Iain Glen and Tony Robinson in the world premiere of The Three Ships, Sir Tony Robinson and Professor Paul Mealor's brand new take on the Christmas story...
Warning: Extremely cheesy! Like so much cheese you could top 25 bowls of nachos and still have leftovers!!!
Summary: Jon Snow and the Reader go on a quest to find more dragon glass for the coming war up north.
Word count: 3500
With the impending threat of the White Walkers and Wights, you and Jon were desperate for any means to aid you in the coming war. You had collected the dragon glass from Dragonstone, and Daenerys had armed her Doth Wraki with it while Jon had given his share to the wildlings and northerners. Supposedly your sister Cersei was sending the Lannister army to fight as well, but you told Jon that you weren’t sure that you could trust her.
Allying with Cersei made you nervous. Tyrion said he thought Cersei would send the help you needed, but you still had very little faith. After everything she had done, especially to Tyrion, you didn’t know if you could ever trust her again.
It had been a long journey, a difficult and tragic one, but eventually you had found yourself at Castle Black after your father’s death and with Jon Snow. You vaguely knew him, having met him back when you and your siblings traveled with the king to Winterfell after Jon Arryn’s death. You never expected to see Jon again, having been more interested in his half-brother, Robb, but you’d learned that life had a way of being unexpected. Robb was gone, and you had fled your home, finding solace at Castle Black, with Jon.
During the last two years, though, you had learned so much, about the North, about Jon Snow, and about yourself. You refused to admit it to yourself, thanks to the vows Jon took as a brother of the Night’s Watch, but deep down you knew, you knew within weeks of your arrival.
You were in love with Jon Snow.
But now that Jon was king of the North, now that the threat of the White Walkers loomed overhead, romance was the least of anyone’s concerns. The only political alliances you were interested in were the ones involving the fight. The Great War was upon you.
For a time Jon had been frantic, as none of the other lords knew just how serious the threat was, but now they all knew. Daenerys, who was so powerful in her own right, was uncharacteristically nervous, after seeing how easily the Night King had slain her precious dragon. You wished you could do more to help, but the truth was you hadn’t used a sword for very long, considering your father never let you pursue it.
Then one day while talking to Tormund, he mentioned something that may have made the difference.
“We need more dragon glass,” Jon had said in a private meeting. “If anyone knows anything, anything, you have to tell us! Even the rumor of dragon glass could make the difference!”
Everyone looked around, not able to conjure anything to memory, but then Tormund spoke up from the back.
“I don’t know about dragon glass specifically, but legend has it there’s a powerful Freefolk priest that lives north, very, very north. As north as you can go,” he said. “We heard about him as children. We heard that if you listened to your parents and if you worked hard and protected your family, then he’d come and give you whatever you wanted.” His eyes scanned us. “If we could find him and convince him that we were worthy, he could gift us with dragon glass.”
His story was scoffed at, but Jon then said we couldn’t afford to pretend such things didn’t exist. We needed all the help we could get.
“I will travel north to find this priest,” Jon said. Then he looked directly at you. “And you will come with me, Lady Y/N.”
You blinked, unsure why he had requested your presence. Wouldn’t Davos or Tormund be better? Wouldn’t it be faster if Drogon just flew Daenerys over to negotiate with this wilding septon? But for whatever reason, Jon had insisted you come with him.
So the next morning you found yourself bundled up in northern furs, and you and Jon headed north on horseback, silently praying that you’d find what you were looking for.
“So, what do you think of Daenerys?” You nervously asked as you traveled.
You felt shallow, but you had noticed her eyes latch onto Jon more than once. It was no secret that she was beautiful. You had been told you were beautiful too, but even you didn’t have those exquisite Valyrian features. Why would you stand out to Jon when the Mother of Dragons was there before him? She was a queen, and you were part of the very family that ruined Jon’s life and murdered his family, and now you were nothing but an outcast.
Jon looked over at you with an expression of puzzlement. “Ah, well, she’s quite powerful.”
“She’s a Targaryen,” you said awkwardly. “Of course she’s beautiful. Do you think men throw themselves at her feet everywhere she goes?”
You wanted to hit him when he actually smiled at you, even though you normally felt like mush when he did so.
“Where’s this coming from?” He asked. “I admit, I don’t have a lot of experience with women, being at the Wall, but is this what they call jealousy?”
“Not at all,” you denied him. “I just wanted to know what you thought of her… for political reasons, of course. She hopes to become queen of the Seven Kingdoms, and you’re King of the North!”
“Ah, well, if I bend the knee, I highly doubt the Northerners would take to me marrying a southern ruler,” he said. “I have no interest in moving down south anyways, or in marrying a southerner.”
You liked where that was going in the beginning, but then you frowned. No matter how many times you wanted to deny what house you belonged to, the truth was, you were a Lannister and would always be a Lannister.
“No southerners, then?” You asked him, trying to mask the disappointment.
“Well...maybe not all southerners,” he said. “I just can’t see myself with the mother of dragons. I barely know her.” Then he snickered. “And I doubt those dragons of hers are ready to welcome a man into their lives!”
You studied your horse’s mane, but secretly, your heart was bouncing around in your chest.
The two of you continued north, the tension completely gone, and you were feeling lighter than you had since the Dragon Queen came. The cold was horribly bitter, but you refused to let Jon think you couldn’t handle it. You were still confused why he had brought you with him, but you didn’t ask him. You were too embarrassed.
Then one day you saw what appeared to be two wights in the distance. You shivered, but Jon drew Longclaw and promised you that you would be safe. He hopped off the horse and went to be rid of the two rogue undead.
You slid off your horse and sighed in relief as he struck then down. He used some flint and steel to start a fire and torched the remains.
“Ready to keep going?” Jon asked.
He headed back to the horses with you behind him. Your horse was nearer, so you climbed up, but he never reached his.
Appearing along the horizon, dotting the landscape, an absolute horde of wights had appeared, each holding swords and spears, all rotting faces positioned so that you two were in their sights. You took a step back, hand flying toward the tiny sword at your hip. You knew you’d never win, but you’d go down with a fight at least. It was a joke you even brought the thing. As for Jon, Longclaw was held at the ready.
“Y/N, I want you to stay back,” he said in a dead tone. “You need to reach this priest.”
“You’re mad,” you said angrily.
“I have to protect you,” he countered.
As you bickered, the wights surrounded you and Jon. There were too many of them. You’d never make it out of there alive, and since there was no one to burn your bodies, the Night King would have two new recruits. You gritted your teeth.
Jon lunged himself at the corpses, sword raised, slicing down two. Then two from behind jumped at him. Your horse reared on its hind legs and struck down the two as Jon narrowly got away. But more were upon him once again, and Jon was twirling, kicking, and hacking in order to free himself. He let out a strangled cry.
“Go!” He urged you.
The wights piled up around Jon’s horse and slayed the poor beast.
“Jon, get on!” You cried to him from atop yours.
He lunged for you, but all of a sudden you fell from your horse’s back and into the snow, sinking deeply. In horror you watched the wights as they tore apart your steed as well. Now the two of you were stranded as well as surrounded.
Jon shielded you with his body, cutting down at least four wights who got close. Then one grabbed you from behind. Screaming, you smacked your head backwards and got it to release you. Your hands trembled as you killed the creature, but there was no time to be proud of your victory. Suddenly Jon’s arms were wrapping around you, his prickly face scratching your cheek.
“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he mumbled to you. You felt your tears freeze to your face. “I’m sorry…!”
You closed your eyes. At least you’d go with the man you loved.
***
The first thing you noticed was warmth.
When you opened your eyes you found yourself lying in a large bed with down covers and soft sheets. Your northern garb had been replaced with the softest night gown you had ever worn. It smelled sweet, like the cookies Tyrion used to sneak for you when you were only a little girl. On one side of the room was a blazing fire place, and dotting the mantle were stockings nailed there. The window was shut, but you could make out the blistering winter storm.
Where were you? And how had you arrived?
Suddenly you sat up, your jaw dropping open. From the window you saw something out in the snow. It came right up to your window and looked inside. You weren’t normally one for profanities, but one slipped from your mouth.
There was a deer looking inside, but it was bigger than the deer you’d seen, as well as...furrier. Crowning his head were two very large antlers covered in a velvet fur. You’d never thought much of the Baratheon stag, but seeing this creature up at the window caused you to reconsider.
The strangest man you had ever seen entered the room. At first he didn’t look at you, instead going over to the mantle to fix the hanging stockings. You held your breath, nervousness sweeping over you. The man had a long white beard, the shade of the snow outside, and he wore the brightest red fur coat, brighter than the crimson dyes even you grew up wearing. Cinched around his plump waistline was a black leather belt. Atop his head sat a matching stocking cap made from the same red velvet, tipped with a white tuft.
The man went over to the window and his belly bounced with laughter at the sight of the stag. Was he accustomed to it?
“Donner! I already said no more carrots!” He said jovially. He had a deep voice full of cheer. “You keep eating and you won’t be able to pull the sled!”
The stag whined loudly. Then it turned away dejectedly. The bearded man shook his head, chuckling to himself. Then he turned from the window, and for the first time, you two were staring at each other face to face.
Was this the Wildling Tormund had spoken of? Or was he a bandit, hoping to ransom you and possibly Jon? Even though he was a stranger, you knew at once he was no bandit. His coat was lined in white fur, and facing the front you could see his belt barely wrapped around his portly belly. His cheeks were pink and the tip of his nose was like a cherry. His feet were covered by giant black boots.
“Looks like you’re awake!” He said happily. “The missus will be pleased!”
You swallowed. “W-where’s Jon?”
“Woke up a day ago!” He said, knowing who you were talking about. “He’s been helping the missus with the baking! Those Stark boys always had sweet tooths!” He chortled merrily like he was remembering something.
It was difficult to imagine Jon Snow, the newly appointed King in the North baking.
“Where are my manners?” He suddenly asked. His tone sounded as if he’d burst out laughing at any time. “Let me get some hot cocoa for you!”
You had no idea what hot cocoa was, but the jolly fellow disappeared for a few seconds and then returned with a steaming glass of something. He pushed it into your hands. You wouldn’t take it, though. After all, Joffrey had lost his life to poison.
“What is it?” You asked.
“Hot cocoa,” he said again. “Sweet creamy chocolate...with a hint of mint. It’s the missus’s recipe!” He winked at you.
“I’ve never heard of such a drink,” you admitted.
He chortled. “That’s because there’s no need for a hot drink in the South!”
You frowned and mumbled: “How did you know I was from the South?”
“Ho ho ho!” The stranger boomed with laughter. “Of course I know you’re from the South! I know where everyone lives! Y/N Lannister...daughter of Casterly Rock...then you moved to King’s Landing! You ended up at Castle Black after your brother, Tyrion, was accused of a crime he didn’t commit! Now you’re friends with Jon Snow, King in the North, and you’re preparing for the threat of the white walkers!” His expression sombered. “And they are a frightening lot too. I know why you are here.”
You were stunned. He did say that Jon was here...maybe he told him all about you?
“You came in search of someone you had only heard rumors about,” he went on, eyes twinkling knowingly.
Your head began spinning uncontrollably. You swallowed away feelings of fear and astonishment. “I’m looking for a Wildling septon or priest,” you said. “I don’t know who he is, but Tormund the Wildling told us about him. He said he lived very far north and that he could help us maybe get some dragon glass. Are the rumors true?”
His belly bounced like pudding when he laughed. His blue eyes twinkled beneath thick brows as he leaned in closer.
“The pleasure is mine, Lady Y/N,” he said with another wink. “The name’s Santa, but you can call me Saint Nick!”
You gaped. He had to have been the priest Tormund told you about. Somehow he was actually real.
“You’re...real?” You said foolishly. Of course he was! He was right in front of you!
“As real as can be,” he answered. “Welcome to the North Pole!” He gestured around the small cottage you were in, but out the windows you could finally make out a series of sweet cottages that seemed to be made from gingerbread, if such a thing were possible. “Drink, dear. Your cocoa will get cold.”
In astonishment, you automatically took a drink of the cocoa, wincing at the heat, but once you were used to it, you found you rather enjoyed it.
“It was delicious,” you murmured. “Thank you…”
“As I said, don’t be thanking me, thank the missus!” Santa proceeded to smack his great gut.
“High Septon Santa,” you began feeling weird about the way you addressed him. “How did you know we were coming here for your help?”
“I know everything,” he said. “I keep watch on you year round! You were a curious creature! The Starks were generally good, but I believe you were the only one at Casterly Rock worthy of receiving any presents! Cersei and Jaime certainly weren’t! And Tyrion…” he shook his head, laughing a bit. “...Had his heart in the right place, bless him, but he just couldn’t leave the whores alone!”
“What are you even talking about?” You asked.
“The naughty and nice list!” Santa said, eyes glowing. “You made the nice list, despite being raised in a home where the naughty list was more common. I don’t think I’d given Lord Tywin a gift in years! Sharp man, brilliant strategist, but unfortunately never quite made the nice list!”
“What does this have to do with anything?” You asked, your voice rising. You felt silly because you had no idea what was going on.
“I deliver presents to those on the nice list!” He said. “Didn’t you ever wonder where those presents came from at the end of each year?”
You blinked, recalling how somehow at the end of each year you’d always find new, exquisite dresses in your closet, and beautiful threads and fabric for your embroidery. You never questioned where they come from, being delighted at the sight of them.
“That’s called Christmas,” he said. “Christmas is the time of year when we all reach out and show our love for one another. We remember all the blessings we have and do special things for those that make life worth living.” He pointed at himself. “My job is to reward those who have shown kindness and have helped others. That’s where the naughty and nice list comes in.”
“I’ve never heard of Christmas,” you said. “It sounds lovely, though.”
“Well now you know about Christmas, and you can make it a priority to spread goodwill and cheer!” Santa said. “And lucky for you, Christmas is just around the corner!”
You weren’t sure what to make of this news or even if you believed that such a lovely time could exist, but you were too stunned to say anything else. Maybe there was some truth to it. After all, the fact that this old man somehow found you after the wights attacked was a miracle in itself.
Then the door opened and your face broke into the widest smile since waking up. Jon walked in, dressed in a maroon fur coat similar to Santa’s, though without as much white fur. At the sight of you, he also grinned.
“Finally, you’re awake,” he said with a sigh of relief. “Did she drink the chocolate?”
“Drank it right up,” said Santa, beaming. He ushered Jon inside. It was clear that Jon had taken well to the North Pole. “And now that you’re here, I’d say it was high time we discussed what Westeros is getting for Christmas this year!”
Jon’s face fell. “I fear that most of Westeros has found itself on the naughty list unfortunately.”
“Perhaps, but Christmas is also a time of second chances and taking the higher road. Lord Ebenezer Scrooge can testify of that,” Santa responded. You and Jon had never heard of a Lord Scrooge before. “And if I reward those on the nice list, more people will have cause to be nice. It will show that for once, this world is ran by the good.” He winked just then. “Besides, I can’t afford to give out that much coal!”
“Please, if you could supply Westeros with dragon glass, we would forever be in your debt,” Jon said quickly.
Santa smiled. “I think I can arrange that.”
You felt like melting all of a sudden. You were safe, Jon was safe, and Westeros would have what it needed to survive the fight. All of a sudden you found yourself grinning with the old man and with Jon.
“Come along, you two,” Santa said, clapping his hands together. “We’ll take the sleigh. These reindeer of mine have been itching all year for a flight!”
“Wait, what?” You sputtered disbelievingly.
Santa paused, and you thought he would answer your question. His thick eyebrows even rose up so they were hiding beneath his hat.
“Now, wait just a minute,” Santa said thoughtfully. “I haven’t asked what you two wanted for Christmas!”
You and Jon exchanged confused looks with one another. Jon began to say: “The dragon glass is enough for Westeros…”
“I don’t mean Westeros,” Santa said. “I know what they’re getting. As for you two, though, what would you like?” He stared directly at Jon. “What do you want for Christmas, Jon Snow?”
You wondered what Jon would say. What would the King in the North possibly want for Christmas?
“Christmas? Well I believe I’ve already got what I want for Christmas, Santa, so there’s no need to worry about me,” he said thoughtfully.
“Wait,” you interrupted him. Was he crazy? He could have anything he wanted, even the Iron Throne! “What do you want for Christmas, Jon?”
His brown eyes lit up with his smile. Santa looked away, like he knew something, but you could have sworn you saw a tiny smirk on his plump face.
“Y/N,” Jon began and grasped your hand. “All I want for Christmas is you.”
THANK YOU SO MUCH for all your support during 2017. I really appreciate your love and friendship. I hope 2018 will bring all of you bright and happy new adventures. Also, I hope to bring and share more beautiful posts of our lovely Iain Glen and his projects in the new year.
With all my love -- Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!
