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blasphoeme · 6 years ago

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Omg it’s YOUUUUUUU!!!!! 😍😍😍😍😍 Hello you!!!!! You sneaky girl!

Thank you soooo much!!!! I LOVE THIS!!! You don’t suck! I love everything about this fic. Look at our babies being so cuteeeee and shy! Tyrion was a hoot hahah. And you really managed to set this one Dragonstone! This missing scene is everything awww! I can see this happening in canon. I love that “I’ve grown used to him” line used in this situation eeeee!

This was such a good story my friend! 😘😘😘

Better off

A Jonerys Secret Santa gift for the lovely @phoebemaybe!

Hope this doesn’t suck! Happy Holidays either way lmao!

Summary: Just a few days after the decision to bring a wight to Cersei is made, Daenerys and Jon struggle with the sudden wave of emotions at the realization they’re about to say goodbye to each other without having done something about the feelings they feel for one another.

Veery loosely inspired by these lyrics by Ariana Grande:

Steering clear of any headaches to start

And if we’re being honest

I’d rather your body than half of your heart

Or jealous-ridden comments

That come when you let in them feelings that I don’t want

I never let ‘em know too much

Hate gettin’ too emotional, oh, yeah

I’m better off without him

I’m better off being a wild one

Dany’s POV

Daenerys fought the urge to bite her bottom lip as her Hand went on about the details of the plan she honestly wanted to hear and know nothing about. All she could think about was the genius man behind the plan and her own wishful plans that definitely included that man.

That man.

Truth was, she didn’t think she would be able to let him go and not make a scene that would haunt her with embarrassment to the end of her very days, regardless of whether he would show any interest in staying with her as well. It would just not be acceptable for her to act like a helpless girl in love with a warrior, desperate for him to spend just one more night in her bed. She was the warrior and she had to remember that.

She reached with her hand to grab her goblet, once filled with the red wine Tyrion was so fond of, only to find it completely empty. Had she really already drank it all? She looked at her short friend and saw him smirking under his thick mustache that could definitely use a trim, if not to be shaven off entirely.

“Did you enjoy the wine, Your Grace?” he asked, still with that infuriating curve to his lips. She smiled politely and rested her back on her chair once again, putting her palms over the ornate hand rests.

“Your taste is most excellent, My Lord. The only con I can think of is it being gone too soon. “ That wasn’t a lie, as she couldn’t even remember taking one sip, for which her occupied mind was surely to be blamed.

“Yes, I imagine, as you haven’t even got the chance to try it.” She raised one thick eyebrow, confused at her Hand’s words and then stiffened for a fraction of a second as she realized that her friend has been playing games with her, making fun of her mind being somewhere else, and she knew he could guess exactly where it was – a floor above them, in the temporary chambers of the King in the North.

King in the North.

The title that once irritated and insulted her was now bringing a pleasant ache to her heart and a small smile to her lips. And then she remembered the conversation that took place s few days ago in the very room they were sitting in right now.

The smile didn’t even manage to show on her lips before her mood changed drastically, making her swallow loudly, before she finally gave her companion a dry reply. She wondered whether her cup has never been filled by him at all or whether he’s the one who had emptied it without her noticing. She decided it’d be too humiliating to have to ask.

“I’m sorry, my Lord. I’m feeling a bit under the weather. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll retire to my chambers” she said, rising from her seat. He took one more sip before he put the goblet down and stood, jumping to his feet from the high chair, to properly bid her goodbye.

“Of course, Your Grace. I’m sure you could use the rest. Until the morrow.” He nodded at her, a knowing spark in his eyes that she chose to ignore.

She could deal with Tyrion and his teasing, she thought, she knew he didn’t judge her at a personal level, he had enough of that himself to try to do it to another person. It was herself and her own mind that she didn’t trust. She once thought no man could ever manage to do that to her again. Weaken her in a way. And she was afraid of what was to come. What would happen when he returned from beyond the Wall. And what would happen to her if he didn’t.

Jon’s POV

The chilly and salty air filled his lungs as he took another deep sigh, letting it out as he looked over the line where the dark waters met the darkening sky. The sky that just a couple hours ago was the color of the Queen’s eyes. The Queen, he thought again to himself. How quickly he started to consider her as such. Truth was, he would have bent the knee during their first meeting, weren’t it for what that gesture would have meant for his homeland. The simple action of him falling on one knee before anyone had the power of uniting two nations. He never thought he’d come to wish that he was just a bastard again, meaningless but whose decisions and consequences were his own to bear.

He felt another sudden wave of respect for Daenerys. Her next move was also the next move for the Dothraki, the Unsullied the houses whose loyalties she acquired, and the next chapter in history of their world. And she still stood with her chin up, not noticing or simply ignoring the weight on her shoulders. Perhaps she was just meant to play politics. He certainly didn’t think he was.

But his people chose him, so he was going to do things the way he felt in his heart was right. Leading him to make the decision to go back beyond the Wall, this time as a King. Stupid as the plan might be, it was the only way he could see to getting any chance to a treaty with the Lannister Queen. It did cross his mind for a quarter of a second to get Daenerys to fly North on her dragons to see and capture a wight with the help of a handful of soldiers she’d pick, but the thought made its way out of his brain before he even considered it seriously. It’d be too dangerous and she wasn’t the one needing to prove his points, he was.

“All by yourself out here, my Lord?”

He turned his head around so fast, he thought it’d snap off his neck. And there stood the Dragon Queen in all her glory, in a grey dress - or was it a coat? - with her silver hair flowing slightly in the wind – expect for the ones braided at the top of her head, of course - the curls getting tangled in a way that made him want to brush his fingers through them and put some safely behind her ear.

He wasn’t sure what to do, he definitely couldn’t bow, but he couldn’t just ignore her arrival either, it just didn’t agree with him and his respect admiration towards her. He decided a slight nod of his head was better than nothing. She nodded back with a slight smirk, that he wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn’t been observing and getting to know her the past few weeks. She made her way closer to him as he turned back to looking pointlessly to the horizon.

“Don’t see who I could have brought with me, Your Grace, ” he replied when she was standing just a step to his right.

She joined her gloved hands in front of her abdomen, her head still facing the sea. “I take that Ser Davos is not one for an evening rendez-vous?”

He made an amused sound with his throat and shook his head, his eyes never leaving their spot in the middle of the still darkening sky. “I think those years are behind him”, he joked.

Her face turned slightly to him, showing her amused expression. “Are you calling your Hand too old, my Lord?”

“Too tired and busy for those sort of things. Not that I ever stood a chance, of course.“ His voice was serious enough to conceal the joke, but his face gave him away, at least to her knowing eyes.

They stood in a pleasant silence for a while before she spoke again, seemingly having been gathering courage this whole time. Her voice was as queenly as ever, but he could tell from how she played with her gloved fingers that something was clearly bothering her.

“Are you?“

He was caught off guard and took a second before finally deciding he needed help to understand.

“I’m sorry, Your Grace, am I what?

He could swear he saw her biting her lip. “Are you too tired and busy for ‘those sorts of things‘?”

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it was definitely nothing of this sort. Forming an answer that wouldn’t humiliate him took a moment, and as he was finally starting to try and speak, she cleared her throat.

“I’m sorry, that was very forward of me. It’s none of my business. I swear to not put you I such an uncomfortable place ever again, my Lord, “she said, barely ending the last sentence before she was on her way back to the castle, her heel leaving a mark on the green grass of the cliff.

The reality of the situation hit him as he watched her leaving form.

Was it possible that a fraction of her heart felt the same way as he did?

Could he leave the next morning if he knew it did?

Dany’s POV

What in seven hells was she thinking?

Even her steps sounded angry as she neared the end of the candle-lit hallway, where her chambers were,waiting for her to hide herself in their comforting familiarity

How stupid she was to have considered the possibilities of what his love and her love for him would do to her, how weak she’d get if she had a lover. He didn’t even see her as she did him and now she humiliated herself in front of her – hopefully – closest ally. She’d spent days fantasizing about all the what if’s like a blushing maiden, made herself vulnerable and it was all for nothing. All she accomplished was embarrassment and an aching heart.

She opened the door and slammed it shut once she stepped in, welcoming the well-known scent of her room. She knew Missandei could probably hear how loud she was being, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

She sat on her soft bed as she replayed the scene from a few moments ago back in her head for what felt like the hundredth time.

Maybe it wasn’t that bad, she thought. Maybe he’d think she was just asking about his love life?

She sighed deeply as she rested her palms on her knees, playing with her own fingers before she took her gloves off and threw them somewhere to her left, knowing already that she’d be looking for them the next day.

She heard a knock and she knew it must be Missandei, curious as to why her Queen was acting out on her furniture. She got up, sighing once again as she did, and walked to the door, opening it widely without a second thought. Instead of her friend, though, she saw the grim face of the northern King. She let her hand fall freely, too surprised to stop it.

“I am not”, he said, not offering any other explanation. She immediately knew what he meant, though, and she felt her heart skip a beat.

“I am not a poet, “he spoke again, his deep eyes never leaving hers, “I can’t make words sound as beautiful as you deserve them to be, but I want you to know that I am still a man, Your Grace.”

She desperately wanted to urge him to admit more, reveal more, but she knew he couldn’t, and neither could she.

“I know I have no right to any assurances, but I need to know if you’re… “, he didn’t seem to be able to find a fitting word, as scared of the only appropriate word as she was.

“… if you’ve grown…. used to me.”

She couldn’t help the laughter that left her lips. The words sounded pretty ridiculous, but she definitely got the hidden meaning behind them, mostly because of his solemn expression and that something in his eyes she was too scared to name.

“You really are not a poet, my Lord.” She couldn’t stop laughing as she observed his face getting slightly redder.

When she stopped, there was only one thing she could think to say. Only one thing she could say.

“Return to me, Jon Snow. In one piece. I don’t want this to mean as much as any confession of a warrior going into battle does.”

She could see him starting to form an objection, but she let him know with her eyes that her decision was final.

“Goodnight, Jon Snow.”

She closed the door in front of his face.

Maybe she wasn’t being rational. But she knew that getting him, starting a relationship with him now would hurt a thousandfold more if he were to die on his trip. And she knew how desperate for womanly affection soldiers going into battle could be. But admittedly, most of what made her make that decision was her fear. Fear and a need of some time to clear her head, to consider her emotions and what they meant.

But she already knew she would regret it all, come their final goodbye.

#ahsgsisvs #my santa rules!#everyone read this please!!!#😍😍😍😍

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