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Plot Twist
Winter Is Coming, and Summer Is Never Coming Back.
Continuar lendo
Eastwatch
This is my one-shot for what I think will happen in episode 6 between Jon and Dany. This has major spoilers, so read at your own risk.
Pairing: Jon/Daenerys
The wall looked eerily beautiful during the early moonlight hours. What a bewitchingly beautiful disguise for what the wall represented? Was this giant block of ice supposed to protect the realm from the icy death that lay ahead? After what Dany had just witnessed, she knew the wall wouldn’t stop these monsters.
She had arrived at Eastwatch-By-The-Sea on Drogon’s back with Rhagael not far behind. The odd group of men with her. The Hound, Beric Donndarian, Ser Jorah Mormont, and Tormund Giantsbane were quite the characters as they sat quietly around the small wooden bench. The whole ride from beyond the wall back to Eastwatch was silent. Drogon coasted through the winter chill with a speed faster than normal. It had only taken an hour to arrive back at dingy old castle that sat carved into the massive wall of ice. So much had been lost in the last day.
Dany faced the window so the men wouldn’t see the tears strolling down her face. Her normally regal hairstyle of braids riddled with snow and dirt and her dressed ripped to almost shreds, but she didn’t care. She could feel Ser Jorah’s eyes on her back, but he knew better than to disturb her.
Jorah watched Dany as she looked out the window overlooking the moon. He knew that his queen was suffering and there wasn’t much he could do about it. Jorah knew the loss of one of her children must be weighing heavy on her heart. He had been there when Viseron had been brought to life when Dany had walked out Khal Drogo’s pyre without a burn on her body.
Jorah hadn’t expected to be chasing after ice zombies when he returned to his Khalessi, but he would serve her wherever she would go. He volunteered to go by himself to catch one of these wights. She had a look of shock on her face when he offered, but a look of resignation that she would accept his proposal for it had to be done.
Jon Snow butted in on his proposal and offered to go as well. Wasn’t this Jorah’s time to finally win his Khalessi’s heart? He had been overshadowed by Drogo, and then the cunt Daario. Finally, when she had crossed the sea and Daario had stayed behind, Jorah believed his affections might be returned. He had gone to the ends of the earth to cure his greyscale to get back to his queen. When he arrived on the cliff top to greet his queen, this so called “King in the North” was talking to her. Jorah knew right then; his chances were shot to hell…again.
Jorah had noticed Dany’s affection for Jon Snow the moment he laid eyes on them together. He had seen Jon Snow shared this affection when he bitterly scoured at him when Dany embraced him. Jorah noticed every time Dany would look at Jon when he proposed his plan to lead the suicide mission she’d have the look of a woman lost. Jorah had seen this look on his Queen before, when her Khal was on the brink of death. This look he had seen, but something different lie underneath her eyes when she said farewell to Jon Snow on the beach at Dragonstone. Stone cold fear was lying underneath her violet gaze. Jorah realized then that Dany didn’t just care for Jon Snow, she was in love with him. That’s why she risked her life by coming with her three dragons beyond the wall to rescue them all.
As disappointed that he was that his love would never be returned, he felt pity for her. He never wanted to see his Queen in such despair. He knew her sadness came from the death of her beloved child, but now that she believed Jon to be gone she had lost all hope. All Jorah could do was be there to comfort and support her when she needed it.
This lost love would be one his queen would never return from.
“What in the seven hells do we do now? “Tormund said with a sad sigh. Tormund didn’t care for much, but Jon Snow had become one of this best friends. He took a chug of the bitter ale.
“We do as the King commanded. He didn’t risk his life going beyond the wall for us to sit here and bitch like little cunts. Get off our fucking asses and take this walking dead man to that bitch Cersei and get the armies gathered to slaughter these dead fuckers.” The Hound stated.
“The ugly man is right. Jon would have wanted us to finish what we started. These fuckers are going to breech the wall any day now.” Tormund exaggerated.
The Hound gave him a look that could kill. “Who you calling an ugly man? You red-haired twat.”
“Will you stop with the slurs? We need to face the reality that the wights are coming for us all. This parlay with the bitch queen is our last hope.” Davos said.
“The King is dead. What hope should we have left?” Gendry said.
When Gendry said this about Jon, Daenerys turned and stormed out of the room.
“What the hell is the dragon bitch doing?” Tormund yelled.
“Will you have some respect? She saved our asses out there. If it weren’t for her and the flying beasts, we’d be ice men by now.” Beric yelled at Tormund.
Jorah stepped out of the room and followed Dany.
He found her in a small study with a desk and an old table with her head in her hands.
“My queen, do you need anything?” Jorah looked at her with sad eyes.
Dany finally looked up at Jorah with a puffy, red face and the saddest eyes he had ever seen.
“My child is dead, Ser Jorah. The man I lo..” Dany stopped herself short. “The King is dead, and it is my fault. I could have saved him.” She cried.
Jorah put a hand on Dany’s shoulder. “My queen, there is nothing you could have done. The King fell off the dragon. If we would have stayed, we all would have died. Surely he wouldn’t have wanted that?’
Dany just put her head back in her hands and cried.
Jorah knew he was going to cross the line with this question, but he had to know.
“Do you love him, My queen?”
Dany looked at Jorah with surprise in her eyes, but she didn’t try to hide the utter despair in them.
“Does it matter now?”
Suddenly screams were coming from outside the castle. Dany shot up and ran to the main hall where Gendry, Tormund, and Beric were opening the gate.
Dany couldn’t believe her eyes.
It was Jon on a horse, slouched over looking like he was on the brink of death.
Dany fainted into Ser Jorah’s arms.
Hours later, Dany came to in a small chamber. Jorah was by her side watching her intently.
She shot up with a throbbing headache.
“What happened?” Dany said in a hoarse voice.
“My Queen, please lay back down you need your rest.” Jorah pleaded.
Memories splayed across Dany’s mind as she stared at the wall.
A raven from Eastwatch. Tyrion’s pleas for her not to go. “Your our last best hope against the coming storm.” He had said. The sprint she made towards her dragons. The pounding off the seas underneath her as she rode Drogon off the cliffs of Dragonstone. The cold wind whipping against her hair as she flies as fast as the dragon could go to Eastwatch. The giant wall of ice glaring at her as she passed it. Davos staring up at her when she flew by Eastwatch. The horror as she approached the army of the dead. So, Jon had been telling the truth this whole time? She believed him, but doubt always creeped in. The screams of Thoros as the ice polar bear ripped his flesh. The flaming sword Beric was wielding towards the ice men. The dragons fire as she screamed for them to burn these monsters alive. The Hound capturing the lone wight. Drogon’s pounding roar when he reached the ground below to pick up the men. The screech Viseron made when an ice spear hit his chest. Her child sinking into a frozen lake. The horror that bloomed in her stomach as she watched her child take his last breath. Drogon and Rhagaels fiery breath on the dead men who surrounded Jon and the men. The men coming on the dragon. Jon beating a wight off him when he tried to mount onto Drogon. The feel of his hand when it slipped out of hers. Jon falling into a frozen lake. The scream that came out of her when Jon went under. “We have to go!” Tormund screamed at her. Drogon’s flapping of wings and soaring into the winter sky. The icy blue eyes of the Night King gazing into her. The feeling of hopelessness squeezing her heart. Her child gone to an icy death. The only man she ever loved taken from her before they even began. Dany cried the whole ride back to the wall.
“Where is he?” Dany yelled at Jorah.
“Khalessi, you must rest. You fainted when he arrived.”
Dany grabbed Jorah by the collar. “Where is he? I need to see him.” Dany cried.
Jorah didn’t fight with his queen. He got up and made for the King’s chambers.
Dany shot up out of the bed and followed him.
Tormund guarded the door to Jon’s room.
Dany pushed past Ser Jorah and tried to push past Tormund, but the wildlings might too much for her.
“I need to see if he’s alright!” Dany cried as she pounded her fists into Tormund’s chest.
Tormund knew there was no sense in trying to fight the fiery little queen. She had the strength of steel for someone so small. He even found himself pitying the sad woman.
“He is recovering in here.You can see him but keep your bitch mouth shut.”
Dany would have burned Tormund alive if it was any other time for calling her those words, but she didn’t care. She opened the door to the room quietly. Jorah tried to follow her, but she pushed him back.
As she entered the small room which was lit with only a small fire and candlelight, she was filled with relief. He was unconscious with bruises all over his chest and legs, but he was alive. That was all that mattered. She sat next to him and reached for his hand. She entwined her fingers with his. Tears were still streaming down her face as she looked at him. She noticed the scars that splayed all over his chest. This is what Ser Davos meant when he took a knife to the heart.
Tears fell onto this chest as she traced the jagged scars. She stopped over the one on his heart. He could have been taken from me before we even met. What vile pig had stabbed him? How had he come back to life? Her thoughts wondered to all the things he must have suffered along the way.
A hand grabbed hers as she stared at him.
“Your Grace.” Jon said as he opened his eyes and adjusted to the dimly lit room. He felt like shit. He should be dead if it weren’t for his uncle.
“Did we get the wight?” was the first thing he said to her.
Dany was just staring at him with a look of relief and happiness on her face. Her hand held his so tightly, he thought she might draw blood. Her eyes were red and tears stained her cheeks.
“Yes, the mission was a success. We have the wight.” she said in a strained voice.
He smiled a faint smile at her. She smiled sadly at him. She raised her hand and stroked the scar on his temple. He leaned into the contact.
“I thought you were dead.” She cried.
“It seems the gods don’t want me gone yet.” He replied with a slight tease in his voice.
“Don’t do that to me again.”
Jon looked at her. Her hair was bloodied and dirty, and her dress ripped to shreds. She never looked more beautiful he thought. Jon had been denying his growing feelings for her over the past few weeks. There’s no time for that. He had told Davos. That seemed like years ago.
Looking at her now, he couldn’t deny the connection between them. She had risked her life and her children to come rescue them. Gone was the cold, demanding queen who constantly asked him to bend the knee. Before him was the real Dany, a young, compassionate, strong woman. A woman who loved her people and would do anything to save the realm. He didn’t need to deny himself anymore, he was falling in love with her. Jon then remembered it.
“The dragon. I’m sorry.”
She looked away with despair, “The costs of war.”
She looked back at him with a depth of sadness in her eyes.
“My dragons are the only children I will ever have; do you understand that?”
Jon knew what she meant by this, but he didn’t care.
“Yes.” He replied with a nod of understanding.
Dany’s saddened eyes went to a determined, fierce gaze.
“I will go North with you and defeat this night king and the army of the dead. You have my word.” She said with fierce determination.
He doesn’t know what possessed him to call her this, but it just came without warning.
“Thank you, Dany.”
She looked at his with a surprised look and smiled.
The last time someone had called her Dany was when her brother was killed with melted gold. Then name always reminded her of horrible things, but coming from him it was the sweetest thing she had ever heard.
She smiled at him. “My brother was the only one who used to call me that. I don’t think I’ve heard the name since.”
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking, Your Grace.”
She squeezed his hand and smiled at him radiantly. “Dany. You can call me Dany.”
He smiled at her and looked down at his naked, battered body. “I’d bend the knee. But.”
She looked shocked. “What about those who pledged their allegiance to you?”
“It doesn’t matter now. You have promised to help us fight the army of the dead and that’s what I asked of you. You asked me to bend the knee and I refused. I see now that I was wrong. You believed in me when no one else would and saved my men from the death of the walkers. I see no point in squabbling over lands that may lay in ice when the war is over. I have no qualms in helping you in the war with Cersei when the dead are defeated. The Lords will understand in time.”
This time it was Jon’s turn to be shocked.
“I don’t want the North. I won’t require you to bend the knee when the war is over. Your people chose you as their king because they put their faith in you to lead them and protect them. They should have the king they chose. I will not fight you on the issue of the north. The real threat is here, and we need to band together to beat these monsters.” Dany said respectfully.
Jon looked at her with a tenderness in his gaze. “Thank you.”
Dany looked at him back intensely. The tension between them coming to a burning flame. She had denied herself from feeling anything for so long. Jon Snow came into her life and reignited the flames within her soul. She never wanted to leave his side even if death was at their doorstep.
She didn’t know if it was the weight of the moment, or the relief she had felt when she saw him breathing. She looked in eyes and saw the same emotion she had running through her.
Dany stared into his eyes as if asking for permission. Jon just looked at her with the same passion.
Dany removed her hands from his grasp and cupped his face in her hands. She doesn’t know if he leaned up or she leaned down, but their lips collided like a spark being lit into a burning flame.
Jon raised his hands as high as he could to her head without feeling the extent of her injuries. He kissed her with a passion he didn’t even know he had in him. She slid her tongue on his lower lip begging for entrance and he let her in. She tasted like salty tears and sweet summer wine. How had waited this long to kiss her?
Dany glided her hand to the back of his head, careful not to make him lean to far up to feel his injuries, and she kissed him fiercely. Her tongue darted in his mouth and their mouths danced like a wildfire. Dany felt a jolt of desire run through her stomach and it pooled between her thighs. When had kissing become more meaningful than sex? She didn’t know, but she never wanted this moment to end.
When the need for breath arised, Jon slowly pulled away from her mouth and rested his forehead against hers. His hands stayed in her hair, and her hands on his cheeks. He released a shaky breath and kept his eyes closed basking in the moment. He knew loved her then.
Dany kept her forehead on his and calmed her breathing. She wanted to live in this moment forever. White walkers, the Night king, and Cersei be damned. She didn’t even know if she had the desire for the throne anymore. Her thought drifted to a house with a red door. Westeros was her birth home, but it never felt like home here. Maybe she was never meant to sit on the throne, maybe she was meant to come here and fight with him. I have found my home. She thought as she leaned in to gently kiss him.
This kiss was gentle and soft, far different than the passionate one they just shared. Dany poured all her heart into this one. She wanted him to know he wasn’t alone anymore. She would fight for the North. She would fight for him.
After the kiss broke, she finally leaned up and looked into his eyes. They shined with a different light than she had seen before.
He stroked the side of her cheek and smiled at her.
A knock on the door broke their gaze.
Davos came in and broke the moment.
“I see you are doing better, your grace.” He spoke to Jon, but it was meant for both of them.
Dany knew Ser Davos wanted to speak to Jon alone.
She squeezed Jon’s hand one more time and stood up.
“I will leave you two to discuss your business.” She said softly.
Dany was headed for the door when Jon called her.
“Dany, come back later tonight please?”
She smiled brightly at him, “Of course, my lord.”
He smiled the smile only reserved for her.
Dany walked back to her chambers with a new hope. She wasn’t going to let the Night King ruin her chance at saving her people. She was going to win this war with fire and blood. He may have taken one of her children, but she still had two left. She would be damned if he took anything else from her.
He wouldn’t take Jon. She would make sure of that. She would die before she’d let him take Jon.
She would go this parlay with Cersei Lannister and burn her alive if she doesn’t agree.
Nothing would stop the dragon within her from protecting all she loved.
She would win this war against the army of the dead. She would do it for her people, and for him.
She watched the moon glow over the wall.
Her eyes filled with determination.
Her heart filled with love for a brooding northern king.
An Honest Mistake
This is probably one of my favorite prompt ideas I’ve ever gotten honestly. @mikimiska113 , I love this so much!
Takes place on Dragonstone. More alcohol involved lol
Jon hadn’t known what to expect when Tyrion had invited him to his solar late at night for a ‘serious discussion’ but it hadn’t been a drinking game with him and Grey Worm.
He poured himself another glass, knowing even as he topped it off that he should stop now before he did something he would regret later. But he also knew that he wouldn’t; it was nice, in a way, to just be able to talk freely about nothing of consequence with a couple of friends (at least, he hoped Grey Worm was a friend; it was hard to tell sometimes with the Unsullied commander) without worrying about what would happen on the morrow.
“The last time you lay with someone,” Tyrion said, looking at both of them with eyes that were barely bloodshot, even though he’d drank more wine than both of the others combined. “Lord Snow, you’re first.”
He toyed with the rim of his glass, not looking at either of them. “Several years,” he muttered as he took another long sip.
Tyrion almost spat out his wine. “Several years? I would have supposed the first thing you did once you left the Night’s Watch would be to find a woman to lie with.” Jon noticed he didn’t say anything about how Jon had broken his vows; doubtless he’d already guessed. The Lannister had always seemed to know things without anyone telling him.
“Didn’t find the right woman. I’m still looking.”
“If you wanted to, there are brothels near the harbor-”
He shrugged. “Whores have never been my type.” Not after his own mother had likely been one; he wouldn’t condemn an innocent child to his fate.
“Well, you have more restraint than I do.” Tyrion turned to Grey Worm, who took another sip from his glass. “And what about you, Grey Worm? I’m sure there are other ways you can find pleasure, even without your…parts.”
The soldier nodded, stone faced. “Several days ago.”
This time Tyrion really did spit out his wine. “Did you really? I was expecting it would take at least another month. Was it Missandei?”
Grey Worm nodded again, still expressionless.
“Well, that’s excellent. Congratulations. As for myself…I have to confess, I haven’t lay with anyone since right before I left Meereen. Being the Hand to the Queen is quite time consuming and I haven’t had the time or interest to explore the harbor.” He spoke casually and drank more wine; Jon wondered just how much he was used to drinking, because he was already starting to feel sick.
“She’s quite a woman,” Jon replied. He couldn’t imagine having that job the Dragon Queen was fiercely passionate about the causes she cared about, but also fiery and impulsive. She may not have been her father, but many of her Targaryen traits were readily apparent.
“That she is. Her heart is in the right place…she just isn’t always certain how to go about accomplishing her goals. Very like someone else I know.”
Jon reddened. “She’s quite determined.”
“She wouldn’t have gotten very far if she’d been anything less. Certainly not to the place she is now. Grey Worm, what do you think we should do about Cersei Lannister?”
“I am not strong at diplomacy, only at battle. We could overrun the city easily, within a day…but the Queen will not, because she does not wish to hurt innocents. But we are running out of choices; the longer we allow the Mad Queen to rally her forces the more likely that she will attack in a way that we will have trouble repelling.”
“You’re a ray of sunshine, aren’t you?” Grey Worm didn’t answer. “What would you do, Jon Snow, if you were in our position?”
Jon shrugged. “I have no place-”
“Hypothetically. The Queen seems to value your counsel; you stopped her from burning the Red Keep to the ground.”
“It doesn’t matter what I say, what any of us do, if we don’t confront the threat to the North.”
“I don’t know much about the White Walkers, but I’m beginning to think that you bring them up whenever you don’t want to talk about something.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
Tyrion smirked, refilling his glass and Jon’s without being asked. “You’re not as clever as you believe you are, Lord Snow. Not so good at hiding your emotions. Or maybe I’m just used to seeing people in love-God knows my siblings were always giving each other eyes, even when we were growing up. I know what a man looks like when he’s undressing a woman with his eyes.”
Jon felt the back of his neck redden. “I did nothing of the sort.”
“He did, didn’t he Grey Worm?”
Jon silently pleaded with Grey Worm, hoping he could find an ally, but the soldier only looked slightly more interested. “He watches the Queen whenever he believes she’s not looking.”
“That’s not true-” Jon protested.
“Grey Worm is a skilled soldier of the most highly disciplined army in the known world. Forgive me if I believe him more than I believe you. New round: we’ll ask you a question and you give us an answer. If we think you’re lying, you have to take another drink.”
He already knew he’d feel ill in the morning. “I shouldn’t-”
“A drink or two won’t hurt you. Trust me. I would know.”
Jon sighed, already knowing the night wouldn’t end any other way. “Fine. But just a couple of questions.”
“Do you love our queen?”
“No.”
Tyrion rolled his eyes. “You’ll have to try harder than that. Take a drink.” Grey Worm looked amused as he nodded, and his eyes almost looked like they were laughing as Jon took another drink. “Do you want to kiss her?”
“No.”
“Take a drink. You’re a terrible liar-which is the only reason why I even believe in these White Walkers you’re so dead set on.”
He could feel the alcohol taking effect and briefly Jon wondered whether this had been Tyrion’s intention all along, to ascertain to how deep his feelings for Dany went. “She’s…not what I expected.”
“If it’s any comfort, she loves you too. She’s never looked at anyone the way she looks at you. It would be sweet perhaps, if it weren’t so inconvenient.”
“It doesn’t matter anyway. In a few days I’ll be gone and she’ll never have to deal with me again.”
“Do you really think she wants that?” Tyrion refilled his glass, opening another bottle of wine. “I’ve been thinking about this and…I may have found a solution.”
This should be good. “And what kind of solution were you thinking of?”
“A marriage.”
It was Jon’s turn to choke on his drink. “What?”
“It makes perfect sense; you’ll both have to marry at some point, and if I know my history correctly the Starks don’t have the same propensity for marrying siblings that the Targaryens do. You’ll both keep your crowns and combine your forces.”
For just a second he allowed himself to entertain the idea. “I don’t-”
Tyrion shrugged. “It’s just a suggestion. But it may give you what you’re looking for-and a little more besides.”
“That’s not a decision I can make now, without consulting my advisors.”
“Will you have the time to talk to them?”
He took another drink. Using my own words against me? Clever. He forced himself to stand, even as the ceiling swung in ever widening circles around him. “This has been a lovely evening, gentlemen, but I’m afraid I have to go.”
“Are you sure? I still have another bottle-”
To Jon’s surprise, Grey Worm stood up as well-and if he was drunk, he didn’t show it. “I should go as well. Thank you, Lord Tyrion.”
Jon managed to leave the room without staggering too much-but once the door had safely closed behind them his legs almost gave out from under him and he found himself gripping Grey Worm’s shoulder until he caught his balance.
The Unsullied looked more surprised than upset. “Are you sure you’re all right, Lord Snow?”
“For the moment.” He knew he wouldn’t be in the morning, but that was still a long time away. “Good night.”
“Good night.” Grey Worm nodded to him once and walked away, his posture meticulously straight.
Jon got lost on the way to his chambers and found himself in a part of the castle he didn’t recognize at all. He didn’t realize how late it was; the corridors were deserted and all of the servants had gone home for the night, so there was no one that he could have asked for help even if he’d wanted to.
Thankfully, that also meant there was no one around to see him trying not to stagger around drunkenly and failing miserably.
Finally he reached the door to his room and opened it carefully. He was practically ready to fall into bed; his shoes were halfway off and he was undoing the first few buttons on his shirt when he closed the door behind him and realized that his bedroom had changed-and he wasn’t alone.
The room was dominated by a heavy wooden bed, covered in black and red sheets. A desk rested against one wall, and a table under the window held a miniature version of the armies map in the war room. At least, that was what he could make out in the darkness-until there was a rustling from the bed and someone lit a candle, throwing the face of the Dragon Queen into shadow. She was so confused that Jon almost found it funny. “Lord Snow?”
“Your Grace? What are you doing in my chambers?”
She didn’t look upset-just very, very confused. “These aren’t your chambers, Lord Snow. They’re on the other side of the castle.” Ever so slowly, she got to her feet. Her hair was loose and flowing around her shoulders and she wore a nightgown that seemed lighter than air; she reminded him of one of the wood spirits Old Nan had always told stories about, made of air and sunlight and impossible for mortal men to touch. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, I’m fine. Must have just gotten turned around, that’s all.” He turned towards the door-and practically tripped over her boots, which seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.
She rushed to his side and grabbed his arm, as if to keep him from falling (she was stronger than she looked). “Are you drunk?”
“…No.”
She rolled her eyes. “I can smell the wine on your breath.”
“It was only a glass or two.”
She shook her head. “Believe me, if you’d only had a glass or two you’d already be in your own bed, asleep-”
“Lord Tyrion said I should marry you.” He didn’t know why the words came out. They just did, and there was nothing he could do to stop them.
For a moment, Dany looked at him like he was out of his mind entirely. “He said what?”
“It’s a strategic match; the North still has their king, and you have all of the Seven Kingdoms.”
“All right…well, what do you think about it?”
“I don’t know.” He knew that what he was thinking at the moment was that he wanted to tear off her nightdress, but he didn’t think she’d appreciate that. “I should speak to Davos about it first.”
“That’s a good idea-and perhaps you should wait until you’re sober.” She turned to go to bed and he knew, rationally, that he should leave-he’d already made a big enough fool of himself for one night.
But the words came out anyway. “You’re very beautiful.”
She stopped in her tracks and turned back to him. Her expression was inscrutable-and he was fairly sure it wasn’t just because of the wine. “I…thank you.” She sounded uncertain, almost worried, as if it had been the last thing she was expecting him to say.
The alcohol dulled his senses and made him bold. He took a step forward before he could think better of it, before he could talk himself down from it, easily closing the distance between them. She looked at him carefully, questioningly-and he kissed her before he could think better of it, before the alcohol would wear off enough for him to realize what a very bad thing this was and how much he would regret it later.
Kissing her was everything he’d thought it would be and more, the few times he’d allowed himself to imagine it. Her mouth was soft and warm and tasted of salt air and open sea, and a distant smoky and charred scent that he could only imagine was dragonfire. Their lips moved together and he’d found they had moved closer together as well until there was no space between them at all and he brought his hand up to cup her cheek, stroking her fair skin.
When she stepped away, his head was whirling-but reality came back to him in a sudden, savage rush.
Neither of them knew what to say, and the distance that had once seemed nonexistent now seemed impassable. Her eyes were guarded, her expression unreadable.
“I’m sorry, your Grace. Good night.” He left the room with as much composure as he could muster and ran like hell as soon as the door closed behind him, as if he could somehow outrun the weight of his mistake-only to double back, open the door, and say (as if to seal his fate) “I love you.”
“That must have been some heavy wine last night, Lord Snow.”
There was a joking tone in the Queen’s voice and he couldn’t understand why. Yes, he’d been drinking the night before…but he hadn’t thought it was that obvious. He’d had a wicked hangover and had vomited twice in the early morning, but now he was feeling if not completely normal then at least halfway there. “Really? What gave it away?”
Her eyes dimmed. He’d never really seen the light leave someone’s eyes, had never really known what that expression meant…but he did now. “You don’t remember,” she said coldly, almost imperiously, “coming into my chambers at quite an ungodly hour insisting they were your own? And then kissing me?”
He went cold all over. That couldn’t be right. First of all, he would never do something like that and never put himself in such a position. And he would remember…that if he’d actually done it.
But the more he thought about it, the more he scoured his memory, the more he thought he remembered it-a room lit only by a single candle, her cheek in his hand, her lips on his, and the look in her eyes when he’d left the room, as if he’d finally managed to do something that surprised her. Seven hells. “Your Grace, I’m very sorry about any impropriety-”
“Don’t apologize.” She looked almost amused, even though he wasn’t amused in the slightest. Gods, this could ruin him. “You were quite drunk. No one else needs to know, as far as I can tell. An honest mistake. Although, it was quite enjoyable.” She walked back to break her fast with Missandei, and Jon saw the Queen’s closest advisor sneak a glance at him as if to make sure he was behaving himself. If only you knew.
Seven hells, Jon. He attacked his plate of roast sausage in silence.
He only looked up once to see Tyrion looking at him from the other side of the table. And he could have sworn he was smiling, as if he somehow knew all about what had transpired the night before.
Is Russia even real
I think it is necessary for me to transcribe what she’s saying because it is EXACTLY how I babytalk to my cat:
“Oh Stepa! So little – little Stepa! My little kiss, where’s my little kiss?? Where are my little fingers? Where are my little legs? Where are my little paws? Stepa!” *shakes his paw* “Say hello! Hello my little one! Hello!” *lies down on him* “Oh how nice, how warm. Good boy…”
to be clear, this bear is named the russian equivalent of “steve”
The potatoes have escaped
Greyhound Rescue of Atlanta posted this pic on Facebook with the caption “Athletes in retirement”
Teenage movies through the years.
5 Women With Diabetes Whose Fashion Game Is Totally On Point
Medical devices don’t have to hamper your style. Proof:
Emma at Diabeauty Style
She shares everything from outfit ideas, hairstyles, and accessories to how she carries her diabetes supplies (in the example above, in a stylish clutch), in a beautiful and visually-engaging way.
Ukikawasaki on YouTube
This insulin pump wearer shares her tips and tricks for inconspicuously wearing an insulin pump with dresses, exercise wear, and more. Her YouTube channel has instructional videos in both English and Spanish.
Monica, creator of the Camino Clutch
Frustrated by the lack of fashionable bags for diabetes supplies, Monica created her own line. These bags are designed specifically to hold everything from meters to insulin pens, and even your discarded needles - they come with their own sharps container. (Get it - “on point”?) (Okay, sorry, I’ll stop)
Designer Diabetes
According to the author: “I am a fashion designer by day and a type 1 diabetic for life. Thus combining Fashion and Diabetes. The goal…low sugars and high fashion!” We’d say she’s nailing it.
Jessica at Hanky Pancreas
Jessica makes accessories that transform “diabetes technologies into positive social objects”. More plainly, she creates scarves, wraps, and flowers that not only hide things like insulin pumps but also help you feel good about wearing them.
"You see,"she said, "your first love isn’t the first person you give your heart to - it’s the first one who breaks it."
Lang Leav (via petrified-jelly)