4.

The following night, he found his bed empty. However, he had just finished changing his clothes for the night when he heard a knock on the door. He knew before opening that it was her and he could not help the feeling of relief that rushed through his veins as he actually met her gaze. It was not as if he had thought much about her during the day, but when he did it was with the unexplainable certainty that she would have looked for him again.

"Let me in, Ser Davos" she commanded.

And before he could even utter a word, she slided in through the gap of the open door. When he spoke, she was already near the bed, once again ready to claim a place in it for herself.

"Are you afraid of the night?" he asked, turning in her direction, with the not so subtle intent of mocking her.

When long time before he had led her by the sea following Stannis's order, she had been the one to ask that same question to him and he had aswered quoting her desperate and fanatic babblering about darkness and terrors. He still remembered it so well and he was sure that she would have taken the hint. And she did, indeed. Now sitting on the covers, she was chuckling quite the same way she had chuckled that very night.

Only that this time the chuckle held a shade of sadness and concern.

"We should be. You and I both" she replied.

And then, still with the ghost of that strange chuckle on her lips, she touched the bed. Actually she tapped on it, twice, hinting at him to come and lay beside her.

As if she was the owner of the room and he was the imposing guest.

5.

Melisandre was not afraid of the night, even if it was true that she thought that she should have.

The night was filled with so many more terrors than the ones she had always considered. It was filled with blindness and loneliness and emptyness. She was not afraid, but still she could not say that she liked it. Though her faith had not decreased, she had simply found out down the line that she had not grown used to the darkness as well as she had thought so far.

It was not fear but sadness the feeling that she felt inside her.

It was sadness that curiosly kept her pushing her toward Ser Davos.

It was sadness the motor of her unpredictable actions.

It probably was already the middle of the night when she moved her hand toward his part of the bed, shortly meeting his half naked torso. Slowly, she caressed his skin with her fingers until she placed her whole palm on his chest, having a taste of the warmth she longed for. And the warmth only increased when he suddenly grabbed her wrist to prevent any further movement.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his raspy voice closer than she expected.

She did not replay, instead turned her wrist trying to struggle and when eventually his grip weakened, she let her fingers wander in the dark. First she touched his hand, lingering on his cut fingers and then followed the path up his arm, finally resting on his elbow. She strengthened her touch and pressed his skin, with the aim to let him move his arm. She basically pushed it, until placing it around her waist.

"Hold me" she said, in what sounded as a perfect combination between a beg and an order.

Keeping his arm blocked by her hand, she turned her body, making her back stick to his chest and belly. He instantly froze, all the way too enchanted by her move to notice the new position she was creating. He was embracing her whole body now and had to admit that he didn't dislike at all that new intimacy. He still was quite amazed by how their relationship of pure hate was suddenly turning into something different. Could two nights be enough for a change?

Maybe not, but it was too dark and he was too tired to dwell on such things.

Eventually he relaxed against her and immersed his face into her soft red hair.

6.

When he woke up, it was a new morning without concrete presence. Still, he swore he had felt, at some point in his sleep, her lips pressed against his cheek and, opening his eyes, he found a blanket around him that wasn't there the previous night. He smiled at himself but couldn't help but feel angry at the realization he saw smiling for her. During the day, instead of the previous one, he caught himself thinking about her, loging for the night and fearing it at the same time.

He knew he was playing with fire, or better, fire was playing with him.

He also knew that he could have easily get burntand he didn't like the idea – especially since he didn't holdquite a good memory of the Battle of the Blackwater.

Fear and fire still filled him equally as the night was falling on Winterfell and he was approaching his room. However something stopped him halfway. A voice, her voice, reached his ears from the room of one of the newest guests of the castle. The door was carelessly open and he had to do nothing more but take a look to indulge his curiosity.

The Hound was standing there with a confused look on his face and, at no more than armlenght, there was Melisandre half naked, clearly trying to seduce him for whatever God knew what reason.

Davos stood there just the seconds enough to catch her eyes and, when he finally met her gaze, left as quickly as he could.

He was not hurt, but still could feel the burn.

Whatever happened between them during those nights, she had clearly just threw it all into the fire.

N/A I know there is no reason why the Hound is in the castle, but since it is an AU I'm just taking the liberty of mixing events. Also, I really wanted to add some hints to sansan - which are coming in next chapter.