as he pulled you up by your hair. "She's warm and soft in the places that make a hardened man weak at the knees."

Fury contorted Jon's face and his horse paced forwards, the men behind Jon all seemed to move to, anticipating the affect Ramsay's gloating.

"I still can't decide when her moans were best, when I was fucking her or beating her." Ramsay chuckled as Jon snapped, dragging you back through the crowds of men and having someone lift you onto a horse beside him. "I'll tell you what, when your Bastard loses, I'll burry him somewhere near and let you visit him."

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"Take her to one of the rooms." Ramsay hissed, clearly irritated at being forced to retreat into Winterfell.

You were roughly pulled away, the sound of a door locking behind you had you pounding furiously at the door, your pitiful begging drowned out by the splintering of wood in the courtyard. After years of living at Winterfell you found yourself furious for being locked away when you knew the hidden tunnels and twisted turns like the back of your hand.

"Hey you, stop." A shout cried out.

"Rickon get the key!" A familiar voice said.

The door swung open to reveal Sansa and Rickon, you through your arms around her, glad to see her alive before hugging Rickon.

"I am sorry that I left you with him." Sansa insisted.

"You came back... and now we have our home back." You said quietly.

"Jon is outside." Sansa said quickly and you found her gentle hand leading you through the corridors as she had many times before.

When you hurried to the courtyard several Wildlings kept the three of you a safe distance away from where Jon and Ramsay were fighting, the sheer anger that rolled off Jon was enough to make you flinch with each hit he landed.

"Sansa!" You whispered when Jon finally felled Ramsay and began furiously pounding him into the ground.

She stepped forwards, all the action that was needed to draw Jon's attention to her, to where you were stood behind her clutching Rickon to you despite the boy being almost taller than you.

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Jon found you later that evening, the Bolton clothing no longer weighing you down and instead you'd been dressed in Stark finery on the insistence of both Sansa and Rickon. The sound of your bedroom door opening had you spinning round to see who was intruding your space, the fear in your eyes almost broke Jon.

"(Y/N)." Jon sighed and slowly approached you, dropping to his knees as he pulled you into him.

"Jon I know you would try for days and week, years perhaps to fix this... just please don't leave us again." You let the tears you'd hidden from Ramsay and the people of kings landing, even from Sansa, fall down your face and he was quickly on his feet cradling your head in his hands.

"I swear by the old gods and they knew I will never willingly leave you nor will I let you be taken from me without a fight." Jon's promise was sincere and you nodded, collapsing into him and letting that familiar touch of him surround you.