𝐻𝐸𝑅𝑂𝑖𝑁𝐸 | 𝐽𝑜𝑛 𝑆𝑛𝑜𝑤

fourteen.

             "𝙒𝙚 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙤𝙢 𝙬𝙚 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚"

Pushing through her tent, Ashara released a sigh. They had made it to their camp a few days ago. The past few hours had been spent preparing the soldiers for what's to come. She told them of the plans that Ramsay would have for them if he captured them alive. She told them how he would rip their skin from their bodies, and burn the remaining flesh. Her words were received with worried expressions. She followed on her speech with inspiring words, how the men should fight for their true Lord of Winterfell, and die for him.

Mud squelched underneath Ashara as she walked to the small table placed next to her bed. She saw a steaming bowl of soup, with a cup of ale paired with it. The smell danced its way through Ashara's nose, making her mouth water. She grabbed the bowl with both hands, and lightly threw herself onto her bed to eat.

The soup didn't last long, neither did the ale. It had been a long few days for her. She had spent the time gaining the respect from the men she would carry into battle. She knew many of them wouldn't respect her, but they would once she fought on the field. She would put every ounce of her life on the line to see this army succeed. She may not have known them long, but they already felt like a family to her.

Blowing on the final spoonful of soup, Sansa made herself known in Ashara's tent.

"Lady Sansa, how are you liking the camp?" Ashara asked, rushing to finish her food. It warmed her insides on a night as cold as this.

"It shall do, I don't think Jon plans on staying around here long." She spoke, her mind clearly elsewhere.

"We plan on marching tomorrow morning. However, I'm worried that Jon's tactics are going to get us surrounded. I tried to tell him but I won't go against his words." Ashara spoke her mind to Sansa. They trusted each other, so they confided in each other.

"Jon should listen to you. You were the commander of Ramsays army, you know how he thinks, how he's going to move. Jon should take your advice." She truly seemed worried.

"Its impossible to get through to him. He wont even talk to Davos. Its one-word conversations with him." Ashara vented to Sansa, letting her frustration flow.

As Sansa opened her mouth, one of her handmaidens opened to cloth covering the tent entrance. She let out a sigh of relief.

"Lady Sansa, we've been looking for you. Come, we have a bath ready for you." She spoke, completely ignoring Ashara's presence.

Sansa turned towards Ashara before she stepped out the tent.

"I'll come to see you tomorrow, before you ride." She said, with fear in her eyes.

"Until then, Lady Sansa." Ara nodded her head towards Sansa, which was received with a small smile. Ashara watched Sansa's head disappear between the curtains, leaving her by herself again.

Ara looked around her tent, looking at how bland it was. The muddy floor caused the bottom of the tent to be covered in mud, coating anything that brushed past it. It was cold in the tent, too cold for anyone to sleep. She thought to go and find some furs from somewhere. Gripping her bowl and mug, she made her was outside towards the food tent. The normal men were there, cleaning the dirty bowls and mugs. Ashara placed her utensils on the table, muttering a small thank you when they took them from her hands.

The sound of laughter caught her attention. She was drawn to a group of men, sat around a fire, drinking and having fun. The men don't know what's to come, they don't know if this is their last drink or their last conversation. Ashara smiled to herself, making her way over to the men. She caught their attention when she cleared her throat, making them all rise to their feet with worried expressions on their faces.

"Commander, we we-were just having one last drink." One man bravely spoke up to her, as she held a serious face for a while, but it didn't take long for her to crack.

"Please sit, enjoy yourselves for a while longer. Don't drink too much ale, I need you all sober for the morning." She smiled, taking a sip of the cup she had grabbed from one of the men.

They all smiled at her as conversation struck back up once again. She sat with them for a while, not really talking but watching the flames dance in the fire. Watching them warmed her insides, causing her to forget how fast winter was truly coming.

It reminded her that she left her tent to find some more furs. Downing the cup of ale in her hand, she wandered from the fire, leaving the men to their conversation.

It was dark as she made her way towards Jon's tent. He was the only person she knew would know where to find some more furs. The wind bit at her face as she pulled her cloak around her to shield her from the coldness. It had gotten dark quick, indicating it was almost time to rest up for the night.

Jon's tent was in the centre of the camp. It was much quieter around here compared to the fire she had just come from. There were few men walking around, and if they were, they were walking into tents. She soon came to the entrance of his tent, and she quietly spoke out his name, and was received with a quite come in.

Pushing through the fabric, she was faced with Jon's back, as he hunched over a table. It was hot in his tent, he had a small fire burning in the middle, lighting up the make shift room.

"Lord, I was wondering if you knew where I could find some more furs?" She questioned him as he faced away from her still.

He turned around and made his was to a trunk at the bottom of his bed. His face was pale and he looked tired. She glanced over to his desk to see what he was hunched over. It was the battle plans that they had written up days ago. He was studying them intensely. His face worried Ashara, as it became clear to her how he hadn't taken time to himself.

Jon appeared in front of her, his hands bundled in the fur that he gathered from the trunk. He was tired and drained, but did nothing for himself. Sighing, Ashara took the furs from his hands and placed them on his bed. She grabbed Jon's shoulders and removed his cloak. He looked confused at her actions, but he made no attempt to stop her. She next pushed him onto the bed, and took of his boots, placing them next to the rug on the floor.

"What are you doing?" He finally questioned as she walked over to his desk and grabbed the bowl of food that Jon had failed to notice.

"Taking care of you, as you won't do it yourself." She gave him a look that a mother would give her child. Jon didn't feel like a lord at that moment. He felt small in front of the brave and confident woman in front of him. He knew he felt things for her, but those feelings would have to wait to be acted upon. There was a battle to be won.

As she picked up the furs from the bed, she felt Jon's hand wrap around her wrist. Looking at him, she was met with tired eyes.

"Stay."

Ashara didn't need to be told twice. She also cared deeply for this vulnerable man in front of her. Removing her boots and cloak, she sat on the bed with him, both sat against the headboard. She was in her own thoughts for a while, when she felt Jon's head slump onto her lap, his eyes closed and light snores escaping his mouth. She automatically found her fingers wriggling their way into Jon's head, playing with his hair and massaging his scalp.

Ashara could stay like this forever, but life isn't fair in that way