Asoiaf Fanfic - Tumblr Posts
Her knee.
Heat flooded his face. He could feel his breath catch and his eye budge and every inch of him freeze, but Arya seemed unfazed. She’d told him to be still, after all. Why should she be surprised he obeyed?
Cold metal scraped against his skin slowly, dragging, dangerous. The edge of the knife followed the length of his neck until it reached his jaw, then Arya removed the blade and reached behind him for the basin. Gendry tried to breathe, only to be engulfed in the scent of her. He shivered.
“Be still, I’ll nick you like that,” she said, impatient, unconcerned with his agony. The blade was back on his throat again and he thought best not to move.
Her knee was firmly placed between his thighs.
Her knee was between his thighs, her fingers were curled into his hair, her face was inches from his, her hard grey eyes were fixed around his mouth. Gendry had to close his own eyes. He could feel cold sweat trickling down his back. When she reached for the basin a second time her whole body grazed his chest, but before he could react she was back to shaving him, Arya was quick like that.
What a stupid idea, to allow her to shave him. The stupidest idea.
The guard tried not to remember the last time they’d been so close, but that only made his cock press tighter against the lacing of his breeches. Could the lady really have no clue what she was stirring?
...
to be continued! tiny little snippet from Gendry's POV inspired by @anniephl's comment.
May I request some Gendrya from your canon divergence AU? You know, the one in which Ned gets to flee King's Landing with his daughters and Gendry.
Gendry must prepare to take office as one of Winterfell's guards for the first time. He has to shave but Arya insists on helping because she thinks it will be super fun… Gendry discovers new things about himself.
Other parts of this au: 1, 2, 3, 4
Jonerys shippers you're beautiful! I couldn't stay away for long. Now I'm back with a new name: @buttertheflame like my ao3 account butteredflame.
These fics might be familiar to you:
Faith
Five Times Jon Snow Smiled and the One Time He Didn't
The Tower
Wow! This is so good. Because it was in character, it started off fun and then it ended sad. Bonus points for including Edric Dayne’s predicament. Sweet boy is easy to forget about.
I don’t know what’s worse...that Bran knows about Jon’s feelings for Arya (yikes!), or that Sansa and Jon’s argument over Arya’s prospects got so heated that Bran and Rickon didn’t even get to talk about theirs.
Siblings...and cousins...amirite?
I enjoy fics where Daenerys and Jon foremost relate to each other as aunt and nephew, and she’s like, “alright he’s my nephew—I have to help him” and everyone’s like “no, she’s going to use him!” but she doesn’t, so Jon reluctantly resigns to this strange new familial relationship.
In this fic, I want to know what Daenerys would think about this. Especially because Jon has got this temperamental possessiveness that I think she’d have remembered in Viserys.
Jonrya AU: Other Engagements
Summary: The remaining Starks gather some time after the Long Night is won to discuss possible plans for marriages and alliances. With Jon crowned King of the Wall, ruling under Daenerys, High Queen of Westeros, discussion of who will reign by his side as queen over the north is paramount. But Jon is not the only wolf for whom a match must be made.
“Proposals,“ Rickon groaned and tossed back his head, auburn curls glinting. "My spear is still crusted with blood, and we’re already talking of politics?”
“And how long a grace period were you expecting?” Arya snorted, shaking her head. Her dismissive words were born partially of relief.
She had been speaking with the washer women when Jon found her and pulled her away. He had lead her to a small, stony room, recently rebuilt, containing only two windows, a small side table of wood, and her siblings gathered around in a semi-circle as if for a ritual.
Her hackles had risen in an instant, but Bran had quickly laid her greatest fears to rest. There was no new tragedy to break their hearts, no new disaster to ravage their land; only the tedious intricacies of a civil society.
“A longer one,” the boy groused. Arya imagined that in his mind, there was likely no tragedy more agonizing than such tedious complexities.
“Oh? Are you inconvenienced?” She tilted her head at him. “Shall we postpone rebuilding the kingdom until the armory’s polished nice and new?”
“Can we?” He asked. For a moment it was difficult for her to tell whether he was serious. Maybe the boy didn’t know himself. She cuffed him lightly over the head with a scoff just to be safe, and the grin that broke on his lips was wild.
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Jonerys Falling for You 2023 - Masterpost
Thank you so much to everyone who participated, whether by sharing your talents or by supporting writers and artists! This was a blast and we feel lucky to be involved in such a creative and supportive community ❤️
If you haven’t had a chance please be sure to check out the wonderful works and show your appreciation with kudos, comments, and reblogs! The full list of submissions are below the cut!
Our next event is planned for February, and we will be posting prompts soon.
Day 1 | Comfort | Warmth | Wearing His Hoodie or Cloak
Burn and Consume: Red as Autumn by @arielchelby
All my life I felt alone, except with you by @rhaegarblackfire
Falling for You: Wrap me in your arms by @filhadoboto
Falling for You: The three heads of the dragon by @filhadoboto
this love is like fire and ice (still falling for you) by fae_changeling1492
Wondering by @moon-ruled-rising
Day 2 | Fall Colors | Harvest Festival | Back-to-School/College AU
Weirwood in Autumn by @tatticstudio55
Maroon by @moondancer71
Falling for You: Harvesting Love by @filhadoboto
Seasons of Change: The Next Fall by @littledancer9
Secret (Storeroom) Shenanigans by @jellybeanficwriter
Day 3 | Witching Hour | Monsters/Demons | Haunted
Inner Demons by @arielchelby
Falling for You: Have We Met Before? by @filhadoboto
Watch the world burn; i set it all alight for you by @thebeastunderyourbed
Monsters by @rhaegarblackfire
Day 4 | Coffee Shop AU | Second Chance Romance | Road Trip/Exploring Nature AU
Falling for You: I can't fool my heart by @filhadoboto
Wild Hearts Unveiled by @evax3
Prey by @rhaegarblackfire
like freedom, like rosemary and thyme by @girlwithakiwi
Day 5 | Halloween Party | Trick or Treat | Free Choice
This is Halloween by @moondancer71
Hocus Pocus by @arielchelby
The Secret Histories by @mysnowdragons
Falling for You: The warg in my path by @filhadoboto
Open Call for Feedback 🔎
Hi Jonerys lovers, I’m a fic writer who’s been on hiatus for a few years and I’m back. Check out the prose. Does it drone on? I’m in the editing phase…
A Normal Family
4k words, Jon x Dany, Dany POV, post-ADWD, TWOW-speculation
(excerpt from chapter 1 of a 5-part au fic, sequel to A Long Way Home)
Castle Black
Present: 302 AC
Winter
She knew it was a dream when she felt the heat, for in Volantis, the air was hot and dewey—the evening almost as sweltering as the day. At first, Daenerys thought she was breathing fire—it was such a beautiful thing—as the oily Black Walls of eastern Volantis’s old blood gained a vermilion glow in the night. Within, a labyrinth of palaces, cloisters and temples burst into flame. Then out of the ashes came waves of slaves of every designation, crying, The Princess Who Was Promised! There were dozens. The dark eye has begun to lift from her! There were hundreds. The minions of the night will lose their temples of deceit! Then there were thousands. She will bring an endless Summer, and those who die fighting her cause shall be reborn! And tens of thousands. She is Azor Ahai reborn! Wait! Wait for the return of the blazing comet! Lord of Light, herald her coming!
“Yes!” she cried in ecstasy, carried by their fervor. “Yes!”
Daenerys could not even search for her sense of shame, for her Lord would not allow it. Not even when the great river westward then rushed to meet her, and took her through valleys at the feet of countless mountains. Far ahead, the Rhoyne broke into three different tributaries, causing the air to cool with them. Below, a field of poppies dotted the earth. It is the Trident, she realized, and settled herself further in the saddle upon Drogon’s back. She remembered. Her foes would appear, armored in ice, and she would burn them all.
Instead, a lone rider came upon a hill. The red helm of a two-headed dragon took shape, dotted with four rubies for eyes. The black visor was lifted. Daenerys did not wish to see her beautiful brother die again, so she opened her mouth to warn him, but she would not be heeded. Rhaegar turned to face the antlered yellow and black rider who had trailed behind him, thus revealing an infant in his free arm. She startled as the babe, held tight to his black gleaming breastplate, gazed at him in wonder. His buoyant laughter mingled with Rhaegar’s soothing voice. The father’s lips pressed to the soft infant crown, from which sad and sweet notes rose.
“He fixed himself wholly
And laid in the earth.
Then fashioned his crown
From a field of dirks.”
Daenerys mustered up a sob so strong it caused her to wake.
After a choked beat, she found Jon Snow next to her, his back also flat to the feather bed of their private room, his face turned to train dark eyes upon her, in the gloom of the very late night or very early morning. She had not wanted to look too closely at the red priests of Essos who had called her this promised prince. It was a legacy she did not want. When his fine hands reached her face, Daenerys’s mind grew desperate. I must pursue the Iron Throne. Jon wiped away her fresh tears then drew her into his arms.
“I’m here,” he whispered. “I’m here.”
She nodded against his chest, but failed to shake the tension from her belly and limbs. Her heart quivered with guilt for keeping this from Jon, and fear, over what he had revealed to her last night. I could have become one of them, he had told her, a week ago back in Winterfell. As she wondered why hadn’t he become one of those vicious wights when his body had lain cold for two days, the guilt that followed and her grief for Viserion stayed her tongue. Then he’d promised to give her the realm and afterward settle them on Dragonstone, once the wars were won. She couldn’t help but hold onto his promise.
A family and the realm. Surely, they could have both? But given the fresh news, she wondered…could hers and Jon’s children be safe with him? Could their line be safe with him? Could she and her royal consort truly achieve this goal? A family and the realm.
She thought of the cautious, wise and bold Ser Barristan Selmy, the Commander of her Queensguard who had lost his life half a world away fighting the reignited war against the Essosi slave cities. No more than a hundred days prior, it had been in a moment of relative peace, while the killings and slayings of her people were still going on: as she considered marrying the snake zo Loraq to broker peace, Ser Barristan had cautioned against marrying for political gain only, but to also consider love. He said that her grandsire Jaeherys had commanded his children to wed, for a woodswitch long favored by her grandmother had visited the Red Keep to prophesy that the prince was promised would be born of their line.
Daenerys jerked, then pulled away from Jon.
If this prince is what Jon said it meant…perhaps he had been born to die. The thought incensed her. Did Rhaegar really do this? Could he and Lyanna Stark have been so cruel?
Moreover, if the followers of R'hllor thought Daenerys was this promised prince…had she, too, been born to die?
Another sob rose…and the contents of her half-digested dinner followed. It stunk the frigid air, but her disgust wasn’t great enough to cause her to stop; her muscles took command, demanding that she retch until there was nothing left. It took her to the edge of the bed, where she groped blindly until she found a metal sheet and brought it forth. She was dimly aware of Jon moving to stand on the stone floor. He ran a soothing hand along her back and stopped to catch her hair, as she retched into the bedpan.
“Leave me!” she gasped, mortified. “Jon, please.”
He hushed her. “Daenerys, please do not be ashamed! I’m here. Do not ask me to leave. I’m here.”
He moved the hand on her back faster and focused on the span between her shoulders, trying to coax the tension out of her muscles. Chagrined, she took his other hand, which he squeezed. It was bone dry and warm, a solid comfort she was distantly aware of, and no more.
Jon passed a hand through her hair one last time, pulling her from her haunted musings. She huffed, licked the acidic grit from her teeth, and then pulled herself back up to lay down on her side. When Jon pushed the bedpan aside to kneel on the floor, a realization came. Words are wind, she had thought, for so long, especially the prophecies among them. Yet so much had happened since the maegi tricked her in the Plains of the Lhazarene. Now that she was here beside her lover, pondering all they meant to the greater world, it was so clear to her now. There was something to Ser Barristan’s words that he and I could not have foreseen. Does everything happen the way it must? Some called it fate. Her wheezes were the only sounds as the sickness left her in a slow drip. They eventually slowed to a halt and her breaths returned to normal.
The outlines of Jon’s handsome face came into view, his dark brows pulled and lips pouting with worry as he seemed to search her eyes. She cupped his cheek weakly, and smoothed her thumb along his stubbled jaw. Weary though she was, she would not be able to return to sleep.
Leaning forward to press his lips to her forehead, Jon whispered, “That’s good. You’re alright. It’s alright, now, Dany.”
He swept the hair from her face, stroked her neck, brushed her shoulders then eventually palmed her waist. She shivered, delighting in his much needed closeness. Then he kissed her forehead again. He climbed into bed again and gently drew her into his arms, encouraging her to tilt her head back to rest on his shoulder. He rubbed light, soothing circles on her belly for many long, peaceful moments. She felt like a rock tumbling in the flow of a river’s current—unable to see yet unable to distrust its strength. What was this? Undeserved peace?
When she followed its source, she found herself musing once more.
Many ran to and fro to search for the one who was promised. Somehow, in all the Known World, the two bearing the designation had met and were in this bed, at this Wall. The Lord of Light had called upon Jon to continue his fight and gave him renewed life. Of course, of the stories she’d heard, none who had been given the kiss had been half as worthy as Jon…but perhaps His grace covered all of mankind. For, when asking R'hllor to give them a glimpse of His chosen, the red priests had seen her and him—their deeds and the shadows they cast—in the flames.
What, then? Was He faithful? Had he held her life in His hands the way a hen huddles chicks beneath her wings? Had he watched her all this time, patiently waiting for her to acknowledge Him? Was He as good as His word?
Her soul had quieted some, enough for her to sense an answer…
A whisper upon the wind.
____________________
Jon had sent for the maester. Once he returned, he helped her to finish building a fire in the hearth, with good humor and quips that no queen should ever tend to such a task. Much needed light and warmth filled the air and brought her once more into his arms. In a quiet voice, he suggested they speak as little of Samwell Tarly as possible, for it was likely that he would send word back to the Citadel about him, the novice who had fled with stolen items of knowledge. Though Archmaester Theobold had no proof, he certainly suspected Samwell. Daenerys was certain that the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch would be furious with the ordeal. He did not strike her as one who enjoyed dealing with the unexpected. In some moments, neither did she. Especially today, it would seem.
“Your assessment of Dolorous Edd is correct,” Jon chuckled. “But why should he enjoy it?”
“He seems quite good at it, to have lasted longer at his post than you,” she teased. “We should all enjoy what we are good at.”
“We should. But we don’t.” He did not jest as she thought he might; instead, a frown had taken his features. “Our Sworn Brothers once called him Sam the Slayer. He was training under Maester Aemon as a steward; I sent him to the Citadel to forge a link or three, not to become a stealer. But I suppose Euron Greyjoy’s threat to Oldtown convinced him to return quickly. This matter…it is something the Lord Commander will have to deal with.”
“With your help, I am sure. Those letters of yours must be invaluable to him.”
His frown deepened, brought on by some aggravation unknown to her. Did he still feel guilty for giving counsel on the Night’s Watch operations? Perhaps his discomfort was prudent. He allowed her to part from him with some reluctance. She could feel his gaze upon her back as she moved to the small table near the lone glass window, musing. In Winterfell, Samwell had told her that her great uncle Aemon Targaryen had loved her, that he had wanted to help her, but he died once their party had docked at Braavos. With her chin in hand, tears blurred her view of the dark courtyard far, far below. Would this great uncle of mine have known Rhaegar? Did they somehow discover his prophecy together? Did he approve of his designs on the realm? What even were they? It was still early enough that dawn light was still hours away. At its appearance, their task to march their army of two-thousand men to fortify their designated castles on the Wall, would come too soon.
“My love…I have never seen you so ill! Did last night’s turnip stew somehow disagree with you? I know you prefer simple dishes.”
Jon knew she desired some space. He had moved to the desk on the other side of the room and leaned against it. Despite the brief respite of earlier, her mood had soured with the taste of bile in her mouth. She raised one shoulder in answer. “It was simple enough.”
“Your dream. Do you want to tell me about it?” Growing irritable, she sighed again.“What I said last night, of my mother’s line…it upset you, didn’t it?” She startled at his accuracy, and his voice rose again, now tremulous. “Was it a dragon dream you had?”
“I…” The babe in Rhaegar’s arm flashed before her eyes. Her heart quickened. “I don’t know.”
The silence that followed was just as painful.
“I am so sorry, Daenerys. I will be more careful.”
“No,” she said quickly. “No, Jon. Don’t be sorry for anything. I need you. Don’t hold anything back from me.”
Not again, she thought. Never again.
“Sweet Daenerys, don’t be afraid. You have me. I’m yours.” He tracked slowly toward her. “I just…I cannot hurt you again. I will not do that again. I would rather die.”
The sudden knock at the great door announced the arrival of Buford of House Belmore. Jon reached her, and passed a soothing hand down her back, then casted pained looks at her even once they turned to scour through their chests to make certain their clothing was decent enough for company: Daenerys in an ankle-length undersilk below a wrapped woolen shift which she tied at the waist, Jon in an undertunic and leather breeches. Once their boots were on, she soothed his pain with a kiss on his cheek and enjoyed his small smile. Then he opened the door and allowed the maester of Castle Black to enter. The other man was overly tall and not yet aged, with light brown hair turning gray at his temples, thin locks cut neatly across his forehead and around his large ears. Eight chains formed a rather tight link around his neck and brown rough spun robes, but they did not weigh him down. Carrying his medicines in a hide, he tucked it under his shoulder then bowed to the Dragon Queen and her royal consort, the King in the North. A steward training under the maester came behind him with a contraption that folded out into a table. As the maester rested his hide and rolled it out on the table, the steward asked for the location of the bedpan. Once he had it in hand, he exited the room and closed the door. Maester Buford thanked King Jon for sending for him so quickly, then sat down to work.
It was a stilted conversation—not much was said, for which she was pleased. Daenerys wanted to get through his examination without any more shame than she was already feeling. He felt below her jaws to test her glands, then asked her to open her mouth of which he looked inside with a small candle, finishing with a check to her pulse at the wrists, then testing the tension of her belly. The maester did not know them, so after concluding that all was well initially, he spent the next few minutes choosing an herbal potion for her to drink over the next fortnight. Once the small vial of purple liquid was in her palm and she was chewing a piece of sourleaf to cleanse her mouth, he looked between the young rulers and folded his palms in his lap.
“If I may ask, your grace…when did your moon blood last come?”
She could not answer the question directly. “It comes in fits and starts.” But he merely blinked at her. “My cycle is not regular.”
“Has it always been this way?” When she would not respond, he said, “Forgive me, Queen Daenerys, but I have heard the story of your previous pregnancy, some years ago, in Essos.”
“My son is not here with us, is he?” she snapped. “Forget those stories—I tell you now, he was not viable. That is what the healers said. He could not be carried to term.”
“I…see.” He trembled, as if afraid. “I am truly sorry, Queen Daenerys.”
Jon shifted on his feet, but said nothing. He squeezed Daenerys’s fingers.
“Forgive me, Maester Buford.” She swallowed the remains of the bitter leaf. “Already, it has been a long morning. And the blood of the dragon runs hot. You see, I often wish my son could have come into this world to experience it for himself.”
Jon sucked in a wet breath and snuck a hand into the nape of her hair; something far too intimate for their guest to see.
But his touch was grounding, and preceded a memory that followed on the heels of her shaky gratitude. It was like standing on the shifting grains of Dragonstone’s cold beach. There, many weeks before they had discovered the island’s northern caves, she had shared with Jon the tale of her dragons’ births upon Drogo’s funeral pyre, as the red comet had passed from west to east. His quizzical requests for more details made her overcome with grief, and so with sympathetic lines around his eyes, he had beseeched her. Say anything about your past, and I will not turn away. Tell me everything, and I will not turn away. The salty Autumn air had filled her tongue, as Rhaego’s name lingered among the virulent waves. She could almost see Jon’s stunned features, sense the comforting strength of his arms around her, and catch the scent of his borrowed furs. It was the first time she had cried in front of him.
Now, she covered her hand with his, when it found rest on her shoulder.
“I understand, your grace,” the maester replied. “It is a great shame. But from what I can see, you have done well to carry on, for which we who aim to fight the dead are grateful. Perhaps the Gods will grace you once more.” He passed a glance over to Jon, and then gave her a small smile that almost reached his eyes. For all intents and purposes, the examination of this maester was not as cold as she had feared.
Curiously she asked, “Do you have any gods, Maester Buford?”
“I follow the Old Gods, your grace. Like my father before me, and his father before him.”
“The Vale is your home,” Jon said, speaking for the first time. “Your brother Lord Benedar holds Strongsong…and has stayed in Winterfell to support my sister Sansa for many moons, now.”
“Aye. But I must correct you, King Jon. I have no brothers but those in black.”
Jon paused, and then he chuckled.
The maester continued. “Perhaps Benedar would have left me as castellan instead of our cousin, but I am already a maester, and I am quite comfortable here at Castle Black. It is the lot that life has cast for second sons and such. But you, King Jon, have risen above all odds.”
Daenerys understood why this maester thought such a notion would be appreciated by Jon, but she knew it was another matter he must worry about. She gestured for him to make himself comfortable, but he gently refused and continued standing at her side.
“All odds.” Jon seemed to weigh the words. “I didn’t do it on my own, ser. Neither did I seek it. If any of our—your brothers ask, please relay that message to them.”
A wrinkled brow relayed the question, Why should it matter? But the maester was wise not to speak so insolently. Ponderously, he shifted his hands on the makeshift table. He could sense that he was being dismissed.
“Very well, your grace. Queen Daenerys, you should eat smaller meals with greater frequency, if the sickness returns on the morrow.”
She eyed him warily. Did he, too, think she was with child? Could he sense that she wasn’t yet certain if she wanted to be?
He moved to his feet, then inclined his head to her. “Only if. In any matter, the vial should be consumed once daily for a fortnight, as I have said. It was a pleasure to have your private audience. I look forward to serving you both in this Great War.”
Somehow, Daenerys doubted that. He did not seem as single-minded as Jon and Samwell’s stories of Maester Aemon. If anything, he seemed to be all talk with little bite. Perhaps it was the least one could hope for, to make one a good maester. As she mused with an absent frown, Buford Belmore rolled the hide holding his vials and instruments closed, then bowed to them both. Daenerys thanked him with as much sincerity as she presently could, as fear slowly snaked around her heart.
Once he neared the door, Jon called after him. “Maester Buford, as you are aware, Queen Daenerys and I are not here to take a tour of the Wall. I hope that when our army has finished its task, we will meet with you again, and discuss other matters with Lord Commander Tollett. Until then, I wish you good fortune in the wars to come.”
Though Buford Belmore’s brows rose to his neat fringe, he obeyed at once, bowing again to them. At the opened door, the steward fetched the table, folded it up and then followed him out. Once the door shut, the crackling fire in the hearth resumed its prominence.
“Why did you say that?” Daenerys asked, craning to meet Jon’s eyes.
“He should know that I will be thinking of him. I do not want him to be the cause of Samwell’s downfall. What will we do if the Citadel found it within them to track Sam down and try him?” He shook his head. It was growing light outside; light enough that his black curls looked less like one mass, and revealed their individual beauty. “I am always thinking of you, as well. Do you really think you could be with child, Daenerys?”
Her gaze turned even softer, eyes tracking the hope and fear lining his face. She had once bared her shame to him and watched with tearful awe as it fell into his hands. What would he say now, that he was called to share this burden once more? She pulled him close by the waist, then tilted her head back until he kissed her. Relief loosened her tongue.
“I hope,” she whispered against his mouth. “And yet I do not hope. I do not think I would deserve something so beautiful.”
“Deserve?” He pulled away, with gentle fingers at her chin. “You are the most deserving! You are the most patient, the most kind. You have never tried to stop understanding me.”
“It is easier than you think, Jon Snow.”
“So you say.” Ignoring her evasion, he gave her a tremulous smile. “My brother and sisters say I am a pain. But you…are a rare, unearthly thing.”
She turned her profile toward him, yet he followed on shifting feet; beautifully quiet, always quiet and thinking. She tried to brace for what would come next, but when he spoke softly, as if to avoid spooking her, she was caught away again.
“Daenerys, what do you think Rhaego would have wanted from you? He would have not wanted you to be ashamed. You were tricked into losing him.” A sob came up her throat, just as wet as the one that had preceded her episode. Unperturbed, Jon drew his arms around her. “I know it is hard, and you have been so brave to have come so far. But I believe you will have to become braver, to bring a child into this world.”
“Bravery has nothing to do with it.” She hesitated once the words were out, although she couldn’t quite call it a snap, weary as she was. Jon did not take offense, nor did he judge. In fact, the preserverant brightness in his eyes carried her gently down that river.
“Forgiveness, then. Rhaego would have wanted you to forgive yourself.”
“He…” Daenerys hiccuped.
“He would have wanted you to be happy. Isn’t that so, my love?”
After a beat, she nodded against his chest, for the second time that morning. It was absurd. Despite being so unceasingly vulnerable on the morning of a march, this was too important to dismiss, delay or bury. Jon knew it well. Now, it was he who hesitated.
“I should have told you this long ago. If you would like…he could be as much mine as he is yours. My sweet Daenerys…” He brushed her silver-pale hair behind her shoulders, trailing the fingertips there as he went. He whispered in her ear, stirring her aching heart further up and up. “He should not be mourned alone, nor remembered alone. I can bear this pain with you. Please, let me.”
It was madness. Although there had been the recent loss of her dearest child Viserion, Daenerys had all she wanted. Across Essos, hundreds of thousands, perhaps millions, of people whose chains had been broken; their cries of freedom reached the ears of each and every god, as they worked with each other to keep it so. A place to vie for in the hearts of the men, women and children of Westeros; and in that place was a war to fight and people to bring peace to. In Jon Snow, a friend, family, a lover—and at his side, home. She had leaned on the certainty of these things for so long…had made herself content with them for so long…that the slim possibility of bearing a living child for him—while Mirri Maz Durr’s impossible prophecy echoed in her ears—caused Daenerys to snap shut upon herself like a timid creature in a shell. It was a misguided try at protection. It was not her nature, for she was blood of the dragon. In fact, she knew she was hurting herself, hurting them. But he was wrong. Her cursed womb was still barren, and was not his burden. Nothing had happened to not make it so.
“Jon, what if…what if there is nothing but pain in store for us? Nothing but grief and blood and smoke?”
He surprised her again, and immediately calmed the tempest.
“Then I will ask you now, of myself.” His sudden smile was brilliant. “Who could love a dragon?” Her wide eyes gave answer enough. He understood her, then. Of the two of them, it was hard to say who had doomed their line more. “Daenerys, even if there is only you and me…then every moment with you is one I will cherish.”
“Even now?” she asked quickly, greedy. That too, she would need to hear again.
“Especially now.”
It was a vow. Even if her bout of illness was a fluke, or if she couldn’t bear a living child, or if they failed to ensure Winter gave way to Spring… They could still be happy. At her stunned silence, he squeezed her once more, then gently pulled away, to trail his hands down her waist and land at her hips. Her softly trembling arms came around his shoulders and she felt utterly safe. Through the lone window, dawn light cut across the floor and landed at their feet. Time slipped away more quickly, as they shuffled to their feet. The fullness of their dancing hearts could not be contained, and so they touched foreheads, swaying in the incandescent beam.
“It is something to think on, while we are separated. I will wait for your answer,” he murmured, then smiled again when she kissed his cheek as a prelude, lips lingering on his stubble, hands finding purchase on his arms. “This, you should also know before we march. After we left the outlaws in the Ice Cells yesterday, I spoke with Edd. I am not yet certain our men will be safe with the Watch.”
She swallowed thickly. Indeed, his long-standing discomfort was prudent.
“What is this about, Jon?”
His face grew long and sullen, and he worked his mouth - as if holding back a scream brought on by a haunting specter. Peace, her lover had found, yet rest, he had not.
“Me.”
.
.
.
to be continued
If you’ve read this far, thank you. You don’t have to have read the first fic, A Long Way Home, to give an opinion on the prose. The prose in that fic was more succinct. Now my muse is calling me to meander through Dany’s introspection, since there’s extremely personal stuff going on…on the morning of a military march. I worry that the inner monologues drone on for too long. Thoughts?
A List of Things To Come
*a long post*
I was on hiatus for about 5 years, but I think it's worth the risk of coming back. These are some thoughts and hot takes I've had since then up to now. My professional life is busy, but when I have the time, I'll share. Anyone interested?
Here's a preview, categorized by fandom:
A Song of Ice and Fire:
For asoiaf canon, I’ll speculate on what Jon and Val could have been, and what they could have had together, if he had not kicked the bucket. I’ll also contrast it with Jon's dreams of a life with her, and why he put the torch to it. :( Because of the root of her dislike of Mel and Shireen, I figure she will not be pleased with un-Jon.
Game of Thrones:
In GoT canon, Jon did not love Dany as much as the script suggested he would. In fact, they both failed to take responsibility for the other person. I haven't seen anyone make a statement like this before. (The PTSD is real.) But fic writers did pick up on this and tried to fix it in canon compliant stories, with a lot of success.
Supernatural:
In Supernatural s12-s14, Mary should have found her sons to be way more weird, specifically with each other. But given what we see of her in s6, her characterization is consistent. She would have, and did, ignore the red flags for an idea of family.
I’ll share approving thoughts on Sam and Dean's relationship in the final seasons, disapproving thoughts on the final season of Supernatural, and how I speculated it would either go Gencest or Destiel. We know what happened. No one walked away happy and I think the fandom was all the better for it.
Destiel is not canon. It only became a one-sided love confession. (I know there's a lot of speculation on what happened b/w the studio, the writer's room and the post-production team. Idc. Not gonna touch it.) Thoughts on how I think SPN could have made Destiel go 100% canon involve tweaking the execution and balancing out the themes of Sam and Eileen's love story, the big bad plot, and Dean and Cas's 'love' story.
Outlander:
Outlander (show-only) thoughts, foremost on Roger Mackenzie. He has vexed me from the first time he appeared on screen. I love him dearly, but he vexes me, for how he consistently affects the plot and how that defines his role among the main cast. Later on, I'll run through my favorite moments, episodes and narrative arcs.
Miscellaneous:
I'll share a list of favorite ship-centric fics I've collected over many, many, many years. (Gotta be over 10 years' worth). Along with blurbs that explain my recommendation in a non-spoilery way. Fandoms include: Harry Potter, LOTR, Supernatural, The Walking Dead, ASOIAF, Game of Thrones, Star Wars (Sequel Trilogy), The Flash, Shadowhunters [look away book fans <3], Hannibal (show-only).
I'll also post drafts of fics I never got right and never finished. Mostly GoT-canon divergent Jon/Dany fics.
Most importantly, some very dear friends have encouraged me to vent and hype up my Jonerys fic series "We Could Live Together" as I write it. It's GoT-canon divergent, but I alter some of what occurred before 6x09. Then the story re-enters book territory and moves toward ADOS conclusions. I'd also love to break down and discuss songs from the playlists when it strikes me.
This is the summary of Part 1, "A Long Way Home" (published):
After the Battle for Winterfell, Jon was captured by Bolton men then later found by Daenerys not far from Dragonstone. Their meeting blossoms into the most honest love--until Jon suddenly leaves for Winterfell, only to return to Dragonstone months later with more terrifying tales of dead men and Winter storms. When Daenerys chooses to send her armies north to fight the dead, all is certain but the matter of their bond. After the pain they'd endured, can they come together again? Or will separation be too powerful to overcome? *or* A romantic tale of choice and second chances.
This is the summary of Part 2, "Awake For Ever In Sweet Unrest" (in-progress and unpublished):
Winter has come and further fractured the realm. Yet Jon and Daenerys's betrothal and alliance is well known throughout the Seven Kingdoms. The secret that threatened to break them has made their love stronger, casting a fragrance of hope that draws to the last Targaryens all who seek refuge from political turmoil. Cersei Lannister has fled King's Landing in favor of establishing a bank in Lannisport, to guard against her deposition by the Iron Bank. Euron Greyjoy has set up a naval blockade at Oldtown, yet manages to beguile the Hightowers. And Walder Frey's sundown years threaten to pull his House into a civil war. From the Wall, Jon and Daenerys begin to wage war on the Others. Yet the age of wonder and terror, of gods and heroes, leads them and their enemies in the least expected ways. It begs the question: does all happen the way it must? *or* A romantic telling of the new War for the Dawn.
This is what I've been doing the past few years: working, (dating lol), re-reading the books and joining theory discussions on other sites. What touched my heart was readers asking for me to continue the fic series. Even as I considered it, I was conflicted. Since the show and book canon are so enmeshed, I think we were really vulnerable to being whipped and scored by D&D. But we all found ways to lick our wounds. I'm grateful we were able to become closer and stronger. I'm glad to be a part of it.
So that's my preview. If you've read this far, thank you. <3
There's more to come.
“Rhaegar's actions had inflicted wounds upon her heart, causing pain and suffering that she vowed to never allow again. She had given him her all, pouring her love and devotion into their marriage, only to receive emptiness in return. He had taken from her without giving anything in return, leaving her feeling drained and betrayed.” From you were my crown (now i’m in exile)
-Summary-
Shortly following her death, Elia Martell is granted an unexpected opportunity for a new beginning. Armed with insight into her own future, she's resolute in evading the path she once walked. Yet, unbeknownst to her, one of the individual's implicated in her tragic end has also been granted a chance at redemption. Will Rhaegar Targaryen manage to rectify his past transgressions, or will he once again succumb to the labyrinth of his own thoughts?
a long way home
Pairing: Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen
Rating: M
Status: Complete
Chapter: 1/5
Series: Part 1 of We Could Live Together
Tags: Post-Episode 6x09 | Established Relationship | AU Canon Divergent | R Plus L Equals J | Post-ADWD | Flashbacks | Mystery
Summary:
Jon is in crisis. After the Battle for Winterfell, he was captured by Bolton men then later found by Daenerys not far from Dragonstone. Their meeting blossoms into the most honest love--until a letter enables Jon to leave for Winterfell, only to return to Dragonstone months later than preferred with more terrifying tales of dead men and Winter storms. When Daenerys sends her armies north to fight the dead, all is certain but the matter of their bond. After the pain she’d endured, can she forgive him? Or will Jon’s sufferings be too powerful to overcome together?
*or*
A romantic tale of choice and second chances.
Chapter 1: "Forgive Me"
10k words
In the present: Jon returns to Dragonstone for help. Dany has little patience to give. In the past: Their fates change with a meeting upon a rock in the middle of the Narrow Sea. In the present: After Jon’s return to the place they fell in love, they have a long-awaited conversation with unexpected results.
Read it here on ao3. Thanks to @nonnyfcknawesome93 for cheerleading. I'm posting this long-ago finished fic to my new blog because I'm currently writing the sequel and hope to catch the attention of new readers. Thank you. Jonerys lovers, unite! <3
the dragon prince and the dornish princess
this piece is a love letter to rubicon: a dreamer’s sextet by eldritcher, possibly the best asoiaf fic i’ve ever read
Baby, Please Come Home
Christmas Oneshot based on Christmas (Baby, Please Come Home) by Darlene Love. Modern AU.
Read it on Ao3
The streets outside were more crowded than she’d ever seen them, except for a few days ago, when they lit up the big tree in the square. She hadn’t had the heart to attend this year. It made no sense to stand in the crowd and remind herself how alone she was. Now she watched as other lovey dovey couples strolled around and gazed up at the pretty lights.
Winterfell had the prettiest Christmas decorations, twinkling lights and poinsettias covered nearly every surface. They dangled over the street and wound around every light pole like alien ivy. The sight would fill anyone with wonder but Dany only wanted to walk faster so she wouldn’t have to look at it.
A haunting hollow sound filled the air, the clanging of the church bells to signal the hour. Only five o’clock at night and it was dark. More time for everyone else to enjoy the lights. Dany paused at a crosswalk, the inconvenience deepening her already agitated mood. Across the street, children laughed and Dany spied a young couple taking a selfie with a santa inflatable. A dangerous mix of yearning and quiet fury swirled inside her, like mixing bleach with any other cleaning solution. If she didn’t get out of there she was going to pass out. The signal changed and she was able to walk the next two blocks, advancing ever closer to her apartment.
a long way home
Pairing: Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen
Rating: M
Status: Complete
Chapter: 2/5
Series: Part 1 of We Could Live Together
Tags: Post-Episode 6x09 | Established Relationship | AU Canon Divergent | R Plus L Equals J | Post-ADWD | Flashbacks | Mystery
Summary:
Jon is in crisis. After the Battle for Winterfell, he was captured by Bolton men then later found by Daenerys not far from Dragonstone. Their meeting blossoms into the most honest love--until a letter enables Jon to leave for Winterfell, only to return to Dragonstone months later than preferred with more terrifying tales of dead men and Winter storms. When Daenerys sends her armies north to fight the dead, all is certain but the matter of their bond. After the pain she’d endured, can she forgive him? Or will Jon’s sufferings be too powerful to overcome together?
*or*
A romantic tale of choice and second chances.
Chapter 2: "Take Charge of Your Life"
14k words
In the present: Daenerys arrives at Winterfell. Meets the family and a strange character. An investigation draws her to Jon's side. In the past: On Dragonstone, they receive a letter from Sansa Stark. Jon goes home.
Read it here on ao3. Thanks to @nonnyfcknawesome93 for cheerleading. I'm posting this long-ago finished fic to my new blog because I'm currently writing the sequel and hope to catch the attention of new readers. Thank you. Jonerys lovers, unite! <3
Yours First - A Christmas Special
For Jonerys Winter Wonderland 2023 @snowxstormworld
Day 3 Prompt: Who needs Santa when you have me?
Summary: It's baby Kimilia's first Christmas and Dany wants everything to be perfect.
Read it here on AO3
The Second Chance Holiday Club
Fanart and Fic for @snowxstormworld's Jonerys Winter Wonderland 2023 | Day 1 | Holiday Magic
Jon never had much luck with love. Not even time travel could help that. He’s all but given up, when he meets Daenerys two weeks before Christmas. When their instant connection is thwarted by a change in fate, can Jon find a way to get the girl of his dreams? -An About Time AU-
20k words | Rating: E | Time Travel | Christmas Party | Family Drama | Humor | Angst
Read it here on ao3.
Thank you, @jellybeanficwriter for your help in adding this to the collection and to all admin at @snowxstormworld for hosting the event. I had so much fun making this.
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, Jonerys lovers! <3
Look for Me By the Moonlight / Ch 1
Hello! Here's my contribution to Forever Yours, Forever Mine 2024 hosted by @iceandfirejonerysdiscord. This is for Day 3, star-crossed lovers ❤️
Thank you to @moondancer71 for the beautiful MB and for beta reading!
Betrothed since birth, Jon and Dany never managed to get along. Just as their rivalry fades and their romance begins to bud, a powerful sorcerer decides he wants Dany all for himself - and he has enough power to take her. Trapped, and under a spell, only true love can break the curse that holds her.
You can read here on A03. Thank you!
Ice & Fire Jonerys Discord
I Think He Knows
The woollens have been put away, time for Jon and Dany to brave another chaotic season ❤️
This is my late participation in @snowxstormworld JonerysSummerLovin event. A continuation of my winter themed story, Wool to Brave the Seasons. It’s very silly 🤭 Summary/snippet is below 🥰
She drew in a deep breath. The sharp, briny air and salt laced breeze flirted with her loose hair as Jon’s arms wound around her from behind and he rested his chin on her shoulder. She leaned back into him and waited. Any second now...
“You two are in the master upstairs. I deliberately chose the room on the opposite side of the house. If I hear one sigh or noise, I’ll tell mother about the time you broke her favorite necklace and blamed it on my poor pup,” Viserys said in his outside voice and Dany stifled a snort as she and Jon turned to face him.
“Your prissy little dog is always eating her things when you visit. Who do you think she’ll believe, you or me?”
A romance forged in winter never withers as Jon and Dany vacation in a land of summer and sand. Grappling with the heat and an obnoxious Viserys, they reach a delicate realization that they're exactly where they're supposed to be—part two to Wool to Brave the Seasons.
✷ . . A SONG OF ICE AND FIRE
The Taming of the Dragon ( Aemond Targaryen ) Series. WIP
✷ . . LORD OF THE RINGS
Mirage ( Aragorn )
Amidst the Battle of the Hornburg, Aragorn sees a mirage cast up by the Valar⏤for it is impossible for a lady to fight as valiantly as the one in front of him.
✷ . . HARRY POTTER
Admitting Defeat ( Moonstar ) WIP
Two times Sirius fails to convince Remus to use a cane and the one time he does not.
Ars Longa ( James Potter ) HL AU. WIP
While trying to escape from Mr. Filch, James Potter discovers a strange portrait hidden under a sheet in one of the many corridors of Hogwarts.
✷ . . EXTRA
Strings ( Eddie Munson )
If there is one person that can piss Eddie Munson off, it’s his new neighbour... or the three times Eddie Munson ends up angry with her and how it stopped.
wordbreaker, 2024.
Only a few hours left 🫶
So I accidentally created a weirdly funny situation in my own fic. One of my OCs, Dyanna, is from House Tully and for her fancast I chose Abigail Cowen. I thought she fit the character and thought nothing more about it until recently when I realized that Abigail is American. Most of the cast of House of the Dragon is from the UK with many having a British accent. Now every time I write her, I can't help imagining Dyanna speaking in an American accent with everyone else having a British one.
The other characters would have no idea why she sounds like that cause like she's from the Riverlands and no one else from there sounds like that? Her own kids have British accents so maybe they would think she's being funny and doing a bit? But also anyone else would wonder what accent that even is since America isn't a thing?
Aegon: Dyanna have you seen Jace?
Dyanna *with a heavy Floridan accent*: He’s playing with Viserys, love.
Aegon: …
Aegon *turns to Alicent*: Does Lady Dyanna always talk like that?
Alicent *with a hundred-yard stare*: Yes, we don't know why and we can't get her to stop
IDK yall💀
Teddy's Masterlist
House of the Dragon/ASOIAF
Rhaenicent fanfics
A Targaryen Type of Madness (finished series)
Rhaenyra Targaryen always had a hint of madness in her, though it would take many years for its extent to be realized.
The Madness of Dragons (ongoing series)
After six years, the heirs of the Iron Throne have come out of hiding and want to reclaim their birthright. The dragons will dance as war breaks out between Queen and Heirs. Continuation of A Targaryen Type of Madness.
Last Christmas (on hiatus)
Last Christmas Alicent Hightower gave Rhaenyra Targaryen her heart, but the very next day everything fell apart. This year to save herself from tears, Alicent vows to avoid her at their family's Christmas vacation. Will Alicent keep her vow? Or will her heart be broken again?
Underneath the Veil of Hatred (finished series)
Princess Rhaenyra gives birth to a third child, a son with brown hair and dark eyes. The realm believes the child's true father to be the Princess' sworn sword, Harwin Strong. Queen Alicent Hightower orders to the child be brought to her.
Good Luck Egg (ongoing series)
Jace Targaryen was one of the eldest siblings of his two mothers and when he found out they would be having yet another child he was both excited and nervous. His baby brother, Egg, would have to navigate life through their crazy family so as any good brother would do he started creating video diaries to give him advice for the future. Based on Good Luck Charlie.
The Dance of the Dragon and the Tower (finished one shot)
The Queen appears in a shocking green dress and the Princess seems to feel a certain way about it.
We Always Burn (finished one shot)
Rhaenyra Targaryen is sure she knows what she wants until it comes crashing down after an encounter on the beach of Driftmark.
When the World is Ending (finished one shot)
In a post-Zombie Apocalyptic world, Rhaenyra ventures to find a compound and the one within it.
Aegon the 3rd x Jaehaera fanfics
Night Talks (finished one shot)
Jaehaera awakes to find her husband gone from their bed, she finds him and they share a moment where they believe just maybe things will be alright.
Just a Man (finished one shot)
When Aegon falters his queen is always there by his side.
A Small Piece (finished one shot)
Jaehaera wonders if her husband loves her, and his response surprises her.
A Question (finished one shot)
Jaehaera asks her husband a question that brings up old feelings.
Non-Pairing fics
The Bastard Boy of Dragonstone (ongoing series)
A boy from Dragonstone claims a dragon and to keep things hidden Viserys legitimatizes him as a Targaryen. However, no one knows who this boy is or what his intentions are.
A Welcome to Dorne (finished one shot)
Meria Martell greets Rhaenys Targaryen when she lands in Dorne.
Long Live the King (finished one shot)
King Viserys the 1st was found murdered in chambers, while there were many theories no one truly knows what occurred that dark night. Inspired by Murder on the Orient Express.
Mercy (finished one shot)
Daeron Targaryen receives news about his nephew Maelor from Bitterbridge.
Credit to @moonshine999 for the mood boards/dividers. Also, check out my AO3 :)
