#jon snow you will leave that wall TRUST

[throwawayasoiafaccount]

i’m honestly so surprised that ppl think that the seven kingdoms staying separate is a good idea or even close to george’s endgame.

just no. you are wrong :)

and tbh id be kind of disappointed in george if asoiaf ends and the free cities continue to remain separate.

but then i remember george is an incredible writer and his endgame will satisfy all the themes he’s been developing <3

yes i’m delusional i have faith that george will finish the series 💀

[fantasydreamland]

My Saviour

jon snow x fem reader

Summary: After escaping a wildling raid you find yourself being chased by a hungry wolf until a man of the Nights Watch rescues you. Your first night sleeping at castle black has you shivering to the bone until you seek warmth in your rescuer.

Notes: 18+ ONLY!!! some violence in opening story, smut, loss of virginity, p in v, fluff, some spoilers

word count: 3004

masterlist

You just barely escaped your village being raided by wildlings. You saw some others escape in the opposite direction while everyone else was slaughtered like animals. You sprinted as fast as you could into the woods after seeing your family killed before your eyes.

Once you managed to get far enough away to catch your breath you stop behind a tree, panting onto your frozen hands. A twig snaps and your eyes dart up to meet a pair of vicious golden eyes through the thick snow watching you from another nearby tree. The wolf growls and before you have time to think it sprints towards you. You let out an unintentional scream and bolt in the other direction trying to twist and turn through trees to throw it off your path.

Frozen tears run down your face and your skin screams from the frost bite as you run for your life. Eventually you are led to a small frozen river. You carefully step a foot onto the ice and it lightly cracks. You quickly remove your foot until you see the wolf turn from behind a tree and spot you. You hold your breath and quickly tiptoe along the cracking ice. The wolf chases after you but then stops dead at the edge of the ice as if it knows the danger.

Halfway to the other side of the lake you slip and smash into the ice scraping open your exposed skin and causing the ice to form a much larger crack. You freeze in horror as you watch the loud crack slowly expand.

“Here! Quickly!” You hear a man’s voice shout to you. He spots the wolf on the other side as it turns around and leaves.

You look up to see a very handsome man in all black jumping off of his horse and pulling off his large fur cloak. He throws one end of the cloak towards you to grab onto. You grab it tightly as he slowly pulls you towards him. Your mind was in such a state of shock you no longer felt the ice nipping at your skin as you slid against it.

You began to shuffle closer and the ice let out another loud crack.

“Careful.” The man’s wide eyes met yours, he looked nearly as scared as you. “Remain still, just let me pull you.”

You nodded and put your full trust in this total stranger as he carefully pulled you off the ice and lifted you to stand. You instantly begin to fall over, your frozen bones not able to hold you up any longer.

“Gods, you’re frozen.” the man says as he wraps the cloak around you and rubs your arms to try and warm you.

“Do you think you can get up?” He says gesturing his head to his horse.

You nod, unable to speak through the shivering. He puts a hand on your back as you put your foot through the stirrup. His strong hands grab your sides and lift you up onto the horse. He quickly gets on behind you. You sigh as his warmth radiates against your back, you couldn’t help but press into him.

His arms remain tightly around you as he rode quickly. To where? You didn’t know. But the man just saved your life, you couldn’t help but trust him.

“Thank you.” You choked out in a breathy whisper.

“Shh,” he said as his arms squeezed you tighter. “You’re safe now.”

**********

You barely remember the rest of the ride as you drift in and out of consciousness.

“Rider!” You heard a man yell far in the distance.

A loud horn blows and you open your eyes again. Your blurry vision adjusts to a giant wall of ice. The wall. This was Castle Black and this was a man of the Nights Watch. You felt slightly relieved as they’ve been known to protect the people against wildlings.

The large dark door began to creek open slowly. Finally, it loudly came to a halt and he rode in.

Your mind was too hazy to comprehend your surroundings. You could barely see the blurry visions of men dressed in all black through the snow. Soon you began to drift off again.

“Who is this?” You heard a man say.

“I don’t know. I heard a scream then I found her being chased by a wolf.” Your rescuers voice radiated against you as he held you in his arms. You couldn’t even remember him taking you off the horse. “She’s frozen half to death.”

“Bring her inside.” The other man said.

**********

The next time you awoke you felt much warmer. You open your eyes to see yourself in a bed of furs in a small dark room with a warm fire going. You look to your side to see the man watching you from a chair. He flinches when you make eye contact with him.

“I- I’m sorry I just wanted to make sure you were alright.” He says shyly. You give him a soft smile.

“Thank you.” You say quietly.

He nods. “Are… are you alright?”

“I think so…” you say unsure.

“Well, there’s a warm bath and fresh clothing waiting for you.” He gestures to a tub in the corner.

You sit up and hiss in pain. You suddenly became more awake and aware of the pain radiating throughout your entire body. The man jumps out of his chair to help you out of the bed.

“Thank you again, sir.”

“Jon,” he says. “Jon Snow.”

“Jon.” You smile at him as you take his hand. “I’m (y/n).”

He gives you a sweet smile. He helps you up and leads you to the tub.

“I’ll give you some privacy.”

“Could you…” you quickly say. “I don’t know if I can do this on my own right now…”

“Oh, um, yes. I can- I can help you, if you want.” He says timidly.

You nod and turn your back as he comes closer to you. He unties the strings of your tattered dress and his fingers brush against your skin causing electricity. He turns his gaze away as you slowly pull your dress off your body, leaving you fully exposed. Your heart races as he lends you his hand to hold while you step into the tub. Heat rises in his cheeks and it takes all his will power to not stare at your naked body.

Your weak arms shake as you lower yourself into the warm water. Your hand grasps on the edge of the tub as your other squeezes tightly onto Jon’s. The warm water soothes and stings your skin at the same time. You lean forward so all he can see is your bare back which was covered with cuts and bruises.

The air is tense as you both move in silence. He sits down on the stool beside the tub. He grabs a sponge and soaks it in the water before lightly wiping your back. You hiss and quickly he pulls away.

“It’s ok.” Your eyes meet his with a soft look.

He nods as he continues to gently wipe the dried blood from your skin. The tenderness of his touch makes you sigh. When he’s finished he grabs a small pale beside the tub and scoops up some water.

“Lean your head back a little.” He says almost in a whisper.

You do as he says and lean your head back. You close your eyes as he pours water over your hair. You sigh and lean more into his touch as his fingers work through your hair. The new angle giving him a slight view of your exposed breasts makes him nearly choke on air.

You turn your head and look into his eyes as he gently wipes the remaining blood from your face. The world felt still as you gazed at each other. Staring deep into each others eyes felt like you had known one another for a lifetime. He softly wipes the blood from your lip and couldn’t help but think of what it would be like to kiss them. He thought you were the most beautiful and intriguing woman he had ever seen.

“What happened?” He breaks the tense silence.

“Wildlings raided my village…” you said quietly, turning away and looking down into the water. “I barely escaped. I was running from them then suddenly I was running from a wolf chasing me… I don’t know how I’m still alive right now.”

“Did anyone else get away?” He asked.

You met his eyes. “Some. I saw people escaping the other direction.”

He nods, a sad expression on his face. “And your family?”

You shook your head looking back down.

“They could have escaped…” he says reassuringly.

“No.” You said flatly. “I saw the savages kill them.”

“I’m sorry.” He said lightly brushing your shoulder. Your breath catches at the touch.

Jon grabs you fresh robes and sets them on the stool before turning to help you up. You take both his hands as he lifts you from the water. The candle light illuminating your naked frame. He can’t help but glance at your wet body before meeting your eyes again, making you blush. He awkwardly looks to the side with red cheeks as you step out of the tub holding onto his hands. He passes you the robes to put on and steals one last glance of you from the corner of his eye.

“I’ll be in the room right next door if you need anything.” He says shyly.

“Thank you, Jon.” You stand near the bed as he heads towards the door.

“Goodnight (y/n).”

“Goodnight.” You say as he leaves the room and you crawl into bed.

**********

You wake in the middle of the night shivering. The fire was dull and the warm room turned cold. The wind whistled loudly from a storm raging outside. After trying hard to fall back asleep you give up and get up from bed, wrapping one of the furs around you.

You sneak out the door and into Jon’s room. Your heart stops and you gasp as your eyes connect with the red eyed white wolf laying next to Jon’s bed. You stumble back and bump into a table causing a clatter that wakes Jon.

“(y/n)?” Jon says hazily as he wakes up. He notices your terrified expression toward the wolf.

He gets out of bed revealing his exposed upper half which manages to distract your thoughts for a moment before you turn back to the wolf who was still laying down leisurely.

“I promise he won’t harm you. He’s not wild, I’ve had him since he was a pup.” He walks towards you and turns to the wolf. “Ghost, come.”

The wolf stands and slowly walks over causing you to stumble backwards again.

“Shh it’s ok, I promise. Here…” he says taking your hand.

You timidly move your hand with his towards the wolf. You held your breath as he sniffed your hand then gave you a small lick. Jon lets go of your hand as you continue to pet Ghost, all the fear easing away.

“He likes you.” Jon smiles.

You smile and stand as Jon opens the door for Ghost to leave. “Wait outside boy.”

He turns back to you, rubbing his bare arms as he starts to adjust from being out of his warm bed.

“Is something wrong?” He asks, slightly shivering.

“No, I just can’t sleep.” You say as you begin to shiver again too.

“The nights can get very cold here.” He says, noticing your obvious shivering. “We can share the bed… if you want.”

You looked at him for a moment and didn’t respond before walking past him toward the bed and slowly crawling under the furs. Your eyes met his and he followed as he also climbed under. The shivering did not stop and eventually your teeth began to chatter.

“Come here,” Jon said pulling you closer.

You let him pull you into his arms until he was cuddling you close. Your heart raced and you swear you could feel his racing against your back.

“I’m not hurting you am I?” He suddenly asks, remembering your injuries.

“Not at all.” You whisper back.

The room is still cold but the warmth of him behind you soothes some of the shivering. You shuffle closer into him but then freeze as you felt something hard pressed against you. You knew he noticed your reaction as you felt him also tense.

Your breath quickened and you didn’t know what to do. After a moment, you took a deep breath and relaxed against him. You feel him relax his arms before hugging you tighter. Although you managed to relax your body you were still filled with nerves. Pushing your fear away you boldly press yourself against him again, this time clearly intentional. Jon groans in your ear and pushes his member harder into your backside.

“Jon…” you breathe as he slowly begins kissing your neck while you grind against him.

You turn around to face him and your eyes meet full of bewilderment and lust. He takes your face in his hands and kisses you hard. His tongue demands entrance to your mouth and you happily oblige. He kisses you like it’s the last kiss he’ll ever have.

You pull him closer against you before your hand moves from his waist trailing down his torso. He gasps into the kiss as you lightly grab his hard member over his trousers. You reach for the strings of his pants but he quickly grabs your hand to stop you.

“I can’t…” Jon says with a pained look on his face, clearly not wanting to stop.

“Why not?” You whisper.

“I- I swore a vow. As a man of the Nights Watch.”

“Oh… They make you swear not to lay with a woman?”

“Something like that… we swear to never marry or father children.”

“So… you do not actually swear off of… sex.”

“Well I- Yeah… I guess not…” Jon furrows his brows at the realization.

Without another word he throws caution to the wind and reaches between you to pull the ties of your robe before pushing it off your shoulders. He grabs your breast and leans forward to put the other in his mouth making you let out a quiet moan. His lips make their way up your collarbone to your neck until they land back on your lips. His hand begins to explore your body until his fingers lightly brush against your most sensitive area causing you to gasp and break the kiss.

“Jon…” You sigh, “I have never…”

“Me neither…” he whispers back.

You smile and lean over to capture his lips again. This time he lets you pull the strings of his pants before he pulls them fully off. You barely get a glimpse of his lower half before he’s on top of you littering kisses all along your jaw and neck.

“Are you sure?” He whispers as you feel him rubbing his length against you.

The feeling makes your brain fuzzy and you quickly nod staring deep into his eyes.

“It is going to hurt… at first.” He says.

You nod again and he pushes into you making your jaw drop and your face scrunch in pain as you grab hard onto his biceps. He stops but you pull him closer signaling to keep going and you hear a low groan escape him as he pushes through. Once he’s fully inside you he stills. You pant through the pain as you adjust to him. He waits not just for your sake, but with the way you squeezed so tightly around him he was already struggling to not lose control and finish before this has even begun.

After another moment he begins to move slowly as your foreheads are pressed together. You breathe through the pain as it starts to fade. Your pained expression soon turns into pleasure and you’re suddenly desperate for more of him.

“Jon please… faster.” You whisper to him.

Without another word he starts thrusting faster into you until your moans begin to fill the room. He kisses you hard in a failed attempt to keep you quiet.

“Shh.” He smirks down at you, slowing his pace. “You are going to wake everyone up.”

“Sorry…” you whisper and giggle.

His speed picks up again and you bite your lip to hold try and hold back your loud moans. Your hands tangle into his curls and tug hard. He groans in your ear and gently bites your neck in response then kisses the tender spot. It becomes harder and harder to keep quiet as he slams into you harder and harder. You bite down on your lip so hard you thought it might bleed again. You gasp his name as the pressure in your belly builds. Every cell in your body ignites and you begin to see stars. Suddenly everything snaps and he quickly covers your mouth as you scream out. His thrusts become more sloppy as he quickly reaches his own peak and pulls out. He can’t stop himself from grunting loudly as he spills himself onto your stomach. In that moment his mind was so blurred by the feeling of you he completely forgot where he was. You nearly faint at the gorgeous sight of him above you as he came.

He crashes down beside you and reaches for a cloth before cleaning you up.

“You are going to wake everyone up...” You tease.

He chuckles, “I would be very surprised if we did not.”

“Well… at least I am no longer cold.” You give a shy smirk.

He smiles and kisses your temple before pulling you in close so you’re laying on his chest. You would face your problems in the morning. Right now you just savor the feeling of your saviours strong arms wrapped around you and his heart beating against your ear as you both drift off to sleep.

masterlist

[axelsagewrites]

Jon Snow x Wildling!reader; were she doesn't trust him at all and she's always going against him, bickering all the time...and it has smut maybe a more bottom!Jon who's at that point still not so experienced??? Lots of teasing on her side during the smut... :)

Jon Snow*MiLady

Pairing: Jon x F!Wilding!Reader

Platonic: reader x Ygritte, daughter!reader x Mance

Summary: Jon Snow found himself sharing a tent with a wilding girl who loved to rile him up

Warnings: swearing, smut, loss of virginity, praise kink, f receiving oral, piv sex think thats it?

Word count: 4800

Masterlist Here

Requests Open

If anyone but Ygritte had brought a crow into your camp, you would’ve been right beside your fellow free folk demanding he either be thrown out or killed. However lucky for her Ygritte she was your closest friend and the reason you were still alive. Something she reminded you of as people voted on how to handle the crow.

You found it amusing how he was so quick to bend the knee to a king he never met, especially one who wasn’t even the king. Tormund apparently looked more the king than Mance, something you knew he would brag about for weeks. The crow told Mance he wanted to be free, but you knew it was a lie and so did Mance. Your interest was peaked from the corner of the room as he began to describe Craster leaving his new-born son in the woods and what came for it.

This time when Mance asked him why he was really here Jon, you had learned his name, answer seemed to be sincere. “I want to fight for the side who fights for the living." He spoke.

Murmurs fell over the crowd as your fellow free folk debated whether he could be trusted. The better question was if he was worth the risk. You still didn’t move from your spot in the back corner, but you did look up, meeting Ygritte’s eyes. Her gaze was strong, and you could feel the threat behind it.

Mance debated Jon’s words in a few moments of silence before turning his head to face you, “And what say you (Y/N)?” Mance asked. This time the crows’ eyes fell on you.

They were soft behind the harden gaze. He had obviously seen so much already but you had seen more. You pushed yourself off the wall and walked closer to where the crow stood, his eyes not leaving you, but you now refused to meet his, instead keeping yours on Ygritte. “You brought me a crow?” you asked her.

Ygritte smirked, “I brought you Jon Snow,”

“I already have plenty of snow,” you said causing Tormund and others to snicker, “Do you talk to all the crows to decide if you should shoot them?”

Ygritte glared at you. You glanced at Jon who was now wrapped in even more confusion. Why was the king asking someone else’s opinion? Clearly, he was not a wildling. “You owe me,” Ygritte reminded you, ignoring your question.

Your eyes fell back on Jon Snow who stood up straighter under your gaze. You internally smirked at his actions. There was silence in the room as your eyes roamed the crow. Finally, you glanced at Ygritte one last time before walking back to your corner, “I say he can stay,” you said and Jon nodded at your words, attempting to speak but you cut him off, “For now,” you added.

Mance nodded at your words and turned to his lieutenant, “Get the boy a new cloak,”

The new cloak didn’t help much as no one could forget a face like Jon Snow’s. everywhere he walked in the camp the children would pelt him with snow. You laughed at the irony. Ygritte kept trying to stop them to little avail. She tried to scatter the children as they pelted him again when she spotted you laughing across the camp. Ygritte stalked over to you. “Can’t you help me get them to knock it off?”  

“Why would I do that?” you snorted at her question. You rolled your eyes as Jon rushed to catch up with his protecter. “He’s kind of like a dog,” you mused to her, but she just rolled her eyes.

“If you told them to stop, they’d have to,” she said ignoring your insult.

Jon had been in camp for only a couple of hours and clearly no one had explained anything to him, “So are you like the wildling queen?” he asked.

You grimaced at the suggestion, “Do you assume everyone is a king?”

Jon glared at your words, “That was an honest mistake,”

“Are all southerners so ready to bend the knee?” you asked with a smirk.

“I’m a northerner,” Jon spat.

You laughed as you began to walk away, Jon following behind you and Ygritte behind him, “A northerner who can barely walk in snow,”

“There’s like 9 inches of snow!” he shot back.

You couldn’t stop the laugh that shot out your lips as you turned to face him, “I’ll keep that in mind next time im cold, Snow,” you smirked.

Jon’s face flushed pinker than the cold had already nipped it, “I didn’t mean it like that! And you know it,”

“Are you always so miserable?” you asked, turning back to face where you were walking. You were walking to where some of your men were preparing hot stew, something you needed to help with the admittedly high snow.

Jon just sighed behind you and ignored your question. “So, what are you then? Queen, princess, general?” he asked.

“Why does it matter?” you asked as you got in line for stew, Ygritte cutting in front of you and Jon behind you.

“I want to know who I’m talking to,”

“Are you blind?” you snipped, growing hungrier by the minute. “Or just an idiot?”

“Are you?” Jon said, causing you to stop moving and turn to face him, “Why did Mance need your permission?” he asked.

You rolled your eyes, “He didn’t need my permission, just my opinion. Which by the way is usually right so don’t prove me wrong,”

“And why does your opinion matter to a king?” he asked as Ygritte walked away with her stew.

As you took the bowl from the man you turned to face Jon again. “His daughter,” you smirked, and you could see Jon’s face pale.

“So, you’re a princess?”

“Maybe to the south,” you said, “Here I’m his first man, his council. What you people call a hand,”

“My father was a hand,” he said as he reached for his own bowl of stew.

“I never asked,” you said as you stopped his hand, “Who said you could eat?” you asked, and Jon’s face fell.

His shock was quickly replaced by anger as he stomped to where Ygritte was sitting on a log. You laughed as you picked up his bowl before walking to join them. You held the bowl out to the crow who looked up at you with a cold stare. “I’m not that bad,” you shrugged, holding it out closer for him to take.

“How kind,” he said, rolling his eyes. You smacked the back of his head for that, “Hey!”

“Shut up,” you said as you reached into your pocket and pulled out the fabric you wrapped your spoons in. you passed Jon one without saying anything and he seemed shocked but less angry this time, “Eat,” you told him and finally he did.

After your food Jon stopped being your problem till the sun began to set. That’s when Ygritte approached you with her next problem, “Where’s the crow sleeping?”

“Fuck would I know?” you said. You were just about to go into your own tent when she had caught you. The day had been long, and Jon was far from your only problem. “Ask Mance,”

Jon stood a couple of feet behind Ygritte, “He said to ask you,”

“Ask Tormund,” you said as you rolled your eyes and went to walk into your tent, but she grabbed your arm to stop you.

“He said the same thing,” she smirked.

“You’ve got to be kidding me? How is the crow my problem now?” you asked.

Jon stomped closer to where you debated with Ygritte, “I’m right here you know,”

You held your hand up to him, motioning him to shut up as you continued talking to Ygritte, “Stick him in a spare tent,”

“No ones willing to give him one,”

You sighed knowing you wouldn’t have given him your peoples spare supplies either in their shoes. “Does he have furs?”

“Oh, aye I carried furs all the way from the wall encase I came to camp with yous,” Jon said.

You held back a laugh and kept an annoyed face on as best you could. Snarky Jon was better than formal Jon. “Can’t you keep him?”

“I share a tent with two other folk who’d skin him in his sleep,” she said, and you sighed knowing she was right, “What am I supposed to do with him?”

“Right fine fuck fine okay,” you said, running a hand through your hair, “Just fuck off and I’ll deal with it,”

“Thank you,” Ygritte yelled as she was already running away before she could change her mind.

You sighed and began to walk to go into your tent, “What about me?” Jon asked, rushing to follow.

“You have legs. Keep up,” you said as you entered your tent, holding the flap open for him to get in. “Hurry up im cold,”

“Oh, so wildings do get cold,” Jon smirked as you began to secure the tent entrance shut to block out the harsh wind.

“Do you want to sleep in the snow?” you asked as you turned to face him. He just rolled his eyes in response. You ignored him as you began to light a couple candles to light the dim tent. “You can borrow my spare furs. Don’t ruin them crow,” you warned.

 “Don’t worry your precious furs are fine with me milady,” he said as he looked around the tent.

You grabbed one of your furs and threw it at him, “Don’t call me that,” you said.

“What?” he asked, “Milady? Are you not a princess milady? Do you have another title milady? What would milady like?”

“Milady would like you to shut the fuck up,” you almost yelled as you sat on your own pile of furs that acted as a bed and began to remove your cloak, flinging it into the corner of the tent.

Jon laughed as he internally celebrated his mini win before he looked around the tent awkwardly, “Where am I supposed to take these?”

You looked up at him, eyebrows knitting in confusion as you took off your boots, “You’re sleeping in  here. With me. Unless you’d prefer the snow?”

“I don’t think your father would- “

“I am his daughter not his possession,” you said as you finally got your second shoe off. “and if its my honour your worried about just know us free folk have another definition of honour,”

“And what’s that?” Jon asked.

You stood up from the furs and grinned, “Well part of it is you not killing me in my sleep. At least wake me up first,” Jon just grumbled something under his breath, and you rolled your eyes, “Are you gonna stand there all night? Get ready for bed dumbass,” you said.

“Fuck off,” Jon said; however, he did as he was told as he laid his furs on the ground and began to take his cloak and boots off.

You ignored the crow as you began to fix your hair for bed. You looked down to where Jon was getting under the furs with his clothes still on, “Are you that cold?” you asked.

“What?” Jon asked but a blush fell on his face as you began to remove your outer layers. “Oh,”

You grinned as you stripped down to a lose long shirt you wore under your other clothes. “I forgot you crows didn’t do the whole sex thing,” you said. Jon avoided looking at you as you sat on your furs, deliberately not going under them. The shirt covered your torso and tops of thighs but apparently your legs were too scandalous for him, “Relax, we’re not having sex. I know you crows don’t have it in you,” you laughed.

“I could!” he protested, his eyes flashing to meet yours then quickly moving away, “But I took a vow saying I wouldn’t take a wife,”

“Who said anything about marriage?” you asked.

Jon rolled his eyes as he began to shed his own outer layers. You kept your eyes on him, smirking as he flushed under your gaze, “Can I help you?” he asked as he took his tunic off.

“You already said no to that,” you grinned, and his flush only depend. “Have you ever had sex?” you asked as you decided to retreat under your furs.

Finally, Jon could look at you without going red, “I made a vow- “

“I meant before that,”

“I was just a boy then,” Jon said who was now in just an under shirt and pants. He climbed under his furs you had gave him as you watched, “Why are you staring at me?”

You laughed at him as he scowled, “Never seen a crow without his clothes on,” you said, “Not half bad,” you laughed as you took the under shirt you had on off, puling the furs up to cover yourself, “Not as good as a wilding though,”

Jon rolled his eyes, but his face was red after he noticed you were now naked in the tent, “Of course you’d say that”

“Want me to prove it?” you offered, sitting up more so the furs slipped down slightly.

Jon blushed more, “No I believe you,” he stammered.

“Do yous not sleep naked?” you asked, deciding to give him some mercy.

Jon laid down, turning to face you on his side still a couple of feet apart. “Some do I suppose. Im always scared someone will walk in,”

“No one will walk into this tent,” you assured him.

Jon snorted, “What? Would Mance kill them?” he asked.

You pulled the dagger out from under your furs, “No, I would,” you grinned, and you saw a look of fear and impress fall on his face. “Don’t worry. I don’t want to get blood on my good furs,”

Jon rolled his eyes before turning to face the other wall. You grinned as you settled down to sleep. However, sleep did not come. Despite the furs you had you felt the chill as a storm seemed to be over the camp. The frigid air beat the side of the tents and whistled in the wind. You had decided to not blow out two candles so you could make sure the crow wasn’t planning to kill you, but it now helped you ask you rolled over to see Jon shivering in his furs.

Admittedly you had gave the boy one of the more scraggily ones and he only had one while you had several. You could tell by the cold he would not be asleep and was merely making. You sighed as you sat up, keeping the furs covering your chest, “You cold?” you asked, already knowing the truth.

“Why do you care?” he asked, not opening his eyes.

You sighed as you moved some of the furs around, “Get under,” you told him and this time Jon opened his eyes, “Toss that one on top and come on,”

“What?” Jon asked as he sat up in his own makeshift bed.

“You’re shivering so much your teeth are gonna break. Get under the furs,” you told him. Jon seemed to debate it, “Your southern honour doesn’t apply here. Get under the furs,” you commanded him.

This time Jon seemed to listen. He got up and quickly fling the fur he had on top of the pile you had on you, and shimming in in between your pile of furs, “I’m not a southerner,” he protested as he joined you in the furs, letting out a sigh as the warmth surrounded his body.

He accidentally nudged into you, and you yelped at his cold skin, “Your like ice!” you squealed.

Jon grinned as he rolled over to face you, “More like snow,” he said. You rolled your eyes, telling him to fuck off under your breath and in response Jon pressed one of his icy hands to your waist.

You squirmed under his touch as he laughed at your yelping. His hands were probably colder than the ice outside but despite this you still wanted his hand on your waist. He pressed the back of the other to your cheek, “You’re playing a dangerous game snow,” you warned him, teeth chattering.

“And whys that?” he asked. Gods was that smirk attractive.

You grabbed the wrist by your face and pushed it back while grabbing the other off your waist, forcing him onto his back with his hands pinned by his head, “I’m quicker,” you smirked. You were now straddling the crow’s waist, your chest exposed and only inches from his. The way his breath caught in his throat and his eyes widened made your grin grow. “Crow got your tongue?” you asked.

“You might be quicker but I’m stronger,” Jon stuttered out.

However, he made no attempt to make you move which only made you laugh, “So you’re choosing to have a naked woman on top of you. How dishonourable of you Jon Snow,” you tutted.

Jon scowled up at you, “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said and this time you laughed loudly causing his face to go red.

Your laughter stopped when the bastard flipped you onto your back, your legs now wrapped around his waist as he held himself above you. Jon now had your own wrists pinned above your head, allowing you to look down to see his body above you. The nightswatch did something right you had to admit when you saw how toned he was from what his undershirt revealed.

Your eyes scanned over him deliberately slowly before meeting his eyes. “I could get used to this crow,” you said before wrapping your legs tighter around your waist, you pulled him closer causing you to rub against his crotch which you could feel hard against you. You saw his face flush as you chuckled, “You might have honour but he,” you said, grinding against the crow again, “does not,”

“Shut up,” Jon grumbled as he avoided your gaze, but he made no attempts to remove your legs.

You removed your legs from around his waist, causing him to finally glance down at you, “If you want me to stop, I’ll stop,” you said and once again he looked away like a scared puppy, “but no one but us has to know what happened in this tent,” you finished.

Jon looked down at you, his eyes filled with desperation and longing, “Can I kiss you?” he finally asked.

This time your smile was gentle as you pulled your hand free of his before pulling his head closer to yours and placing your lips onto him. Despite loving to tease you could tell how nervous the boy was, so you started the kiss slow, unsure if he had ever kissed anyone before this. His lips were far gentler than any wildings and his hair was soft in your grip.

You tugged gently on his curls causing him to moan against your mouth. You took the opportunity to slip your tongue into Jon’s mouth who gladly let you. You felt his tense body relax against your touch as he rested more of his weight on you.

His arms rested beside either side of your head to keep him up. Taking on of his hands, you brought it down your body, placing his hand on your breast. You could sense his nerves and pulled back slightly, laughing gently, “You can touch me, I don’t bite,” you said, pressing another small kiss to his lips before adding, “much,”

Jon didn’t argue with your smarminess this time and instead gently squeezed where you had placed his hand before diving back into your lips, desperate for your touch. Your other hand slipped away and began to roam down his chest then down his body, feeling his abs underneath his shirt and causing him to shiver.

Then you moved your hand down lower, playing with the band of his under clothes. You felt his stomach tense again under your touch. “I have an idea,” you told him before flipping him back onto his back before he could protest. With his hips under yours, you grinded down onto his hard member causing Jon to groan and his eyes to flutter shut, “We’ve barely even started and look at you,” you cooed down at him.

Jon tried to argue but you rolled your hips against his again and another moan fell out his pretty lips. “Do it again,” he begged. You complied once more before stopping, moving your hands to pull of his shirt so you could trace his abs, “Please,” Jon begged again.

“You’re cute when you’re desperate,” you told him before your eyes flickered back to his body. You trailed your hands over his chest, and you felt Jon buck his hips into yours. In response you lifted your hips up away from his, “You need to be patient,” you warned the crow, “Im much nicer to boys who listen,”

“I’m not a boy,” Jon argued, and you smirked at his words.

Brushing the hair out his face, you looked down at him as he glared at you, “Prove it,” you told him before pressing your hips down, grinding into him again causing him to moan louder this time, “Men don’t beg for me to do this,” you said as you continued rolling your hips against him, “They beg for much more,”

“Please,” Jon begged, his hands moving to grab your hips which you decided to allow, enjoying how they dug into your flesh, “I want to feel you,”

“But do you deserve it?” you asked, still rolling your hips against him, trying to ignore the wet spot that was growing against him and wetting his underclothes.

Jon let out a whine when your hips met his again, “I’ll listen I promise. I promise I’ll be good,” the way he shamelessly begged to be touched made you want to tease him more, but you were afraid he wouldn’t last long enough for it to be worth it.

You hummed at his words, your fingers trailing down his body before arriving at the hem of his remaining clothes. You leant down to press a kiss to his throat as you slid the clothes down his legs. Jon quickly shimmed them off. Now you could see his hard cock that was already red and dripping with precum.

Jons hips bucked as you took his member into your hand, running your thumb over the top. “If you don’t keep still ill stop,” you warned, and Jon did his best to comply as you slowly began to pump your hand up and down. He began to whimper under your touch, begging under his breath to feel you. You moved up to hover over his cock again, running its tip over your wet folds, “Beg me,” you said.

Jon cursed under his breath, his eyes rolling back at the sensation of you against him, “please,” he whimpered, “please just-fuck,” Jon gasped as you sunk down onto him, his eyes screwing shut.

You gasped yourself as you took him in, he was bigger than you had expected. Giving yourself a moment to adjust, you rested your hands on his abs to keep yourself up. Once you began to feel more comfortable you began to roll your hips again, feeling him move deeper into you as you did. “Fuck you feel so good,” you praised, hands gripping onto him. Jon was still moaning under neath you, but you saw a bashful smile cross his lips when you complimented him. “You like that?” you asked moving faster, “Like when I tell you how good you are?”

“Mhmm,” Jon agreed as he let out a string of shameless moans.

You moved your hand to grab his, pulling it up to grab your chest, “Are you scared to touch me crow?” you asked as you used your hands to move his.

“I’m not scared,” Jon said, his breath shaky.

This just made you grin, “Not scared him?” you said, “What pretty noises you're making for me… am I making you feel good?" you asked, and you felt Jon twitch inside you.

You began to roll your hips slower but deeper, feeling yourself hit off his pubic bone, “Fuck please don’t stop,” Jon moaned.

“Aw is the crow gonna cum?” you asked, grabbing his jaw before leaning down to kiss it all while your hips still rolled against his. “You’re such a mess right now you know that?”

“I don’t care,” he stuttered, his breath beginning to catch in his throat.

You continued to leave kisses along his jaw line and neck. “It’s hot when you talk back to me,” you said, your lips grazing his ear before giving it a quick bite.

“You said you don’t bite,” Jon moaned.

“But you like it don’t you?” you said, biting his jaw gently causing him to moan. “You’re so pretty like this,” you said, sitting back up to allow yourself to move your hips better. You sped up you’re bouncing, and you felt Jon squeeze your tits tighter and his cock twitching more.

“I’m gonna,” Jon started to saw, his hips rutting up against yours. You sped up slightly, wanting to savour your last few pumps, before quickly pulling off him. Jon whined but your hands instantly replaced your cunt and within two strokes he had came all over his stomach as you rested over his thighs. “Fuck,” Jon panted as he tried to catch his breath.

You laughed as you fell over to lay beside him, also out of breath. “Maybe you’re not so bad after all,” you said as Jon whipped his stomach off with a cloth you passed him.

“Is that so?” Jon asked, throwing the cloth to the side, “What about you?” Jon asked as he rolled over to face you.

“What about me?” you asked.

Jons hand trailed over your thighs, his fingers mere inches away from your wet cunt, “You didn’t, you know,” he said, his cheeks flushing.

“It’s okay I don’t mind,” you told him as you went to push his hand away.

Jon gripped your thigh to stop you, “But I wanted you to,” he pouted.

You raised an eyebrow at the man, “What did you have in mind?” you asked.

Jon trailed his fingers closer to your core which was beginning to feel so empty without him in it, “My watch brothers told me about this thing you do to women to make them,” Jon began to stammer out his words. “You know,”

“You want to make me cum,” you confirmed, and Jon gave you a sheepish nod. You laid back into your furs, settling yourself in. “Show me what how the crows do it,” you told him.

Jon hesitated for a second before he began to shuffle down, his head disappearing under the furs. Your eyebrows scrunched up in confusion, but a moan ripped through your throat as Jon placed a kiss to your cunt. The wildings didn’t do it like this. You couldn’t see his face, but you knew he had to be smirking as he began to lick a stripe up your cunt. He began soft at first before he began to lap up your juices, his tongue massaging your core. You didn’t stop the moans as he continued to kiss and lick you.

Then you felt his fingers tease your hole and you felt a knot tighten in your stomach as they slipped into you. Jons tongue trailed up to focus on placing sloppy kisses to your clit as his fingers pumped in and out of you. You moaned his name when you felt his fingers curl inside you. Your skin felt hot as his face was buried in your cunt, his spare hand gripping your thighs.

Your hands were knotted in his curls, keeping his face where you needed him. The knot in your stomach tightened with every curl and pump of his fingers. The pressure continued to build as he kissed your clit before taking it in his mouth and lightly sucking it. the feeling sent you over the edge. You gripped his hair even tighter as you rode out your orgasm on his tongue which never stopped till you let go of his hair as you began to come down from your peak.

“Why so quiet now?” Jon teased as he came out from under the furs, his face soaked with your juices.

You were almost gasping for breath as you pulled the furs to cover you, “Is that how the lords please their lady’s?” you asked him.

Jon grinned at you, placing a kiss to your cheek, “I’m not sure,” he confessed, “I just wanted to kiss you there,”

[jonsnowunemploymentera]

Screaming at Jon Snow's reputation being in shambles worldwide like Planetos seriously beefing with a depressed teen loser

At the wall

Ser Alliser Thorne shattered the silence. “The turncloak graces us with his presence at last.” Lord Janos was red-faced and quivering. “The beast,” he gasped. “Look! The beast that tore the life from Halfhand. A warg walks among us, brothers. A WARG! This … this creature is not fit to lead us! This beastling is not fit to live!”

In the Riverlands

“I will permit you to take the black. Ned Stark’s bastard is the Lord Commander on the Wall.” The Blackfish narrowed his eyes. “Did your father arrange for that as well? Catelyn never trusted the boy, as I recall, no more than she ever trusted Theon Greyjoy. It would seem she was right about them both. No, ser, I think not. I’ll die warm, if you please, with a sword in hand running red with lion blood.”

Lowkey in KL

“Another problem has arisen on the Wall, however. The brothers of the Night’s Watch have taken leave of their wits and chosen Ned Stark’s bastard son to be their Lord Commander.” “Snow, the boy is called,” Pycelle said unhelpfully. [...] Catelyn Tully was a mouse, or she would have smothered this Jon Snow in his cradle. Instead, she left the filthy task to me. “Snow shares Lord Eddard’s taste for treason too,” she said. “The father would have handed the realm to Stannis. The son has given him lands and castles.”

In Braavos

But they were all dead now, even Arya, everyone but her half-brother, Jon. Some nights she heard talk of him, in the taverns and brothels of the Ragman’s Harbor. The Black Bastard of the Wall, one man had called him.

It was bad for him

[dipperscavern]

Hello Dippers!! Hate to be that bitch asking for more but could I do a potion brewing with Jon Snow and Bolton Reader??

Sincerely, *THE* Bolton Reader who adores you dearly <33

i live breathe sleep and eat bolton!reader, thank u for the ask!! i adore u!! <3

i think jon’s biggest pet peeve is when people assume you’re stupid. sometimes people can be dickheads, and you just embrace yourself — silliness and whimsy and all, and that doesn’t make you stupid. jon knows you like nobody else does, and he knows how skilled you are. people do the same thing with sam, and it drives him up the walls. jon is very passionate about this, and very defensive of you especially in that regard.

you’re very skilled with a sword. your father always made sure you were not only able to defend yourself, but exceeded expectations. you were always better than ramsay, but you never let him know that. if you showcased it, and ramsay found out how good you actually were, he’d see you as a challenge. you already had what he didn’t — legitimacy, so you had to be very careful around him. but, you made sure ramsay knew somewhat of your skill, and this helped him see you as a sort of equal (plus, your father made it clear you were off limits)

and i think growing up in the dreadfort with your father and ramsay is part of the reason you’re the way you are. for so long you were on the defensive, always tiptoeing around ramsay, having to treat him as a constant threat 24/7 etc etc. so when you get to castle black, and you’re free to be yourself, you don’t try to hide anything. you’ve been hiding all your life.

you embrace the mud, catch frogs, pick up all the insects and reptiles everybody else is weary of. you’re incredibly funny, and can be found at the center of attention most times (you flourish under it). there’s not many who dislike you, because you’re the one who keeps up morality when things get tough. no matter what happens, somehow, you’re still you. you’re smiling and tripping over your own feet, pointing out how that cloud looks like the late king robert’s backside — saying you’re so hungry you could eat a horse, then turning to the nearest horse and saying “sorry, darling, don’t mind me”

(somehow) you’re very good at giving orders. jon can trust you to lead men into battle, even if you dedicate the cause you’re fighting for to the frogs (you really, really like frogs)

and, naturally, you’re the best tree climber they’ve got. it comes in very useful for scouting, and even more useful when you play hide and seek with kids (you never let them win)

jon love love loves the small conversations with you late at night, when you’re combing the leaves from your hair and recounting how you spooked podrick so badly he fell into and took down his own tent. you always giggle when telling that story

and one of jon’s favorite things about you is how you always smile into the kiss whenever he kisses you. you can’t help it, he’s just so lovely :3

[agentrouka-blog]

"The mountain is your mother", Stonesnake had told him during an easier climb a few days past. "Cling to her, press your face up against her teats, and she won't drop you." Jon had made a joke of it, saying how he'd always wondered who his mother was, but never thought to find her in the Frostfrangs."

jon, a clash of kings

Maybe not as neat of a parallel, but it reminds me of Mya and Sansa's conversation in affc

Mya shook her head. "I remember a man throwing me in the air when I was very little. He stands as tall as the sky, and he throws me up so high it feels as though I'm flying. We're both laughing, laughing so much that I can hardly catch a breath, and finally I laugh so hard I wet myself, but that only makes him laugh the louder. I was never afraid when he was throwing me. I knew that he would always be there to catch me." She pushed her hair back. "Then one day he wasn't. Men come and go. They lie, or die, or leave you. A mountain is not a man, though, and a stone is a mountain's daughter. I trust my father, and I trust my mules. I won't fall." She put her hand on a jagged spur of rock, and got to her feet. "Best finish. We have a long way yet to go, and I can smell a storm." (AFFC, Alayne II)

Bastards children compensating for the inaccessible safety net of trueborn family with a connection to the natural world around them, carving a place for themselves through skill and pragmatic self-confidence.

Jon will go on to almost anthropomorphize the Wall too ("the Wall defends itself"), but unlike Mya, he knows nothing of his true parents and the speech is not his own mantra but kindly meant advice. Family is a fluid construct, sometimes.

Mya's speech may specifically exist to remind us of Jon Snow, who will be able to lean on his mother's family to hold him close once he finds out her identity. Robert never pleaded for Mya. Lyanna dedicated her last living moments to ensuring her son's safety. Jon has always wondered who his mother is. He won't need a mountain in the Frostfangs to take her place.

[countrymusiclover]

41 - No Longer A Bastard

Part 42

The Lion Knight and Dragon Princess

Tags- just send an ask to be added @cdragons @kmc1989 @starkleila @noirrose21-blog @lover-of-books-and-tea

“No! Father, please don't do this.” I screamed thrashing underneath his strong arms when he had me smashed up against the stone wall smelling of flames meaning he must have executed another Hand who he believed was against him. 

My father Aerys II had his hands on either side of my head trapping me in between the wall and his body before he began tearing parts of my dress. “You’re mother can’t be trusted anymore.  And I need another heir that you will give to me.” 

“But I’m your daughter.” I gulped trying to push him away with my hands against the front of his chest when he began shifting his clothing downward until he was yanked backwards by smaller hands. 

“Get your hands off of her, Aerys!” 

I gasped seeing my mother holding him back away from me as best as she could since he was a lot stronger than she was. “Mother!” 

“Jaime, get her out of here now.” She didn’t speak to me and rather called to the golden knight that had come running down the hall with her.  He had been escorting her to a new room when he was paranoid that she’d hurt me so we were on the opposite sides of our own home. 

Jaime moved around where she stood gently taking a hold of my forearm, beginning to lead me away from them till I attempted to get away from him. “Mother! Wait, let go of me.  Urgh! We can’t just leave her - Jaime, help her.” 

“Vaella, I can’t.  She commanded that I look after you.  I - I can’t use my sword against my sworn King.” Jaime tightened his grip, spinning me back so his hands were holding me by my shoulders. 

I heard my father shout at her before she whimpered, getting dragged into the available chamber room. “Aerys!” 

“But he’s - he’s going to hurt her.  You’ve seen the bruising.” I felt tears falling down my face, hating to see my mother be treated by here husband that way and it made it even worse that he was also her brother who was treating her so harshly. 

Jaime touched the side of my face and I leaned into his palm. “I’m so sorry, princess.  But it’s her way of protecting you.” He noticed that the tears got heavier so he wrapped his arms around my waist bringing me against his embrace. 

“If I ever have kids I’ll never force them to marry their own siblings.  It leads to too much cruelty.” Burying my face into his armored chest holding onto him as closely as possible just heavy sobbing. 

Standing on the edge of the snowy mountain near Winterfell with my horse standing off to the side while I heard the sound of the dragons flying towards our direction.  My sister looked down at me while she dove down and landed her dragon a few steps away from me.  She slowly slides down one of her dragon's wings walking over to me. “You coming up here to fly one of my dragons, sister?” 

“Not exactly.  I’m good with just having one dragon to ride for my entire life.  But I do have something to talk with you about though.” I shake my head no with the wind blowing my white cloak around behind me. 

Daenerys clasped her hands together in front of her chest. “What do you want to talk about, Vaella?” 

“Now that we both know about who Jon Snow really is I was thinking he shouldn’t have to have a bastard title anymore.  He deserves to be part of our Targaryen family and show the world that the three of us are nothing like our father Aerys II Targaryen was.  Regardless of us coming from the bloodline of who we all called The Mad King.” 

She smiled, completely agreeing with my idea. “I think that’s a brilliant idea, sister.” 

“I’ll tell Tyrion and Missandi to gather everyone.  Sansa as well.  Then we also need to discuss the plan to remove Cersei from the throne.” I reminded her even though I knew she hadn’t forgotten about the original goal that had brought us together now that they army of the dead was gone forever. 

Once all the lords loyal to me, Jon, Sansa and my sister Daenerys began gathering into the main throne room with me standing beside my sister in the center of the room at the front of the crowd.  Jaime was standing off to the side with our four children huddled behind him seeing Jon move up to us. “Your graces, what is going on here?” 

“We have thought about it and we think it’s time you let the world know who you really are.  You are of our blood, the blood of the dragon.” Daenerys declared, causing everyone in the room who didn’t already know to gasp in utter shock. 

Lord Glover shifting his gaze directly at me. “He’s Ned Stark’s bastard, not a Targaryen one.” 

“His real father was our brother Rhaegar Targaryen and his mother was the late Lyanna Stark.  The Dragon Prince and the North She-Wolf were his parents.  And I know what you all are thinking about the rumors of Rhaegar kidnapping her except that wasn’t the truth.  He truly loved her and our brother would have given up his crown for her.” I slowly walked to the center of the room removing my sword and aiming it at Jon Snow but everyone could see in my eyes that I had no desire to hurt him.  “You named him the King in the North because you believed in him.  He united us all to face the White Walkers and Night King so this shouldn’t change how you view him now.  He is still the man you have sworn your sword to!” 

Daenerys clasped her hands together eyeing me for a second. “My sister knows quite a lot more about your values since she received a formal education of the noble houses.  But she speaks about what is the right path for us as the rulers of the Seven Kingdoms.   So Jon Snow will you kneel before your Queen and let me make you a true born lord?”

“I am truly honored your graces, but I don’t want to be a Targaryen.” Jon looked between me and my younger sister. 

Daenerys raised a brow not offended but curious. “I take no offense to your words.  But can you inform me why you don’t wish to be named a Targaryen?” 

“I wasn’t raised as one.  I was raised as a Stark.  The northern ways of life are all I’ve known and for that I wish to have the Stark name.” Jon responded resting one hand on the handle of his sword. 

“Then kneel before me, Jon.  Provide me with your sword if you please.” I slid my sword back into my holder holding out my hand for him.  He placed his blade into mine, lowering himself down on a knee directly in front of me.   Slowly moving his sword over one shoulder then the other before I declared his name change to everyone.  “All hail his lordship Jon of House Stark, first of his name, Warden of the North and claimed King in the North.  Rise, lord Stark.” 

“All hail Jon of House Stark!” Daenerys declared, causing everyone in the room to join in behind her. 

“All hail Jon of House Stark!”

Jon rose up from the stone floor bowing his head at me placing his sword back onto his hip. “Vaella, you trusted me with this great dagger.  But it doesn’t belong to me.  It belongs to the true ruler of the Seven Kingdoms who brought dragons back to our lands…it belongs to you Dany.” He brushed past me till he was standing before her, holding Aegon the Conqueror's dagger out for her to take. 

“The prophecy has been passed down from King to heir for so long and none of them have figured out who it rightfully belonged to, who would figure out the Conqueror's dream of the great winter that would destroy the world of men.” Taking my sister’s hands in mine she gave me a confused look. 

She shakes her head. “I’m afraid I don’t understand, Vaella.” 

“You are the one the dagger belongs to.  You were a Targaryen who walked into a fire with three stones and walked out unharmed with three baby dragons.  You have fought the greatest enemy of ice , the Night King and brought them against the greatest power of fire, your dragons.  A song of Ice and Fire, it is not the Prince that was Promised.  Yet the Princess that was Promised and it is you Daenerys Targaryen.” 

Daenerys takes the dagger from Jon’s hand turning it over and back in her hand simply staring at it for a few minutes.  She locked her gaze with mine intensely holding my hand in her other one. “I was born to rule the Seven Kingdoms and I will, but not alone.  You shall forever be known as the Queen who found the houses of Old Valyria and for that we shall rule side by side.” 

Looking over my shoulder at my husband he sent me a proud grin crossing the room.  Removing my hand from my sister’s he revealed the gray crown from behind his back. “What is a Queen without a crown?  My Queen, Vaella.” He gently sat the crown on my head with a grin still plastered across his face. 

“We fight for our Queens!” Jon drew out his sword, raising it up in the air. 

Daenerys raised the dagger up in the air. “We will remove Cersei Lannister and break the wheel of power that comes with her!” 

“We will take the Iron Throne without bloodshed!” I drew my sword away from my hip and up into the air seeing everyone else who had a blade followed our actions and declared the words Queens of the Seven Kingdoms. 

[sugutoad]

matchup trade for @coffeebooksrain18

GAME OF THRONES MATCHUP

I ship you with JON SNOW — or perhaps we should Aegon Targaryen or the Prince who was promised? His sense of loyalty and protection of his loved ones aligns with your giving nature (and your want of being loved and protected). He is often judged and misunderstood because of his bastard nature and I think a part of you is able to understand that with how often you are perceived as cold hearted and mean, despite your sweeter nature. Jon’s ability to stay grounded in situations can easily soothe your anger. Also you have a dog and love animals? Jon cares so much for his own direwolf, Ghost, and I think he would be the sweetest to your own dog.

RUNNER UPS: ROBB STARK

HEADCANONS

When you arrived with your brother, Theon, you had been terrified. But you still kept your head up for Theon because even though he was older, he can not, absolutely can not, see you in a sight of distress. Theon was soft hearted beneath that false demeanor of strength and you needed to protect him. But when you arrived in Winterfell, Ned Stark was quite… well, fatherly to you and Theon. You had expected to be a servant of House Stark, but they treated you as one of their own (you were still not use to the lack of attention because back home, you had been the youngest and your father’s favorite for you favored your dead mother in terms of appearance). To your joy, Theon quickly became friends with Robb, a boy a few years younger than him, but he was the same age as you. But you felt distant. You didn’t know if you should fully trust them and Sansa was far younger than you and you had nothing in common with Robb, who preferred your brother. But Jon came and he stayed. While he was close to his siblings, he was in a similar distant position and now that Robb had Theon, he did not pay much attention to Jon. He was quickly in love with not you, but your dog! You found him hovering over Willow and from their, your friendship had blossomed. The two of you stayed closely with one another, never leaving one another. Well, until he had to leave for the Wall. To say you were upset was an understatement. You wanted to scream at him. To run away with him. To kiss him. Why did Jon need to leave? He claims that he has nothing here, but he has you!

He was a bit awkward at first. His last lover died and he had not spent much time with her. But because of the harshness of his life now, he had lost that childless in him. But when he is with you, he finds it again with soft chuckles and boyish grins. He does not mind physical touch, but he hates showing it off to people. Everyone should know that you belong to him with out the two of you jumping down one another’s throat. But in privacy, he wants nothing more, but to hold you near him. You have been gone for too long and he wants to back near him. He needs you back near him. For he does not know if he could ever take another breath without your presence for you are in every one of his thoughts and in every corner of each hall he walks in. As I mentioned earlier, he is not a fan of PDA, but he will occasionally hold your hand under the table, steal heartfelt glances and once, he kissed your forehead before leaving and the room turned to face you, a small smile on your face as Jon left the room (leaving you to fend off for yourself once they began teasing you!)

He would be so attentive to you! While you are a straightforward person, sometimes people might ignore your words, thinking they are too harsh. But not Jon. He appreciates your honesty more than anything. He will listen to all your opinions, complaints, and your passionate conversations about the history of the Dragons and the Dance of Dragons (he was a person who supported Rhaenyra while you were with Aegon, leaving the two of you to sit down for hours trying to prove your points. You both are equally stubborn and refused to be pushed down!)

“WE DO NOT SOW”

You are a member of House Greyjoy. Like the Ironborns, you are not afraid to carve out your own path. The Greyjoys are known to have harsh natures and it is true in one way or another. For you, it is you blunt honesty and straightforward nature that may appear harsh to some — Your ability to say what others might shy away from fits right in with the Greyjoy approach to life—brutal honesty over polite niceties. Similar to your siblings, Theon and Asha, you have a strong demeanor, but there is a softness in you that they have. You have a stubborn soul like every Greyjoy — you are determined to do or say what you believe in. Since you love dark rooms, I had a small feeling that you may have an affinity for the unknown and that is a perfect phrase to describe the sea! I think you would thrive in their environment.

Ship Tropes

‘I promise’ (Jon) x ‘You are a liar’ (You)

Childhood friends to lovers

Stoic and Moody (Jon) x Light hearted and Kind (You)

Ship Song

The Night We Met by Lord Huron

All of You by John Legends

MOONBOARD

[pastanest]

Jon Snow x gender neutral!reader

Snow

It is a day like many others, spent roaming the godswood with your dearest friend and missing piece of your soul, Jon Snow. Almost everyday of your lives since you met, you have come here. While still safe in the walls of Winterfell, it is distanced enough from everyone within to feel like an escape, a little world that just the two of you are safe to exist in. Having spent your childhoods and early teenage years walking these woods, you know almost every tree, every flower, every kind of animal that roams this wilderness; it is more of a home than the very structures you live in, but that is due to the presence of the other, not the place itself. 

Jon walks a few feet behind you, watching adoringly as you step up onto a fallen log and walk across it, carefully balancing yourself with your arms outstretched. Rushing to your side, Jon takes a hold of your hand, assisting you in walking to the end. 

“You know, Jon, as much as your namesake has been used as an insult more than anything else, I have never thought of it as such.” Your words are thoughtful, and Jon senses there are more to come.

“No?” He encourages, smiling up at you and the focussed expression on your face.

“No. The word has only ever reminded me of you because you, and snow, are my two favorite things.” Hopping off the end of the log, you turn to face him, taking both of your hands in his. “And as many Snows as there are in this corner of the world, I would only ever want to take the Snow that sits at the end of your name, to add it to the end of mine.”

The confession is not something new for the two of you, having discussed your feelings for each other as they have blossomed, not knowing who else to confide in except each other, and trusting each other with everything. Regardless, the weight of your words sits heavy in Jon’s chest as he gazes down into your eyes. 

“You would take my last name?” He asks, as though the question is impossible, ridiculous, even with the extent of your affections for each other.

“Of course, because it is yours.” You answer with a tone like it should be obvious, because it is, to you. 

Leaning forward, Jon rests his forehead against yours and closes his eyes, your hands letting go of his to rest your palms flat, beneath his cloak, against his clothed chest. His heart pounds enough for you to feel it, even then.

“My star, you are simply too good to be true.” His voice is hoarse, a whisper so raw with emotion that you wonder how you stay standing.

“And I am yours, in every way, in this life and whatever lies beyond it.” You whisper, tilting your nose up to nudge his, and Jon’s instincts take hold.

Lips warmer than one would expect from that of snow fall against yours, your mind struck with a blizzard of memories, all him, his smile, his laugh, the feeling of his hands holding yours, and snowflakes of every color, reflecting the light that bursts at the seams from the golden heart at the center of the man you have grown with, loved with, and given every ounce of your love to. Every breath he breathes into you is a fresh layer of bliss falling over you and settling at your feet, freezing the two of you in place as the trees, the forest and the rest of Winterfell melt away, leaving only the two of you as tangled spirits, your fingers in his hair, his arms around your waist, pulling you as close he can and it still never being close enough. 

And then he pulls away, and you are warmed through the coldest winters by the look in his eyes, the smile between flushed cheeks. 

“I’ll love you forever, Jon Snow.” You tell him, having never believed anything more in your life. 

The tears in his eyes reflect the tiniest flickers of sunlight down at you. “I am certain now that the Gods gave me this name because it is one of your favorite things, and for that simple fact, it is worth every piece of torment I’ve received for it. You are my purpose, my very reason for being, and I will love you everyday until the day that you ask me not to.”

Sniffling at his words, you raise an eyebrow. “Forever as well, then?”

Jon chuckles, nodding with you. “If it please you, then forever it is.”

—————————————

taglist: @neymarjrrwife

[lavalais76]

Glad I’m not the only one who thinks Satin played a major role in Jon’s stabbing…..

Everyone knows the pink letter, everyone has a theory on who wrote it, well try this one on. In a Feast for Crows Ch. 17, Cersei is discussing the Nights Watch helping Stannis, and after discussion, Cersei and Qyburn decides to sent assassins to kill Jon Snow. Now I want you to think back on the very many times Cersei needed devious help. Who did she use? Littlefinger. Who just so happens has plans for Sansa to take the North. So bastard brother could be a inheritance issue depending on how the lords react to Stannis offer. Wartime male commander proven in battle? Or a female who never led troops? They would pick Jon. So who does Littlefinger employ? Whores. Whorehouses everywhere. Enter Satin at Castle Black. A male whore from oldtown who somehow just happened to find himself in Gulltown in the Vale before being sent to the wall. Sorry whores don’t leave a bigger nicer town to travel across the entire continent. His story is very suspect. Who knows how to read and write which is very very rare. Whores don’t learn how to read and write. Many nobles don’t even learn. So he becomes steward to Jon. Able to search, snoop, possible Sweetsleep Jon, if your wondering why light hurts him, his hands don’t work very good at times, and his sudden mood swings. So Satin arrives and finds the perfect plot already brewing. Bowen Marsh, and most importantly Clydas. Maester Aemon assistant and the only one trained to handle ravens at Castle Black. So they already control the information coming in from the entire North. How did they know Reek escaped and Arya? Well it would make sense to send a raven warning them. The pink letter is full of terms used by wildlings, who knows those but wildlings and Nights Watch who deal with them every day? Bowen Marsh is fully believing Jon is destroying the Watch and will bring doom upon them. But you can’t just walk up and kill Jon. The rest would kill Bowen and gang. You have to get him to flat out break his vows. Then you have the justification for stabbing him “for the watch”. So you read every letter that arrived, Satin overheard pretty much every conversation, write it in a very nice handwriting. Not blood, which flaked and blocky letters like the 2 Ramsey sent. Not Roose Bolton cause that letter would inflame the north against him and you cannot threaten to attack the watch in the north without repercussions. Not Barbrey Dustin or Mance since Roose would be guarding the ravens to prevent any word from leaking. Stannis is very short on ravens. The seal was smeared instead of the usual button of pink. It was designed to piss Jon off and get him to stand in front of everyone and break his vows publicly. Once he read it and said he was going south with a army, they can kill him and be in the right for doing it. Satin reports back to Littlefinger, who tells Cersei. Littlefinger gets trust, and one less problem to Sansa’s takeover. Cersei gets one less Stark for the north to rally behind. Since she knows Arya is fake. And as a added bonus, many people wonder how Sansa will flee the vale to go north, well she just got informed that Jon is Lord Commander of the Nights Watch, so I imagine she will watch for any ravens or news. Imagine the shock and horror when the completion letter arrives that shows Littlefinger had her brother killed. Might make her rush north. Or slay the giant in the snow. But either way the letter was written by Bowen Marsh desperate to stop Jon from destroying the watch, Satin the whore from Oldtown, who somehow wound up in the vale in Gulltown before coming to the wall, and Clydas, who controls all ravens.

As for the wildling terms used you write how you talk based on where you live. As for asking for the queen, princess, Val, Melisandre, how would anyone in Winterfell even know who Val is? Or that reek and Arya would go there to castle black? His wife was supposed to go to nightfort. But if your Bowen Marsh, you know who everyone is and he wants them ALL gone. Anyone associated with stannis, wildlings, and so yes he would demand they all be sent away to Winterfell, knowing Jon can’t do it. You threaten Val, wildlings ready to kill, threaten queen and co. And Jon is in a horrible spot, but can count on both groups to give him the troops to start revenge planning. He reads the letter out, declares he’s gone, they roar approval, and he is a traitor.

Edit: some guy asked about how satin can get there and be little fingers tool. Tin foil hat time. But Jon was never going to live. As for little finger and satin, little finger plans ahead. Far ahead. Honestly tin foil hat time, what was really in the letter from Lysa? In code. Really hidden and delivered at the perfect time to force Ned south? Who wants Ned dead? Who wants Jon dead? Ummm Lysa is totally bonkers and nuts. She can’t plan anything or fight her way out of a wet paper bag. But boss man little finger can. And Catylen is convinced he’s her true friend. That is littlefinger fingers all over it. And Catylen hasn’t made qualms about wanting Jon gone and wiped off the face of the earth. Go reread the first few chapters. She is daydreaming during lovemaking. About hot springs, family, everything but Ned. Oh she claims to love Ned, Ned is bitter over his brother. But not his sister who ran off and started everything? Brandon did what any brother would do. Cat forces him south, and somehow Benjen talks to maester luwin about Jon joining the Nights Watch. Why the hell would benjan not talk to Ned?!?!?! So yeah they knew Jon was going to the wall sooner or later. Luwin was telling Jon for a while how AWESOME the wall was. Why lie to Jon unless he has to go cause he is a threat. So there’s my two cents on that. She is terrified of Jon taking her kids inheritance. Why? Cause he is the rightful heir. Not robb

[baelontargaryen]

ASOIAF + Wind and words

Robert set the pace, driving his huge black destrier hard as Ned galloped along beside him, trying to keep up. He called out a question as they rode, but the wind blew his words away, and the king did not hear him. After that Ned rode in silence. They soon left the kingsroad and took off across rolling plains dark with mist. By then the guard had fallen back a small distance, safely out of earshot, but still Robert would not slow. — AGOT, Eddard I

“Then Lord Eddard is a man in ten thousand. Most of us are not so strong. What is honor compared to a woman’s love? What is duty against the feel of a newborn son in your arms … or the memory of a brother’s smile? Wind and words. Wind and words. We are only human, and the gods have fashioned us for love. That is our great glory, and our great tragedy. — AGOT, Jon VIII

“Well, as to that, some gave me soft words and some blunt, some made excuses, some promises, some only lied.” He shrugged. “In the end words are just wind.” — ACOK, Prologue

The maester laughed at that. “And there you have it, my lord. Words are wind, you know, and you’ve blown mine away with your good sense. His Grace knows what he has in you, I think.” — ASOS, Davos V

“Words. Words are wind. Why do you think I abandoned Dragonstone and sailed to the Wall, Lord Snow?” — ASOS, Jon XI

“Words are wind. If you love me, do not leave me.” — AFFC, A Soiled Knight

“. . . did not stop you slaying Aerys. Words are wind. You could have had me, but you chose a cloak instead. Get out.” — AFFC, Jaime II

“Words are wind,” Victarion told them, “and the only good wind is that which fills our sails. Would you have me fight the Crow’s Eye? Brother against brother, ironborn against ironborn?” Euron was still his elder, no matter how much bad blood might be between them. No man is as accursed as the kinslayer. — AFFC, The Iron Captain

Words are wind, Brienne told herself. They cannot hurt you. Let them wash over you. “As you command, my lord,” she tried to say, but Tarly had gone before she got it out. She walked from the yard like one asleep, not knowing where she was going. — AFFC, Brienne V

“So you say. Words are wind. When the hour is ripe, you may produce this paragon of yours and we will see if he is all that you have promised.” — AFFC, Cersei VII

The thing that had been Catelyn Stark took hold of her throat again, fingers pinching at the ghastly long slash in her neck, and choked out more sounds. “Words are wind, she says,” the northman told Brienne. “She says that you must prove your faith.” — AFFC, Brienne VIII

“Fine words.” Tyrion was unimpressed. “Words are wind. Who is this bloody savior?” — ADWD, Tyrion I

[...] “From all I hear, his lordship’s fatter than ever. So much for vows. Words are wind, and the wind from Manderly’s mouth means no more than the wind escaping out his bottom.” — ADWD, Davos I

“Words are wind,” said the young woman behind Lord Wyman’s high seat, the handsome one with the long brown braid. “And men will lie to get their way, as any maid could tell you.” — ADWD, Davos III

He shall be the stallion that mounts the world. Dany knew how it went with prophecies. They were made of words, and words were wind. There would be no son for Loraq, no heir to unite dragon and harpy. When the sun rises in the west and sets in the east, when the seas go dry and mountains blow in the wind like leaves. Only then would her womb quicken once again … ... Dany folded her hands together. “Words are wind, even words like love and peace. I put more trust in deeds. In my Seven Kingdoms, knights go on quests to prove themselves worthy of the maiden that they love. They seek for magic swords, for chests of gold, for crowns stolen from a dragon’s hoard.” — ADWD, Daenerys IV

Iron Emmett grimaced. “Men are men, vows are words, and words are wind. You should put guards around the women.” — ADWD, Jon VII

“Be that as it may, they do not trust you. The men of New Ghis feel the same. Words are wind, as you yourself have so oft said. No words of yours will secure this peace for Meereen. Your foes require deeds. They would see us wed, and they would see me crowned as king, to rule beside you.” — ADWD, Daenerys VI

“That is good to hear,” the prince said, “but words are wind. You are my brother’s daughters and I love you, but I have learned I cannot trust you. I want your oath. Will you swear to serve me, to do as I command?” — ADWD, The Watcher

“—that I am half a wildling myself, a turncloak who means to sell the realm to our raiders, cannibals, and giants.” Jon did not need to stare into a fire to know what was being said of him. The worst part was, they were not wrong, not wholly. “Words are wind, and the wind is always blowing at the Wall. Come.” — ADWD, Jon VIII

“Words are wind.” They are no better than me. We’re just the same. “You killed the others, why not him? Yellow Dick—” — ADWD, Theon I

The words seemed to give the girl some comfort. Words are wind, though, Ser Barristan thought. How can I protect the queen when I am not with her? — ADWD, The Queensguard

His years in the Kingsguard had taught him the trick of listening without hearing, especially useful when the speaker was intent on proving that words were truly wind. — ADWD, The Discarded Knight

Cersei walked on. I am blind and deaf, and they are worms, she told herself. “Shame, shame,” the septas sang. “Chestnuts, hot roast chestnuts,” a peddler cried. “Queen Cunt,” a drunkard pronounced solemnly from a balcony above, lifting his cup to her in a mocking toast. “All hail the royal teats!” Words are wind, Cersei thought. Words cannot harm me .… Words are wind, she thought, words cannot hurt me. — ADWD, Cersei II

A steady drip-drip-drip punctuated his words, as snowmelt ran off his cloak to puddle on the floor. The snow had been falling on King’s Landing most of the night; outside the drifts were ankle deep. Ser Kevan Lannister pulled his cloak about himself more closely. “So you say, ser. Words are wind.” — ADWD, Epilogue

[lolitastories]

BLACK AND BLOOD

Y/N L/N is the daughter of the Great Khal Drogo although she was raised by the king of the unknown lands. After finding out he died she travels and finds the one who caused his death. Along this adventure she meets the mother of dragons. Jon Snow. Night walkers. We will see if she really has the Dothraki blood flowing through her veins.

Chapter 7:

After the fight I stood victorious. I look down at the man and I am kind of glad he face planted right on the floor. I can see and feel the anger from some people around the arena. “I will say this once!.” I look around. “We are not the enemy. For years my family has allowed you to live the savages life you wanted, that is until you came here to attack us in out own home”

“You led our people through the posion water!” one screams

“I didn’t put a knife to their throat!” not like I did this guy on the floor. “They choose to follow me under the loyalty they had to Khal Drogo. And as you can see, I have no problem doing it the Dothraki way to earn yours!” Silence fills the room. I look over to the man who I saw standing next to their old Khal. “I will not ask you to follow me, but I will ask you to leave my home if you decide not to” The man walks slowly to me. He drops his weapon and walks past me. The breath I was holding in release.

“All is fair!” I turn to the man screaming at the Dothraki. “Rones did it his way and most of us didn’t agree. What she says is true. They allowed us to live beyond their walls and now we came and invaded their homes.” He turns to me speaking loud and clear. “You beat the Khal and now as our tradition states you are our new one!” Dothraki scream. I don’t know if it's cheer or if they are unhappy. “I will ride with you. And people who choose to join us will too until our last breath. That is when I heard the Dothraki scream. The scream that I heard years ago when Khal Drogo was made Khal. Up in my room I looked over to the distant lands. The light of their fire could be seen from miles. The loud scream sounded more like a roar. The screams were kept quiet when a real roar caught our ears. In the air you saw Drogon flying over us.

“Stand down!” I screamed as the Dothraki pulled out their weapons to my family's guards. Throught the main entrance came my father walking with my brother walking next to him. The dothralo soldier who pleadge himself to me first stepped aside on my command. My father, tall and proud, stood before me and took out his knife.

“There are many things I could say right now.” My head moves to look down at the floor. “Like how stupid you are for moving across the sea and for trusting these people who not even a day ago were planning to kill us!” That made my eyes shoot up towards him. I move forward only to be met with his knife to my ribs. “How you decide to bleed for them when your family bled when they shouldn’t have because you weren’t here” His sharp knife pierce my clothing and the cold steel touches my skin. He moved his face closer but I know it was hard for him to talk.

“Do it. I will bleed for my mistakes” his hand moved fast and didn’t feel the sting until he had walked away from me.

“Oh dear sister” I lay myself against Grisill. “Let's get you inside” When I made it inside I had two things in my mind. Daenerys and the Dothraki. “I have never seen father this angry,” He says, starting to clean up my wound.

“He has never lost a wife and a daughter before. Its grief.”

“Did you come back to stay?” I hear the hopefulness in his voice.

“I think I should let father be alone and heal without me here” He wasn’t a man with many words but in his eyes I knew he wanted to say many things.

“This wound has been opened plenty of times. You already have bad tissues so how about you let it heal completely this time” I hiss as he pats my cut over the wrap he had just finished.

“Yes sir.” I got up to thank him. “I am leaving before I cause more damage” I open the door and at the end of the hall I see Jon standing there.

“They came and set us free from the dungeons' ' I turned to my brother, shocked. “The mother of dragons and father has been introduced but it wasn’t as pleasant as you think” I laugh knowing he was just being sarcastic.

“Wouldn’t think any different.” My smile fades and it's like I forgot how to let words form.

“They are okay. I sent them once we got the word that the Dothraki were close. We didn’t think it was a civil meeting they wanted.” I nod. I give him a quick hug before saying goodbye. “Come back soon. The wedding can’t start without you!” I wave him off as I catch up to Jon.

“Came here to try to redeem yourself?” I smiled but he was kind of awkward. His long cold gaze could be felt even if I wasn’t looking at him. I kept walking waiting for him to say something but nothing came out of his lips. “We have more Dothraki to take to Winterfell. We have ships so there will be no problem on taking them.” We come to the open common area of the castle and I see the Dothraki, Daenerys, Davos, and Jorah standing there waiting. I turn to Jon who at once glance he is walking down the stairs. I shake my head ignoring his actions. I walk down telling Daenerys everything and we start the departure.

“You had us worried Princess,” Davos says, coming up to me on the ship. I watched the castle disappear into a small spectacle until I couldn’t see it any longer. “When we met up to the Dothraki and didn’t see you there, everyone thought the worst” I look over at his point of view seeing Jon going into his cabin.

“It was short notice. I told Greyworm to inform you on my whereabouts''

“Yes. He spoke to Daenery and she thought it best to not tell anyone but once Jon and I found out we couldn’t just not do something” I see what he was saying but there was no need for that. “Stragic wise, the unsullied and dothraki follow your lead and yes you put Greyworm to command but what if he was killed? Who would they follow then?”

“My people are loyal. They would follow who I follow” I look over to Daenerys at the dock.

“Yes. But do remember the person you follow values your stance here, they would have helped you in your cause” With a smile he walks away. I hate this feeling. Like I was just lecsured by a parent. Like my choices weren’t the right ones. Like if I needed their validation for protection who I love. Like if my death would cause a dark hole in their hearts. I turn myself towards the cabin to walk in without knocking.

“You don’t get to judge me with your eyes! I did what my heart told me. My famil-” I didn’t see Jons shocked face. I was the shock one right now. I didn’t see his dark eyes staring at me fiercely because my eyes were closed. The only sense I was focusing on was touch. The way one of his hands pulled me in close by the waist and the other grasped my neck. The way his fur coat and leather armour felt through my fingers as they grabbed onto his chest. But the thing that I didn’t know would feel like this was his lips. The kiss wasn’t rough but they felt demanding. Not filled with desire but with a soft touch. How can something so simple as just two pairs of lips meeting have a person's mind explode? I pulled back once my head got out of his warmth. I open my eyes and still wrapped in his arms I pull him closer. “I don’t apologise for what I did. You had a war to fight and I knew I could win mine alone” He pulls back from the hug but only enough for us to come face to face again.

“But you are not alone anymore.” I shake my head smiling. I move my hands towards his face and pull him in.

“I know.” but it's not easy. All my life I have been alone. Yes, surrounded by family and friends but alone. Too stubborn to trust someone with my family's safety. Too skeptical to think that if I took the chance to put them in harm's way they would get harmed. I couldn’t let this much mind help me try to save them because they might mess up something, I prefer being the only one responsible for anything if something happened. “Don’t make me promise anything” He closed his eyes with a smile. When he reopened them he pulled me in for a quick kiss. His eyes blew open and stepped back.

“I'm so sorry.” he turned around looking everywhere but me. “I shouldn’t have kissed you. I should have known-I mean I just saw you two together-”

“Should have known what? Saw who together?” I walked up to him, taking a hold of his hand so he would turn to look at me.

“The man you said goodbye” I wanted to laugh so bad but my curiosity won. I wanted to know what he was thinking.

“What about the man?” he looked shock at me

“He said something about a wedding, arent you two to be wed?” I shrug letting him go.

“Not anymore” I kept my blank face not wanting him to catch up on me. “You know back home a kiss is not only a kiss” I turn and take a seat on the end of the bed. “It's an engagement” I look up towards his face. “We are practically married since you took my first kiss” A small smile could have been missed on his face but I knew he was spectacle of my response. He didn’t say anything for a couple of minutes. I let out a sigh. “I am lying, your grace.” I laughed getting up to walk out the door but he grabbed my hand, pulling me towards him.

“You didn’t tell me who the man was” I laugh

“My brother, Grisill.” he let out a small oh. My head moves a little to the right admiring him from upclose again. He was beautiful.

“Was that really your first kiss, or were you lying about that too?” I could feel the heat in my cheek as I nodded.

“Yes. and don’t you dare say anything” I was nervous when he kissed me. I didn’t have any experience before him. I didn’t know if I did it right or not.

“I wasn’t going to” he laughs as I playfully hit his chest. “But you know what I was going to say?” I look up to see a grin on his face. “We can keep practicing”

[cactus-flavor]

Game of Thrones. I do not trust people who said how the show ended didn't make sense when it was all the product of the character's choices and themes.

Rant ahead cause I have thoughts.

Daenerys is an abused woman - hurt by her own throne-obsessed brother - who fought and suceeded to no longer be a victim by gaining power of her own. She relied on the narrative her brother told her: being of targaryen lineage makes you special and better than others. Being a dragon means to rule. She expanded on that yes, but it was the fundament of her world view.

The problem was that she was so used to fighting to get what she wanted that she never learned how to keep what she had. Because she never had anything of her own until he became Khaleesi, Viserys made sure of that.

Every time she gained power she lost more. Persuing the throne and crossing the sea she lost Khal Drogo. That was the starting point of her theme. What lesson did she learn? In order to maintain power, she has to expand it.

Daenerys isn't a ruler, she's a conqueror.

Her strength is to fight and claim what she desires. She has good strategic instincts and knows how to act in a crisis. She does not know how to do everyday rule. We see this the most after she struggles in maintaining her authority and the freedom of the slaves in the slave cities.

But in the last season, she takes Westeros. She has King's Landing. She has the Iron Throne. What is there left to claim? How can a conqueror persist without more, without the next goal?

She's at the peak of her power, trying to rule would only end in ruin or the type of desperate tyranny Viserys showed her. Being killed off and her dragon melting the iron throne so that no one after her will ever claim - will ever surpass her - is her success story. Not a happy ending but the only possible without ruining her rise to power arc.

Jon Snow is a runner. He is loyal and idealistic to a fault, yes, but those two qualities trip each other up. He's a deeply conflicted character right from the start, trying find a place where he belongs. And yet, he's doomed to fail. And when he fails, he leaves, to try again elsewhere like Sicciphus and his rock.

He doesn't fit in at Winterfell so he takes on the black and leaves for the wall. He has trouble fitting there too but manages for a tad. But as soon as he took his oath, he tries to rekindle old loyalities when Ned is in prison. He runs - he is brought back yes, but it clues us in further how torn of a character he is.

Then they leave on the expedition to the north. He is forced to ally with the wildlings and Ygritte (?i realized i never spelt her name until now) but old loyalities make him burn that bridge again. You get the pattern.

Later as the nightwatch commander he literally dies, killed by his own men. A violent symbolic deperature followed by a physical one away from the Wall and the Nightwatch.

Then he allies with Daenerys. Are we really surprised that his ideals and his loyalities are at war again. Of course, he kills her. How else could he satisfy his own morals and sever that bond? Is it a dick move? Yes, but that's not the point. It makes sense for both their characters.

Side note: Daenerys being killed by her lover and relative for "the better" in front of regal symbols (the thronw) adds stunning parallels. She killed Khal Drogo as an act of mercy. Now her lover kills her for the safety of kingdoms, a mercy to the people if you will. And she dies in front of the iron throne due to her ambition just like she watched Viserys be killed via a golden crown as he threathened her to gain an army to claim that very throne. Doesn't get more poetic than that.

Ok back to Snow. So after a lifetime of conflict and running. Where else has he to go? He burned all the bridges. It makes sense for him to be exiled to some unnamed place in the north with none of the other introduced characters. He can no longer bond with anyone as he escalated the way he severs his relationships to the max (aka killing his queen, blood relative and lover - thats triple kill in terms of relationships). His ending is that he has nowhere left to run and it fits the way he behaved.

Now i'm not including Bran in this post cause I'd need y'all to read my 50 page bachelor thesis on capital and power dynamics first as base to understand why it's so fitting for him to end up as a ruler.

Actually no, lemme try to summarize. So at the beginning until the exact middle of the show the driving force of power in got is money. The Lannisters are in charge, gold is a common theme and no matter how many riddles Varys gives us on power, the show answers us that it's money. (If you'd like a more through analysis hit me up, i have so many notes but for now just trust me)

That changes in the exact middle of the show when Tywin Lannister is shot on the toilet. The head of house Lannister, the one to build their fortune and power, dead, in the most unsophisticated way possible. It holds so much symbolic power that I want to kiss the showrunner on the mouth, but I digress.

So what replaces money as the main power source? Here comes Bourdieu's capital theory into play but the short version: it's culture, otherwise known as prestige. Or in Varys words, the power lies there where the people believe it to be (i only watched the german dub so pardon my french). So the people think you are the ruler then you are. For the most time of the second half of the show, it's Daenerys with her dragons and Targaryen heritage.

So how does this catapult Bran to king position? Easy. Cultural capital is also knowledge. Now Bran got the knowledge and the prestige of his Stark lineage. Not to mention that that Crow dude once served the Targaryens so you got the whole nine yards in him. Am i happy with their choice? No but thematically it fits. Plus who else could they have crowned? Dany is dead, Snow is gone, Sansa's whole arc was coming home so she better stay in Winterfell and Tyrion may have a knowledge but he's a Lannister (aka money power related). So Bran is literally the best option.

Now to the last point of complaint and my favorite, Jamie Lannister.

I am baffled how people do not see the poetic tragedy that is his life and end. At the start I hated him, he cared for nothing and no one. He desired Cersei but even that only highlighted his corrupted nature. He disregarded tradition and change the same, he was arrogant and slippery like an eel, both with his words and his actions.

Then the bath scene with Brienne happened and it brilliantly added - like no piece of media ever done before, at least not to my eyes - a revelation that turned everything we seen before from him around.

Jamie's main character trait is loyality.

He cared so deeply, held a knight's principles in high regard. He wanted approval from his father, from his king, from the world and the people he loved and vowed to serve and protect.

And they let him down. Every single one of them. His father ordered him to betray his king. To break his loyality and go against his very essence and didn't even acknowledge what sacrifice he asked him to make.

His king killed and torturted the people - expecting Jamie to do nothing, to watch his principles and beliefs as a knight be crushed and violated by the one person Jamie swore to serve the rest of his life.

Then Jamie acted on the right thing to do, he chose to be a knight, chose his family and killed his king. What a joke those virtues must have seen when for the following years Kingslayer was all they saw in him to the point that it replaced his name. Could you blame someone for tossing all the virtues out the window when that happens? I can't. Plus it makes for a wonderful complex character that isn't a good person but still good at his core in his own way.

Who is the only person who doesn't disdain him as Kingslayer? Cersei. So of xourse, he grew reliant on her. How long can you go without anyone confirming your sense of self (Jamie) before you loose it? He needs Cersei to exist, all her loyalty is to her because she is the only one left to accept Jamie.

Even more meaningful is the one moment Jamie goes against her. He leaves to the North to fight in Winterfell. Despite his dependence on Cersei - the one person who kept him Jamie, he chooses to be a knight once more. It's the only thing that can seperate them. When duty calls - the real duty, to be a protector of the realm, not the pompeoua illusions he lived among in King's Landing - Jamie answers.

And once that threat is averted? His duty as a knight is fulfilled, so the only thing keeping him from Cersei - the only thing that demanded his loyalty more - is satisfied. I think Jamie got his peace by being a proper knight again, serving the realm and not a crown he cant trust. His journey is over. But it can't erase years of trauma and dependancy so of course he returns to Cersei. What other choice did he have?

I'm not happy with their death scene although I get the whole Cersei-falling-ruin-(literally)-to her-own-ambition. It was foeshadowed/coming for a few season at that point. But Jamie being there and sharing her fate is the only option without either of them acting massively out of character.

So yes, the last season was rushed and it wasn't a happy ending but got was never one to promise a happy ending and despite that, it was a good one. It gave closure without butchering the characters. I will die on that hill

that post that’s like, fandom’s obsession with viewing characters as only relatable or shippable or defendable has ruined media literacy in being able to view characters through the lens of themes or narrative theory. character analysis one of my favourite forms of analysis but not at the detriment of being able to understand when a character represents something larger thematically in a story than what they would be if they were just a guy from your high school

[axelsagewrites]

Hey hiii I love your writings! Can you write something platonic about Edmure Tully and the Snow fem reader? Strangely enough, I like this guy. I hope you write. Thanks in advance<3

Edmure Tully*Who We Call Family

(Platonic) Pairing: Jon x sister!reader, Robb x halfsister!reader, Edmure x fem!reader

Summary: The reader finally gets some respect for the first time in their life and gains a new family member from an unlikely source

A/N: inspired by book Edmure since the show did this man so fcking dirty

Word count: 1588

Masterlist Here

When Jon rode off to join the nightswatch you had never felt so alone. Jon was one of your few comforts in the world. Robb stood by your side as your brother rode off to his new family at the wall but even Robb did not know what it was like to be Eddard Starks bastard.

When Robb rode off to war you refused to be left behind again. Something you often regretted once you learned of Bran and Rickon fate at Theon Greyjoy. So much had changed. Even at war you still felt Catelyn’s eyes glaring at you around the camp. She had protested for as long as her lungs allowed at your presence but even, she couldn’t deny Robb needed fighters’ men or women. Even with her distain she knew that you would lay your life down for your brother.

It didn’t make it any less hard. Sansa was a prisoner. Arya was missing. Bran and Rickon were betrayed. And Jon was gone to whatever fate the wall allowed him. Robb was the only one left in arms reach. But now he was riding off again and not taking you with him.

In the tent that acted like a council room Robb laid out his plan he and Edmure Tully and some other lords had planned. “We shall ride west tomorrow into the westerlands and meet the Lannister’s in battle,” he began to explain to the lords, Catelyn, and yourself. Even in this council meeting she refused to meet your eye unless to glare, “Lord Edmure will stay in Riverrun to protect us from the rear while we prepare to storm Ashemark and the Crag,”

After some protest, questions, agreements, and strategies the meeting is finally drawing to an end, “Sister stays behind,” Robb said as the men began to leave. Catelyn paused, looking at her son with raised eyebrows. Since he had been declared king Robb no longer kept your familiar ties in the background, “We’ll be fine mother,”

Finally, she left, and you were left with Robb, “What is it?” you asked.

He said before he finally looked at you. Robb knew just how stubborn you could be so he knew it would not be easy, “I need you to stay- “

“Oh no Robb- “you began to protest but it was no matter.

Robb crossed the room to grab you shoulder, “I need you in Riverrun,” he said.

“I need to be by your side in battle like always,” you said as you smacked his hand away, “Robb I’m not losing another brother not now ever,”

“I need to leave someone I can trust. I already made that mistake with Theon,” Robb said, raising his voice. You knew your voices were both loud enough by now to be heard outside the tent, but it didn’t matter right now. “I need you to be my shield. If the Lannister’s come from behind- “

“I want to be beside you in- “

“I need you here- “

“But- “

“But I am your king!” Robb all but yelled across the tent. Silence fell across the room as Robb seemed to release what he said, “If I say I need you here,” Robb began to say his voice finally lowering, “I need you here. I don’t want to lose another sister,”

“We’ve not lost them yet,” you said but your words were thin. You could only hope they were telling the truth when they said Sansa was alive.

“That we know off. You know what the Lannister’s are like. They’ll burn Riverrun to the ground if they think it will stop us. I need you to put out the fire,”

When you finally left the tent with Robb you could feel the lord’s eyes on you. even more so when Robb put his hand on your shoulder and told them you would be leading the defence at River Run. There were protests all round. She’s a girl. She’s a bastard. She’s a child. Nearly every one of his council men protested; except you noticed Edmure Tully.

When Robb had finally calmed the men, he dismissed them to sleep and prepare. Edmure walked up to you, “Lady- “

“Im not a lady,” you cut him off.

The man gave a sorry smile, “Apologies. What shall I call you then?”

“Most call me bastard,” you said but Edmure just waited for you to continue, “but (Y/N) will do,” you added.

“Alright (Y/N),” he said with a seemingly genuine smile on his lips, “Shall we discuss our plans to protect Riverrun tonight or over breakfast?”

“Now will do,” you said but you couldn’t help but squint at the man. Apart from Robb he was the first lord to take you with any kind of seriousness, “You can tell me your ideas while I walk to my tent,”

“Very well my- “he said before catching himself and correcting himself with a sorry smile again. As you walked, he began to explain the defences they had available and how many men Robb was leaving behind with you. he even seemed to take your own concerns seriously.

As you stood outside your tent, Lord Tully about to wish you goodnight, you thought of something, “What of the small folk?”

“What about them?”

“Tywin isn’t against killing the innocents for war. If he was a Targaryen, he would’ve burnt half the north by now,” you said, “When he comes for your people what is the plan for them? Winterfell has molestown for when winter comes. What do we have when the Lannister’s come?”

“The smallfolk in the Riverlands are under my protection,” any hint of laughter had fell from Edmure face, “When the Lannister’s come the smallfolk know they have my protection,”

“Will we house them? In Riverrun?” you asked.

“They are my people, my responsibility. When the Lannister’s comes, I will give them my own bed if we run out,” he said sternly.

You couldn’t help but smile lightly at his words. A lord who cared for others was rare especially when the others had little money. “Good to know my lord,” you said opening your tent, “Goodnight my lord,”

“Goodnight (Y/N),”

True to his word when Tywin began to burn villages through the Riverlands the smallfolk came in droves to Riverrun, and none were turned away even as his lieges tried to yell at Edmure about their supplies. It had caught you off guard at first when Edmure defended you to his men. Up till now it had been Robb who had told the men of for laughing at the sound of your voice. Now it was Edmure who bellowed across the room at his men’s sniggers at your suggestions. The northerners respected you for fighting beside them. You couldn’t figure out why Edmure did.

“Robb seems like a good kid,” Edmure said as you ate dinner with him, something you had come to do almost every night since Robbs departure. “Truthfully I’ve not spent much time with him,”

“Well, he is my brother Edmure,” you laughed as you sipped your wine, “I kind of have to like him,”

“Trust me,” he laughed, “that’s not true. You’ve met my sister,”

You couldn’t help but blush at his words. His own sister had been the bane of your life for so many years. “I’m sure deep down she’s lovely- “

“Deep deep down,” he laughed as he topped up the wine for you both, “I love the lass, but she is absolutely awful at times,”

“Can’t argue there,” you said under your breath, but he had heard.

Edmure smiled as he sat back in his chair. “I do love her though. We don’t choose who we’re born with, but we choose who we call family. she is my sister still,”

“She’s a good mother,” you said, sitting the wine down. Edmure shot a confused look, “Not to me,” you corrected with a slight laugh, “But Robb loves her. she adored all her children. I’ve never seen a mother love so much,” you said without realising the sadness lacing your words.

Edmure smiled lightly, “It must be hard,”

“Can be,” you said, picking the wine back up and drinking the whole glass down, “But worse happens, I shouldn’t complain,”

A few beats of silence fell over you both. Edmure looked up from his wine, “For what its worth. I’ve never met a mother who didn’t love her babe. Just not all are so lucky as to keep them,”

You tried to smile but your lips wouldn’t seem to move. Instead, you just filled your cup again, “To mothers,” you said with a watery smile, lifting the cup to toast.

“To daughters,”

The next day Edmure had tried to bring the conversation from last night up only for you to shoot him down. “For what its worth you can talk to me- “

“My lord- “your conversation was interrupted by one of your men sprinting up to you both, “It’s Tywin, he’s left Harrenhall,”

“He’s going to try pass the fords,” you cut the man off looking at Edmure.

“Quick gather to men,”

The day was long, and the fight was longer, but you managed. Edmure by your side most of the fight. Tywin had to retreat, not able to catch up to Robb from behind. You could return to Riverrun content with two things; Tywin was not going to run up behind Robb and that family was who you choose. You wondered what Catelyn would think when she learned Edmure had become family.

Taglist @clairacassidy

[forzaazzurri]

Lycanthropy - Jon Snow

Dead Man

Pairing: Jon Snow x oc (Aela of the Weres) Length: 5.2k Rating: M for Mature Warnings: gore, graphic depictions of violence, violence, parental violence against child

The hearth in Aela's chambers had burned low, embers glowing faintly in the dim light. She had fallen asleep wrapped in her furs, the weight of recent days pressing down on her. The room was quiet, save for the occasional crackle of wood. Outside, the icy wind howled, carrying with it the scent of snow and pine.

In her dreams, she was no longer in her chambers. She stood in the shadow of the Frostfangs, the mountains looming vast and stark against a steel-gray sky. The snow swirled around her, yet she didn't feel the cold. She felt something else instead—his presence.

It had been at least two moons since his visit to the Were Caverns with Tormund on behalf of Mance Rayder to treaty. 

Jon emerged from the haze of snow, his furs blending into the storm behind him. He looked tired as if the weight of his choices had worn him thin, but his gray eyes met hers with a familiar intensity.

"I didn't mean to disturb your rest," he said, his voice steady yet filled with uncertainty.

"You never disturb me, Jon," Aela replied, stepping closer. Her heart ached at the sight of him, yet she didn't reach out.

Jon hesitated, his gaze shifting to the ground before returning to hers. "I've been thinking... My time with the wildlings is over. I've done what I can for them, but I have to return to the Wall. To my brothers. They'll need me when the time comes."

Aela's brows furrowed, sensing the turmoil beneath his words. "You're afraid."

"I'd be a fool not to be," Jon admitted. "Leaving won't be easy. The wildlings don't forgive easily, and Mance... he'll see it as betrayal." He paused, the wind whipping his cloak around him. "There's more. I broke my vows once more—with Ygritte."

Aela's chest tightened, but she said nothing, letting him continue.

"I had no choice," he said, his voice quiet now. "It was the only way to gain their trust, to survive long enough to learn their plans. Tormund knew something happened between us, and Ygritte was suspecting it too. I didn't think about what it meant until it was too late. I can't take it back." He met her gaze again, searching for something—judgment, perhaps, or forgiveness.

Aela's lips curved into a small, sad smile. "You think this would hurt me."

Jon didn't answer, but the flicker of guilt in his eyes spoke volumes.

"It doesn't," Aela said gently. "I understand why you did it. You chose what you had to, for the sake of your survival. But you must be careful. Escaping won't just cost you. I've... I've had a feeling, a shadow over what's to come. I fear for you."

Jon frowned, his hand tightening on the hilt of his sword. "What do you mean?"

Aela shook her head, the words eluding her. "I don't know. It's just a sense that something is waiting for you—something dangerous."

He stepped closer then, his face inches from hers. The warmth of his breath reached her cheeks, despite the cold. "Aela... If I make it out, I'll need to find safety. If something happens to me—"

"Tell me where you'll go," she interrupted.

Jon hesitated before nodding. "The Shadow Tower. It's the safest place to rejoin the Watch."

Aela placed a hand over his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. "Then I'll find you there if I can."

He didn't respond. Instead, he leaned forward, pressing his forehead to hers. For a moment, the storm faded, leaving only the two of them standing in its wake.

And then the dream dissolved.

Aela awoke with a sharp intake of breath, her brown eyes snapping open. The room was dark, save for the faint glow of dying embers. Her heart raced, the dream lingering vividly in her mind.

She sat up, running a hand through her dark hair. The sensation of Jon's presence clung to her, as real as if he had been there. But the words he had spoken weighed heavily on her.

The Shadow Tower.

Aela swung her legs over the side of her bed, her bare feet brushing against the cold stone floor. Her father, Harvald, had returned just days ago from the north, bringing with him news of wildling movements and tensions with the Watch. He had warned her—again and again—that their kind could trust no one outside their pack, least of all a Crow. Weres stayed away from the Wall. It was paramount that it remained that way.

But Aela had made her decision before she even realized it.

She dressed quickly, pulling on thick layers and fastening her cloak at her throat. She grabbed her pack, filling it with food, water, and a small blade for protection. She could imagine her father's voice in her mind, stern and unyielding. "Aela, you will be chieftain someday. Your duty is to your people, not to some outsider."

Yet Jon wasn't just some outsider.

As quietly as she could, Aela slipped out of her chambers and into the night. The guards camp outside the gorge entrance was still, the guards at the perimeter appeared unaware of her departure. Her breath misted in the cold air as she made her way quickly out of sight. It helped she planned the perimeter for guards at this hour of the night.

Her steps were quick and she remained alert as she navigated her way through Were territory. She felt the knot of apprehension in her chest tighten in her chest. If her father discovered she had left, his wrath would be swift. But she couldn't let that stop her.

"I'll find you, Jon Snow," she murmured under her breath, "And may the Old Gods protect us both."

Without another glance back, Aela fled into the, the trees swallowing her as she made her way south.

----------

The forest was dense and eerily silent as Aela crept through the snow, her breath visible in the frigid air. Moonlight filtered through the skeletal branches, casting pale shadows across the frozen ground. She crouched low, her sharp eyes scanning the treeline for any movement.

In her werewolf form, Aela was a shadow of muscle and fur, her senses sharper and her body more agile. She had tracked Jon's path south, using what little information her dream had given her and following the faint trails left by the wildlings. She had crossed into the Gift, south of the Wall, through an icy gorge—a perilous path few dared to take.

Now she was closer, her instincts pulling her toward him like a magnet.

The faint scent of smoke reached her sensitive nose. She stilled, her ears twitching as she listened. The crackle of a fire and faint voices drifted through the trees. She shifted slightly, her massive paws silent against the snow.

Wildlings.

Aela approached the edge of the clearing, where she spotted the flicker of firelight. A small group of them sat huddled around the flames, their laughter harsh and grating against the quiet night. They had set up camp not far from a crumbling farmhouse, its roof sagging under the weight of accumulated snow.

She sniffed the air again, searching for Jon's scent. It was faint but unmistakable, carried on the breeze. He was close—closer than she had hoped.

Aela retreated into the shadows, the fur along her spine bristling. Her heart hammered in her chest as she considered her next move. Jon had told her in the dream that he intended to leave the wildlings, but if they discovered his plans—or her presence—there would be blood.

The moon hung high in the sky when Aela finally stopped to shift. She found a secluded grove surrounded by thick pines, far enough from the wildling camp to avoid detection. She crouched low, her fur rippling as her bones began to shift and crack. The transformation was swift and fluid, the pain a fleeting echo of what it had been when she was younger.

When it was over, she knelt in the snow, shivering slightly as her human form emerged. Her breath came in sharp gasps, and she pressed a hand to her chest, steadying herself.

Her mind raced. She was so close to Jon now, but what would she find when she reached him? Would he even want her here? Would the wildlings see her as an outsider, a threat?

No time for doubts now, she thought. She retrieved her pack, which she had hidden in a hollowed-out tree, and quickly dressed in her furs. During her transformation, she carried her pack around her neck, finding it easiest to carry that why while running on all fours.

She set out again, her steps purposeful as she followed the trail of smoke and firelight.

The farmhouse came into view just as the first light of dawn began to creep over the horizon. Aela kept to the cover of the trees, her sharp eyes scanning the area. She spotted several wildlings moving about—gathering firewood, sharpening blades, and speaking in low voices.

Her heart clenched when she saw Jon among them. He was seated on a log near the fire, his cloak wrapped tightly around him. His hair was damp with melted snow, and his face was drawn, as though he hadn't slept in days.

Aela's instincts screamed at her to approach him, to close the distance between them. But she held back, knowing the risks. If she exposed herself now, the wildlings might see her as a threat—or worse, use her against Jon.

She crouched low, waiting for an opportunity to approach unseen.

----------

Jon sat silently by the fire, his hands wrapped around a steaming cup of broth. The warmth did little to chase away the chill that had settled deep in his bones. He glanced around the camp, his mind heavy with unease.

He had been with the wildlings long enough to know their ways, their tempers. But his heart wasn't with them. It never had been. He thought of the Wall, of the brothers he had left behind. Of Ghost, who had disappeared. And of Aela, whose face lingered in his thoughts more often than he cared to admit.

A rustling in the trees caught his attention. Jon's eyes narrowed as he scanned the treeline, his hand instinctively moving to Longclaw's hilt. He stood slowly, his movements careful as he stepped away from the fire.

"Something wrong, crow?" Tormund's gruff voice broke the silence.

Jon shook his head, his gaze still fixed on the trees. "Probably nothing," he said, though his gut told him otherwise.

As the camp began to stir, Aela seized her moment. She waited until the wildlings were distracted, most of them preoccupied with preparing for the day's journey. Moving swiftly and silently, she skirted the edge of the clearing, keeping low to the ground.

When she was close enough, she crouched behind a snow-laden bush and let out a soft, low whistle—a sound she hoped Jon would recognize. She had done it once or twice in their dream meetings.

Jon froze, his head snapping toward the sound. His hand tightened on Longclaw, but then his eyes widened slightly, recognition flashing across his face. He didn't move, didn't speak, but his shoulders relaxed minutely.

Aela held her breath, waiting for him to acknowledge her. When he gave a subtle nod, she exhaled and retreated back into the trees.

Jon turned to Tormund, his expression neutral. "I need a moment. I'll catch up."

Tormund grunted, unconcerned. "Don't take too long, crow. We leave soon."

Jon nodded and slipped away, his steps quick and deliberate as he followed Aela's trail into the forest.

----------

Aela stepped out from the trees, her form blending seamlessly into the morning mist. She approached Jon cautiously, her brown eyes scanning the camp behind him for any signs of pursuit.

"You shouldn't have come," Jon muttered, his voice low but firm. Worry shown in his stormy eyes as he stared at the young woman in front of him.

"I dreamed of you again," she whispered, closing the gap between them. Her breath was visible in the frigid air, and though her face was calm, her eyes betrayed her worry. "You were in danger. I couldn't ignore it."

Jon's jaw tightened as he glanced back toward the camp. The wildlings were preparing to move south, unaware of Aela's presence. He reached for her arm, his grip firm but not unkind.

"You need to leave," he said, his voice carrying a weight that brooked no argument. "I can't protect you here."

"I didn't come for your protection," Aela shot back, her voice steady but soft. "I came for you."

Jon sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You don't understand. This is my battle, my mistake to resolve. If they find you, it won't just be me they'll hunt—it'll be you, too."

Aela stepped closer, her breath mingling with his in the cold air. "I won't leave you to face this alone."

Jon grabbed her by the shoulders, his dark eyes boring into hers. "You have to," he said, his voice low and fierce. "Listen to me, Aela. I need you to go north, toward the Wall. There's a spot a mile out from here where it's safe to wait. I'll meet you there when it's over."

She shook her head, her lips pressed into a thin line. "And if you don't?"

His grip tightened, his hands trembling slightly. "Then you'll keep going. You'll find safety. You don't owe me this."

"I owe you nothing," Aela replied quietly, her gaze unwavering. "But I choose to stand by you."

For a moment, Jon said nothing, his expression softening as he studied her face. Then, without warning, he pulled her close, his arms encircling her in a fierce embrace.

"I can't lose you," he murmured, his voice barely audible.

"You won't," she promised.

Jon pulled back, his hands lingering on her arms. "Go," he said firmly. "I'll find you."

Reluctantly, Aela nodded. She turned and disappeared into the forest, her figure swallowed by the mist.

----------

The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon when Aela spotted the rider. At first, she thought it was a trick of the fading light, but as the figure came into view, her heart seized in her chest.

Jon slumped forward in the saddle, his body barely upright as his horse trudged through the snow. Blood stained his cloak, and arrows jutted from his back and shoulder like cruel markers of his defeat. A third was sticking out of his calf.

"No," Aela whispered, breaking into a run.

The horse came to an unsteady halt as Aela reached its side. Jon's head lolled, his face pale and slick with sweat. His eyes fluttered open briefly, and he tried to speak, but no sound came.

"Easy," Aela murmured, her voice trembling as she steadied him. She carefully pulled him from the saddle, her strength bolstered by the adrenaline coursing through her veins. He groaned in pain as she laid him on his stomach on the ground, her hands moving quickly to assess the damage.

The arrows had pierced deeply, and his breathing was shallow. Aela's hands hovered over the wounds, her mind racing.

"Stay with me, Jon," she said urgently.

He blinked at her, his lips forming a single word: "Aela."

Her heart clenched at the sound of her name. "I'm here," she said firmly. "I'm not leaving you."

Aela glanced around, her sharp eyes searching for shelter. She spotted a crumbling shack a short distance away, its roof partially caved in but its walls still standing.

Summoning her strength, she hoisted Jon onto her shoulders, her muscles protesting under his weight. In human form, she was much weaker. She staggered toward the shack, her breaths coming in labored gasps as she fought through the snow.

----------

The shack was cold and dark but better than the open forest. Aela laid Jon on a makeshift pallet of furs on his side, her hands already working to remove the arrows.

He hissed in pain, his body jerking as she snapped the first shaft and pulled it free. Blood welled from the wound, and Aela pressed a strip of cloth against it, her hands steady despite the panic clawing at her chest.

"You're going to be fine," she said, more to herself than to him. "You've survived worse."

Jon's lips twitched in a faint, pained smile. "Have I?"

She met his gaze, her expression softening. "You will," she said firmly.

One by one, she removed the arrows, her hands slick with blood. She worked quickly, her movements efficient but gentle. When she was done, she cleaned the wounds with snowmelt and bound them tightly with strips of cloth.

Jon's breathing steadied slightly, though his face remained pale. He opened his eyes, meeting her gaze with a weak but grateful look.

"You shouldn't have come," he murmured.

"And yet, here I am," Aela replied, her voice soft.

Jon's lips parted as if to argue, but the effort was too much. He closed his eyes, his body relaxing into the furs.

Aela sat back, her hands trembling as the adrenaline began to wear off. She leaned against the wall, her eyes fixed on Jon's face.

----------

The small shack was deathly quiet save for the soft crackling of the fire Aela had managed to build in the crumbling hearth. Jon lay on the makeshift bed of furs, his face pale and damp with sweat, his breathing shallow but steady. His fever had set in late the previous night, leaving him restless and murmuring in his delirium.

Aela sat beside him, her knees drawn up and her back resting against the rotting wall. Her brown eyes never left him, scanning his features for any sign of change. She'd barely left his side since dragging him to the shack, only slipping out once at dawn to fetch fresh water from a nearby stream.

When Jon groaned softly, his head shifting against the fur beneath him, Aela leaned forward. She dipped a cloth into the bowl of cool water beside her and pressed it gently to his forehead. His skin was hot to the touch, the fever burning away whatever strength he had left.

"It's all right," she whispered, her voice low and soothing as she stroked a hand through his damp hair. The strands were thick and unruly, curling slightly at the ends. "I'm here, Jon. You're safe."

He mumbled something incoherent, his brows furrowing as though he were trapped in a dream.

"Shhh," she murmured, her fingers continuing their rhythmic motion through his hair. "No one will hurt you. Not while I'm here."

But even as she spoke, Aela's sharp senses remained on high alert. Her ears picked up the faintest noises—the distant rustle of leaves, the creak of snow-laden branches—and her nose twitched at every unfamiliar scent carried on the cold wind. She was ready, poised to act at the first sign of danger.

And if it came to that, she would kill them all.

The thought came unbidden but resolute. She knew the wildlings wouldn't hesitate to kill Jon if they found him, and she wouldn't hesitate to stop them. Not Tormund, despite his grudging kindness. Not any of them.

And certainly not Ygritte.

Aela's jaw tightened as she thought of the red-haired woman. She had seen the way Ygritte looked at Jon—possessive, almost predatory. She hadn't spoken of it to Jon, but she knew it was Ygritte's arrows that had done the most damage. There was no doubt in her mind.

Her fingers paused briefly in their motion through Jon's hair, her claws threatening to extend before she caught herself. The image of Ygritte's face flashed in her mind, and Aela felt a surge of malice so strong it startled her.

She would tear her apart.

The thought came swiftly, and for a moment, Aela didn't question it. But then, as the heat of the emotion faded, she sat back, frowning. Why did she care so much? What was it about Jon that had roused such fierce protectiveness—and, if she were honest with herself, jealousy?

She glanced down at him, her gaze softening. He looked so fragile now, so far removed from the quiet strength he usually carried. Seeing him like this made something deep within her chest ache, a feeling she couldn't quite name.

Jon stirred again, his lips moving without sound. She leaned closer, her sharp hearing picking up the faintest whisper.

"Wall... I have to... Wall..."

Aela frowned, brushing a strand of hair from his face. "You're not going anywhere yet," she said softly.

His eyes fluttered open briefly, glazed with fever. For a moment, they locked onto hers, and he tried to speak. "Aela..."

"I'm here," she said quickly, taking his hand in hers. "Rest, Jon. Just rest."

His fingers weakly squeezed hers before his eyes drifted shut again. Aela held his hand for a moment longer, her heart twisting.

----------

The hours stretched on, and Aela remained by Jon's side, feeding him small sips of water when he could manage it and cooling his fever as best she could.

Her mind wandered back to her earlier thoughts of Ygritte. The intensity of her emotions unsettled her. She had always been protective of her kin, her people—but this was different. This was personal.

The realization made her stomach twist. She cared for Jon, more deeply than she wanted to admit, and the thought of losing him—or of him choosing someone else—cut deeper than she had expected.

She shook her head, trying to clear the troubling thoughts. This wasn't the time for such feelings. Jon needed her focus, her strength.

Her hand brushed his hair again, her voice dropping to a near-whisper. "You're not allowed to die, you know," she said, her tone light but with an undercurrent of determination. "Not after I've come this far for you."

Jon didn't respond, but his breathing seemed to ease slightly as if her presence was enough to comfort him even in his fevered state.

Aela leaned back against the wall, her eyes never leaving him. Whatever it took, she would see him through this.

While Jon rested, Aela wrestled with her own thoughts. Her decision to escort him to the Wall was final, but the implications weighed heavily on her. Returning to the Were clans after such an act of defiance would not be easy. Her father, Harvald, would not forgive her easily for abandoning her duties, even if it was to save a life.

And yet, the thought of leaving Jon alone, wounded and vulnerable, was unbearable.

She glanced at Jon, his face peaceful in sleep. The feelings he stirred in her were unfamiliar, a mix of fierce protectiveness and something deeper, more vulnerable. She didn't fully understand it, but she knew one thing with certainty: she would see him to safety, no matter the cost.

And if the wildlings came, she would be ready.

----------

The fire had burned low, the glow of embers casting faint flickers of light across the cramped shack. Jon stirred on the pallet, his breathing no longer labored but still shallow. His fever had broken during the night, though the wounds on his side and shoulder remained raw and tender.

Aela sat on a stool near the hearth, sharpening her blade in slow, deliberate strokes. Her keen ears picked up the shift in Jon's breathing, a telltale sign he was waking. She set the blade down and moved to his side, her brown eyes scanning his face.

Jon's eyes fluttered open, their familiar grey finding hers. He blinked, his gaze sharpening despite the lingering haze of exhaustion. "Aela," he murmured, his voice rough.

"I'm here," she replied softly, kneeling beside him. "How do you feel?"

"Alive," he muttered, attempting a wry smile that faltered as he winced. "Thanks to you."

Aela's lips quirked, but her expression remained serious. "Don't thank me yet. You're not out of the woods." She reached for the water bowl, soaking a cloth to dab gently at his brow.

Jon sighed, the cool sensation easing some of his discomfort. "How long... before I can move?"

"A fortnight," Aela replied firmly. "You'll be well enough to make the journey to the Wall by then. I'll escort you before I journey home."

Jon's eyes widened slightly, alarm flickering across his face. "You'd go back through the gorge? Alone?"

Aela nodded, her tone calm but resolute. "It's the only way. The way I came."

Jon shifted, trying to prop himself up, but Aela's hand pressed lightly against his chest, urging him back down. "You shouldn't have risked that for me," he said, his voice low but laced with emotion. "It's too dangerous."

"I would've risked more," she admitted, her gaze steady. "I couldn't leave you to die, Jon. Not after..." She trailed off, her voice softening. "Not after what we've shared."

Jon's expression wavered between gratitude and something deeper, though he didn't yet have the words to name it. "I've no right to ask this of you. Your people—"

"Will understand," she interrupted firmly, though the slight hesitation in her voice betrayed her uncertainty. She glanced away, the weight of her decision settling heavily on her shoulders. "This is something I must do."

Jon studied her, his brow furrowed. "Aela..." He hesitated, then reached for her hand. "Thank you. For everything."

----------

As the days passed, Jon's strength returned bit by bit, though the pain in his wounds reminded him of how close he'd come to death. Aela remained a constant presence, tending to him with a quiet determination that left him both comforted and unsettled.

He couldn't shake the memory of her confession—that she had risked her life to save his. It wasn't just the danger of crossing the gorge that haunted him, but the fact that she had chosen him, a southerner (considered by those beyond the wall) and a crow, over her own safety.

At night, when the fever dreams receded, he would watch her as she kept vigil by the fire. Her profile, sharp and fierce, seemed almost otherworldly in the dim light. She was unlike anyone he'd ever known—strong, selfless, and deeply loyal.

Jon found himself drawn to her in ways he couldn't fully understand. It wasn't love—not yet—but there was a bond between them that felt strong. He couldn't help but think that maybe in another lifetime she'd be his. He could only wish it and dream it.

----------

South of the Wall

The woods were still, the faint rustle of leaves barely audible over the sound of Jon's labored breaths. Aela dismounted first, her boots crunching softly on the frozen ground. She turned to steady Jon as he swung his leg over the saddle and eased himself down with a grimace, his injuries still far from healed.

"Careful," she murmured, her hands on his arms to keep him steady.

Once he was steady, Aela took the reins of the mare and led her a few steps away. She patted the mare's neck, her fingers brushing through the thick mane as if to soothe herself. The Wall loomed in the distance, the black gate barely visible through the frost-laden trees.

Jon stared ahead at his destination. His grey eyes scanned the Wall's towering expanse in the distance, the black gate barely visible from their vantage point. Relief and apprehension warred within him.

Aela stepped back, stroking the mare's mane as if to distract herself. Her brown eyes, shadowed with exhaustion, lifted to meet his. "This is where we part," she said quietly, a soft smile curving her lips though her gaze was heavy with sadness. "It'll be safer for you if I don't come closer."

Jon nodded, though his jaw tightened. "You'll have a perilous journey back. I should..." He hesitated, his voice trailing off. The Wall needed him, but his heart pulled in another direction. "I should go with you."

Aela shook her head, her smile faint but firm. "We both know the Wall needs you more than I do, Jon. Your brothers will need every hand they can get for what's coming. And I'll manage."

The thought of her navigating the brutal winter, hostile wildlings, and worse—White Walkers—made Jon's chest ache with a worry he couldn't express. "I don't like leaving you to face this alone," he admitted, his voice low.

Aela stepped closer, placing a hand on his arm. "When the time is right, I'll reach out again. We'll meet once more."

Jon's lips pressed into a thin line. He glanced back at the Wall, then at her, the conflict clear in his eyes. "Take the horse," he said abruptly.

Aela shook her head, stepping back and placing the reins in his hand. "No. You'll need her more than I will. She'll get you to the Wall faster, and you're still not strong enough to make the journey on foot."

Jon looked down at the reins, then back at her. "You're risking your life for me, and now you're giving me the only chance you have to make it easier on yourself." His voice dropped to a near whisper. Jon's expression softened, though the weight of their parting was evident in his eyes. "You've done more for me than I deserve, Aela. Thank you." His voice carried the quiet sincerity that was unmistakably his.

Without another word, he mounted the horse, wincing as the movement jarred his injuries. He urged the mare forward, casting one last look over his shoulder at Aela. She stood still, her figure framed by the trees, watching him go.

Only when he disappeared into the distance did she turn and shift into her werewolf form. The transformation was swift, her limbs elongating, fur sprouting along her skin. With one last glance toward the Wall, she sprinted into the forest, heading toward the gorge.

----------

Were Caverns

The warmth of the Were Caverns was a stark contrast to the biting cold of the wilderness, but Aela felt no comfort as she was summoned to her father's chamber. Harvald sat in his carved wooden chair, his broad shoulders tense, his face a mask of barely restrained anger.

"You've returned," he said gruffly, rising as she stepped inside.

"Yes, Father," Aela replied, her voice steady despite the unease coiling in her chest.

"Close the door," he ordered.

The heavy wooden door shut with a dull thud, and for a moment, silence reigned. Then Harvald turned to her, his eyes blazing.

Aela didn't flinch, meeting his gaze with quiet resolve. "I did what I thought was right."

"What you thought was right?" Harvald echoed, his voice incredulous. "You left the Caverns, crossed the gorge, and risked your life for a crow. A southerner."

Her silence only seemed to enrage him further. "The world out there took your mother," he said, his voice breaking slightly, "and your brother. Do you think it will spare you?"

In a rare, impulsive outburst, he raised his hand and struck her across the face. The sound echoed in the chamber, sharp and loud.

Aela staggered but did not flinch. Tears welled in her eyes, slipping down her cheeks, but she remained silent, her head bowed.

Harvald's breathing was uneven, his hand trembling as he realized what he had done. Guilt and regret flashed across his face, but he quickly masked it with a gruff demeanor. "Go to your chambers," he ordered, his voice quieter but no less firm. "You are not to leave the Caverns. Not to patrol, not to hunt. Nowhere."

"Father—"

"You think with your heart, not your head," he interrupted, his tone heavy with both anger and sorrow. "You risked everything for a crow." His voice softened as he added, "I'm trying to protect you, Aela. And I will."

Without another word, he turned his back to her, his shoulders sagging under the weight of his emotions.

Aela blinked back more tears as two guards entered to escort her to her chambers. She followed them without resistance, her mind spinning with thoughts of Jon, her father, and the path she had chosen.

[esther-dot]

Hi Esther! Coming back to give some explanations!

To be king of a people within an existing kingdom is not Martin's invention. It is historical fact, as in the time of the great immigration in Europe different peoples (coalitions of tribes) were moving with their kings into the Roman empire.

However, in our analysis of Martin's book setup we tend to forget that the Gifts (both of them) do not belong to the kingdom, but to the Watch, which is why they declined as the Watch declined. I think that in the context of Jon being hailed as king of the FF Bran and Sansa will reaffirm the donation of the Gifts to the Watch, thus giving Jon a huge territory to rule over as a third kingdom. And I think that you are right, Jon will be in a unique position, to be able to act as mediator between the Northerners and their queen, and the FF, who are still wild. At the end of everything, it will still be very difficult for the Northerners to forget everything that has happened before, the raids and the abductions and the killings. Therefore, to accept the FF below the Wall will have to be done only if there is someone whom the Northernes will be able to trust. That person will be Jon.

Jon as king of the FF is very heavily foreshadowed. One piece of foreshadowing that points to the three rulers is, imo, their seeing the world from the highest position they can find. Jon repeatedly looks down from the Wall; Sansa from the highest tower in KL; and Bran from the tower of WF. (which is why I think that Aegon, looking down from the top of a warehouse is not the real thing). Daenerys as a ruler also receives the same handling by the author, looking down from the pyramid of Meereen. I dare say, this observation goes well with my three sword theory (yes, I am that anon, lol).

Need I point out that Mance wears Targaryen colors when he first meets Jon? Or that Jon thinks to himself "my kingdom... a blasted ruin" looking around in CB? Or that there is a castle at the Wall called Snow gate (renamed Queens gate), where the road leads from Queenscrown? And there is the Symeon Star-eyes story, which I expect to be repeated in a reversed mirror: Symeon falls madly in love with his corpse wife coming from the North and he establishes a rule of terror. Jon will fall in love with Sansa, flesh and blood, coming from the South, and their rule will be one of prosperity and peace.

I think that, in our anxiousness to see this character finally getting rewarded for his voluntary, repeated self-sacrifice on page, we expected to see him as king either of KL or WF, completely forgetting the FF. But neither ending works, because they are both sweet, and because too many objections can be raised based on the book structure and narrative. It is impossible to accomodate all loose ends with Jon as king in either positions. A small example (but others have been pointed out, some of them by you): why would the Northerners accept Jon as their king if he has dragged them to the KL genocide? Isn't that immoral? (the same question of course is 10x more relevant in the South) Isn't the overall message of the book completely f^^ed with such an ending? And what about the author's commentary on female rulership as in the stories of Catelyn, Cersei, Daenerys, Sansa? Can women not exist in positions of power without a man? Do they exist only for promoting male interests? If Jon becomes KitN he has indeed usurped Sansa's rights, which is inconsistent with everything Jon says and does since his first chapter.

Perhaps it is only me, but I think that Jon at the Wall, recognized as a ruler of the FF is consistent with his own story. It is truly bittersweet, it is rewarding, and leaves lots of space for hope, of peace, justice, growth, prosperity, even love in a manner that does no harm to anyone else. I'll be very surprised if Martin chooses something else for this character (and curious to see how he will come to it).

(continuation of this convo)

Thank you for coming back and talking about this more!

I think that, in our anxiousness to see this character finally getting rewarded for his voluntary, repeated self-sacrifice on page, we expected to see him as king either of KL or WF, completely forgetting the FF.

This is true of me. I was outraged by the show ending and thought Jon had no business being a leader of the FF, but there's a lot about how the way of life for the FF is ending, Ygritte has that song, "the Last of the Giants" and the sadness of losing what was permeates that storyline, so, permanently settling the Gift and everything that means for the FF does feel like a fait accompli.

That's also an interesting note about Mance. People have suggested he's actually Rhaegar because it's all so Targy, but I thought it was just R+L=J hints plus foreshadowing for Jon being moved by love for a woman in the future, Sansa, which fits with this:

And there is the Symeon Star-eyes story, which I expect to be repeated in a reversed mirror: Symeon falls madly in love with his corpse wife coming from the North and he establishes a rule of terror. Jon will fall in love with Sansa, flesh and blood, coming from the South, and their rule will be one of prosperity and peace.

Lovely!

Jon as king of the FF is very heavily foreshadowed. One piece of foreshadowing that points to the three rulers is, imo, their seeing the world from the highest position they can find. Jon repeatedly looks down from the Wall; Sansa from the highest tower in KL; and Bran from the tower of WF. (which is why I think that Aegon, looking down from the top of a warehouse is not the real thing). Daenerys as a ruler also receives the same handling by the author, looking down from the pyramid of Meereen.

This is interesting. I did think Aegon was real, not simply a red herring to distract us from R+L=J, but it's possible we will never know. Either way, I always thought Westeros would ultimately be under Stark rule, so Jon, Sansa, and Bran's foreshadowing works. I’m fascinated by the idea of each of the older Starks (Jon, Sansa, Bran) having a kingdom of their own to rebuild.

If Jon becomes KitN he has indeed usurped Sansa's rights, which is inconsistent with everything Jon says and does since his first chapter.

There’s dignity in your suggestion that’s very appealing to me. Rather than Jon's future being determined by family, and instead giving him the opportunity to build in his own name, on his own terms, that's a really positive outcome. I often think, but how would Jon feel about this? When considering possible future events, and so many things seem just, riddled with traps for him, things he'd never be able to overcome the shame of. That's the major barrier for me and the Jon KitN idea. If he accepts he'd feel awful for "usurping" Sansa (even if she supported him) and then post parentage reveal, he'd feel even worse.

However, in our analysis of Martin's book setup we tend to forget that the Gifts (both of them) do not belong to the kingdom, but to the Watch, which is why they declined as the Watch declined.

Yes! I mentioned that here once:

The fact that this is an old Stark grievance and Ned and Benjen had plans to deal with it is very promising. Rectifying that old wrong, making the land safe and purposeful again, that definitely seems like it would fit really well as part of the endgame.

I suppose I thought perhaps Jon would be Lord Commander and turn that over to Sansa, but if he instead, due to his relationship with the FF, oversees it, it allows him to carry out Ned's wishes himself.

Perhaps it is only me, but I think that Jon at the Wall, recognized as a ruler of the FF is consistent with his own story. It is truly bittersweet, it is rewarding, and leaves lots of space for hope, of peace, justice, growth, prosperity, even love in a manner that does no harm to anyone else.

So, in this ending, Jon and Sansa would never be able to offocial marry? How do you think carrying on the Stark line would be resolved?