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The wind was blowing hard that day, and Jon shivered as he stepped outside, feeling the cold breeze caress his bearded cheeks. He was covered in furs, with so many layers of clothing he couldn't bother to count, yet it was still cold, and he could almost hear his father's soft voice ringing in his ear. "
Winter is coming, Jon. These are the Stark words, your words. You must never forget."
Jon sighed. It is coming indeed, he thought. But I am not a Stark. I never was.... and never will be.
He remembered of the offer he was given by the red priestess, on how he could get the one thing he truly wanted to be since he was a child: a name. A true House name. He could have been Jon Stark, Lord of Winterfell, and sit at his father's seat.
But it wasn't right. It didn't feel right- he had been born a bastard, and he had chosen to give up what little he had and devote himself competely to the Night's Watch. He would remain nameless, and as much as he hated it, he knew it was correct answer. Jon would not offend his Father's gods any further. He had done that enough already. Then he became Lord Commander, and everything changed. But it was no time to get lost in trains of thought- he had something to do.
Jon strode towards the stables, where the Queen's Men were starting to mount on top of their horses, preparing for the following mission. They were supposed to escort the Lady Melisandre back to her king, Stannis Baratheon, who was now waiting to ambush the Bastard of Bolton once and for all. Although he bore no love for the man, Jon sent all his prayers to Stannis to succeed in taking Winterfell, so that she would be freed by that monster, and so would his little sister.
Arya.. He shuddered at the thought of her being married off to that horrible bastard, Ramsay Bolton, and he could only hope that nothing had happened to her, but there was a feeling in his gut, and it wasn't pleasant. But there was nothing he could do, only pray in Stannis' success. He felt powerless, but he had already done everything he could.
Jon watched as the small escort prepared to leave, and everything was ready except for one essential person missing. He turned around, only to see a redness coming into view, and for a moment he wasn't sure if it was just a vision, or if he could see properly. She walked towards him, and every step she took was of an unknown grace, her crimson robes flapping madly against the breeze.
"My lady.", Jon breathed, bowing his head slightly in a sign of greeting. There was a nervous hint in his voice, even though he had tried hiding it as best as he could.
He hadn't seen her since that night they had spent together, and he still hadn't known what to make of it. It wasn't love they shared, no, love was something he had lost a long time ago. But she had reawakened something in him, she had made him feel different, in a way he couldn't quite place. Her presence could drive him mad, she was beautiful, very, and he had wanted to stay away from her as much as possible. He didn't trust her, couldn't trust her, wouldn't trust her. But her words, the way she spoke, the looks she gave him.. it all managed to pierce through his heart, and if he said he regretted that night, it would be a lie. That night, she had made him feel like he was indeed that hero she spoke of, the one chosen from her red god, while all his life he had felt like nothing but a bastard, something to be discarded, something of no value at all. Jon didn't know if those were all lies, he still believed in the Old Gods, yet he couldn't help but wonder if her words had a small hint of truth. He wasn't sure what to believe at all, truth be told.
"Lord Snow.", she replied, interrupting his thoughts. "I would like to thank you for your hospitality, it was much appreciated. I must now to return to my king, who has need of me, but I am quite sure we will meet again, some day. Please do not forget all the things that I have told you, I hope I have not misplaced my trust. Farewell, Jon Snow. May the Lord of Light guide your every step."
Melisandre smiled- it was a warm, kind smile, and her red eyes stared into his, as if she could read his every thought, and feel his disquiet. Jon wondered if she would do something, or say something in reference to what had happened between them. But all she did was smile. He felt as if he could melt beneath her gaze, and a flood of memories rushed through his brain, like the touch of her hand on his cheek, the softness of her hair underneath his fingers, her bare skin against his..
"Farewell, Lady Melisandre. Have a safe journey, and bring Stannis my regards." He could only wonder if they would truly see each other again, but he knew this was probably going to be the last time. He watched her as she looked at him a while longer, before turning around and mounting her horse, as the Queen's Men gathered around her.
Jon stood motionless as he watched her leave, several men of the Night's Watch were standing beside him, but no one uttered a single word. He had wished a thousand times for her to leave, and now that he got his wish he felt like there was a hole left inside him, like there were so many questions he needed to ask and only she had the answer. What he felt for the woman, he would never understand. But there was a bitter taste in his mouth as the red of her robes drifted away in the distance, never to be seen again. He could still feel those red eyes watching him, as if they could never truly leave him.
It was late, and Jon was laying on his bed, trying to get some sleep, but it was useless. All he could think of was of her, of Melisandre, her words were in his head, calling him, telling him of how he would save them all, of how she would be by his side, always, helping him. But where was she now? She was gone, off to her king, who wasn't the real Azor Ahai, or she spoke. Yet she still went to him. It left Jon wondering if all her words were just lies, and even though he had always thought that was the case, it saddened him to know for sure.
I am no hero. Just a mere man of the Night's Watch. My destiny is not to save the world, only to stay here in Castle Black and tend to a thousand problems. Nothing is special about me. I wasn't chosen for anything.
He got up, running his hand through his black curls, and started to get dressed. Sleep wasn't option, not tonight. As he headed to his desk, he heard a knock on the door. Jon was surprised, who would ever come to him at this hour of the night? He walked towards the door, instinctively grabbing his blade, Longclaw, alongside with him. He slowly opened, and his jaw almost dropped as he saw who it was, standing before him.
"What.. what are you doing here? I thought..", he said softly, a puzzled look on his face.
"I know what you thought. But I couldn't leave. Stannis is not the one who as need of me most.. it is you."
Melisandre smiled, cupping his cheek with her soft, pale hand. Her touch was fire, and it was a welcoming one. How many times he had felt it, and it still made his stomach turn. He tried speaking, but the words caught in his throat. So he stood speechless, his head lowered, as she was watching him.
"Jon, I have told you this many times, and I will say it again. You are the one true Azor Ahai reborn, and I have to remain at your side, always. Leaving was only a formality, I actually went to Queen Selyse to tell her I had someting of extreme importance to do at Castle Black, and with her approval I could convince also all of her men. It was never in my plan to leave, I would be going against my quest, against the Lord of Light himself, do you really think I would do that?"
She paused, taking her hand away, but Jon grabbed her wrist. "I still don't know if what you say is true, but I do not have need of you. You should go to your king, I am not the hero you are looking for, you are making a mistake."
Melisandre only smiled. "The flames do not lie, Jon Snow. But I have all the time of the world to convince you. I am not going anywhere, not now, not ever." She reached once more for his face, holding it as she softly pressed her lips to his, and Jon returned the kiss without him realizing it. She was captivating, and somehow he felt as if he couldn't move, all he could do was follow her, and it seemed forever until she broke her lips from his.
"That night... you said you would be mine, if i was yours. And that I am, my lord. I am yours, and I will always be." she whispered, slowly running her hand through his hair, as she pulled him into another embrace, and Jon did not let go of her.