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rise-my-angel · 8 months

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Heart of the Great Wolf

19 - Trust in the Gentle Rasps

Pairing: Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader, Robb Stark x F!Baratheon!Reader (Past)

Length: 14.5k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, discussions of warfare, suicidal ideation, grief and trauma, jealousy, posessive tendencies, male sexual assault victim discussion, smut, oral (f receiving), slight canon divergence

Notes: This was one of my favorite chapters to write by far, so hope you enjoy! Previous Chapter Here, Series Masterlist Here.

Your quiet was palpable since nearing the water. Travelling west along the runs of the Wall had been easy, but it also meant that none of it felt quite real until now. Much like the last time it seemed, once arriving the body of water needing to cross, you could no longer deny what you were walking into. As soon as the men had crossed the bridge over the Trident it was blood which followed for years until you lay in your own. But whereas then your quiet was the uncertainty of what was to come, this time your quiet was the shadowing memories of what was lost.

Bringing death and loss to the doorsteps of those who experienced it beside you last time, only now the plea was desperate and you were not the person any would remember. Asking them to make the same choice that ended in a massacre only so that they could hope to stand and fight against one even darker upon the horizon. Camp was being made some distance from the shore as you hovered back.

The footsteps which approached you belonging to one of the only people brave enough to approach you when poised with such tense rigidness and sharp cold in your eyes as you looked over things. “I didn’t imagine you were one to stand back and watch others take over for you.” Nothing but curiosity in Ser Davos’s voice as you both stood side by side now. You didn’t respond but he took no offence. “Not from what I saw in you that day, either. You’re a more confident leader then this, your grace.”

Fingers clenching in your crossed arms before inhaling deeply. “I am not the one they chose to follow. If I had to do this alone, I would have. But not a single one of these men would be here if he wasn’t.” Your eyes sharp as they followed Jon across the way.

You were more distant with him then ever.

“He is only here because of you.”

A waver in your breath, you finally glanced away from the distant figure to look at Ser Davos. Slightly shaking your head as you tried to stand as calm and unaffected as you could manage. “He’s here because the North is his home, and he’s fighting to protect it. Doesn’t need me for that. The North never has.”

You didn’t want to see the understanding sympathy in Davos’s eyes, you knew it wasn’t just one you were talking of. You failed to see yourself as anything worthy in either of their lives and only the remaining wonder if you had not been there, would they have avoided death? Was your presence this time an omen that blood would follow once more for such a leader? You were too involved in a life he had been forging without you.

Leaning down more towards your side, his own voice lowered to match your tone. “You wouldn’t know that if you keep avoiding him, now would you?” Turning away as your eyes peeled from him in a glare to out back to the settling camp of free folk your jaw clenched harshly. “I’m not trying to involve myself in your affairs, your grace, but I do know he’s as tense as you are. And two tense leaders who refuse to speak to each other isn’t what I’d call good for morale.”

It would be so much easier if you didn’t feel as if your lives were constantly trying to circle around each others like magnetic pulls wishing to attach. Would be easier if you just could detach from whatever this all was and do what needs to be done and forget the rest. But you didn’t have nearly enough of your father in you for that.

“I wasn’t the one who acted as their peacekeeper, not sure these men really would care about what I add to their spirits or not. Seem to be doing just fine.” Truly you were grateful but you could slink into the waters ahead and never return, and the cause and leader they followed would stay the same.

Good thing about Davos, he knew well enough when to not push one or the other. Unfortunate for you, there was very little he could broach that wasn’t going to give you a headache further. “Surprised me that you allowed your mother to come along.”

“So was she.” You gave her little room to argue or question, but you knew leaving her alone either at Castle Black or worse, sending her home unprotected at Dragonstone was only with grim prospects. “If all she has left is me, then it does not matter what issues lay between us. She would have no one left, and that...mother’s need something, someone left to live for no matter how strained.”

Your instructions were clear, she is not to involve herself in this war or planning in anyway, and she is to keep thoughts of this religion of hers to herself. The last thing this cause needed was more whispers of unnatural abilities or other world like purposes. “She’s not good at saying it, but she’s grateful you care. Though most of your family isn’t good at saying what they mean, are you?”

It barley caught the hint of even the halfest of smirks. More of a tiny glint in your eye that faded as quickly as it sparked as he continued. “Never seen this many wildlings in once place.”

“I think they prefer the term, free folk.”

Right back to the start he was correcting himself. “Never seen this many free folk in once place.”

“If I’m not mistaken, Ser Davos neither you or I have ever seen any free folk until meeting them, period.” Technically you had met one but hardly for long. Bran had told Sam that Osha took Rickon alone to saftey when he went beyond the wall with Howland Reed’s children. You had no reason not to trust her, you just hoped she could keep him safe in the same overwhelming dread of two teenagers, Hodor, and Summer all there was to keep Bran safe beyond the wall. Not noting your wondering mind, Davos chuckled beside you, and you wished you could as well. “I just hope they understand what they’re truly getting involved in.”

You heard the man before you saw him, a rumbling laugh before he was brave enough to slap an arm around your shoulder as the simple force jostled you. “You doubting us already, pretty crow?” Never did quite get used to how large Tormund stood beside you, like a cliff that was pained orange only with much more vulgar echoes.

Flickering your eyes to the side, you didn’t move much more but there was at least more of a hint of amusement then before. “No. I simply understand it’s a strange fight you’ve decided to involve yourselves in, after everything that’s happened I mean.”

Shrugging to himself, he looked back to the camp and pulled you in closer. Giving Ser Davos a slight bit of whiplash as to how used to being yanked around by such a large figure you appeared. You spent three years with Maege Mormont, you were no stranger to being jostled around by loud personalities, but the thought made you swallow. Trying not to think about what would happen when you get there and who wasn’t. You knew Dacey hadn’t gotten out that day, and it made you sick to think about.

The two Mormont’s meant much to you, helped ease you into something normal in an army camp as they cared not to watch their tones with you. Dacey didn’t deserve to have her life end at the Twins like that, none of them did. Too many faces you wondered about, some more then others.

Tormund beside you, paid no mind to your thoughts. “After everything? You mean after seeing the dead rise up after getting slaughtered? You southerners aren’t so bad compared to that.”

A moment of quiet between you three before finally speaking up in more command. “I want you coming with us when we travel across.” Both men turned to you with a curious look but you only kept your eye out onto the distant water. “We stayed a ways back so they wouldn’t feel ambushed, but if we are going to get them to say yes, then we shouldn’t shy away from the fact that they’ll be agreeing to fight beside your people.”

A deep humour in his voice with long exaggerated sound out of each word, “I am honoured, your grace.”

For once, that actually got a small smirk out of you. A lightness in your tone that tried to fight away and failed. “Now that just sounded wrong coming out of your mouth.” Tormund laughed as well, knowing only he was watching a far pair of eyes narrowing in this very direction.

Choosing to look as much in them as he could manage as he leaned down to you, “So what does a pretty crow like you prefer to be called?”

Rolling your eyes at such a jest, you fell not for the bait without knowing it was even cast. “Tormund, I am fairly certain it doesn’t matter what I say you will just continue to call me whatever term finds itself in your head.”

It would not be many of you, Jon, Davos, Tormund, Theon, Selyse, and yourself being escorted to the main land of Bear Island hoping it sent a message of civility. There was no real threat of enemy being given from House Mormont and yet as you stepped onto the deck of the boat you felt your heart race. It didn’t matter how many of you there were. An army didn’t save from a massacre the last time you went to a meeting with what was supposed to be an ally.

Still, you stayed on the opposite end as he did. If you didn’t know what to say in private then you were surely lost as to what to say to him in the fake quiet just out of others earshot. But you felt his eyes on you, and thus yours stayed attached to the waters ahead.

“Starting to tell who is used to being on a ship.” Turning to look at Theon, your eyes were slightly squinting from the winds in them but otherwise a little more calm washed through. You were perched against the back wall leading to the bow with both legs hanging over the deck and a hand resting casually on a rope by you. He gestured to your posture himself, “Don’t think I’ve seen you this relaxed in a while either.”

Theon leaned against the edge, his arms folded against the wood just beside where you sat looking out to the waters passing. “You forget, I grew up on an island as well. Spent half my time on ships going from White Harbour, to Dragonstone, to King’s Landing and back. This is nothing.”

Davos was the only other who found agreement in the breeze. Long time his job was travelling along waters but in the recent years of his life they weren’t in hiding from any eyes. At least he and your mother were used to keeping the other’s company by this point. You didn’t want her to be alone, but that didn’t mean you had a clue how to talk to her.

Both you and Theon stuck to looking out to the waters with little focus on any else, it was nice. For a moment, it felt like the days when you were both just teenagers not having to care about the politics around. “I forgot until I got there, how salty Pyke smelled. Even in the summer Winterfell was always so crisp and it wasn’t until I was on a boat did I remember that not being able to smell the sea used to be so odd.”

You managed to find half a smile in your heart, “I always thought anywhere would be better then Dragonstone. Only on the beach did it really smell like the sea, otherwise the further from the castle you go, the more it just smells like brimstone. The deeper into the trees you go the worse that gets.” You could still see her. Hoisted up onto the edge of a rock so she sat level with your height as you both looked down to where you knew deep tunnels were formed under the surface. She hardly left the main bounds of the castle, so Shireen always loved the smell of brimstone. To her it was like the scent of adventure.

Amused slightly, he asked, “You saying Winterfell smells worse then that place?”

No hesitation as your face grimaced in the memory. “No, I’m saying that King’s Landing smells worse then all it combined.” Theon looking curiously at you, but your eyes only kept in the distance as the land grew closer. “Too many people packed into too small of a city, everyone is poor the moment you leave the Red Keep and no one cares about it. Add a summer heat onto that and you get the worse smelling city you’ve ever come across. That I certainly don’t miss.”

“Do you miss anything about it?”

You were quick, tone dropping to something harsh. “No. I was always miserable there. Either I was being dragged away from my sister, or I was being dragged away from..” Swallowing thickly you tried to drop the weight from so high in your throat. “Constantly going from King’s Landing to Winterfell was awful. I was so miserable everytime I got back to the capitol and everyone knew it. Renly used to always say everywhere but Winterfell disagreed with me.”

“He was right.” Your eyes finally meeting. “Much as we try to tell ourselves otherwise, or how long we spent where we grew up, the North was our home. Where our actual family was.” Not a sea sick, but that weight dropped from your throat to your heart and the dizziness from it made you feel nauseous.

“Hard to remember that some days.”

It wasn’t home where you were both kept, it wasn’t home where you were trapped and tortured sometimes only done in mocking of the other. It wasn’t family that brought you back home, that wasn’t a place you belonged. That wasn’t the home what Robb once told you that you belonged in. Even if this was successful, even if you reclaimed it, it was hard to imagine finding a home there once more behind this loneliness.

“Do you ever wonder whether or not it would’ve been better if you left me there?” You didn’t look, you could feel a narrowed sharp gaze on you from Theon but you didn’t want to handle it beyond the swirling in your own mind. “Escape with your own life, and spare the spiral of death that’s done nothing but follow where I go now?”

The weight in his voice made you feel only more sick on the inside. “No. But do you know what it is I do wonder? Whether or not you’ve actually gotten past wishing you were still dead.” A stab in your mind pricked at something that was sharp and full of a sting behind your eyes. “For a long time with him, there was nothing. Took everything about who I was and killed it. Until he dragged me down to see you. And then the only thing that kept me trying to fight to stay myself was knowing that any day I could wake up and you would’ve taken your own life just to make him stop. So I got you out of there, got us out but then some days, I don’t know if I really did. I think you’re still trapped with Ramsay wishing you were dead.”

Truth be told, he wasn’t wrong. Theon knew what that pain inside you was, because he had watched it fester for over a year before you finally ran out into the freezing cold to escape it. But you were still in that place, reliving those nightmares from The Twins and waking up to the violence Ramsay would enjoy throwing your way. And ever since leaving all you did was drag that violence and burden along behind you to weigh down and hurt everyone else with.

And it was nothing but feeling selfish that made you want to jump into these waters and let it take you to the bottom forever. Who would still be alive were you to have stayed dead? If not beside Robb, then at least by taking the less cowardly route and end yourself before you brought this blood to others doorsteps. “There are far too many eyes on me at all times to get away with that now.”

To you it was meant as a joke, but to Theon it was anything but. “No. You’re just going to make the rest of us watch as you do it slowly over time.”

You didn’t argue. He didn’t elaborate. Theon was right but you had no defence, excuse or otherwise to refute it. The only good memories you had left, the only things you found to give any breathe in your lungs were marred in only doing it beacuse you were weak. At least that was what it felt like.

Bear Island was a far more beautiful Island then Dragonstone. Cliff sides of rock that were naturally carved into the thick trees surrounding each clearing of land and water that splashed against them or poured down from pools pocketing the surface. The air was as crisp as ever and the faint misting of water against those rocky shores poured back down onto the boat.

You always loved that mist. In the heat of summer it was a refreshing reprieve from how thick the air was that only ever faded the closer to King’s Landing you sailed. Calm waters in a dense and busy port that was as loud and crowded as it was hot. This wasn’t that, you jumped down from your perched place and braced both hands onto the edge of the boat to look over the coming Keep with wider eyes.

The last time you looked out to the water shining in the sun also painted in your mind, and you felt a twisting in your stomach and the freezing that followed as it bled out in minutes. Suddenly there was a lot less calm, and far more creeping dread inside that you could feel yourself growing dizzy from it’s volume.

As the ship finally docked, you inhaled with your eyes firmly shut for a moment before turning to rejoin the world. Meeting Jon’s eyes as you both made your way to the middle, there was a moment of just firm understanding for the meeting to come. Whatever this was, you had to do it together it was the only way.

He didn’t put a hand on you as he gestured politely for you to pass, but he could easily see the unusual amount of tension strung high in your shoulders. A few guards coming to greet you as Jon took the mantle up to introduce you both by proper name. Keeping it as unmessy as possible with titles now that you both know what of that loomed.

It was strange though, realizing for the first time you had never heard Jon refer to you as anything but a Baratheon. Hearing Stark felt wrong coming from him, but you weren’t sure why, not realizing it was just as strange for him to say it. You as a Stark felt like a different person then the one he knew for so many years, but yet in the quiet and dark you were exactly that same Baratheon he remembered.

If there was talking around you or Jon, neither of you really noticed it. Conversation scattered behind you both between four behind you, who other then now would never have conceived of meeting and ahead two people who knew each other far better then this hurtful silence had any right being attached too.

Tormund and Theon finding a strange array of things to talk about, both coming from culture’s with some of the most bloodshed focused of traditions. Davos and Selyse alongside them, much more quiet but still civil and calm. If any of them noticed the oddity that was the painful silence between you and Jon, none spoke of it.

Coming up to the steps of the castle, you tried not to glance beside you, not to notice the way the mist of the shores had his curls sitting a little less wild in it’s dampness. And biting your tongue with a glare to nothing trying very much to ignore the images in your head and memories your body was asking to relive.

But as he turned to you, if Jon noticed the intentions behind your already watching eyes he didn’t address it. Voice low and in a bit of comfort to your own, sounded the faintest hint of unsure. “Hope you and I know the Mormont’s as well we think.”

Easing those same nerves as you were led inside you nodded to the sword at his side. “I wasn’t the one who was trusted to be given their ancient sword.”

His own tone was more teasing, as was the glint in his eyes looking back at you. “And I’m not the one they followed into war calling a Queen.”

Your eyes now on the halls in front, missing the genuine smile you got from him. “Would be a bit strange if they started calling you a Queen, Snow.” That was a small jest he felt it had been a long time since he had heard from you. Always calling him that only when you were in your own gentle teasing mood, yet it was never even possible to match the levels he could dish to you in particular.

Still, something about how easily the lightness slipped from your mouth, felt like hope.

Alysane Mormont looked remarkably like a younger version of her mother. Tall and large with a bright look in her eye as she stood behind the one sitting in the desk. This one you heard of more, the youngest, Lyanna sat very small and young at only ten. Alysane was older, but seemed to be giving the youngest a chance at being in charge as she watched her carefully.

At least until Jon went to greet them both. Which was when the older one spoke up looking at you with a squint. “Never thought we’d see a Queen in our halls. Let alone a dead one.”

Her tone was light, but gods was the look and air shared between you and Jon anything but. You wanted to be intimidating, wanted to put on the best face but you knew their mother and you knew it wasn’t stilted formality the older woman had responded too.

Your own glance to Alysane with a raised eyebrow, “I never thought I’d wake up after dying. We both get to experience something new.” It was very easy to see her mother in her, letting her sister take the reigns but she watched with something like a fondness as you softened a bit. “I also know Dacey wasn’t given the same chance, and I’m sorry.”

Little Lyanna was as quick as she had been described. “It wasn’t you who killed her.”

You wanted none of that, looking more seriously at her. “No, I didn’t. But someone should take responsibility for it, and she called me Queen which means it’s me to take that blame.”

Her eyes narrowed with a strange look to you, as Alysane turned to look beside you. “You’re here, which means this is Jon Snow, I take it? The King’s brother.”

It was heavy between both of you, and his voice was rough as he spoke. “I am. I also served under your Uncle at Castle Black, my lady. I was his steward.”

Lyanna watched, but it was recognition in her sister’s eyes that was of interest. Glancing down only for a second to where the hilt of Longclaw could be seen, before glancing back up to look at him with something that certainly made the air feel a little more interesting. “Last I heard you were named Lord Commander after him. What’s Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch doing at our Queen’s side all the way here?”

You narrowed your eyes, as she certainly would know. But Jon didn’t play along with whatever game the ladies were trying to set up as he looked to Lyanna. “We’re here to ask for your help. I know Stannis Baratheon tried to pledge your house to his army, and I was shown your response, Lady Lyanna. Bear Island knows no King, but the King in the North. Whose name is Stark.”

Moment of weakness, your eyes flickered over to him. Standing tall and sure it was easy to see why he’d be chosen as Lord Commander. Even in deep quiet tones, he spoke as a leader.

“Now I may not be a Stark in name, but Robb was my brother, and the home and Kingdom he died for is being torn apart by the Boltons. And I also know that the same man who murdered him and shoved a knife in her stomach.” Jon gestured to you with something of a controlled anger in his voice and clear as day on his face. “Kept your Queen as their prisoner, and spent almost a year being tortured by them beyond anything you can imagine. Roose and Ramsay Bolton cannot be allowed to keep Winterfell, and as long as they do, the North will continue to suffer. With Robb gone, that means it is my duty to stop them.”

Unseen by most of the party, but as Ser Davos stood to the side there was a bit of a proud smile trying to fight it’s way onto his face. Jon was not quite as stubborn as Stannis had seemed to think.

The younger one glancing to her sister before turning back to the pair of you with her own doubtful eyes. “You mean to protect the North, but you bring wildlings into our land, and one into my home?”

An eyebrow raised on you, “Forgive me, my lady but it seems you might be misunderstanding what we are here for.” All eyes turned to you as you found something of a voice, “Jon and I are not here to ask you to make friends. The Free Folk and the Night’s Watch have been fighting each other for thousands of years and yet now there is an army of them on the mainland who followed Jon all this way because they understand this is more important then who our enemies were before.”

Something in you couldn’t let it passed. Something deep that remembered, as you sat against the bars in an unknowing shock, staring at the corpse of the man next to you. And in the worst of that moment, it was Tormund who came to sit at your side. Who helped you stand and regain your focus to do what needed to be done that day. “Both of these men fought against each other, murdered men on the other side of their fight but now they stand here together because they understand that if we can’t protect the North from each other then we cannot protect it from whats coming.”

A silence was thick in that room. “And what exactly is coming, your grace?”

You could see the visions and dreams of cold and ice but it was Jon who answered for you. “Summer is over, and winter isn’t just coming, my lady. It’s already here. And when the worst of it hits, so will the dead, and with them, the Others.” Both women shared a look, but there was no amusement in any of the eyes in the room standing before them. Jon’s own was filled with a haunting memory. “I went to Hardhome beyond the wall to bring the free folk south, because the Others are awake, and they’re building their own army. I saw them, I fought them, I even killed one of them and when it was all over I watched every single person who died stand up beside them.”

Stepping forward to the desk, there was an undeniable determination in his eyes that made both Mormonts almost shrink back from it’s intensity. His palms leaning against the desk to properly look the more defiant one on equal ground. “If we can’t protect the North from ourselves, then when the Others come, we won’t stand a chance. The free folk have attacked Bear Island many times over I know that, they held me prisoner in their own lands where at any moment he,”

He turned partially, gesturing to Tormund behind him, “or any of the others I was with were ready to kill me the second they realized I wasn’t on their side. But now he’s trusted his people with me, because we cannot fight a war amongst ourselves and expect there to be enough of us to fight the only one that matters. There’s no hiding from this. We have to fight, and we have to do it together. All of us.”

Alysane looked at you with a questioning gaze that you almost willed her not to bring up. Letting Lyanna prove her valour and stand her ground in making a choice for her people, and it was a relieving feeling when the small girl looked up at Jon almost impressed. “House Mormont has kept faith with House Stark for thousands of years. And we will not break faith today.”

Jon nodded, standing up straighter. “Thank you, my lady. But I’m not asking you on behalf of House Stark. I’m only asking you to protect the North we both grew up in, not for my family, and not for any oaths you swore to them. I’m a Northerner just like you, all I’m asking is you fight beside me as one as well.”

Your eyes slipped shut. You knew she was going to say it, and it was precisely why you wanted Jon to understand exactly what this was going to be. Alysane was the one who likely knew it, if not both the surely the now eldest daughter she would know. “Are you though?”

Jon turned his head to her, a confusion in his own eyes that slipped to a well hidden realization. If he were to be honest if you had asked, he had almost forgotten about that conversation. It was a little too easy, almost embarrassingly so to forget that conversation when he was torn between this coming wars and trying very hard not to obsess like an animal over how to fix things between you.

But as she spoke, you could feel all four pairs of eyes turn to you from behind as Jon looked at Alysane. Perhaps you should have warned them of this as well. “Only asking us a Northerner? The King in the North we chose was your brother. My mother brought our men to fight for Robb Stark against the Lannisters, my eldest sister was killed the same night the Freys and Boltons killed the King, and his Queen.” Her eyes were curious and it painfully reminded you of the knowing look Maege Mormont had given you when you realized she knew you were hiding being with child.

Your voice was a bit cracked, as Jon took a step back now closer to your side then he was when this meeting first started. Speaking, you tried not to think about how comforting being close to him currently felt. “If you would like Lady Alysane, Jon and I could stand here and show you the scars that killed us both if you are with doubt of our story or intentions, though it might be a tad indecent in front of your younger sister.”

They had heard rumours of you, but not of him and yet not a single one in your own group looked as if it were untrue or merely a joke. House Mormont was your best shot, and you knew you had to lay our cards out on the table as plain as possible. No matter how uncomfortable.

For a moment she looked taken back, “Your grace that was not..” She glanced between you both with something in her eyes that looked just like the awing fear many had thrown you and Jon at Castle Black and amongst the free folk. “It was not my intention to doubt, we have no reason to think either of yourselves would come to us with lies. My mother trusted you, and my uncle you.” Nodding to you then Jon respectively. “I merely mean he isn’t just asking us as a Northerner-”

You could still see two faces, one on Jons of a stunned feeling when you told him, and the other of Robb as there was nothing but confidence and love as he made it clear to all of his decision. You were quiet, and Jon was thankful you spoke for him this time. “Help us reclaim the North first. Nothing is as important as this fight, right now. The Bolton’s will soon know we are coming for them and we need as much of the North together as we can for when we come to their doors.”

The two Mormonts shared a look. Lady Lyanna looking up to both of you, “I can give you sixty two of my our own household guard, and whatever of our own men my mother can provide you with.”

Your eyes perked up slightly, as did a jolt in your heart. She was one you did not know the fate of. “Is she currently available to meet with ourselves?”

Alysane tilted her head in question, “She should be returning to the keep by nightfall, left us in charge while she rallied up men as soon a she got your raven, your grace.” You and her both looked at each other with a unique little moment of glee. Alysane had heard much of you, not just as a Queen, but as someone who her mother clearly considered a most valuable friend. “We can provide you all with food and room for the night if you are willing to wait here for her return.”

Grey eyes found yours, and in your single nod, Jon wasn’t sure but he seemed to sense exactly what it was you were saying. Or more, you seemed to understand his silent question and agreed. “You’re very kind, we would be glad too.”

A small comment from Davos, that it seemed, managed to make the little Lyanna smile a bit more like the child she was. “If these men are half as ferocious as you two, the Boltons are doomed.”

It was just as you were departing, did Alysane call for you once more. Turning back into the room you looked expectantly. “There is a man in your group, one who looks an awful lot like Theon Greyjoy.”

She said nothing else of the matter, but you didn’t even move to fully face her as you spoke with a quiet sternness. “That would be beacuse he is, my lady.” Asking why you would allow him here with his life you didn’t even blink. “It was the sentence given by both the King in the North and myself for Theon to be brought to him for execution. And now he stands by my side with his head intact. I will only ask you trust that means his crimes have been paid for, and mention it no more.”

It was that very one who was turned back to watch as you finally followed, and for just a moment you both looked to the other with a distant unsettled feeling. These people will have no idea just what he’d been through and how many times over it paid for his crimes. But as you nodded for him to move forward along side you, you figured that if they could trust wildlings through Jon they could trust Theon through you.

Nightfall seemed to bring storm clouds onto Bear Island. The gold of the evening fading out as you considered if it was worthwhile to bother heading inside. Not on the side of too dark, but the wind picked up as soon no doubt rain would splatter onto the waters you were looking out at in a matter of time.

Deepwood Motte was where you would descend on next and reports were still accurate, Ironborn likely still sat deep in the area and getting House Glover on your side would require a fight no doubt. It felt like a lifetime seen you’d seen any kind off violence on fair battle, more so making you wonder if you even had it in you anymore. This wasn’t the same unified fight as it once was, this was a scattered group desperate to unify before it was too late. Group of people who were struggling to find harmony when there was no question of that the first time.

Everything this time around already started in something broken. A cause that you had to convince people of, from two people who could barley look at each other by now. All this talk of what was meant and destined, but it all felt so disjointed the second you two were alone. You never used to be this way, it was always so easy being with Jon.

If you were being true to yourself, you were fairly certain that the night before this all kicked off was the first time either of you had ever even argued. Normally finding little to even disagree on, and it wasn’t something you enjoyed doing. You liked getting to the point or just shutting it out until it simmered but then he kept talking and you couldn’t keep it to yourself. You had spoken more today then the entire journey to get to Bear Island from Castle Black.

Maybe you could slink way in the rain, disappear and him to lead this fight as a true leader on his own and find success within that.

Enough time had passed all on your own that you hadn’t noticed until the sun begun to set. Didn’t notice that you had missed any appearance in a meal. Your back laid flat on the edge of a stone walls, just looking out to the lands and water, hoping when it rained you would melt with it.

Jon really should have known better. He knew Tormund was trying to poke at him, trying to set off something that the man knew he was holding back and yet he still let it get to him. Earlier that day, there was no other reason he was making such direct eye contact with him across the camp other then to burn that part of Jon’s insides that hated seeing someone else with you so freely.

He had never had that, and he still didn’t. He could, it didn’t seem like many objected to the idea and even noticed on his part. Uncomfortably he was well aware of the curious stares your mother had been giving him, and he had no idea how to feel about that. Like every Baratheon in your family, Selyse was incredibly hard to read beyond such a stoned expression and sharp but watchful eyes. Even moreso now that much of this group had stuck together since arriving, but like you, she was very quiet.

He had known the woman seemed to be pushing you to some ideas of destiny. It was that of a trick he did, but having no idea where you were, Jon focused enough. Just the right amount of energy that never stopped feeling bone chilling when it happened. If he did it now it would be even stranger, Ghost being on the mainlands and none would know it was Jon through his eyes. But he trusted them to keep peace without having to babysit.

You however, he was started to think he should just chain you to him for how often you slunk away on your own. Missing the offer of food from the Mormonts, no one knew where you were. And it was that damned orange haired smug smile of Tormund's as he looked to Jon, “Aye, she probably just needs the right kind of company. If no one else objects-”

Jon took it upon himself to stand abruptly from the table with a deep grumble as he glared. “No need. I’ll go.” Before walking out without waiting for any response. He never had to deal with what this was. It was different with Robb, neither of you chose that and Jon left before he was forced to watch whatever it turned into. Until he did, but from what he knew now that you’d seen a fair share of your own.

Jon knew why it was more difficult for you. Neither you nor Robb had any choice, it was a surprise to everyone and you made the best of what you were dealt. He wasn’t lying when he said he wanted you and Robb to love each other and he was proud his brother did find someone who made him happy. But no one involved got to choose, there was no freedom there.

But he never talked about Ygritte, and all you could gather was whispers from others and what the gods had unfairly chosen to show you. All you had seen, was Jon finding something with her that he could never have with you. Ygritte herself tried to argue with him that this was freedom, he could choose to do whatever he wanted and it didn’t matter what they were long as they had each other.

Freedom of course, coming at the cost of Jon’s well being. It took a very long time for him to admit the truth to himself and even now it felt pathetic to say. But it was her, or death. Nothing else. Prove your worth they said, and proving it was to give her the one thing Jon had spent years dreaming of sharing with you. Convince himself it was good just because of how it felt, telling himself because sometimes he saw the amusing sides of her that that was the true picture.

But then you asked him that final night and the last of his lies snapped and he let it all explode between the two of you. You had gone to the top of the wall before, looking out to the North one last time in the freezing cold. “I should take you to see how strange it looks from the South during the daytime in some places.”

“I think I already have.”

Posed on the edge of the bed he looked up to you, both of your minds trailing to that strange moment thousands of miles away from each other. Eyes wide before something uncomfortable sat in his chest and moved to his heart. Swallowing with a nod he dropped his head. “Right.” He didn’t in that moment know why he spat it out, but he did. “I didn’t love her. Ygritte..I didn’t love her.”

You paused mid movement, turning away from him as your brows narrowed, mumbling. “It isn’t my business if you did.” Jon trying to call your name, get you to look at him but you just shook your head facing away from him. “She was someone you could be with, could be together with. I wouldn’t blame you.”

Jon sighed, trying to get you to look at him but you just kept looking away. You weren’t malicious, or cruel, or even going for something with an agenda. It was an innocent, quiet question. “Why not? Love her I mean. Why not?”

It was unfair to let it out on you but he did. “You’re really asking me why I didn’t love her? You?”

Turning around it was obvious you were confused, but he barrelled on through your protests of confusion at his anger. “You’re the only person I’ve ever loved my entire life. Do you really think the second you’re gone I’m going to just fall for the first woman who comes along? That I forgot about you that easy?” You tried saying his name but he was getting louder, and he knew he needed to pull it back but it wasn’t really you he was looking at.

It was a far more defiant face who pushed him and pushed him all day long until she broke him enough that he relented, and then every support she gave him was in value of something Jon never was or wanted to be. An anger in her own eyes that you never even came close to looking at him with, and a combative attitude that was exhausting, and would constantly strip away at his own self worth.

Standing up, he saw your guarded expression as you barley blinked or moved only for it to look like her smug smirk that mocked him relentlessly until he was exactly what she wanted. “Spending every night having to put my own direwolf between us beacuse she’d spend the whole time trying to get close to me, mocking me for never sleeping with a woman just because it was the one string she could pull at and get a reaction? Are those the things I should have fallen in love with?”

You didn’t know these things, and he knew that.

“Or was it when every single person in their camp wanted me dead and the only way I could protect my own life, was to send Ghost away because I knew he’d never let her near me if he stayed? Or how the only reason I even could stand touching her was beacuse I kept seeing you in my head instead?” He was right in front of you by that point and you hadn’t moved what so ever. He wasn’t even sure you had blinked. “That’s the person you think I should've fallen in love with after you? A girl who didn’t respect a single thing about me, and was only letting me stay alive beacuse she took everything I had left to defend myself and made me fuck her against my will.”

He never said it out loud like that, and as soon as he did, Jon felt something twist inside of him he did not like. Something that felt sickening. And as you looked at him with soft eyes that he wanted to fall into, he instead let his head spin and skin feel filthy.

You softly muttered his name, “Jon..”

Jon had refused to let himself come any closer. Turning around and running a hand over his mouth looking at the floor before you. “Ygritte took everything from me that I always wanted to give to you, and then had me tricking myself into thinking it was real only as long as it kept me alive. And while I was lying to myself about being with her, you and Robb were murdered. When I finally got away, I tried to play off her feelings and say she wouldn’t hurt me because she loved me and it got me shot full of arrows and dreaming about you in a pool of your own blood only to wake up and find out it was real.”

Clearly you were trying to keep an even tone in your whisper. “Why not tell someone the truth?”

He glared at you, when you didn’t deserve it voice deep as it rasped out, “No one would believe me. A man of the Night’s Watch letting a wildling girl take advantage of him? The only person who would’ve cared about any of it was dead, and when I finally get her back in front of me, she tells me I’m wasting my time trying to love her again. You think that makes me feel good?”

You bit your tongue, and Jon hadn’t quite grasped until later that it was your own nightmares flashing through your mind, showing exactly why you weren’t worth someone like him. You had always held him in a higher regard then he thought he deserved, and he knew you were still doing it now. Only now it was with a lot more pain.

“I wasn’t trying to..I didn’t know..I’m sorry.”

It was tense in the air, and something needed to break before it all was thick enough to choke on. Jon did it first as he sat down on the edge of the bed. Neither of you looking at each other. “I know you loved Robb, and he loved you. I wanted you both to and I’m happy you loved each other when you had the chance. But I never wanted to love anybody but you, and I never will. So don’t stand there and tell me I deserved to love someone who stood against every kindness you ever showed me.”

You could only whisper you were sorry, before you walked out. And he hadn’t seen you until morning, a stiff, steeled expression in your eyes and posture. Jon felt a lot of regret, you didn’t deserve to be yelled at for the things Ygritte did, but you were nothing if not an expert at avoiding him these past days.

And it wasn’t until you two walked up to the Keep of Bear Island did he feel like he was slowly getting a bit you back. Now as he looked for you, natural instincts told him where to look. Along the edges of the Keep closer to the water where the setting sun lay and brushing storm clouds were swooping in from.

You always liked cliff sides and water’s edge. No doubt a time from growing up on Dragonstone, and so Jon begun searching along each corner for you, trying to run around in his mind figuring out how to ease you into an apology. How to make it better for yelling at you, even though a sinking part of him had a feeling that you would just forgive him without question.

Not wanting to risk making him mad, and he could only angrily think of how cruel Ramsay was to you to try and beat that little spark and tough fire inside of you down to nothing like this. And how he would even begun putting that flame back like you deserved. You brought Jon back both in life and spirit and he wouldn’t stop until he did the same for you, no matter how you chose to accept him in your life anymore.

Rounding one corner is when he spotted you, leaning back with your arms crossed against a pillar near a set of stairs as your eyes were trained hard on the road in the distance. Slowly Jon came up just behind you, seeing the horses in the distance and the galloping of what sounded like a fair number of them. “Where are the others?”

Glancing back to you, there was almost a hint of anticipation in your eyes that for a moment almost looked childlike. It was strange, both of you so far away having found something of different companionship in the two eldest Mormonts. Leaning his head a bit closer to you, rumbling a bit quietly in your ear. “Hopefully making sure Tormund doesn’t scar Lady Lyanna for life.”

You smirked a small bit, your mood having lightened somewhat since arriving. Even from what he could see, just being on the ship sent you at ease more. “From what I’ve seen I’m not sure there’s much that scares any of them.”

“There is one thing.” His voice low and serious, you both glanced to each other in a knowing that convincing these people to fight a war against their enemies is one thing. Making the rest of the North believe in the rest was another.

Your eyes softened a bit looking at him before you seemed to realize how long you had been, fluttering them back to the growing distance. “You were impressive back there. In that meeting. Leadership suits you.”

Unlike you, Jon felt no need to hide the returning look to you and keep it there for far longer then would normally be considered appropriate. “I’m glad someone thinks so.” Your posture stiffened for only a second with almost panic swirling in your eyes before letting it deflate in a shaking exhale Jon knew you were hoping he didn’t see.

The numbers that gathered were easily groups that were in the hundreds. The woman in front climbed down from a great horse, standing tall and large in stature with a harsh face that squinted as she looked up to both of you before settling on your own person.

Ascending the stairs together, Jon watched the woman look you over before a great smile came over her. “Gods be good, the rumours are true.” You stood a few feet away from her with as much composure as you always had before the larger woman came forward closer to look at you closer. “We never thought you’d be a face we’d ever be seeing again, your grace.”

Only in a single second, the larger woman barrelled you in a large hug, one that she almost laughed into and Jon could see something tight and relieved in your own grip. Pulling you back by your forearms as she looked at you, Jon clearly seeing a smirk plastered on both almost like family. If he were being honest, it felt like a reunion you should have had with your actual mother.

The woman with such a casualness, “And you still look just as shit as the last time I saw you.”

Your tone was light, something much more like a genuine smile coming over the rest of your face as you breathed out from a laugh, “Happy to see you’re still around to keep all those beasts at bay.” As you leaned in for one more embrace, you seemed to have whispered something to her as when the woman turned to look at Jon, there was already a realization in her eyes she was keeping to herself as you stepped back between them.

Her gesturing towards him with her head in a playful glint. “Now, you going to introduce me to the handsome lad or what?”

Coming closer to accept her now outstretched hand, “Jon Snow, my lady. I’m-”

The casual interruption with what she already knew already reminded him of the Old Bear. So nonchalantly would toss information at him Jon didn’t even know how the man found out. “I’ve heard all about you. You’re Robb Stark’s brother.” Stepping back he nodded as she glanced at him with a curiousness in her eye. “You also served under my brother up at the Wall.”

“I did. He was a good man, deserved better then how he died.”

You seemed to glance between them with a narrowed expression before turning to Maege with a more steeled expression once more. “I will go let your daughters know you’ve arrived back. Bring your men here up to speed while I’m at it.”

He didn’t say anything, but there was a look in Jon’s eye trying to pull you back to him. To stop you from running away but as you ascended the steps with a few of those who rode up with some familiarity, Jon was beginning to think he was going to have to corner you to just get you to stay in one place. Not realizing he had been watching for far too long as Maege stepped closer to beside him. “Now I know it’s not me that woman’s running away from.”

There was a curious pointed look in her eye that Jon didn’t respond too. Trying to speak through a vaguely nervous tick of clearing his throat. “She’s been through a lot, still adjusting to some things.”

Maege hummed as she looked at him for another moment before beckoning him to follow her up the steps. “It know too well it won’t help much, but I’m sorry about your brother.” His eyes flickered to the side to a knowing distant pain in the older womans. “Hearing your brother got butchered by his own men thousands of miles away from where you could even try to help. Awful way to die, awful way to find out they died.”

Turning down a path to overlook the waters you likely had just been waiting around she added, “Though, you two also know what that feels like first hand don’t you?” Jon’s heart skipped a beat under the hole above it to remind him. A bit of a chuckle left her at the rigid response given. “Brother was Lord Commander for a long time, I still know men there who keep me in the know. Should I even bother asking how either of you survived or is that why our jumpy Queen there seems so keen on not looking at you?”

Jon swallowed harshly, looking down as his palms braced gently on the stone wall in front of them brows narrowed. “I don’t know how she did it, or if she’s even sure it was her. But I’ve seen her scar and I know there’s no way she didn’t bleed out in minutes.” His voice was rough, and his chest felt heavy at the delirious dreams as he was unconscious seeing it for the first time. “Or why I’m walking around after getting a knife shoved in my heart, but we’re both here and we know as long as the Boltons are allowed to control the North we can’t protect anyone when they come.”

If there was only one thing that could truly haunt Jon in such a dread filled way it was that day. The sight of just how many free folk stood up beside the Others with glowing blue eyes. Staring one of them down feeling as cold and hopeless as ever, knowing that he could cut down as many as them as he could but with the numbers they awoke? If the North stayed this torn apart, Jon wasn’t going to be able to protect anyone.

All that was between them was the splashing of water against the rocks before she spoke up, quiet in tone but with a deeper conviction. “We all followed your brother into war before he he fought his first battle, chose him as our King after the Lannisters murdered your father. Because we believed in him. You lead these men and reclaim the North? They’ll follow you no matter what comes for us beyond that Wall.”

This was why you warned him, it was inevitable. “I’m not here to ask anyone as a King-”

Confidence seeped into her voice. Looking at him with a knowing glint that reminded Jon all too much of the Old Bear. “The King didn’t name you his heir against our will. The two of them came to us with no arguments. You’re Ned Stark’s son and you were his brother and that was all he needed be sure he wanted it to be you. They both did. They both knew you deserved what he had and if none of us thought the same it wouldn’t have been such a damn quick meeting to sign off on it.”

His heart screamed heavy at him, jealous of Robb for so much, for so long that the mere idea that in the end he wanted Jon to succeed him simply because they were brothers put a stop in his throat. Not arguing of politics or duty, but that he wasn’t just forgotten at the wall from his brother. He had missed Jon as much as Jon missed Robb, and in his death only could find one final thing to give to his brother hoping to bring him back home.

It was a weak argument, and she sniffed it out right as he said it. “You still have her, she’s still your Queen to follow.”

Maege smiled at that. “Aye, but she doesn’t want to be our leader. Knows as well as I do that no matter what people try to say, she isn’t her father. Holding that weight up by herself is too much for her, and I could take a guess what sorts of things the Boltons did to her, I think leading us all on her own would crush her. She and your brother worked so well because they were a team. She trusted him much as he did her to the point it’s easy to forget she’s not even a Northern sometimes.”

But what kind of King could Jon ever be compared to Robb? He couldn’t imagine any kind of admiration as he knew Robb had earned from these people, he was ready to lead them into a war of survival but somehow taking up Robb’s mantle as King was the thing that felt daunting.

But it’s what Robb wanted, and he knew it was what you wanted. You just refused to push him into something not knowing if he wanted it. You never pushed him into anything he may not want.

“You didn’t name Robb a King until he started winning battles. Least I can do is wait and see if I win my own this side of the Wall before I start thinking I deserve it.” Maege laughed, something under her breath muttering about you all being stubborn and he had an inkling he just may have started to sound like Robb himself.

There was quiet for a breathe, before she turned tune. “Alright, enough of that. Let me see it.”

Jon looked over to her with a confused expression before she nudged him on the arm, gesturing to his side. “The sword. Been some twenty years since I laid eyes on Longclaw, let me see the wolf.” Pulling it out from it’s sheath, Maege grabbed the hilt from him with a bright look.

The smile was wide as she turned the wolf head around to take it all in. “He made it after your own direwolf, he said. What’s his name?”

Jon nodded, a small grin on his own face looking over the hilt himself. “Ghost. When we found the direwolves, he was far away from the others, so quiet he never even made a sound. I have no idea how I even heard he was there.” His own memory fading back to when he first got Longclaw. Showing Ghost the hilt remade, and telling him with a grin how it was him. Even apart now only by a few miles of sea and land he found himself missing him.

Maege looking over the red jems as eyes with a fondness. “Gods, it is good to see this thing finally getting some use after all this time.” Starting to hand it back to Jon, it seemed he made a mistake with what he said next.

“It’s an honour, being given the chance to use your families sword.” The look she gave him now really reminded Jon of the way the Old Bear would look at him sometimes. Like the way he’d look him down as if to say to get your shit together.

She all but bashed it into his chest for him to grab. “Seven hells. Do you really think that man went to all the trouble of remaking the entire bear hilt, re carving it, finding jems for those eyes only beacuse he assumed you were borrowing it?” Rolling her eyes, there was a fondness in her eyes as she looked at him. “That sword spent over twenty years sitting up at the wall. Just mocking my brother beacuse it was just a reminder of how badly his son had disgraced this family.”

Shaking her head, she looked out to the water. A deep memory painting over her. “We all were sure it would stay up there until he died, and then it would just sit here in the Keep like some ancient artifact. But instead, he saw something enough in you not just to let you use it, but to give it to you.” Nodding to the hilt visible where it sat on his person. “He didn’t carve that wolf out so it could come back to us and just get re carved again. It was our families sword. Now, it’s yours. And whatever family you may decide you ever want. But don’t be fooled, Jeor gave you that beacuse he believed in you, and because you deserved it. You Starks seem to be pretty bad at accepting you’re allowed to deserve good things.”

If the emotional punch to the gut was noticeable in Jon’s hesitant pause, she didn’t point it out. But she did something that Jon had only ever been used to from you. So casually grouping him in with House Stark without a second thought because you never really understood the point of seeing him as anything but one of them. And that was a habit Jon knew for certain, Maege Mormont could have only picked up from hearing you, even after all that time, still group him in with everyone else no matter what the world tried to say.

You never shied away from the fact that he was a Snow, but you never once kept his identity in your mind separate from the Starks. Stannis Baratheon had offered him Lord of Winterfell to be an ally, and make him a Stark in name. Something for years he always wanted.

And yet as you had stood there, telling him that the North, you, and that Robb had so easily decided they wanted him to be King in the North if anything happened to him. And that not once in that offer did you ever push him to take it, or that you wanted him to be anything but who he is. The fact that becoming a Stark wasn’t part of Robb wanting Jon to be King, he thought to himself, meant more then being made a Stark by someone else.

Because Stark or not, to Robb, Jon Snow was his brother no matter what. And being King after him didn’t require a formal deceleration of becoming one of the family. It was strange for Jon at this point in his life to realize that the brother Jon always thought was better and got a better deal in life, truly loved him with no hangups or clauses attached to it.

It was a Southern King that said only Jon Stark could be Lord of Winterfell. But it was his own brother who wanted Jon Snow to be King in the North after him.

And for some reason, all Jon could think to do in that small moment by himself, was to smile. It was always odd in his heart how much you had always seen Jon for exactly who you knew he could be, but it was a whole other thing to start realizing that the North he grew up in, just might be coming to that same conclusion as well.

But as he stood there, the storm clouds still debating amongst their own if it should bring rain over the setting sun, he thought of almost nothing but Robb. He wasn’t there to protect him when it mattered most, but Jon knew he needed to do more to protect what of Robb’s was left.

Wherever his brother was now, Jon hoped that Robb trusted him with his wife. Because in the year since losing him, Jon knew you were left in a confused insurmountable amount of grief and pain that was only soaked in more blood and new torture. Leaving you in a darkness all alone, and someone needed to force you out of that pit before it took you away again forever.

You trust me with your kingdom, his silence spoke. Eyes slipping closed as he stood in the quiet, hoping Robb could hear his prayers. Now please, trust me with her heart. She fought in a war beside you, but this time, someone needs to be the one to fight for her, someone needed to stand in front of her, and tell her it’s okay to let me protect her.

You kept away from Jon because you were terrified of forcing things or feelings onto him that your tormented mind worried would no longer exist. But this pain between you was all out in the open now. You were honest and so was he. You needed someone to protect you instead of forcing you face these demons all on your own.

Jon hoped the crashing of water against the rocks, and the cold wind swirling around as it flew through his thick curls, was Robb answering his prayers with his blessing. Because Jon was going to do it anyways.

Walking to where you were to stay for the night, you felt mentally drained. The Mormonts were far too lively of a bunch to handle in your current state, and too many questions, looks, and stories being thrown around. Already before even reaching the door, you begun unlacing everything with the intent to throw it all on the ground like a petulant child.

But as you slipped into the door, you could see Jon leaning against the wall of the cozy room by the window. Your mind noticing the long grey shirt you normally never saw under the black and leather atop it, with some of his other things gently draped along the desk. Pausing without closing the door, you narrowed your eyes “I assume I’m in the wrong room.”

“You’re not.”

His voice was deep, but steady as his grey eyes were bright looking to you. Slowly you shut the door behind you, a confused furrow in your brows as you looked at him. Jon watched you with something so much softer then anything the past number of days, a look he was unafraid of letting you see in full opposed to the heavily guarded state you were still in.

Taking only a few steps in at a time, you slowly placed your own sword down beside his against the wall before finding yourself not knowing what to do. “Am I allowed to ask why in a place this big I can’t be trusted with my own room?”

Jon’s chuckle was deep, and a small smile full of a fondness as he met you more in the middle. Even as he was dressed down, and you still dressed properly you felt small in comparison. “Maybe you just can’t be trusted to get a decent sleep all on your own.”

A lightness in your chest burst out before you could even contemplate the playfulness in your eyes as you said it. “Funny thing to say, coming from a man who used to barley manage getting more then five hours half his life.”

He watched you for a second, stripping you down of those barriers without a word before gesturing for you to put your back to face him. Not considering that you just followed that silent command without any question until his hands gently started to undo the rest of your outer layers. Trying to look back at him confused, “I can do this part just fine, you know.”

The hum in your ear sent a small shiver down your spine as he rasped. “So why are you letting me?” You could see the edges of his curls in the side of your vision but you had no answer for that other then to stand in the quiet and let him.

When you were just a tinge lighter, Jon stepped closer, so lightly running his hands down your arms you almost felt lightheaded at the sensation. Somehow so warm against the cold of the night air, your body relaxed enough to find the courage. “Jon, about the other night-”

You almost gasped, feeling his chest press closer to your back, his voice rasping but soft, hands soothingly still running up and down. “Don’t apologize. You asked me a question, and I yelled at you for something you couldn’t possibly have known. You didn’t deserve that, so let me be the sorry one.” A weight in your chest sunk down, a sting behind your eyes as you nodded. “Good. Because I want you to listen to what I’m about to say.”

He was braver then you, but if you weren’t such a coward, you’d be temped to reach one of your hands to to grasp his. “Okay.” Only a breathless whisper came out.

Jon’s voice was as full of something heavy as you could feel in his heart. “Robb doesn’t want you to feel this alone. You loved each other, and you always will but he doesn’t want you to hate your life after him.” His hands stopped moving, but one of his thumbs continued to run across the fabric over your arm. “And you are not ruining my life by being here. I never thought I’d get the chance to even see you again, but now we’re both here. And maybe the gods wanted it that way, maybe it just is the way it happened to work out by chance but I can’t just stand back and watch you try to push me away because of what’s broken up here.”

One hand moved to gently tap at the side of your head, as you tried to pull away at the sensation. Only as you reached back to instinctively swat at his hand, Jon caught it in his, bringing it down to wrap your arm across your stomach still holding onto it, and pull you closer to him. “What I said, about you being with Ygritte I never would have....had I known I wouldn’t have never suggested it.”

Jon nodded against the back of your head, “Well now we both know. That’s what you were doing earlier right? Laying our cards out on the table for them to see, make sure they understand exactly what they would be getting into?” You nodded, your heart speeding up a bit. “I thought I lost you once, but this time I’m never going to stop fighting for you. You deserve to have someone who loves you, but if you don’t want it, if you don’t want me like this,” The hand on your arm sliding up gently to trace over the sensitive skin of your neck as you shook out an exhale. “I’ll never push you for anything, but we cannot hide from each other anymore. You need to tell me if you don’t want this, but not beacuse you think you don’t deserve it or because you wrongly think I don’t want you.”

You felt ready to cry if you were being honest, he made this too easy. To slip into a need to be close to him and not want anything else. “I will always love Robb,” Jon nodded as your eyes fluttered shut but when your heart didn’t steady you had to say it anyways. “But that never stopped with you, either.”

His hands on you tightened the slightest, as you let out a small sigh when his lips so gently pressed to your neck. Jon’s tone husky as he spoke into another gentle kiss, “Will you let me do something for you? Is it alright if I make you feel good?”

Heart about to explode, your mind so lightheaded you could pass out. Not sure if you could handle the roughness like that one night, not sure if it was a wolf at all you could take but you nodded. You trusted Jon.

He didn’t push you further, he wanted to be gentle it seemed. Running his lips so gently over your neck without ever pressing any firmer, and his hands didn’t grow rough in their touch as Jon gently pulled back enough to pull your shirt up and off your chest.

Dropping it where it lay, you shivered from the cold as he reached both hands down past your breasts to slowly run along the edge of your pants before pushing you to the bed, “Sit down for me. Let me take care of you.”

As you turned to sit, you could see the grey in Jon’s eyes was dark enough to look almost black as he carefully pulled the material off your body. Kneeling down before you as you were perched on the edge of the bed, he ran those same eyes all over your body with an intensity as you sat bare before him, still totally dressed.

Gently, your hands reached out. One running along the edges of his curls before dancing across the scratchiness of his facial hair, the other finding his shoulder as you sat up straighter. Your breaths growing in heaviness as you both watched the other carefully. Jon finally returning the gesture, running both of his hands along your cheeks before leaning up.

Your lungs stopped in the swiftness of the movement, your eyes fluttered shut only he didn’t close the gap. Only traced the length of your nose with his, keeping you so close you could feel his breathe until he could sense the nerves simmer back down inside you. Both thumbs running over your cheeks as he exhaled shakily. “Doesn’t seem real sometimes. Being allowed to have you this way. Spent all my life knowing I’d have to give you up and it never got any easier.”

Your hand ran through his hair more like a comb, nails raking smoothly along them but never tugging at each more wild tangle. Keeping his forehead pressed to you. “Do you remember what we talked about, that last night in front of the Weirwood?” Your brows narrowed trying to recall it, as you unintentionally drew his attention away as your nails scratched his scalp more. Jon pressed into you further, a distracted but satisfied hum deep in his chest almost like that of the wolf usually found at his side finding his voice again. “Talking about how we’d meet in a different life?”

Slowly, Jon started to move his hands down. Keeping just as close knelt before you, but slowly letting his hands run down your neck and over your shoulders as his voice was a gentle rasp. “We were way off, weren’t we? Castle Black is a far cry from Highgarden.” Tracing his fingers over the sides of your breasts you tensed at the spark of touch, “It’s also far too cold to be summer. But maybe this as good of a new one as we will get.” With a touch as light as a feather he ran his thumbs over both your nipples, almost jumping at the feeling.

Your eyes opened to drift down to his shirt, the edges just far enough that you couldn’t see the mark over his heart even though Jon could see the one on your stomach perfectly. Your eyes slipped back shut however, as his rough hands more fully grasped at your breasts, and the spark underneath swam more throughout your body and into your blood.

Sighing out high pitched, one of your hands slipped from him to grasp at the sheets below while the other wrapped more around the back of his neck into his curls. The movement naturally pulling your chest better up to his own level so one hand of his reached to hold steady at your hip before moving back to the task at hand. Opting to press his lips lightly to your collarbones.

Moving down slowly until the hand on one breast twisted so he could pull your nipple between his fingers as his mouth gently nibbled at the other. Your gasp far louder then the quiet of the room but it only spurred him on to bite a little harder, the other hand twisting a little firmer.

His last touch was so desperate, so raw and rough, that you felt dizzy in his arms this time around from how almost teasing it felt in comparison. Groping a little greedier as his lips found the same path until you let out a needy hiss at a harsher bite. Pulling back though, you gripped his hair a little tighter at the loss but Jon only gently shushed you. “Lay down for me,” Trying to move to the main part of the bed he pulled you back by your hips, climbing up only enough to push you to lay down where you sat. Legs dangling off the side of the bed. “No, no, stay just like this, right here.”

Kissing your neck gently you couldn’t tell if he was trying to be soft with you or if this was just a true cruel tease to draw out on your body. “Jon,” Holding back a whine as he let his mouth trail back down to your breasts this time with more soothing presses of his lips and tongue to soothe the stinging bites he left. “Can I-”

“No.” Your eyes shot open in surprise, but he only moved finally down between your breasts to kiss along your sternum. His facial hair scratching along your skin, the rawness mixing with his gentle touch making you want to whine. Barley letting his lips leave your skin long enough to speak. “I don’t want you to do anything,” You could have cried a how lightly he ran his lips along the scar before pressing a kiss to the very top of your mound. “I just want to taste you.”

You swallowed heavily, his hands moving to your thighs as you felt a strange beating in your heart like nerves. “I don’t..why would you-”

Trying to soothe your nerves he rasped, “We’ve done this part before, darling.” You could remember the feeling, but it was so sudden, so animalistic you could barley comprehend it at the time in between the shock of him even standing before you. “Am I the only one to ever do this with you?” When you nodded, he kissed the same spot before kneeling on the ground where you could feel his breath between your legs.

Jon kept it to himself, but he felt proud of himself for still being able to find ways of being your first after all these years apart.

Slowly moving your legs to rest over his shoulders, Jon grasped at your hips to keep you steady before kissing a path up your inner thighs. One side, then the other as you let a needy whine out. Jon never once wavered, keeping his mouth always attached to something between your legs until a small kiss was left to your clit. The second you cried out at the feeling, the desire spilled over for him.

Jon sucking your clit with his own need this time, before moving to run his tongue flat down along your folds. Humming in his throat as he licked right back up as he held your arching hips in place. Eager brushes gently at your clit in between nibbling grasps between his teeth until you were shaking in around him and you were soaked from it. Those same gentle brushes of his tongue moved back down, and finally letting him move his mouth to your cunt as he wanted.

This time, it was a bit more as you recalled. His facial hair burning between your legs as he kissed and licked inside of you. Only instead of a starving, vicious wolf, he was licking and drinking everything you granted his mouth as if between your legs was treasured oasis crafted only for him.

Your head fell back into the sheets as you moaned, small whines along with it of his name as your hands grasped the sheets beside you. Between your own breathlessness, all that was heard in the room was the soaking sounds of Jon’s tongue inside of you.

Never rushing it, never even trying to push you to an orgasm. Only drinking between you with a slow, steady pace that had you trying to not let tears fall out from how good it felt. Letting a hand dance up to gently run though his hair, he held a bit tighter and made what felt like a vibrating growl into your cunt at the sensation you tested the waters and did it again, to the same reaction.

Moving your hips to pull more into his mouth you were almost lifted slightly above the sheets as you cried out, the core inside of you burned so hot and twisted so tight but he just kept such a slow pace, such a leisurely taste that it never reached it’s peak just when you thought it may.

Your breathing almost a faint hyperventilating as you almost couldn’t get any air he pulled it all right out with each brush of his tongue that ran along such sensitive walls. His nose nuzzling against your clit that had you cry much louder, back arching more but he just ran his tongue inside of you greedier then before.

This was for you, but it also was for him truly.

You weren’t really sure how long he kept you there, but it was a while. Quite a while, like he couldn’t stop himself from leaving between your legs. Each time you were poised at an orgasm he would pull back, slow down until you calmed down in his touch and once more his mouth would return to licking you back to that peak and take it away again. You already had lost count how many times he had done it.

It was long enough that even in the cold air, you felt a sweat forming over your body as you knew there too were tears at the side of your eyes spilling over. “Jon, please, gods please you’re so good..”

You weren’t even sure what you were saying but it made him shudder against you. Finally, in what felt like the slowest growth of your orgasm yet, this time as Jon’s mouth and tongue coaxed you to that edge he let you fall off it. Your core snapping with a pleasure of only his name and his arms keeping you pressed firmly against his mouth.

You writhed against him as the sparks jolted your entire body and he just kept between you, taking everything you gave him with greed until you were jumping at the stimulation. Finally, Jon pulled away, kissing your clit, then your mound and once more your scar before leaning up over you.

Hovering just above, his eyes were blown wide open and pitch black, his own lips swollen and soaked as just looked down to you. “Jon..please..kiss me?”

Eyes closing, he shuddered before shaking his head no. Swiftly moving up the bed, Jon pulled you into his arms, laying more on his side and keeping you cuddled into his chest while you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck. His voice was raspy and deep, northern accent strong and thick as it slurred together into your own neck. “If I kiss you now, I’m going to lose it.”

Running your hands through his hair, your brows narrowed. “It’s okay-”

“It’s not okay.” Sighing out as he clearly was trying to keep something contained as you only cuddled in his arms, him trying not to push you right back down and let his cock fill up your soaked cunt that very second. “Rest for me, darling. Just for tonight.” If he was talking to you or himself, it was difficult to tell as he mumbled into your hair, “I’ll always take care of you.”

It was easy to fall asleep in his arms. Jon was warm, and never once let you out of his grasp. Keeping you in a safe bubble only encompassed by him.

Jon wasn’t lying, he knew if he kissed you while you were bare in his arms, in a bed after already having spent well over two hours tasting you? He would have shoved you down onto the bed, spread your legs wide and fucked you deep, as many times as it took until he had absolutely nothing left to spill inside of you, but he wanted to take his time. He already took you like an animal, now he wanted to ease you back into it with a tenderness, with love.

Despite trying, he, himself didn’t sleep very much that night. It was hard to sleep when he was too busy enjoying how soft and pliable you were in his arms. In your sleep, your hand drifted up to rest along his heart and he pressed a hand there to hold you against him gently. Kissing your hair once more before giving himself a chance to at least try to get some sleep. One thing had not changed since your early years together at least.

It still took an immense amount of will power for Jon to treat you with a gentle innocence when you made the wolf in his blood run hot and possessive at all times.

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