She walked with her head down, her nose tucked under the shadow of her hood, watching her steps on the wooden pathway. It was covered with a dusting of snow, disturbed with each footfall. The steward was walking in front of her, leading her behind the armory. Two tall, thick guards, wrapped in heavy black cloaks held their positions in front of the wooden structure, glancing at her hooded figure as she passed. She could feel their eyes on her, curious and questioning. She had hoped to not be seen by many; a stranger's appearance in Castle Black was unwanted and unwelcome. Mayhaps they would think her a new recruit, choosing the cold over the violence in the south. However, Castle Black and the north itself were not much better off, infested with frozen corpses of wildings and iron born alike.
She had done well to keep off the Kingsroad on her journey north, though it meant more days in the snowy wood. Being from the stormlands, she had never felt this kind of cold, this all consuming frozen air that clung to every piece of her being. Eventually, the cold had given away to numbness, and the only warmth she could feel was from the horse trotting beneath her, the friction of her legs against its barrel.
Though she had never been trained in combat or sword fighting, she carried two daggers hidden beneath her skirts, clad in sheaths around her thighs. If a man were to come at her, she knew her only hope was seduction and stealth. Truthfully, it was entirely senseless for her to be traveling north alone. But she had no choice.
The steward held a hand up to her signaling for her to stop. They had reached a modestly sized cabin behind the armory. The steward knocked on the wooden door and waited a moment before opening it and slipping inside.
"A visitor, my lord, for you." He said.
She heard a muffled, deep response from a man beyond the walls of the cabin. The steward looked at her, he was a young, ugly boy. He nodded and stepped out of her way. Her hooded figure swept past the threshold and stopped a few feet beyond the door.
It shut behind her.
She didn't look up.
"An unannounced visitor, for Castle Black, is a rare thing." The Lord Commander had a northern accent with deep, hollow vowels. He waited a moment before he spoke again, "who are you and why have you come?"
It was time to reveal herself.
She raised her gloved hands and gently pulled back her hood. Looking up, she met the cool, dark eyes of Jon Snow. He was clad in a black, dyed leather chest piece and matching thick leather pants. His feet were wrapped in fur boots. A small fire was churning in the hearth behind him, a large desk with books piled top sat to its right. The walls were barren, except for one fogged window. Her eyes darted around for the direwolf but she saw none.
He took a short intake of breath in surprise, "a woman?" He looked her up and down, reassessing her size. "It's a foolish thing for a woman to have come to the wall-"
"I know, my lord," she interrupted, "but I had no choice. I had to come."
Jon Snow furrowed his eyebrows in a moment's confusion. "You were forced? By whom? For what purpose?"
"Not forced, exactly," she readjusted her stance, trying to find her feet, numb in her boots. "I have information. It's too important to have been sent by raven and too dangerous for anyone else to hear. Only you. So I had to come myself."
A frozen moment hung between them as he considered her.
"Did anyone see you?" He asked.
She shook her head, "No one knows a woman is here. I spoke low, and raspy and never showed my face. I only exchanged words with your steward. Though, you may have to explain a hooded man walking about."
"What is your name?" Was all he said.
She inhaled, relieved, "Ahnna. Ahnna Storm."
"Storm?"
"Yes, Jon Snow." She responded, somewhat harshly. He may be a lord commander now, but she hoped he would respect her. She hoped their bastard last names would unite them in some way.
Jon glanced toward the window. "What kind of information?" he asked.
"About your family."
He stiffened, ripping his gaze back to meet her eyes, concern floating in air.
"Arya?" He asked, urgently, "Bran? Sansa? You have news?"
Her stomach dropped, she had not meant for him to misunderstand her in that way. She did not mean to get his hopes up. "No, my lord, I'm sorry, not of them, but of your parents."
His shoulder slumped ever so slightly, his eyes disappointed, yet still interested. He sighed.
"I see." He said. "Of my father? Eddard Stark?"
"Of your mother." Ahnna held her breath. "And your father."
His eyes came alive again. He motioned toward the fire, "come stand by the fire, get warm."
Hesitantly, she took the few short steps toward the hearth, holding her hands in front of her to feel its warmth. Jon was on her left now, only a pace between them.
"Better?" He asked, his words was no longer sharp around the edges.
Ahnna nodded, "Yes, my lord. Thank you." She had pictured this scene over and over in her head, knew the exact words to say, yet she felt herself stumbling to find a place to begin.
"I don't know the best way to explain all this. I think it may shock you." Was the only words she could find. She met his eyes, concerned.
"Honestly, I don't think anything could shock me anymore." He said as he looked into the fire. It crackled in response.
"My mother's name was Wylla." She began. "I was her only child that survived past infancy. I was born in the stormlands, before my mother and I went to Dorne, where she had been born. She became a wet nurse at Starfall after she lost a babe."
Jon just starred at her, patient, listening. She tried to grab her thoughts.
"When I was little, she use to tell me this story. It was my favorite bedtime story, I begged to hear it every night." Ahnna felt a small smile form as she recalled her mother. Heat rising to her cheeks, she starred into the fire. "It was about dragons and wolves and stags and all these wonderful animals. She told me that once, a long time ago, there was a dragon. A lovely, proud dragon whom everyone loved and feared. He fell in love with a wolf." She paused a moment, too embarrassed to take her eyes from the fire. "My mother said it was unacceptable for a dragon and a wolf to love each other, so one day, they ran away together. They were so in love, they couldn't stand to be apart.
"They escaped to a tower in a sea of sand, where no one would find them. The other animals were so furious they started a war. The stags, the lions, the wolves and the dragons all agreed that their love was not right, but one stag most of all."
Ahnna was completely lost in the memory. She was no longer in the cold of the north, but in a warm field watching the animals in their folly.
"So the dragon flew. He met the stag on a field of the brightest green. They fought and the dragon fell. He was slain with the thought of the wolf in his heart, my mother said. And while the dragon died, the wolf gave birth to a lovely little wolf pup."
Ahnna looked up then, meet Jon's gaze. His eyes were curious.
"Mother said the wolf pup was born with ice and fire in his heart. She said he was a wolf pup with wings that could breath fire. I would dream about that wolf pup with wings." She was searching his eyes now, for some glimmer of understanding.
"The wolf mother died, surrounded by blood, with her wolf family around her. I asked her what happened to the wolf pup and she said they took the pup home to their snowy den and disguised him as one of them. She said he grew up a wolf, never knowing about his wings or his fire. Just knowing he was different."
Jon kept starring at her, waiting. Unwilling to let his mind wander to the possibility.
"My mother always told me it was a true story: a true, tragic, love story. But I always knew it couldn't be real. Dragons didn't exist anymore, I told her, and she laughed and said they did."
Ahnna looked down.
"She told me the truth when she was dying in her bed. That the story was true, that it was Rhaegar and Lyanna, and she had been there when the pup had been born and when he was taken away. She held the babe at her breast until the wolves took him north. She was his wet nurse while Lyanna lay dying."
She looked at him again, but he wouldn't raise his eyes. He pressed one gloved hand to the wall, as if to steady himself, and continued examining the fire, an empty gaze.
"Eddard Stark was not your father, Jon Snow." Ahnna's voice was quite and soft, as if she spoke to a child. "He was your uncle."
Silence.
"You are a Stark and a Targaryen. A direwolf and a dragon. A wolf with wings."
Still, silence.
Ahnna held her breath.
Finally, Jon cleared his throat and stood up straight, folding his arms in front of his chest.
"Do you have proof?" He asked.
"The proof lies with the dead." She shook her head. "No one living knows but you and I. But you had to know. I had to tell you. If I died, the truth would have died with it, and I couldn't live with that."
"Well," he began, "thank you, but if we have no proof that this-"
"My mother named me after your mother." Ahnna interjected. "Lyanna, Ahnna. She loved your mother dearly."
Jon closed his eyes.
"I know it's not proof. But it's something... something that still exists that supports the story..."
"Yes," He said as he opened his eyes again, "it's just... shocking, as you said."
Ahnna nodded, understanding.
"I need to walk. I need some air." He reached for his cloak that hung near the hearth. Then he said, as if remembering his manners, "You must be exhausted. Please, sleep. You can stay here until we find some other safe accommodations. No one can know you are here."
She nodded again, glancing toward the open doorframe that must led to the bedchamber.
"Ghost, here." He tapped his open palm against his leg twice.
Ahnna stepped back in surprise as the giant, white direwolf emerged from the bedchamber. He was larger than any animal she had ever seen. He lazily walked toward Jon, shoulder blades rolling with each step, only glancing at her.
Jon put a hand on the beast's head, "I thought it was strange Ghost didn't wake up to greet you, to make sure you weren't a threat." He shook his head, "He just must have known."
Ahnna nodded again, lost for words.
"Thank you, Ahnna." Jon met her eyes, "Thank you for risking your life to bring me this information. I am indebted to you, though I may not entirely believe you yet."
"In time, you will." Was all she could bring herself to say.
"Rest now." He said and turned.
Ahnnah watched as he opened the door and disappeared into the cold, Ghost trotting behind him.
She had finally told the wolf pup of his wings.