As he finished dressing his wounds, a knock was heard on the door. Grenn's familiar face appeared as Jon gave leave to enter. "Don't mean to disturb you my lord, but a rider's come up from the south."

"From the south?"

"Yes, my lord. Hard riding by the look of his horse. Course his owner's not fairing much better, he's a lean fellow. He's without as we speak."

"Send him in. Have Hobb prepare a meal for our guest and see that his horse is tended to."

"Yes my lord," Grenn said as he turned to leave. The freezing air found Jon pondering on past events as Grenn opened the door for their mysterious rider.

Grenn was right, the man had little in the way of stature. He seemed much like a small tree that had seen but a season or two. Yet when Jon looked into his dark green eyes, he knew this was a man men listened to.

The wind fell silent as Green shut the door.

"You worked your horse hard to get here so I'll spare you the pleasantries," Jon said. "What brings this far north? The cold winds grow stronger by the day and men of the south don't take too kindly to the Wall, even in summer."

The man did not answer. His eyes were wondering, he seemed to be studying Jon. He's looking at my scars, Jon thought.

"We'll have your horse tended to in the stables and you can st-"

"Think I'm a southron lordling do you?" His voice was stern, yet it had an amiable quality to it.

"No, I suppose not," Jon said.

"I've been south of the Neck but a few times. Never found much joy in my visits."

"I see. Who sent you here? There was a time when I would trust any man from the North, but the colder it gets, the harder it becomes to tell an honorable man from a false one."

"Hmm, honorable men. There were never many of them; always a rare breed. Your uncle was one of few." There was a sadness in his voice, he seemed quieter.

"My uncle? You knew Benjen well?" Jon said.

The small man fell quiet.

"You should know he's been missing for some time now."

"Did he ever tell you about me? I saved his life you know."

"He spoke fondly of a man named Yoren once, but you are no black brother."

A smile appeared on the short man's face as made his way toward the hearth. He took a seat in front of the fire. "Come sit with me, Jon," he said, staring into the flames. "I have much and more to tell you about who I am."

Jon sat next to him, warming himself by the fire.

"And who you are..."

^{Don't drink and write fan fiction guys.}