#as well as wife / mistress to issa

[magalidragon]

OMG I was cleaning out my WIP folder and found a Jonerys Addam’s Family remix I started in October and never finished aka forgot about. I guess I have Halloween fics ready. It is in three months after all.

Here’s a blurb. It’s so bad, it was right when I started writing Jonerys. 🤣

Little Sam was not deterred by the dog’s size or its peculiar eyes. He stepped towards it; hand outstretched. “Wow! Big dog!”

“Sam no!” she exclaimed, grabbing for him. She stepped backwards to the door, preparing to whisk her son away from the vicious animal. Even though the animal hadn’t made one move towards her son other than cocking its head curiously.

“This is Ghost,” the silver-haired woman purred, leaning down—not very far since the dog almost came to her shoulder—to ruffle his ears. She kissed his nose, the dog licking at her cheek. She giggled again, like a little girl. “And he’s not a dog, he’s a wolf.”

Sam yelped. “A wolf!? Is that legal?”

“Of course.”

They all looked up at the second level and Gilly’s eyes further widened, staring up at what she thought might be one of the most handsome men she had ever seen. Of course, she hastily thought, she loved Sam dearly but…gods. The man who took a step down towards them was wearing an all black suit, tailored perfectly to his thin yet muscular frame. He had black curly hair pulled halfway from his face into a bun and a trimmed black beard. She noted that his gray eyes were the same shape and color as the other woman. Perhaps they were related.

He walked, no he— glided— down the staircase, coming to stand by the beautiful silver-haired woman, who beamed at him, immediately molding against him. “My love,” she purred, dragging a blood-red nail down over his pale face. She pursed her lips. “Arya brought us new neighbors!”

“I was thinking of making them a pie,” Arya said. There was a somewhat demonic gleam in her eyes.

Gilly lifted her brows and Little Sam looked up from where he’d been digging his shoe into a knot in the wooden floor. “I like pies,” he piped up. He cocked his head. “What kind? I like apple.”

Arya pursed her lips, a smile still tugging at them and her eyes flashed, glancing sideways at the man, who was glaring at her, almost in warning. “I can make an apple pie. I think.”

“No,” the man said, final. Arya stuck her lower lip out in a pout. He turned his face back to them, apologizing. “My sister is not that good of a baker, you really wouldn’t like her pies.”

“The dragons do,” the woman said.

“Dragons?” Little Sam asked. Gilly laughed, nervous again; maybe Sam was right—perhaps they should have just left their neighbors to themselves. She was getting quite a strange vibe from them. Very intense and…just plain odd. It was like they were from another world. She took sight of the lanterns and old-fashioned oil lamps on the walls. Or another time, maybe.

Sam cleared his throat, pushing by her and offering his hand. “My name is Samwell Tarly, this is my wife Gilly and our son Little Sam. We’ve already met your…”

“Sister,” he and the brown-haired woman said at the same time.

The silver-haired woman had now wound herself almost entirely around the man, her violet eyes boring holes into them. It made Gilly oddly uncomfortable how close they were to each other. She was all one for public affection, she did not consider herself too prudish, but this was almost too much, especially in front of perfect strangers. The woman made a sound like a purr, dragging her finger down his face, her bright red lips pulling up over her teeth. “This is my husband Jon.” She licked her lips, her pupils turning her eyes almost entirely black. “Issa zokla.”

Gilly arched her brows at the odd language, but even more so when the man named Jon made a sound like a growl, sweeping the woman around and lifting her feet off the ground; she wasn’t wearing any shoes and her toenails were painted the same blood red as her nails. “Gods Dany, you know how the Valyrian makes me.”

“Of course, I know.”

Arya grinned. “Ignore them. They’re foul, especially when Dany speaks Valyrian.”

Sam gaped, shaking his head and pulling on her hand. “We should leave.”

The woman spoke, Gilly guessed this was the Dany that Arya referenced. “Oh no don’t leave, Jon was just forgetting his manners. He can be such an uncouth wolf. By the way zokla, you seemed upset when you came down just now, whatever happened?” Gilly couldn’t tell how she knew that the man was upset, he seemed to have a perpetually dour look.

The man—Jon—shrugged. “I wanted you to know that Lyanna started another fire but I put it out.” He looked over at Little Sam, smiling down at him, but the smile did not meet his eyes. “And it seems we may finally have a friend for our little Lyanna.”

“You have a daughter?” Sam asked. Gilly wasn’t sure why he was nervous to ask, but she supposed he should be. This entire introduction had been quite odd. Surreal was probably a better term for it.

The woman—Dany—beamed, with the glow only a mother could have for the mention of her child. Gilly smiled, pleased to see it, as she recognized it completely, having felt the same pride at the mention of her son. “Yes! Our little Lyanna, she’s six.” She turned back to the house, walking over to the bannister and banged her hand on the wall, the sound of her small hand somehow—rather unnaturally—reverberating through the house. “Lyanna!” she bellowed, with a volume and strength that belied her tiny frame.

Jon idly brushed at his suit lapel, rather bored. “She’s probably in the dungeons.”

Sam and Gilly shot each other horrified looks. Dungeons!?

“She loves the dungeons,” Arya said. She handed the plant to Dany. She smirked. “I’m going to go find Gendry. I think he’s probably had enough of the shackles.”

Shackles!?

Just who exactly were these people, Gilly wondered, trying to smile but found herself gripping Little Sam’s shoulders tight so he didn’t try to lunge for the wolf, which had moved closer to his master, all glowing red eyes and blinding white fur.  She was trying not to be frightened or at least <i>show</i> how frightened she was but it was proving difficult the longer they were in the company of these people.  She smiled, weak.  “Um…so your names…” She was trying to say them, but found her voice caught in her throat.  “Um…”

“Oh of course, so sorry!”  The woman pressed her hand to her chest, her violet eyes earnest.  “My name is Daenerys and this is my husband Jon.”  She rose on her toes.  “Issa zokla.”

The same words she’d said before had the man growling again, nipping at her lower lip, which she stuck out as she grit her teeth, and growling as well.  “Speak more Valyrian and we’ll see the wolf.”

“Valyrian?” she finally asked, confused, at the same time Sam exclaimed in immediate curiosity.  “Valyrian!?”

Dany turned, her back pressed against her husband’s front.  Gilly blinked, shocked, as the little woman wiggled herself against him in a rather obscene manner.  Jon simply kissed her temple, muttered something to her and she frowned, but backed off of him.  “Oh yes, my family hails from Old Valyria, it’s my mother tongue.”  She stepped to Sam, violet eyes expanding, that girlish curiosity returning.  “Do you know Valyrian?”

“Ah…I studied it as an elective in college, but I am afraid I did not pick it up well.”

“That’s too bad.”  She glanced at Gilly, smiling warmly.  “Valyrian does wonderful things for the soul, it is the only language suited for poetry.”  She turned back to her husband, biting his lower lip.  “And it does incredible things for passion.”

“Indeed,” Jon said, kissing her again.  He turned his intense gaze on them both.  “Thank you for the plant.”

Gilly’s mouth fell slightly, unsure what to say to that.  She jumped, skittish, when she heard the sound of something—or someone—screaming.  “What…what’s that?”The couple exchanged bored looks.  

“Probably Bran,” Dany said.  She sighed, waving her hand nonchalantly.  “My brother-in-law, he keeps ravens.  They are dreadfully loud sometimes.”  She frowned, glancing at Jon.  “Oh darling, do you think it could be Viserys?  I thought I told Lyanna to keep him from the fire.”  She sighed, her smooth brow wrinkling in annoyance.  “He really should know by now that he is not a dragon.”

“I’ll go check.”  Jon smiled at them both again, in that rather bored, vacant away.  “It was nice to meet you both.  I will send Lyanna over whenever we find her.”

Dany clapped her hands again, gesturing for them to enter further into the house.  “Would you like to come in for something to drink?  We have a lovely Arbor Gold that my dear friend Tyrion left us after he…” She trailed off, a somewhat sad look on her beautiful face.  Before she wiped it completely and beamed some more.  “Went on holiday.”

Sam pulled at her elbow, which Gilly did not mind at all, taking her step backwards as well.  “Um, we should really get back home.”  He spoke loudly, stammering.  “M-m-my b-b-brother k-k-knows…”

“He’s saying his brother is expecting us.”  It was a lie, but Gilly was just as terrified of this strange family as Sam was now.  Even if she still wanted to know more.  Like how the woman in front of her looked so young. Or at least looked like she hadn’t given birth, her stomach as flat as anything.  Gilly self-consciously touched her abdomen.  She still carried a couple of stubborn pounds from Little Sam.  She shot him a look; he was still trying to get to the wolf, who had remained dutifully at his mistress’s side.

The woman smiled again.  “That’s wonderful.  My brother lives with us too.  As does my great-uncle.  Aemon.  Don’t worry if you see him wandering around, he’s blind but he gets by just fine.  Also, my husband’s little sister and brother live with us, sometimes his other sister visits but she’s a horrible bore, so normal.”

Gilly shuddered to think what this family thought was normal.  It was clear that they had a rather peculiar take on things.  Manners, décor, pets…they mentioned dungeons and fire the way she referred to Little Sam playing with trains and cars.  “Um, we need to go.  We will…ah…enjoy the plant!”  

They were out of the house faster than she thought she could move, almost hauling Little Sam up off the ground and carting him over her shoulder.  She grabbed his hand instead, hurrying back down the driveway and beyond the iron gates, not stopping until they were back at their house, door shut and locked.  

She heaved her breath, rushing upstairs to their bedroom, throwing open the curtains and staring at the house, eyes wide.  She stared across the way, to the big mansion, with its vines, iron, and dragons.  “Who the seven hells are they?” she gasped.

Sam shut their door and looked out with her, shaking his head.  “I have no idea, but Little Sam is never going over there.” Agreed.