The battle was over, but the aftermath weighed heavily on Jon. The group had found a small, abandoned cabin nestled in the woods—a relic of some long-forgotten Wildling clan. The walls were sturdy, the roof intact, and for now, it was enough. The faint glow of a fire danced across the rough wooden walls, casting flickering shadows that made the cabin feel alive.

Katrina lay on the narrow bed in the corner, her face pale and her breathing shallow. She had pushed herself to the brink, and now her body was paying the price. Jon knelt beside her, his dark eyes scanning her face with worry. Her golden eyes, so fierce and alive just hours ago, were now half-lidded and heavy with exhaustion.

"You shouldn't have done that," Jon murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. He dipped a cloth into a bowl of water he'd warmed over the fire, wrung it out, and gently pressed it to her forehead.

Katrina stirred slightly, her lips curving into a faint smirk despite her obvious fatigue. "What… saved all your lives? You're welcome, Snow."

Jon shook his head, a soft chuckle escaping despite himself. "You're impossible."

"And you're predictable," she said, her voice hoarse but teasing. Her hand reached out weakly, brushing against his. "But I'll admit, it's not the worst combination."

Jon caught her hand in his, holding it carefully. Her skin was warm, almost unnaturally so, a lingering remnant of the fire she had unleashed. "You scared me," he admitted, his voice quieter now. "I thought I was going to lose you."

Her smirk faded, replaced by something softer, more vulnerable. "I thought I was going to lose myself," she said, her gaze meeting his. "That shadow… it wanted everything. And for a moment, I thought I might give it."

"But you didn't," Jon said firmly. "You fought it. And you won."

"Because of you," she said, her golden eyes softening. "You kept me grounded."

Jon's heart clenched at her words. He reached up, brushing a strand of dark hair from her face. "You're stronger than you think, Katrina."

"Maybe," she whispered. "But it's easier to be strong when you have someone to fight for."

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The crackling of the fire filled the silence, a steady rhythm that seemed to match the beat of Jon's heart. He leaned closer, his dark eyes searching hers.

"You're not fighting alone," he said, his voice low and steady. "Not anymore."

Katrina's lips parted as if to respond, but instead, she leaned up slightly, her eyes closing as their faces drew closer. Jon hesitated for only a second before closing the distance between them, his lips brushing hers in a kiss that was soft but full of unspoken promises.

Katrina sighed against him, her hand weakly clutching his shirt as if to anchor herself. Jon deepened the kiss for a moment, his hand cradling her cheek, before pulling back just enough to rest his forehead against hers.

"You should rest," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "You need to heal."

Katrina smiled faintly, her eyes fluttering shut. "Only if you promise not to go anywhere."

Jon chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I'll be right here."

He rose, pulling the blanket over her and tucking it snugly around her shoulders. Dream padded up onto the bed, curling beside Katrina and purring softly. Jon sat on the edge of the bed for a moment longer, watching her breathing even out as sleep claimed her.

Satisfied that she was finally at peace, he moved to the chair by the fire, Longclaw resting across his lap. Ghost lay at his feet, ever watchful. The cabin was quiet now, but Jon's mind churned with thoughts of what lay ahead.

For now, though, Katrina was safe. And for Jon, that was enough.

The soft glow of dawn seeped through the cracks in the wooden walls of the cabin, casting warm streaks of light onto the floor. The fire in the hearth had died down to embers, but the chill of the morning was held at bay by the thick, insulated walls. Ghost lay near the door, his head resting on his paws but his eyes alert, while Dream stretched luxuriously on the bed where Katrina still slept.

Jon stood at the hearth, carefully tending to a small pot suspended over the remaining coals. The smell of something hearty and savory wafted through the cabin—stewed grains, dried meat, and a pinch of herbs he'd scavenged during their travels. He stirred the pot slowly, his dark eyes flicking to Katrina every so often to make sure she was still resting.

Katrina stirred, her golden eyes fluttering open. For a moment, confusion crossed her face before she registered her surroundings. Then she saw Jon, his back to her as he worked over the hearth, and a small smile tugged at her lips.

"Are you playing house, Snow?" she teased, her voice still hoarse with sleep.

Jon turned, a faint smirk on his face. "Good morning to you too. I thought you could use something warm."

She sat up slowly, wincing as her muscles protested. "I won't argue with that. What's on the menu?"

"Stew," Jon said, ladling some into a wooden bowl he'd cleaned the night before. He carried it to her, setting it on the small table beside the bed. "It's not much, but it'll help."

Katrina raised an eyebrow as she took the bowl, the steam rising to meet her face. "You're spoiling me. Don't let it go to my head."

Jon sat on the edge of the bed, his dark eyes scanning her face. "You earned it. After what you did yesterday, you need to recover."

Katrina took a cautious bite of the stew, her expression softening. "Not bad, Snow. You've got a future in camp cooking if this whole brooding hero thing doesn't work out."

Jon chuckled quietly. "I'll keep that in mind."

As Katrina ate, Jon fussed over her without even realizing it—adjusting the blanket around her shoulders, pouring her a cup of water, and brushing stray crumbs from the bed. She watched him with a mix of amusement and gratitude, her golden eyes softening.

"You know," she said, setting the bowl down, "you don't have to do all this. I'm not exactly helpless."

"I know," Jon said, meeting her gaze. "But that doesn't mean you shouldn't let someone take care of you once in a while."

Katrina leaned back against the headboard, studying him. "You're a strange one, Snow."

"How so?"

"You're all honor and duty," she said, her smirk returning. "But when it comes down to it, you're soft. Not weak, but… kind. Like you're trying to save the whole damn world."

Jon's expression turned thoughtful. "I'm not trying to save the world. Just the people in front of me."

Katrina's smirk faded, replaced by something warmer. She reached out, her hand brushing against his. "Well, for what it's worth, you're doing a good job."

They sat in companionable silence for a moment, the morning light casting a gentle glow over the cabin. Jon eventually rose, taking the empty bowl from her and setting it aside.

"Stay in bed," he said. "I'll get everything ready for the road."

Katrina rolled her eyes but didn't argue. "You're really leaning into this caretaker role, huh?"

Jon glanced over his shoulder, a rare smile on his face. "Don't get used to it."

She chuckled softly, pulling the blanket tighter around her as she watched him move about the cabin. For the first time in days, she felt a flicker of peace, knowing that—at least for now—she didn't have to face the world alone.