No, I did not lie - here is the next chapter, 2 days after the last one ;) ENJOY!

Jon Snow was not a man of books or scrolls. That was the reason why he had been in a sour mood all day. He had been forced to deal with the reality of what it meant to be the Lord of a castle, and had to go through the current ledgers. Sansa was at his side, but she was not in a bad mood at all. She seemed to enjoy this kind of work.

"We should have started rationing ages ago. Nothing grows anymore, and our storage could be fuller," she commented with furrowed brows.

"Well… we cannot turn back time, Sansa. We will have to find other ways," Jon said harshly. She had been telling him for the last hour or so what they should have done. Jon Snow was more a man of what they could do now. His half-sister gave him an annoyed look, but he just shrugged his shoulders. She smiled at him.

"I never noticed how impatient you are," she commented. Jon huffed a little.

"You never seemed to notice me at all," he replied dryly, commenting on their life before their family was so violently torn apart.

"I know. But I do now. And I will support you always," she said, and they shared a smile. Just then, a strange sound filled the study. Jon shot up from his chair, while Sansa froze on the spot. It was unbelievably loud, and it did not sound good. The roaring of a massive beast filled the whole castle. Jon hurried over to the window and looked onto the grounds, but he could see nothing out of the ordinary.

The door to the study was thrown open, and two guards stormed in.

"My Lord, it's a dragon! A real, live dragon!" they panted, and Jon hurried over to follow them outside. Just as they filed into the courtyard, a huge shadow passed above. They craned their necks to see a beast so huge, it installed fear in their hearts. Its scales were a brilliant green, but gold in the lighter places, and its wingspan could probably fit 30 men shoulder to shoulder.

They quickly rushed onto the ramparts by the gatehouse and observed as it landed a few hundred feet away from the North Gate. There was chaos all around them, people not knowing whether they were being attacked or not.

A figure seemed to jump down from the beasts' back, and Jon immediately gave order to close the gate and ready the archers. Sansa joined him just as the figure drew closer.

"Who is it?" one of the guards asked, excitedly craning his neck. They could almost make out the face now.

"It's a bloody woman," came a comment from one of the archers, who had especially keen eyes.

"Do you think it's Daenerys Targaryen?" another asked Jon. He remained silent. Could it be her? Could that be the answer to his strange dream? The woman came ever closer. She did not appear to be armed, and she was walking with confidence towards the castle.

"It's not Daenerys," Sansa suddenly spoke up as the stranger stopped just out of reach of the archers. Everyone in hearing distance turned to look at her. There was shock and surprise on her usually composed face.

"Who is it, then? Sansa, do you know her?" Jon edged her on. His sister swallowed hard while she nodded her head. Her eyes were fixated on the woman in the black cloak with the silver hair.

"That's Samaya Tyrell."

Sam's nerves were on the brink of showing, but she knew she had to look strong. Defiantly, she stared up at the battlements, willing the stern northern faces to see that she was not afraid. After a few tense moments, the archers lowered their weapons, and the gate started opening. She let out a long breath she had not realised she was holding and started walking.

Winterfell was a big castle, but the courtyard was filled to the last inch with people staring at her. Some of them wore looks of amazement, others of hostility. A small group started walking towards her, a man at its helm. His features were as dark as his clothing, but the closer he came, the more fascinated she was. Her mother always told her that you can read people's faces, but Samaya never fully understood what she meant. But now, she knew. There was a whole story that she could see on his features. A story of pain, sadness, but also hope. His eyes were dark, but she could see a lively glint in them, and if he was afraid, he did not show it. Her heart became lighter the more she looked at him, and she could not stop.

He stopped at a respectable distance, and there was complete silence while they stared at each other. Finally, he began to speak.

"Lady Samaya Tyrell, welcome to Winterfell," he said to Sam's utter surprise. How did they know? She took a few moments to process his words, before she answered.

"You must be Jon Snow. I have a message for you. From the Queen," she said and his brows furrowed.

"From which Queen?" he asked her in a sceptical tone. Samaya smiled at him sweetly.

"The one true Queen, Daenerys of House Targaryen."

Only after Sam had been invited inside, and they started guiding her did she notice the familiar face amongst the group that had approached her.

"Sansa, is that you?" she asked in surprise as the girl appeared at her side. She smiled and linked their arms.

"It is good to see you again, Sam. I heard about the trial by combat. We all thought you had died, but it seems you're quite good at deceiving people," the girl answered, nodding at her hair. Sam noticed how much more confident she seemed. She returned the smile with ease.

"Oh, you have no idea. I am afraid it is a very long story," she said as they continued walking.

"And I will be happy to hear it. After you have told us why you are here, of course. It cannot be to deliver a letter only. There are ravens for that," the younger girl said and Sam gave her an appreciative look.

"You have changed. For the better, I think, though only time will tell," she grinned at her. Sansa rolled her eyes.

"That is also a long story," she said and they both chuckled as they entered Winterfell's Great Hall. The guest was asked to leave her weapons, and Sam unearthed the dagger she was carrying beneath her cloak. The guard that took it seemed to admire it for a moment before ensuring her that it would be kept safe.

Sansa left her side and she watched as the girl sat down on a big, wooden table with the rest of the Starks and their advisors. Jon Snow was in the middle, his attention focused on the letter she had delivered. Wordlessly, he handed it to Sansa when he was done.

"Why should we align ourselves with Daenerys?" he asked Sam straight-on.

"Because you have a common enemy, Cersei Lannister. This land has suffered under her tyranny and madness, it is time for someone who is strong and just to lead," Samaya stated.

"And how do we know that your Queen is just that? How do we know she is not mad, like the rest of the Targaryens?" he enquired further.

"If she were mad, she would have sent not one, but three dragons and forced you to bend the knee or burn. Instead, she sent me, and asks for your co-operation," she answered him in a tense tone. He locked eyes with her for a moment, and once again, Samaya felt oddly drawn towards him.

"And what reason do you have to support her? In the past, the Tyrells have openly sided with the Lannisters," he continued, and Sam took a deep breath.

"Cersei Lannister murdered my family. She is not a Queen, but a monster. I will do everything in my power to ensure her downfall," she answered him, her voice hard with grief and anger.

"Lady Samaya, when I first met you, your hair was as black as a moonless night. I have to ask why has it turned silver?" Sansa spoke up to everyone's bewilderment. Jon gave his sister an irritated look.

"That is the other reason why I support Daenerys. I am not a Tyrell, but a bastard Targaryen, and she is my half-sister," Sam answered, and the crowd immediately started whispering amongst themselves. Sansa's eyes had widened in shock, but Jon Snow's face remained impassive as he spoke up again.

"I will need to discuss this with my council. In the meantime, you are welcome to stay as long as you want. If it remains a peaceful stay," he told her and motioned for one of the stewards to show her to the guest house.

"Of course, and thank you for your hospitality. It is most welcome," Samaya said and gave a short nod before following the servant out of the room. That did not exactly go well, but also… it could have been far worse.

Daenerys was in awe of Olenna Tyrell. After she had discussed future plans with her, Ellaria Sand, and the Greyjoys, she had asked the old woman to stay behind for a chat.

"I heard it was you that is responsible for Samaya's existence," she told her after some time talking about Tyrion and Cersei. Olenna gave her a cunning smile.

"Yes, it was my idea. Varys helped, of course. But I was a different woman back then. Power-hungry more than anything. I wanted an alliance with House Targaryen that was sealed in blood, but my son married a Hightower instead. Alerie… she was far cleverer than she first let on, and I could convince her easily in the end," Olenna mused, thinking back with pain etched on her face.

"I am sorry they had to die. Cersei will pay," Daenerys answered, locking eyes with the old woman, who chuckled and looked at her defiantly.

"I have not lost all. Samaya has always been my favourite, even though we do not share the same blood. She is still alive, and if I know anything, is that she will get her revenge. Cersei will suffer for every single Tyrell she's murdered," she said with a knowing look. Daenerys tried to read her face.

"I was thinking of legitimising her when she succeeds in gaining support from the North. What is your opinion on this?" the Queen asked carefully. The older woman looked surprised.

"Well, I certainly did not expect that, but the idea had crossed my mind. Samaya is fiercely loyal, and I do know that she will stand by your side through all the bad and the ugly. Some of your allies might not like the idea..." she said, but was interrupted by Daenerys.

"Ellaria Sand," she cut in. Olenna nodded.

"Yes, that snake of a woman. I know why you need Dorne's support, I just wish it was someone else who did not wish my granddaughter ill. As I was saying, some might not agree, but you are unwed and without an heir. I know you do not want to think about the possibility, but if you legitimise her, at least House Targaryen will continue the fight should anything ever happen to you," Olenna argued. The Queen's brows furrowed.

"Lady Olenna, is this another ploy of yours to get one of your granddaughters on the throne?" she asked bluntly. The matriarch chuckled loudly.

"No, your Grace. I just do not want to see another Lannister on the Iron Throne. Ever."

Samaya had enough. She had waited patiently for some time in the comfortable guest chamber they had assigned her to. Nothing had happened. At first, she was relieved to wash her face and rest on the bed for a little while, but then she got bored. There were no books or anything else to busy herself with, so she decided to take action. She opened the door and peeked into the hallway. Two guards were left and right to her door.

"Milady, you are not supposed to leave your chambers," one of them said immediately at the sight of her.

"Nonsense, I am not a prisoner. I want to visit the Godswood. Accompany me if you must, but I mean no harm, I just want to pay my respects to the Gods," she said defiantly and the two shared a look.

"You worship the Old Gods?" one of them asked.

"I grew up in Highgarden, we have a three weirwood trees there called the Three Sisters. Of course I worship the Old Gods," she answered matter-of-factly. After some moment of contemplation, they gave in.

"I suppose that would be acceptable. Follow me," one of them said and started walking. She smiled at the other and together, they started their march.

Every big castle Samaya had ever visited was alive with colour and chatter. Winterfell in comparison seemed dark and quiet. There were people going about their daily business in the courtyard, but she could rarely see a smile or a glimpse of colour on their clothes. It was all grey, brown and black. A few curious glances were thrown her way, but most of the Northerners pretended not to notice the stranger in their midst. The guards led her on a short walk through the castle grounds, and to a small gate.

"The Godswood's surrounded by high walls on every side. We'll wait here. Take your time, milady," one of them said and Sam smiled and gave her thanks.

As soon as she stepped through the small stone gate, she was engulfed by quiet. The sounds of the castle were replaced by the eerie silence that you could only find in a place of worship. The wood was grand, as far as Sam could see. None of the walls the guard had mentioned were even visible. Instead, there were trees as old as the land. Pines, oaks, ash and the occasional willow were framing a well-trodden path. The girl started following it, breathing in the musky air and savouring every second.

She had missed this so much. There had been a small Godswood in King's Landing, that she had often walked with Sansa, but it was nothing in comparison to this. She was in a place where the Old Gods had been worshipped since the beginning of time. This was their home.

The girl walked for a short period of time before reaching a dark pool in a big clearing. Time seemed to stand still in this place. She gazed at the black water in amazement. It seemed almost forbidden, and as she walked up to the edge and looked at her reflection, a slight shiver ran through her. She loved and feared it at the same time.

After having torn herself away from the pool, she walked over to the only weirwood she could see. Its bloody face was looking as sad as the ones she had previously seen, but the sheer size of it outdid every other one. Sam stood there for a long time, gazing up at the red leaves which were dancing in the breeze. Finally, she sat down at the base of the tree, staring serenely out onto the water.

That's how Jon Snow found her some time later. He had panicked slightly when she was not in her chambers, but quickly found the two guards at the entrance to the Godswood. He was about to scold them, but they said she made a good case in refusing to be treated as a prisoner. Jon realised that she was right. If there was any chance of them working together, he had to trust her. It was just that there was that beast she had arrived with. He hoped she was reasonable enough to not let it harm anyone.

He had quickly walked to the centre of the small forest to find the girl asleep against the trunk of the big weirwood tree. Jon stopped a few inches away from her and observed quietly. Still dressed in her travelling attire, she looked a little out of sorts in the North. With her silver hair and those piercing green eyes, she had captured every man's attention during their meeting. Jon admired how she handled herself with such confidence, but he could see now that she was just a young girl. Her face had relaxed in her current state, and she looked just like any other girl her age.

Jon became a little uncomfortable. Should he wake her? He needed to talk with her, but she seemed so peaceful. The decision was made for him, however. A loud rushing sound gathered his attention and he turned around just in time to see the dragon land on the other side of the pool. It looked straight at him while bending down to drink some of the dark water in the pool. Jon's mouth fell open, and he froze to the spot.

"Impressive, isn't he?" a voice startled him and he realised Samaya had woken up and was now standing next to him. He swallowed and looked back at the dragon.

"I never thought I would see one," he replied after some time. The girl studied his face and smiled.

"Nobody did. But Daenerys managed to bring them back into this world. The blood of old Valyria runs strongly in her veins," she said, and Jon turned fully towards her.

"And in yours, too," he commented quietly, fascinated by her appearance. Everybody knew Targaryens usually had violet eyes, but her green ones were just as unusual. She chuckled lightly.

"Some, maybe. But it is more evident in my sister," she answered him, still looking at the dragon. Jon's gaze was glued to her as she started walking around the pool. He followed her at a distance. As she reached the dragon, it bend down its head so she could touch it. She put her face against the massive beast's skin and closed her eyes. The dragon let out a low growl. Jon could have sworn it sounded like a big, overgrown kitten purring.

The girl stroked its scales gently for a few moments before opening her eyes again and looking at the dragon. She turned around and smiled at Jon.

"You can come closer if you like. He will not hurt you," she said and Jon's brows shot up to his hairline. Was he really brave enough to come close to a dragon? But his feet had a mind of their own, and before he knew it, he had joined her. There seemed to be warmth radiating off the beast, who had its gazed fixed on him. It seemed to sniff at him for a few moments before huffing loudly once.

"I think he likes you," Samaya said, her eyes sparkling in a lively manner. He finally managed to give her a small smile, which froze when he felt the dragon's snout nudging him. Jon had faced wights and worse, but he was very close to pissing himself at that point. It did not help that the girl started laughing loudly at his apparent shock.

"Go on, pet him. He likes to be touched," she tried to encourage him, but Jon stood frozen. She let out a playful sigh and reached for his hand. As soon as their skin touched, Jon felt a curious shiver run through his whole body. It was like he was coming alive. She must have felt it, too, because she stopped in her movement, and her mouth popped open slightly. Their gazes locked, and Jon had to fight the urge to draw her into his arms, and kiss the life out of her. What was happening to him?

They were interrupted when something warm und wet touched their joint hands, and they realised the dragon's tongue had licked them over. Samaya shook her head once, and then finished what she had wanted to do by gently putting Jon's hand on the dragon's snout.

Just as he had expected, warmth greeted him. The same warmth he had craved for so many times at the wall and beyond. Jon closed his eyes and revelled in the feeling. It felt oddly familiar and strange at the same time. He could not help the big smile that decorated his face.

"You look so different when you smile. Much younger," the girl next to him commented and he looked at her. She was studying his features intensely.

"There is not much to smile about here as of late," he answered in a gruff voice. That moment, the dragon carefully retreated from them and they watched as it pushed forcefully off the ground and soared into the air.

"That is why I came to talk to you, actually," Jon Snow continued, his gaze still fixed on the animal.

"There are other enemies besides Cersei Lannister. Ones that pose a bigger threat," he said and finally looked at her. Gone was the cheerful smile and carefree look. She had put on a mask again, albeit a worried one.

"Which enemies?" she asked him quietly.

"The Dead beyond the Wall."

TADAAAAA... finally, a little bit of Snow ;) I really enjoyed writing this, and the mental image of their joint hands, sealed by a dragon's kiss is just a lovely thing that's playing in my mind... I hope you enjoyed it as well, and please leave a review if so! I am seriously so very giddy about every single one of them, thank you so much for taking 2 minutes to send me a line and encourage me :) xx