Jonerys Advent Calendar 2020 || Day 20
Since We Have No Place to Go, Let It Snow
Jon Snow decided to come back home for Christmas after three years of finding excuses, three years of trying not to hear his mother’s pleas. Back at Winterfell he found more than he was hoping for, more than family; he found the stranger he met in Dragonstone and tried to forget, with her molten hair, her blazing fire and her summer scent, like sunshine and citrus, like sunscreen and lavender.
Christmas never tasted so sweet and yet felt so short.
Chapter 1 : All Hearts Come Home for Christmas
He struggled with his bag, trying to open the door of his room. It smelled like burning wood and his eyes immediately went to the hearth, ember still burning away, glowing, casting red and orange light in the room. He was surprised his dad would still light a fire in this room, knowing that he wasn’t coming back for Christmas.
The fire was almost out at this hour of the night, there was the smallest amount of golden light in the room, just enough for him to put his bag on the dresser and see that his bed was already unmade on his side, the sheet rumpled, stuck under the heavy headboard. He didn’t even have the time to form a question, to think of something before he felt a sharp pain at the back of his head, like an explosion, like something just fell on his head, like someone just hit him with a rock.
“What the fuck?” he exclaimed, his vision getting blurry and full of dark spots. He immediately brought his hand to the back of his head, not sure if he actually felt blood or if it was just the nastiness of his hair sticking on his fingers. With his other hand he tried to find his balance against the wall, searching for the light switch, trying to understand what the fuck was going on.
Someone hit him again on the shoulder. Hard. He grunted and turned around too fast, the dizziness assaulting all his senses, making him feel like Bambi stepping on ice. With all his training, he should have known someone was in the room, he should have added up all the clues, the fire and the bed. He felt fucking ridiculous.
“Oh my Gods, Commander!?” someone exclaimed in front of him, dropping something on the floor. He felt like he was submerged in water, like he was in a fishbowl and someone was screaming at him but all he could hear was half the words. Even underwater, even in a fishbowl and with a throbbing head, he was certain he could pick this particular voice out of a thousand sounds, in the most crowded space and in the most deafening silence. He could recognize the Essosi timbre of her voice around the end of her sentence, around the edge of her words.
He tried to find her in the low light, to find her around the black dots intruding his vision, big enough to make everything seem black. He was probably imagining her, torturing himself with her, with the regrets and all the missed opportunities, with all the reasons he had to brood over her.
His legs buckled under him and he sat on the floor -crashed- on the floor with all the finesse he could master.
As always, thank you to my better half, Hayl @targsdaenerys for the beta work and the way you accept to share your talent with words with me and my French ass ! I love you to the moon and back! You are magic!
Thank you to Erika @youwerenevermine for the constant encouragement when I though I could never finish this with one arm! ... I was kind of right, but you were always there! Thank you for the ideas and opinion! you’re amazing!
