Chapter Two.

Despite his exhaustion, the raven-haired king was one of the first to awaken the next morning, along with his equally exhausted looking sister and his enemy-turned-friend Tormund Giantsbane. Jon told them about the encounter he had the night before, with his two soldiers and the unknown woman. While Giantsbane was curious to know more about this mysterious lady, Sansa warned him of the possible danger this woman might bring.

''If she truly was one of Ramsay's… ladies'', Sansa spoke softly. ''Her alliances might lie with House Bolton, still''.

''An alliance to an extinct House!'', Giantsbane sneered, shaking his head in amusement. ''See how that turns out''.

''She might be dangerous, Jon'', Sansa warned him, ignoring the wildling's mockery.

Jon nodded and smiled reassuringly as he squeezed her shoulder. ''I'll be careful'', he promised, after which he made his way over the courtyard, swiftly greeting Brienne and Podrick. He'd given Brienne - among others - the responsibility of training the men and women for their upcoming fight against the Night King. He trusted Brienne, and she was a fierce warrior, undoubtedly.

Like the night had promised, it was an exceptionally cold day. The sky was clouded and grey, shielding the sun from their frozen skin, and snowflakes slowly danced from it, covering their capes and hair in a thin layer of white. Jon had nightmares, often, of the Night King and his army of the dead approaching the wall, and every time he woke up afterwards, bathing in his sweat, he felt an unmeasurable feeling of responsibility crushing his chest. He still wondered if he was fit to be King, and wished even more often he had the council of his father or brother to guide him through. He knew his men, his sister and his allies believed in him wholeheartedly, but instead of relieving Jon from that crushing weight each early morning, it only seemed to make it weigh heavier. The thought of letting them down was something Jon did not know how to handle.

After being directed to the mystery woman's chamber by Sansa's handmaiden, Jon knocked on the door softly, not wanting to wake her up if she was still asleep. There was no answer, so he softly opened the wooden door and walked in, immediately greeted by the warm embrace of dancing flames.

She stood by the fireplace, her back turned towards him, and her long red hair braided over her shoulder. Jon thought the dress she was wearing was new, but he couldn't quite tell. His eyes wandered from her back to the untouched plate of oatmeal on her nightstand.

''Aren't you hungry?'', he asked, not quite knowing what to say.

''The heat is escaping, your grace'', was the answer.

Jon responded by closing the door behind him.

''Will you tell me what your name is?''.

She stayed quiet for a few seconds, ignoring his gaze, as she watched the flames dance and lick on the wood. Her answer confused Jon more than he already was. ''I go by many names'', she said. ''I'll be whoever you want me to be''.

As she turned towards him, he noticed that she had another scar, on the left side of her upper lip. It was thin and barely noticeable, but it was there, and Jon couldn't help but believe it was Ramsay Bolton's doing, which was a suspicion quickly confirmed.

''Ramsay loved to call me Sansa'', she whispered, and a frown appeared between Jon's brows. ''I know that's your sister''.

The young king couldn't help but feel disgusted when he understood what Ramsay'd done, but he was by no means surprised. Ramsay Bolton was a sadistic individual.

''When she left'', the woman continued. ''I was all he had left to torment''. Her voice seemed to shake, and he saw a combination of pain, anger and fear in her eyes that he'd seen the night before, when she looked at him. He wondered if she thought he was like him, if she thought of him as a sadistic man, too.

''I'm not like Ramsay''. Jon's voice sounded dark when he answered. ''I'm not here for that. I'm not here to hurt you''.

''Then what?'', she asked angrily, clenching her jaws together. ''What do you want, King in the North?''. She spit the words like they were poison in her mouth, and though the fear and pain had left her eyes, the anger lingered and seemed only worse.

''If you want to leave, I won't stop you. I'll give you one of the horses. You're free to go''.

Immediately, the anger in the woman's eyes faded, her jaws unclenched and all of a sudden she looked small and fragile. ''I can't'', she whispered.

Jon simply frowned.

''I have nowhere to go''.

He couldn't help but feel sorry for her when he saw the sudden sadness gleaming in her silver eyes.

''Then you're welcome to stay'', the king told her. She didn't smile, but she didn't protest. She stood there, her hands folded together in front of her, not quite sure what to do with this revelation. Jon decided not to burden her any further and walked towards the door. As he opened it and stood with his back towards her, a few last words slipped from her lips.

''It's Arden. My name''.

''Like the Forest of Arden'', was Jon's remark.

And she – Arden, smiled for the first time. A genuine smile, Jon wasn't sure - but she smiled. He returned the sign of goodwill and walked out the chamber, back into the freezing cold of winter.

Just seconds after his eyes met Sansa's, who was standing a few feet across, halfway past the wooden stairs. Jon walked towards her, and he could tell she was suspicious of the situation. The distrust lay clear in her eyes.

''I don't know… where she's from'', Jon spoke, before she could even open her mouth. ''But I trust she's no threat to us''.

Sansa looked at her brother with the same gaze she looked at Ramsay when they met on the battlefield, and Jon softly took her hands in his.

''She's suffered under Ramsay, like you''.

His sister turned her head sideways, towards Arden's chamber, and then back to her brother, but she had no chance to answer. Their conversation was interrupted by sir Davos Seaworth, who hastily came walking towards them.

''A raven has arrived'', sir Davos spoke as he handed over a small scroll of parchment to Jon. ''From the Citadel, Oldtown''.

Jon exchanged glances with Sansa before he broke the seal on the parchment and unrolled the scroll. As he read the written words, a sense of new hope entered his heart, but along with it came more weight on his chest.

''It's from Sam'', Jon spoke as he looked up to his two companions. ''He knows of a reservoir of dragonglass, hidden away at Dragonstone''.

Two sets of eyebrows raised into the air, and for a second, Jon Snow's normally serious expression slipped, revealing a hopeful smile underneath.