“Look at us, a couple of sods over something so silly as love.” Arya laughed—because what else was she supposed to do?
Jon looked away, but not before she caught his grimace. “You still don’t believe in love?”
“And you still believe in soulmates, do you?” She wanted to scream, to rage and hit him. But that would be like striking her own flesh and Arya had never been a masochist. Or maybe she was?
~new chapter live on AO3
For anyone who read The Red Hood and my other Jonrya works, I’m excited to share I’ve picked back up my ongoing timetravel fic, From the Same Star. I hope you’ll give it a chance dive back in as I work on my goal of finishing all the unfinished fics that have been collecting in my virtual drawer. To those of you who waited and messaged... thank you so much from the bottom of my heart. This one is for you <3
“Are you certain you don’t need to lie down?” Jon asked for the third time since Arya had insisted on escaping to the godswood. “We could call for the maester, if you’re still feeling unwell.”
“I’m fine , Jon,” Arya said, with what she hoped didn't betray how much she was reeling on the inside.
Worse than when she believed she was dreaming about the distant past, was the moment Arya realized she truly was in the past. Nothing else made sense, and she’d always been the logical one in her family, hadn’t she? She would like to think that her years studying this specific era and region of Westerosi history had prepared her for her current predicament. If she was like the heroine in her favorite time-hopping show, Traveler, she would have done swimmingly.
Sure, it helps if you just happen to have skills that make you useful in the late 200’s, like Blair did.
“What did you say?” Jon leaned forward from his seat beside her bed.
“Shit, I said that aloud, didn’t I?” she groaned as she crossed her legs over the fur spread and placed her head in her hands.
“Arya, do you need the bucket again?” The King in the North reached down and Arya couldn’t blame him. She had been hurling off-and-on the last hour.
Never. Drinking. Again.
“Don’t,” she rasped and managed to catch his shoulder before he could touch the damned thing. Jon froze, his eyes briefly fluttering closed. His skin felt uncommonly hot beneath her hand. Arya flinched and clutched her fur covers instead.
Jon bowed his head and seemed to be staring at his empty hands. At least, she hoped he was staring at them and not her puke bucket. His head jerked up at Arya’s snort.
“Oh, gods, what a bloody mess.” She ran her hands over her face and smirked at her cousin. Again, he was looking at her with something between surprise and awe. Arya’s smile widened. “What? Don’t you dare say I look like shit right now, Snow.”
Jon’s eyebrows rose, and he opened his mouth, only to suddenly laugh.
Her Jon’s laugh was always a rare thing she’d coveted. But to hear it from this Jon—Aegon… don’t forget who he becomes—this rasping, rarely used sound, felt like a treasure.
Arya knew she looked and smelled like the back alley of a pub right now, but she couldn’t care less, not if he was smiling at her like that. Like she’d given him an unexpected gift.
Okay so I've checked, for anyone who reads or has read my jonrya fics, and only two wips remain because I had them backed up on Google docs. But sadly so many have been lost... the continuations of Love Lost and Mr. Brightside - Gone. The season 8 fix it fic - Gone. The horror prompt fic for Lady Bee that was going to incorporate some native american mythology- Gone. An au that involved prohibition era cops & gangsters and had petyr/sansa for Meseob - Gone. Many more - GONE. My harddrive full on dying on me and taking my fics with it has really crushed my jonrya loving heart. But like Jon and Arya I'll eventually find my way back to writing. Just still gonna need some more time to heal my broken heart and also a new laptop. Yeah... that last bit is kind of important. Anyways, at least 2 stories survived.
Don't mind me, I'm just sitting here trying to wrap my mind around the latest chapter of Longing for Home by @fay29a . I didn't see that coming but OMG, it was AMAZING.
I love A Heart’s Home! I have some quiet time this weekend, and I can’t wait to reread it again! You left us in a very suspenseful place —I find myself trying to figure out what’s next. Thank you for writing such a fantastic story!
Thank you so much for reading and I’m surprised you found me on Tumblr. I’ve been slow on writing recently just like George so forgive me for not posting the latest chapter yet. Real world stuff is draining but I fully intend to write as much as I could. I’m so happy that you’ve enjoyed it. You’re very kind to reach out to me. It truly has been a labour of love for me. Can’t wait to continue the saga and see it through to the end! Have a great weekend, anon!
A short Jonrya thing in the interest of Valentine's Day
(Modern AU)
Arya bounded up to Jon; her eyes had their familiar glint of mischief. As always, she had no boundaries when it came to Jon. She leaned in close, her chest against his, her hands behind her back.
"Happy Valentine's Day, Jon. Do you want a kiss?"
Jon turned beet red. Arya smirked.
"Arya, we cant...I mean, I'd like to...But it's...we're--" He fumbled over his words and tugged at his collar.
"I meant chocolate." Arya said, revealing a small bag of Hershey's kisses that she'd had concealed behind her back.
"Right. Of course. I knew that."
Arya laughed. She took his hand, placed the bag in it, and pressed his hand closed. Then she spun on her heels and began to walk away. Jon began to rub his neck nervously. He'd really messed that up. Arya turned and walked back to him.
"Oh, Jon?"
"Yeah?"
"I forgot something." Before he could react, she swooped in and gave him a quick peck on the lips. Jon dropped the candy. Arya walked off as quickly as she came, leaving Jon to watch in awe, his mouth gaping. It really was a Happy Valentine's Day.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
For Jonrya Week 2020 Dream of Spring Day 4 Prompt: Teacher/Student (UPDATE)
And we’re officially up to 6 chapters! This is me laughing at myself for thinking I could tell this story in 5 ;) Happy reading and happy Jonrya June, friends. It’s been such a blast to see everyone’s fantastic work this week! So glad to be part of this little corner of the fandom.
She’d come directly, of course, after a quick sweep of the Keep showed no sign of Ser Jon. None of the servants Arya had befriended over the weeks knew where he was. And she’d been too afraid to go to the crypt of dragon bones.
Since when were you afraid of anything, Stark?
The door opened, and Headmaster Selmy awaited with an arched eyebrow and smile buried within his short, snow-white beard. “Initiate Stark? I could hear you pacing a trench outside my office. Won’t you come in?”
Arya straightened. “That won’t be necessary, Ser, thank you.” She swallowed her pride and added, “I was wondering if, now that Ser Jon has given up our classes to the Lord Commander? Well, I respect him quite a lot, Ser, and I’d wondered if he was coming to watch us in the tourney?”
She held her breath. Nothing to do but hope this gamble would pay off in a way that wouldn’t arouse any suspicion.
Headmaster Selmy’s gaze held hers for some time and then softened. “Has anyone ever told you how much you look like your Aunt Lyanna?”
Arya clenched her hands tightly behind her back. “No, Ser.”
The headmaster leaned against his open doorway and his gaze seemed to settle far past her. “She wanted to be a knight, too, as I recall...it’s how she first met Prince Rhaegar.”
“Ser?” Arya cut in. She didn’t want to hear about the couple who had put their selfish needs above everyone else, including their son.
Selmy inclined his head to her. “I guarded the prince for most of his life. Rhaegar would have done anything for Lyanna, you see…”
Arya frowned, uncertain how this had anything to do with her question.
Selmy’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he backed into his office, and held his hand to the door. “I cannot make promises for their son, but I do believe Ser Jon is more like his father than he realizes. Good day, Initiate Stark.”
