Synopsis: Tensions between the fae and humans are coming to a head. And when coyote shapeshifter Mercy and her Alpha werewolf mate, Adam, are called upon to stop a rampaging troll, they find themselves with something that could be used to make the fae back down and forestall out-and-out war: a human child stolen long ago by the fae.
Defying the most powerful werewolf in the country, the humans, and the fae, Mercy, Adam, and their pack choose to protect the boy no matter what the cost. But who will protect them from a boy who is fire touched?
Joel had stretched out, big and scary-looking, across the floor, until the only way to the kitchen table was over him. I opened my mouth to ask him to move, but Izzy’s mom stepped over him as if he’s been a Lab or golden retriever.
Joel looked at me, a little affronted at her disregard of his scariness.
So, here is the first part of my gift for @wightxmas for the @jonsasecretsanta2018. I very much hope, you like it. This fic spiralled a bit out of control, tbh. I had planned for three chapters, but somehow now I have ten (and a wrap up). So up until Christmas there will be at least a chapter a day...
The setting is a bit canon bent. Jaime was wounded when he attacked Drogon, and Tyrion rescued him from the Battlefield and took him along and hid him. Please don’t pester me on the details of that. The story starts in Winterfell. It’s a Jonsa and Braime fic. Also on AO3.
And here it begins:
When he greeted Tyrion from the shadows at the window when his brother entered the room his voice sounded still raspy and did not sound like himself at all. Jaime stood, but had taken care that he was so far inside the room, that he would not be seen. The last days had given him plenty of opportunity to look at the castle yard. Tyrion’s guest chamber, where Jaime stayed in hiding, was the same it had been so many years ago on their first sojourn in Winterfell. But it did not look the same. Lady Sansa had taken great care in the rebuilding of Winterfell, but being twice taken by enemies had reduced the castle’s furniture somewhat. The chair did not match the table and the bed.
“What are you going to do, brother dear? What further tortures do you have in tow for me? As if putting me in the bilge of a ship was not enough, you brought me to Winterfell of all places.”
Tyrion rounded on his brother.
“What was I supposed to do?”
“Leave me somewhere in the care of a maester? Put me out of my misery?” Jaime had wanted to die on that field. Dying while fighting a dragon. That would have been worth a song.
“As if any maester wouldn’t know who you are.” Tyrion sounded vexed. “I just need to find someone who can be trusted.”
“Someone who would not tell the queen you chose for yourself that you harbour the man who tried to kill her, her and her dragon.”
Jaime shook his head. “Honestly, Tyrion, what made you band up with her?”
Tyrion let himself fall on the chair.
“You shouldn’t even be out of bed, brother, let alone should you speak or pester me about my choices. Queen Daenerys made me her hand and promised me Casterly Rock. And it was mostly me who persuaded her and Jon Snow to become allies.”
Jaime went to the bed and turned the burnt half of his face from Tyrion’s view. He didn’t hobble any longer, but everything was tiring. He was in pain, but that was not why he snorted.
“An uneasy alliance, if I ever saw one,” he remarked. “From what I could see in the yard, tensions are high.”
“We could have gotten a warmer welcome here in Winterfell”, Tyrion admitted.
“And I only saw two dragons, isn’t Daenerys supposed to have three?”
Tyrion’s mood soured. “Why don’t you just go back to bed and stop asking questions?” There is a problem there.
Jaime lowered himself to the bed.
“Since you won’t just put me out of my misery, I want to gain some of my strength back.” The short walk from the window had caused his breathing to quicken, but this was getting better every day. Jaime’s face tightened, when he winced.
“What are your plans, Tyrion?”
“I told you, we need to survive these ice monsters. I hope that I’ll be useful despite my lack of battle prowess and that if all this is over, we can put pieces back together. I told you all. Jon Snow bent the knee, the North is in the fold of the seven kingdoms again, and we will all fight against the threat from the North.”
“You should know our sister better than that. I don’t believe Cersei will send a single soldier.” Cersei. Half of me wants to get the next ship to join her again and half of me wants to never see her again. He remembered the ruins of the sept. He remembered his feeling of loneliness, that he would never understand his sister, his lover. The feeling that had made him attack the dragon.
“She promised.” Tyrion said curtly.
“But there is no debt.” Jaime mused.
“What?”
“There is no debt. A Lannister pays his debts, but Cersei owes Daenerys nothing. You might as well admit that you have doubts.”
Tyrion’s temper flared. “Yes, I admit it. I have doubts. Are you satisfied now?”
Jaime just looked at him, his eyes boring into his.
“I fear that Cersei not sending soldiers might not be the only problem we have.”
Jaime remained silent, but he did not break eye-contact with his brother.
“Something is off. Queen Daenerys has taken Jon Snow to her bed, but since we arrived in Winterfell, he has shunned her bed. She is getting impatient and he makes excuses…. Like ‘The Lords must not know about us, they are suspicious anyway.’ Or ‘There is not time for this. We need to rally our troops. There are no news from the wall.’ You could almost think that Daenerys was an ugly old mare the way he keeps avoiding her. I trusted him to influence her and nudge her towards the right decisions, but if he keeps going on like that, he’ll lose any influence he ever had. She is getting very impatient.”
“And?”
Tyrion frowned at his brother. Jaime shrugged.
“I do know you.”
“The Dothraki are not equipped for this weather. The dragons need food, we all need food and in this we are totally dependent on Lady Sansa. Lady Sansa is courteous enough to Queen Daenerys, but a glacier is warm in comparison.”
“And?”
“So the Northern Lords are grumbling, Jon Snow, our Warden of the North buries himself in work, the Dothraki are bound to kill somebody these days, Lady Lyanna Mormont has yet to exchange words with her uncle Jorah, Queen Daenerys is treated this short of insolence.”, Tyrion raised his fingers to indicate a very small space between his thumb and his index finger. “… while everybody defers to Lady Sansa – which does not improve the Queen’s mood.”
“Sounds like you have much to juggle.”
Tyrion shot his brother an angry look.
“And yet this is not all.” He looked around, as if someone could hear him. “Happenstance or maybe ill luck, I don’t know what, has brought one person to Winterfell who might prove far more dangerous, than his amiable nature suggests.”
“Who?”
“Samwell Tarly.” Tyrion whispered. “Queen Daenerys killed his father and brother after the battle of the Goldroad. You know the battle where you got injured. I could not prevent her killing the Tarlys. But Samwell doesn’t know yet, but he is bound to learn about it any time. And he is a fast friend of Jon Snow.”
“Well, I see. What is your plan?”
“Hoping that the bad weather will hinder the ravens to fly, hoping that nobody from our party sings this little story to Samwell. Hoping that our enemies attack and bind us together before it all blows up in my face.”
“A really sound plan” Jaime snorted.
Tyrion closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. “I hope that I will come up with something, if I could just think in peace…. I swear if I have to sit in another council meeting with Bran and Arya Stark, I’ll go mad.”
“So, they are a problem as well?”
“Bran is simply unnerving. Half of the time he doesn’t seem to listen at all and goes into some kind of trance, and half of the time he seems to know things, he should not know. He throws in guest, and guest right just often enough in my hearing to be unnerving. And Arya…. “ he paused.
“She is such a small girl, but she always fiddles with this Valyrian dagger, and it actually looks like she could handle the thing. She was the one who killed Littlefinger.”
“A good deed.” Jaime said.
“I’m not sad, he is gone.” Tyrion admitted, “but that dagger is driving me insane.”
Jaime lowered himself to lie on the bed and closed his eyes.
“If all blows up in your face, I won’t be much of a help, you know. You might as well have let me lie there and let some Dothraki cut my throat.”
“I’m not going to let you die. And if I have to hide you for the rest of your days. At least you’re healthy enough to argue with me.”
But I don’t have big guns,” she said. Then she dropped her head in her hands. “I can’t believe I just said that. I can’t believe I said that to someone I’ve just met.
