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jsprnt · 7 months

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Americano PT. 3 | Jude Bellingham x Reader

What happens if two individuals who absolutely despise each other are forced to interact after unforeseen events occur?

A/N: almost posted this with a missing part 💀 anyways, enjoy! (Ramadan Mubarak to my practicing babes!)

W/C: 3.782

part two

"What are you doing here?"

"Why are you here?"

We both exclaim at the same time, his hand cradling his shocked face as I look at him with my own wide eyes.

I glance at my dad; he doesn't look all too happy. I avert my gaze to Jude's mom, gulping down whatever saliva I have left in my now-dry mouth.

I actually had quite a few nice interactions with her during matches. We'd always talk when we bumped into each other. I not-so-shockingly got along more with his mom than Jude himself.

But this...

This isn't a nice interaction whatsoever.

I don't know if I should laugh or cry.

"I am so sorry. As you might know, y/n is insanely clumsy." My dad begins, his hand on Jude's back. He manages to guide him further into his firm.

I'm left standing alone with Jude's mom as we stare at each other for a second. My body stiffening in fear of what she might say.

"I am so sorry-" I start rambling, feeling my palms become sweaty.

I was more sorry to her than her son, to be completely honest.

I watch her eyes warm up immediately, her hand reaching over to place her hand on my shoulder.

"I think he'll be alright. Are you? Looked painful there." She says, her eyes full of concern as she squeezes my shoulder.

"I'm fine, perfect." I blurt, neglecting the pain in my own ankle and look behind her.

I was so dead.

I try to not look too nosy when I sit at the secretary's desk outside of my dad's office. Peering inside sneakily through the huge glass panels. Watching Jude and his mom sit across from him, a couple documents placed on the table they're sitting at.

I do make eye contact with an injured-looking Jude. He looks pissed, nodding his head repeatedly to whatever my dad was saying while holding up a pink ice pack to his head.

A sight that could be seen as comical, if I ignored the fact that I was the one who had caused it.

Thankfully, both of our parents don't notice the death stare we're giving each other, totally immersed into- what I assume, important conversation.

Come to think of it, why were they even here today?

It could only be the stalker incident.

I'm brought out of my thoughts quickly by a hand knocking on my desk.

"Stop staring already."

Luckily, ‘my-ego-is-bigger-than-my-head' Jude had returned just in time before I started to genuinely feel bad.

I lean back in my chair, eyes skimming his face for any bruises or blood. Not noticing anything unusual yet.

"It hurt, didn't it?" I ask, wanting to laugh. The situation unfolded so ridiculously fast, it felt like a camera prank waiting to be revealed.

"You could've messed with my face!" He replies in a hushed voice, his Brummie accent thick as he leans over the desk.

"Should I hit the other side? Just to make it even.” I smile, standing up and going to stand in front of him. Ignoring the shooting pain in my ankle.

He looks at me in disbelief, cocking a brow at me.

"What are you even doing here? Got sued for being insufferable?"

"Very creative with your insults.." I mock, pointing towards my dad's office. Seeing his mom and my dad still talking to each other.

"That's my dad."

"That's your dad?" He repeats, brows furrowing. He points at me, a little too disrespectfully, a look of disbelief on his face.

"Yes, that is my dad." I roll my eyes in annoyance.

"That's why you look so close with Ancelotti?" He gasps. "That's how you got the job!" He assumes, an accusatory finger pointed at me as he steps closer to me.

"No, and that's actually none of your business." I state, leaning back so his hand doesn't touch me.

I got the job after I submitted an anonymous application a little after I had returned from London. It was only just to try out my luck, but I was surprised when I got an email back for an actual interview.

I understood the assumption totally, and I wouldn't say I knew exactly a hundred percent that they didn't know who I was.

Most I could go off of was that I never told my dad I applied for the job. Later also finding out that the Real Madrid executives don't really look at job applications. They had other people do that. So the nepotism possibility was very small.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, tilting my head.

His expression immediately drops, his gaze averting.

"None of your business." He repeats my answer, mocking my tone.

"Okay, I guess not." I sigh, throwing my hands up in defeat, hearing footsteps come our way.

"Have you guys made up? You and Jude must be closer than I thought." His mom says, smiling at me.

I force a smile, nodding at her. My expression changing immediately.

"Yes, we made up. Right Jude?" I look at him, putting on my sweetest face.

"Sure." He mutters, turning to my dad.

"I didn't know she was your daughter. How do you deal with her?"

I was about to rip the door off its hinges and slam the door into his face again.

"She's a handful, isn't she? Troublemaker since she was little." My dad says, and I look at him shocked, as if he'd just betrayed our entire lineage.

No, I was not!

I step in between them before my dad ruins my image even more. Looking at Jude's mom in particular.

"Should we have some coffee?"

"So, what brings you two here? Not something horrible, I hope.” I pry, setting down the plastic tray of cups on the table.

I glance at my dad for a moment, placing a cup of coffee in front of everyone before sitting next to him, across from Jude and his mom.

"We had an incident in our home. Police are still investigating, but we were advised by the club to contact your dad for any legal action." His mom explains.

I was right.

"Oh, that must’ve been terrifying. Are you both alright?"

"We weren't home, but it definitely shook us a bit."

I nod in acknowledgment, taking a sip of my coffee as I take her words in.

"I know my dad and his team of lawyers will be very helpful. Both criminal and corporate law, the best in the city." I brag, winking, putting a hand on my dad's shoulder.

"y/n.." my dad warns, bellow a whisper, giving me a side eye.

I hear his mom chuckling and avert my gaze to her with a raised brow.

"You know- you've got to take compliments, especially from your daughter." She smiles, bringing the cup up to her lips.

My eyes move over to Jude. He's slumping in his chair, looking insanely uninterested in the conversation. I think I even caught him grimacing when I spoke.

The conversation his mom and my dad have practically fades in the background for a second. My mind wandering to random thoughts as I look to the side.

I only redirect my attention when I hear my name, followed by Jude's.

"-to work together?" My dad says, and I look back at Jude. Motioning for him to answer whatever my dad had asked. He doesn't say a single word, prompting me to discreetly kick him underneath the table.

'What?' He mouths at me, then he looks at my dad.

"It's very fun to work with y/n. She's such an interesting character." He answers, bright smile on his lips.

How backhanded could a compliment be?

"Yeah, so fun. Jude's has his moments, but we get along so well." I bite back, my tone sweet as ever. Holding back a wince as I feel him step on my shoe underneath the table.

"Oh, that's great.." His mom trails off, her eyes flickering in between us.

"Jude and y/n will be seeing each other a lot. As she's traveling closely with the team this season." My dad says proudly, this time putting his hand on my shoulder.

"That's even better. You can improve your Spanish faster with her help, Jude." His mom adds, causing a forced smile to form on his face.

"Yeah, that's very nice." He comments, sitting up and straightening his posture.

Our very nice conversation finally ends. My father and I standing up to follow them out of the firm.

"Lovely having you, Mrs. Bellingham." I say, extending my hand.

"You too, y/n." She says smiling, giving me a firm hand.

I smile, letting go of her hand, watching our parents shake each other's hands. I then look away, standing awkwardly in front of Jude.

"See you tomorrow, Jude." I mumble; it pains me physically to be nice to him.

"See you." He says, already walking away. His back turned to me as he stands outside.

After many greetings, my dad finally closes the door behind them, slowly turning to me.

"Really? What kind of show were you putting on?" He begins, throwing his hands up.

"Dad! You have to check this door out. I tried to open it like three times, and the key barely turned!" I explain, speaking hurriedly.

"I swear, it wasn't on purpose. I didn't even know they were here!" I add, trying to defend myself further.

"Let's just go home..." He mutters walking back into his office, collecting his laptop bag and a couple documents.

I sigh, following behind him like a lost puppy. Slowly becoming more aware of the pain in my ankle.

"Where is everybody?"

"We finished this big case successfully, and I sent everyone home early. I had to stay back because of this appointment." He turns to me.

"Why are you here, though?"

"I wanted to visit and work on that essay."

"You're still not done with it?" He asks, locking his office door.

"No.." I reply guilty, fidgeting with the stack of bracelets on my wrist.

He sighs, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and pushing me towards the entrance.

"I'll cook fresh tonight, and you'll work on that essay. What do you say?"

I crack a smile at his words, nodding.

"Deal! I would love some lasagna right now."

"I think- I'm going to faint."

I look up from my phone, frowning at Luis. The sun beaming down on our faces as we try to collect ourselves.

"No, you're not. You're going to show him how much of a professional you are with a camera." I say, patting his shoulder in reassurance.

We had received a very detailed email after agreeing to capture Apple CEO Tim Cook's visit to the club. This led us to stand in front of the training pitch, as we were instructed to film and take pictures of Cook interacting with the players.

Normally, we had timed posts that got posted automatically via an automated system.

This time, I had to live update the social media accounts of the club. Doing it all alone with Luis this time was a new experience.

We had only done it with approval for edits and drafts, and of course, goals that were scored or unexpected things that happened during matches.

"Take a deep breath and turn your camera on."

I say checking the time and posting another story on the club's Instagram before looking up.

We make sure to capture everything perfectly and move quickly to post the footage online.

After a few, excruciating fifteen minutes, we finally finish filming. Thinking Cook and President Pérez would just walk away, until they started approaching us. My own nerves building up as I glance at Luis who looks like he's about to actually lose it.

"Get your shit together, dude." I whisper, plastering a smile on my face as I finally shake Cook's hand. President Pérez also extending his hand as I shake it, a little more careful of my actions.

I wish I could just ask for a new MAC and a hundred million euros.

"Nice to meet you, sir. I'm y/n. Part of PR and marketing." I grip Cook's hand firmly, looking into his blue eyes through his black-rimmed glasses.

"Likewise." He responds, shaking Luis' hand as well.

"So, you two are the brains behind the genius team?" Cook asks, looking in between the two of us.

"Very flattering, but we have an amazing team beside us. We've been chosen today for our recent hard work. Though, I would say- Luis here is definitely one of the best, if not the best cameraman to work with." I say, trying to speak in the most polite way possible, smiling kindly.

I had never sucked up to someone this hard, but it had to be done.

I watch Cook's gaze move over to Luis, looking impressed.

"Well, I've seen what you've put out. My biggest reason to visit is definitely because of your team. As you have might have heard, I am very impressed by the amount of growth this football club has had on social media. I think you two definitely deserve to take some of that credit."

"Thank you, sir. We do appreciate that." Luis says, and I watch his facial expression intently.

He was really good at pretending to be okay.

"Right, then we will make our way back inside." President Pérez interrupts. We nod almost immediately, giving them a polite smile as they walk away.

We both watch them leave our proximity. Then look at each other with a blank stare before I witness Luis burst out in laughter.

"I've never heard you speak so sweetly."

"What should I have done. Call them 'dude!' or 'mate!'. Besides, I just gassed you up in front of the CEO of Apple. Thank me at least." I say, scoffing, checking the analytics of the posts before looking back up at the training pitch.

"Thank you. You're the best." He mutters, giving me a side hug.

"I know.." I say teasingly, shoving my phone in my pocket.

"Is it me, or did these guys just start training like their lives depended on it?" I laugh, seeing almost all of them fully drenched in sweat.

"Well, they had to impress the president as well."

I nod at Luis' answer, finally seeing Ancelotti dismiss the team. We watch them stop training, hearing some sighs of relief.

I hear someone call out to us, and we look around confused. Eventually, my eyes lock with Cama's.

"Yeah?" I shout back, watching him jog our way. Of course, the young French duo completes as Aurélien follows him.

« Comment c'était? » How was it?

Eduardo asks, a bright smile on his face as he still looks, very obviously tired.

« C'était bien, ce n'était pas très difficile. » It was good, not that hard.

I boast, seeing Luis look partially lost in the corner of my vision. I was sure he could make out some words, though.

« vraiment? » really?

Aurélien chimes in, having heard the first few sentences from afar.

"We were a little nervous, but I think we handled it nicely." I wink, jabbing Luis as if he could follow.

"What's with the French?" I hear, seeing the person I'd seen enough of this week already.

I watch Eduardo throw an arm around Jude's shoulder, bringing him into the circle.

"Just talking." He says, the atmosphere turning awkward for a moment.

My phone starts ringing right at that second. I quickly reach for my phone and read the caller ID.

'Hugo (PR)'

I show the phone to Luis for a moment, as he nods, giving me the go ahead.

I walk a couple meters away for privacy, then pick up the call. My walk a little off as my ankle still hurts. Only because of Thursday’s debacle. I don't even know why I didn't get it checked out yet.

The call lasts a couple of minutes, and I walk back to the group of guys. Looking at Luis in particular.

"Luis, we need to go meet Hugo. He wants a debrief on how everything went."

"We will see you guys during lunch." I say to the players, bending down to unzip the equipment bag, helping Luis pack the camera.

"Why do you walk so weird?" I suddenly hear Jude say, his voice filled with curiosity as I look up.

I sigh in annoyance, rolling my eyes, before standing up and handing Luis a battery he had to pack.

"Remember when I smacked the door into your face?" I say, hearing confused noises coming from the guys next to us. I ignore them, focused on rolling up a cable semi-aggressively while looking at Jude.

"You weren't the only one in pain, hurt my own ankle as well." I mutter, still pissed about the incident.

He doesn't respond, continuing to look at me blankly. Prompting me to ignore him further.

"You guys need any help?" I hear Aurélin say, and I shake my head.

"No, it's fine; we're used to it." I smile, muttering a quick 'bye' before Luis and I go inside, mentally preparing for the debrief.

"That was not the best I've seen." I whisper to Luis, as his face looked understandably grim.

"I don't even want to know what the mood in the changing room is like."

We were making our way to our cars in the parking lot after the disappointing 1-3 defeat against Atletico Madrid.

We were done with shooting content and decided to leave early. More people wandering around with cameras and all would probably be even more of a nuance to the players after a defeat like this.

"Just turn on a song. That is the only way we can forget about the pain." I half-joke as we unlock our respective cars. Both conveniently parked next to each other.

"What? Are you playing Future again?"

"Exactly."

Unlike the match on Sunday, the match against Las Palmas ended successfully with a 2-0 win for Real Madrid. The players finally made their way inside after a celebration with their proud fans, walking up the stairs through their stadium tunnel. Jude walking alongside his teammates into the changing room.

His eyes catch Luis interviewing his teammate and Man Of The Match, Joselu. He looks around for a second, not seeing the girl he'd grown accustomed to fighting with every time they interacted. Confused as to why she wasn't doing her usual post-match task.

Ignoring his brewing thoughts, he walks into the changing room. He hears his name being shouted halfway through taking his sweaty shirt off. Looking up to find Antonio looking at his arm.

"Your arm is bleeding, man. Get it treated at the nurse." Antonio suggests, patting his shoulder.

He nods, thanking the man. He puts his T-shirt on carefully, trying not to make contact with the wound. Dressed in a clean shirt, he steps out of the changing room. Walking through the hallways and knocking on the door of the medical room before opening it.

No medical personnel is in sight. Though, he does see someone curled up in a blanket on one of the treatment beds.

The person raises her head to check out who entered, a groan leaving her lips in dissatisfaction as she spots a confused Jude.

"Why are you here?" He asks, eyes roaming on her defeated figure.

"I'm dying, obviously." She mumbles, burying her head deeper into the pillow.

"Finally." He mutters, rolling his eyes and sighing.

"Fuck off.." She replies, pulling the blanket closer. Not in the mood to entertain him.

"Where is the nurse?" He asks, sitting across from her on the other treatment bed.

"Left to get me some ibuprofen." She replies, feeling more pain in her lower stomach. Unable to hold back a pained groan, she rests her head down again.

His eyes soften for a moment, but he tenses up when he hears the door open. A male nurse looks at him curiously as he walks into the room.

Still, the nurse prioritizes the sick y/n, helping her take the ibuprofen with a gentle hand on her back, accompanied by a glass of water.

Jude stares at the two, his eyes following the nurse’s movements like a hawk.

"Do you require treatment?" The nurse asks in Spanish, turning towards Jude when he sets the cup down.

He looks at the nurse like a deer in headlights, recognizing some words, but not enough to understand the entire sentence.

"He's asking if you need treatment." He hears y/n translate, her body slumped against the bed.

He nods immediately, showing off his arm. Dark red blood dribbling down to his elbow.

He watches the nurse’s eyes light up, getting the required equipment and bandaging his wound within a couple minutes.

"Gracias." He mutters, fidgeting with the bandage as the nurse cleans up the equipment.

He watches the nurse leave, his eyes darting back to y/n across from him.

Jude raises his eyebrows in interest as she turns around in the bed. Frown on her own face. The thin blanket not covering her body anymore.

An unusual concern for the girl starts brewing in his chest, he tries to shake it off. Look away, but he can't help but look again when he hears her shift again. Now, with her back turned towards him.

He stands up, walking towards her. His body moving on autopilot, his brain screaming at him for a clear reason why he should care about her or help her willingly.

Seeing her shiver slightly, Jude looks at the end of the bed, seeing the blanket jammed in between the mattress and bed frame. He glances at her one more time before grabbing the blanket, pulling it out from in between the bed and then quickly draping it over her body.

She doesn't react, drowsy enough to not notice. It making it the perfect moment for him to book it out of the room.

He almost has a heart attack when he crosses Luis, probably on his way to check up on his coworker in the medical room.

He sees Luis look at him for a second but avoids eye contact, continuing to just booking it into the changing room.

Why did he even do that?

His brain scrambles for a reason, all kinds of thoughts whirling in his mind, quickly chalking it up to having morals, the ones his parents taught him since he was a young boy.

You had to have morals, even when you mutually despised each other so much, right?

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #jude x reader #jude bellingham imagine #real madrid fc #jude bellingham fanfic #footballer x reader #football imagines #football fanfic #football imagine #bellingham x reader #real madrid

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giorno-plays-piano · 1 year

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The Lovers That Went Wrong

Pairing: psycho!Aemond Targaryen x reader

Warnings: soft!yandere, kidnapping, threats, non-consensual confinement, manipulation, allusion to noncon, hurt/comfort.

Words: 2.4k

Summary: You flinch involuntarily as you watch him open the door to your room and take a cautious step inside as if he's keeping a dangerous animal as a pet, not a whole other human being. His eyes light up at the sight of you immediately when he sees you at the very same spot where he left you in the morning, still chained, no signs of misbehaving like throwing things around and destroying the furniture. You're not the type.

P.S. Our reader is safe and sound, no physical harm whatsoever.

P.P.S. It's not me, it's those yandere ASMRs on Youtube!

_________

He's here.

You've heard the key turning in the lock. Then, one more key in one more lock. Finally, the third lock has been opened, and then he goes to unlatch the second door before you hear him step inside, carrying something.

Is he going to kill you today?

Trying not to move, you take a shaky breath, eyes on the door. He's going to come in any second, and you don't know how to act to keep him happy. Is there a way to keep someone like him content at all? He's... not normal, that's for sure. Even if you smile and pretend to be fine, chained to his bed with so little room to move left you can't even reach the door, you think he'll see right through it and become angry at you for lying.

Not that ignoring or, god, getting angry at him gonna work either. If anything, making him mad at you is probably the most stupid option you can choose. So you don't. Albeit you wouldn't have the courage for that even if it did change anything for the better.

"I'm home."

You flinch involuntarily as you watch him open the door to your room and take a cautious step inside as if he's keeping a dangerous animal as a pet, not a whole other human being. His eyes light up at the sight of you immediately when he sees you at the very same spot where he left you in the morning, still chained, no signs of misbehaving like throwing things around and destroying the furniture. You're not the type. You're the type to sit and shake in the corner and cry till you feel like your head will explode.

"Hello," you murmur quietly, showing neither anger nor happiness at his return. Keeping the most neutral expression at times when you feel like a rabbit in front of a snake is torture, but better this than having him turn psychotic again.

He smiles at you, exhaling loudly like he was worried you'd start messing things up in his absence. "I see you've been good. That's nice. Thank you."

Nodding, you make yourself eat your words about all anxiety and fear you've had to endure today just to stay sane and stop crying. Being good, huh? Does he have any idea what it feels like to be locked in an apartment of someone who threatened to kill your classmates if you didn't go with him? What it felt like when he had pulled out a knife out of his backpack with a manic gleam right in front of your face and said he needed you to come with him if you didn't want anyone hurt?

You still don't understand how everything happened out of the blue. Aemond... never seemed unstable. He was quiet, sure, and he didn't hang out with other classmates much, but neither did you. He often sat at the back of the classroom, listening to professors with a blank look on his face, and seemed to slack off, then somehow miraculously pass the exams. You've never seen him doing anything special like playing sports or taking part in any university activity. He was just a quiet loner who didn't seem to enjoy studying. At one point, you thought he would drop out or change his major, but he didn't. After more than 3 years, he was still there, at the back of the classroom, sitting with a blank expression as the professors preached about the importance of the thesis for your successfull graduation and future work life.

Then, one day, he just walked up to you after the last lesson had finished while you were gathering your stuff and asked you to stay behind for a short talk. He said he needed to tell you something important. Considering you had spoken maybe five words to him throughout the whole year, you had no clue what he wanted to say, but maybe he needed help or something? You have always been good at studying, so, perhaps, he just needed your advice on his thesis.

He didn't.

Instead, he confessed he liked you and that he was concerned you were going to date someone else from your class - he gave you names of several students you had never even hanged out with - and then he pulled a huge, sharp knife out of his backpack. When you panicked, he grabbed your hand and whispered with that crazed look on his face that he would go and stab your classmates hanging out in the hallway if you didn't go with him.

So you did. You let him take you away, shaking at the thought that he put a knife in the large sewn-in picket inside his heavy bomber, ready to take it the moment you went back on your promise. He was going to stab someone, wasn't he? Given his height and strength, he might have even murdered someone. All because you refused to go with him.

When you think of it now, you wonder what would have happened if you attracted the attention of someone's on the way. Would Aemond really stab them with a knife, given the psychotic state he was in? Would he put a knife through your stomach? Or was it just bluff, and he'd drop the knife and run away, never to bother you again?

You'll never know now. You were so concerned about someone getting hurt you ended up in the apartment of a psychopath with your leg chained to his bed. It seems surreal, like it's all one big prank that's been going for far too long.

"I'm sorry it took me so long," he says, placing a plastic bag with what smells like pasta or lasagna on a little table next to the door. "Work has been hectic, but I'm cutting down my hours to spend more time with you, so you don't have to worry."

You nod, trying not to tremble like a leaf. Spending more time with you? Great. He will kill you soon once he has enough. Don't this kind of guys always do that? They catch their prey, have fun, and then finish them off only to fixate on somebody else again.

That's what's going to happen to you.

"I'll go take a shower real quick, alright?" He asks as if your opinion actually matters, walking by the bed as you instantly move further away on the floor, your back bumping against the bed.

He pauses, turning to you fully as you bite down on your tongue not to let out a sound.

"What is it, baby?" He coos, getting down to you while you stare at your knees, afraid to lift your head and see him staring you in the face. "What happened?"

You flinch as he stretches his hand to you, and he has to pause for a second again before his palm gently lands on the top of your head. He doesn't beat you. Or, well, not yet. Despite him not hurting you within the two days you've been here, you expect him to get violent at one point. Psychos always are, right?

You mumble, worried you'll make him upset, "I'm sorry. It's nothing."

He sighs, to your horror, sitting down right in front of you. He smells like coffee and French fries, and you bite down on your lower lip, remembering he works at some café. Like other people, he has a life outside of this stuffy and yet nearly empty apartment, and in this moment, it seems so strange. That someone like him smells like another human being.

"Are you scared?" He asks in a hushed voice, careful and calm like some sort of therapist. "Is that it?"

Despite all your attempts, you feel like you will cry if he touches you again. Your throat is tight, and you can't speak, so you just nod again, head bowed so you can't see his face.

He sighs again, and you hear him shifting, crawling closer to you like a spider as you squeeze your eyes shut. Will he hit you? Rape you? Do something worse? It's only logical to suppose that. In the end, that's what they do in the movies, don't they? Since Aemond is clearly insane, that's what he'll do to you.

But then, when he sits next to you with his back pressed against the bed's leg, you feel his hands on your shoulder nudging you tenderly towards him, and you don't fight him when he makes you put your head on his chest. Today he wears a long, soft black hoodie that smells like fries, too. It's nice to the touch.

"It's alright," he whispers, making you lean onto him until you are nearly on top of him while he caresses your head. "I know it's sudden for you. You probably don't even know who I am, and then I just come and confess to you like that. It's unfair, I know. I'm sorry I couldn't wait a bit longer."

Yeah, as if it's the problem.

But you don't say anything, eyes closed, as you freeze against his hoodie.

"But, you know, it got so much better. Today a customer splashed me with coffee and sad some really hurtful things, and I didn't even care," you can nearly sense him greening before he drops a quick kiss to the top of your head. "Because I was thinking of you. Waiting for me home, sleeping in my bed, wearing my clothes. I don't remember when anyone last waited me home, you know? And now there's you."

You feel his breath on your skin before he leaves a chaste kiss on your brow, and you curl into yourself even more.

"Thank you for being here with me. I know it wasn't easy for you to trust me, but you still did." He exhales slowly, probably tired after the day in the university and at work, his other hand resting on your back, caressing you through the thick tissue of his dark green sweatshirt he gave you this morning. "Thank you."

You're glad he can't see your face because you are ready to cry any second now. You are scared, and your legs hurt from staying in this position for too long, but Aemond's touch is still comforting, and you yearn someone's body warmth just to ground yourself in this moment to keep you sane.

You are so, so tired. You don't want to die. You want to believe the things he said, the promises he made to you, but he's mad, and so are you if you really want to trust him.

Minutes fly by. You have no idea how much time you spend in his arms, but Aemond seems content, arms still wrapped around you. What is he thinking now? What does he want to do to you? He didn't force himself on you yesterday, but he can tonight. It's just a matter of time, really. And when he finds it's enough, what's gonna happen then?

"Please, don't kill me," you mutter quietly in his chest, eyes squeezed shut.

Your voice startles him awake. Apparently, he was almost lulled to sleep, and now he bends his head towards you again, taking your face in his palms to make you look at him. "What was that? Baby?"

It's torture to open your eyes when his face is inches away from yours, but you do, and then you cry. "Please, don't kill me."

The next second, he opens his pretty blue eyes wide as if you've just slapped him, discomfort clear on his pretty face. What? Is he unhappy you ruined his idyllic evening? Why does he look at you so distressed?

He puts some distance between you two, hands on your shoulders while he looks at you as you're sniffing, tears running down your face. You can't stand it. How long do you have to play his sweetheart before he cuts you in pieces and puts your remains in black plastic bags to dump somewhere deserted? Will he kill you quickly? Will he taunt you and mock you for not even looking at him at university? Will he try to prolong your suffering with drugs?

He shakes when he starts to speak, "I've never wanted to kill you. Never. Why would you think that?"

You let out a laugh at that, hands grasping his black hoodie you like so much. Why would you think a guy who threatened to kill your classmates wouldn't cut you in pieces, too? You have been chained to his bed for two days. It's nice to still be able to go to the bathroom, but that's about it. You have only a couple of books he brought for you to keep you company when he's gone, and god knows how long it's all going to last.

His grip on you gets tighter. "I swear I've never wanted to hurt you. Why did you think that? It's the knife thing yesterday, right? You got scared because I said I'm gonna cut Josh and Matteo." He gets more frantic, and you feel like you're struggling to breathe. "But I wouldn't do that to you. No! I swear. I've never wanted to make you feel bad. And the chain... I-I'm sorry about the chain and everything, but I wasn't going to keep you like this forever! It's... it's just for a couple of months, you know? So you get to know me better. I'm never going to hurt you! You're not my pet to discipline you or something. You're... "

He realizes the state he's in and makes himself stop, lips pressed tightly as he waits, regaining his composure as he's awkwardly trying to wipe away your tears with his sleeve.

Making some small soft noises, he sighs again, rubbing the back of his neck before he's ready to speak. God, why do you want to believe him so badly? Why would anything he say make any sense at all? Why are you hoping he really won't do anything when you have just been kidnapped and imprisoned in his home?

When he speaks again, his soothing voice makes you want to hide your face in his hoodie despite all the things he's done. "I really, really like you, baby. I know it's not much, but it's true. You never have to worry about getting hurt again as long as you're with me. It's a promise."

He coos at you, craddling you in his lap, and you have no strength left to do anything but lean closer to him and hide your face in his soft hoodie.

__________

Tags: @heavenly1927 @yazzzmints @devils-blackrose @lost-and-founds @kennafild @toodlesxcuddles @shygardengalaxy

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #yandere #ewan nation #hotd #house of the dragon #the house of the dragon

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the-kr8tor · 1 year

Text

Lace

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 4.7k

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), Cursing, CW spiders, TW Arachnophobia, TW violence, CW injury, angst, fluff.

My Navigation

Thread the Needle Masterlist

CHAPTER 6 >>> CHAPTER 7

Your pulse thumps loudly against your skin, swallowing a lump in your throat, you bravely make your way towards your friend. That word hangs loosely in the balance, you have no right to get mad at Hobie, he has no obligation towards your feelings whatsoever. Especially that you've never voiced how much you like him, no how much you came to love him.

You've never exactly pinpointed the time or event that made you love your best friend, but you know deep inside that you have. Whether it was platonic before or romantic after a few years of knowing him. You know that you've loved the same man for years. That's why it hurts so much that he's been ogling the unknown woman in his presence. Hands tucked inside the pockets of his leather jacket, he watches her through half lidded eyes, a smile curling around his lips.

The woman's giggle cuts you like a rusty knife, leaving you bleeding and doubting everything. Doubting all the soft touches and lingering gazes from Hobie all those years of hanging out with him. Maybe you are delusional, your lovesick brain making you think and imagine that a man like him could ever love you back.

You hate yourself for being jealous, the big green monster rearing its ugly head. Whispering and gnawing at your shattering heart. Trying to tamp down the ugly thing, cageing it inside your chest like a feral animal, you exhale a shaky breath. Eyes growing glassy at the sticky kiss she leaves on Hobie's cheek. The large Oscorp museum looms behind the stage, casting a large shadow on the couple, as if the building's hiding them from you, mockingly adding to your pain.

Weaving through the crowd, you catch the last bit of their conversation.

"I'll see you at the after party, right, Hobs?" Her voice is sweet yet it sounds like nails on a chalkboard when she calls him 'Hobs'.

"Sure, Lacey," his voice monotone, "go, we're almost on." Hobie nods at her.

'Lacey' winks at him, giving him a flirty smile, waving goodbye. Her long curls bouncing as she walks away.

Hobie notices someone staring, he cranes his neck, squinting, instantly grinning when he spots you. "Oi! There you are! You're late. Nice boots, are they new?"

You clear your throat, blinking away the tears threatening to spill over. "Yeah" walking closer to him, you give him enough space. Far enough for him to not be able to hold you.

Hobie notices your downturned gaze, "you okay–"

"You made it!" Yuri appears from behind, bounding towards you for a hug. "Look at our lucky charm! Lookin' pretty as always" she holds you at arms length. Giving her the best smile you could muster.

Ned and James join her side, "nice shoes!" Ned exclaims, bass strapped on his back.

"'ave you been cryin'?" James asks, concerned. He (unfortunately for you) noticed your glassy eyes.

"What?" You chuckle softly "No, I had to run here, the wind whipped at my face" trying to save face.

"You sure it's not allergies? Pollen count is at an all time high today" James adds, nodding.

"You learned that at your da's radio show?" Ned teases. James shoves him.

"I'm fine, it's nothing" you shrug, it's not nothing, your heart feels like it's been run over by a train.

"You sure you're okay?" Hobie finally chides in, closing in the distance you've put out. Intertwining your pinkies together.

To Hobie's dismay, you pull away a second later, "yeah, good luck. I'll be in the crowd" you give the band a double thumbs up, "you guys better win!" Trying to sound cheerful.

"Hell yeah, we will!" James pumps his fist in the air for added effect.

You walk away, trying to get in front of the stage for a better view of the show, pushing past the crowd, some seem to be too out of it to notice you. Spotting the familiar curls, you stop in the middle of the crowd that's packed together like sardines. Lacey laughs with her friends, hyping them up, drinks in hand, singing a familiar song.

The lights turn to a different color, red enveloping the stage. You feel like you're underwater, the loud noises muffled in your ears. You can barely hear the announcer introducing the band, eyes fixated towards Lacey, she throws a flying kiss towards the stage. You don't have to look at who the recipient was.

Guitar riffs ring out, Hobie's band starts playing their song, the crowd suddenly rushes in, trying to get to the front of the stage, trapping you. Bouncing around dancing bodies, you can't get out of the wild crowd, some noticing you trying to get out, they move and part for you. But some are way too into it to notice you.

"Excuse me, please! Fuck!" You yell out. A stray elbow hitting you right on your eye. The smacking sound rings in your ears, hand nursing the injury. A hand flings to your cheek, backhanding you. "Fuck!"

"Oi oi, stop! y/n!" Hobie's voice echoes around the venue, you deduce that he grabbed the mic from Ned. The band stops playing.

Half of the crowd doesn't stop, still jumping and bouncing around, guessing they've probably snuck in liquor. You ping pong around sweaty bodies, The only thing you could do was try to protect your head with your arms. Closing your eyes.

"Hoy! Fuckers! He said stop!" Lacey's voice screams out, trying to push past the mass. You can barely hear her through the blood rushing in your ears.

A strong yet familiar arm wraps around your shoulder, looking up you see Hobie arguing with a stranger.

"What the fuck! I said stop! Were you dropped on your head?!" He shoves the man away. Pointing at another trying to argue back. "Fuck off!" He lets go of you, shoving the other with force.

"Hey mate, if she can't handle it, maybe–" The man slurs his words, he couldn't finish his sentence, his face connecting with your knuckles. He should be glad that it wasn't Hobie's or else he would have his rings embedded in his jaw. The man keels over, sobering him up in an instant, groaning in pain.

Hobie looks at you in shock, you look at the men like you want to rip them apart.

Everything crushes you, the weight and pressure of your project, expectations from your family, your love for him. Every insecurity seeps out of your bones, drowning you in its disgusting waters.

You throw your anger at the first thing you see.

"You fucking wanker!" You seethe, your eyes darken, the strangers bear the brunt of your anger. "Stop means stop motherfucker!"

Hobie holds you back, if he doesn't you'll get kicked out of the event, "holy shit" your fist held up, ready to strike again.

You push him off, eye stinging in pain. Huffing, You give the men one last angry glare before stomping away from the crowd, too angry to care that you have an audience. Hobie follows closely behind, calling your name urgently.

"What?!" You turn sharply, the skin around your injured eye slowly turning into a darker color.

"Are you okay?" He asks, hands ghosting over your closed fists.

"Stop asking me if I'm okay, Hobart! Do I look like I'm fucking okay?!" You yell, frustrated, wincing at the pain in your socket. "Fuck!"

Your heart aches when you fight with him, moreso when you yell at Hobie. You're angry but not at Hobie, you're mad at yourself, mad that you've read his love for you as romantic, angry that you never told him how you feel. Furious at your jealousy.

One word stays in your mind, your own voice screaming it out like bloody murder: Coward.

"Love" he says softly, hands wrapping around your tightly closed fists, your nails digging into your palms leaving half moons on the soft skin. Hobie slowly unclenches your fists for you, fingers opening up yours. "You need ice over that, I'll bring you to the first aid station and–"

"You don't have to, just go. Get back on stage" you pull your hands away from him, clenching your hands into fists again.

"y/n, you might be concussed–" Hobie stares at you, concerned.

"Go" you sniff. "I'll go there myself" turning your back on him, Hobie watches you walk away.

—

The first aid station sits further away from the stage, the loud sounds can still be heard from where you're sitting inside the large tent. Cheers echoes out, prompting you to close your eyes at the booming sound.

The frozen ice pack melts in your hand, condensation dripping down on your arm. Your eye socket stings even with the pain meds the nurse gave you. Your head feels like it's trying to escape your skull. Sitting on the plastic chair, elbows propped on your thighs, biting the inside of your cheek when you hear your friends asking for you.

Scooching away from their line of sight, hiding behind a water cooler, you try to make yourself small. You groan when you hear the nurse tell them your location. Your anger has finally subsided, embarrassment replacing it.

Maybe you should've left when you had the chance.

Feet shuffle their way towards you, staying put, staring at the grey concrete, shoes fill your vision. Yuri breaks the silence.

"You've got a mean right hook, remind me to never piss you off"

You don't answer glaring at their shoelaces. The water from the ice pack drops on the concrete, painting it darker.

"Bloody hell, give her some room" Hobie arrives at your side, gesturing for them to give you space.

Hobie crouches down, leveling with your down turned stare. Grabbing the not so frozen ice pack from your hand carefully, avoiding touching your hand, in case you don't want to be touched. He stares at your black eye with concern.

"I made you all lose didn't I?" You stare up at your friends, avoiding Hobie's brown eyes.

"We got third place, I don't count that as a loss. It's better than we hoped for anyway" Ned looks at you apologetically.

"Right, not your fault." James adds. "Competition's hard, love"

"You're just saying that, if Hobie didn't interrupt by saving me, you would've won"

"If Hobie didn't jump in I would've jumped after you instead" Yuri chides in, pocketing her drumsticks.

"Me too" Ned says.

"Me three" James raises his hand, "Hobie just beat us to it" he shrugs.

"Still, I'm sorry," saying it softly. You don't miss the way they avoided asking you if you're okay.

"You're the one with the black eye" Hobie stands up, "can I talk to you?" He asks.

"We'll see you later, yeah?" Ned places a comforting hand on Hobie's shoulder. "As for you," Ned looks at you, "you've got my number, call me whenever or better yet visit me sometime"

You manage to crack a small smile, "I will" you stand up, giving him a hug, squeezing your friend. "Richmond's only an hour away" letting him go, you give him a sad smile.

"That's right, I'm only an hour away" Ned pats your shoulder.

Yuri steps in, holding both your hands, "and I'm just in Cambridge" she hugs you tightly, "don't be a stranger, yeah?"

"I'll come visit you whenever I can then" you squeeze her hands.

"You better" Yuri gives you her rare ten megawatt smile.

"Yuri and I will be classmates so you can visit me too if you want" James pats your back awkwardly.

"Fuck off, no we're not" Yuri scrunches her nose at James.

"We'll see you at the after party, Hobie?" Ned asks the unusually quiet man next to you.

The after party, where she will be waiting for Hobie. You try not to think about it, mentally chastising yourself.

"Nah, I have to get ready for her show."

"That's rescheduled actually, it's happening next week instead of tomorrow" you correct him. Hissing when your skin tugs at your eye.

"We'll be there then if you ever decide to pop in" Yuri informs Hobie.

"Alright, see you" Hobie waves them off. Sitting back down you watch them walk away with sad eyes.

"Can I have my ice pack back?" You groan when the pain pinches your eyelids.

"It's basically water, I'll get you a new one" He moves towards the nurse. You sit there, contemplating the past events.

The green monster peeks back out, shaking its cage, shackles straining against its leg. You try to move away from the image of her hands wrapped around Hobie's necklace that you've given him three birthdays ago, cherry red lipstick sticking to his cheek. The way he looked at her, the fucking pain in your eye. You start seething again, wanting to punch something.

You sigh, palms over your tired face, avoiding your injured eye.

"You al–" he stops himself, walking on eggshells. You don't want him doing that around you. "Here's your ice pack, the nurse said you don't have a concussion so I can take you home. Only if you want to" Hobie hands you the ice pack.

"This seems familiar, huh?" You wince at the cold hitting your skin, trying to cut the tension.

"What?"

"Can you fucking sit down for a second" you gesture towards a chair.

Hobie sighs, sitting down backwards on the chair, resting his chin over the plastic back of it, arms wrapping around it.

"When we first met? Remember that? It was almost exactly like this"

He lets out a breathy laugh, "Right, you threw that sketchbook at Terry. Yuri's right, you've got a dangerous arm"

"Should've gone into baseball, or volleyball at least" you avoid his stare. "We were sharing an ice pack, while we bad mouth Terrence" chuckling sadly at the memory. You don't regret meeting him that day, if you could do it all over again even after knowing what will happen, you would, without question.

"Will you fucking look at me" Hobie asks softly, you jump slightly at his angry tone. "Can you tell me what's eating you, is it the project?"

You wait a few seconds to bravely look at him, your face unreadable. "It's not the project"

"Is it really rescheduled, or you're just trying to get rid of me?" Hobie narrows his eyes at you. You can't read him, his expression flat, except for the slight scowl.

You shake your head, "Why the fuck am I trying to get rid of you? Mrs. Williams had a change of heart and gave us an extension, that's it!" The conversation escalates, frustrated at Hobie for implying that you're getting rid of him. You would never.

"Then why are you angry?" He doesn't raise his voice, he never does, and he won't ever start to.

"Because! I'm–" you hear a loud cough, the nurse glares at you two. Hobie notices, standing up.

"C'mon let's go inside" He stands up.

"Yeah, because arguing inside a museum is much better"

"You think those fucks care about a museum?" He points towards the concert with his thumb, "I looked inside, no one's in there. They're all going to the after party anyway"

Sighing, you want to go home, but knowing Hobie, he won't relent. You wouldn't dare to go to his place instead, not wanting to taint your future home with a fight. Your dorm is out of the question, it's almost midnight, your RA wouldn't let Hobie in. You don't want to run from this, even if it means lying to his face.

"Give me the bloody card" He asks for the favour card tucked inside your pocket.

"You're gonna use one on this?" You hand it to him.

"Yes" he pops one off, Hobie doesn't want to ruin his relationship with you, especially with him not knowing the cause of your anger. So he's willing to do anything to prevent that. The wind carries the logo somewhere.

You wish you're that piece of paper right now. Only seven to go.

—

Walking around the futuristic room, the walls white and pristine, covered in blue neon lights. It looks like you're in one of Ned's favourite sci-fi movie, you can't quite make out the title though. The entire place is silent, with only a handful of people walking around, the only sounds are from displays, machines whirring in the background, and noises made by the displays' speakers. They opened up the museum really late for the concert as a promotion even though most people only stayed for the show.

You stop in front of a display, a projection of some enhanced spider lifting something that's apparently fifty times heavier than its weight. Sitting down on a bench in front of the display, eyes glued to the presentation.

Hobie sits next to you, giving you space. He watches the projection's glow on the side of your face, making it look like there's a giant spider crawling on your skin.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you" you finally break the silence. "I shouldn't have done that, you were only trying to help," eyes still watching the educational video. Taking a deep breath, "Why do you think I'm trying to get rid of you?"

"It's nothing" he watches as the enhanced spider bites another spider, fighting with it.

"It's clearly nothing" you scoff, "that's the first thing you thought of when I told you that the show's rescheduled"

Hobie wishes he brought Terry with him, his leg bouncing, a nervous habit of his. "I'm holding you back." He confesses, wincing, regretting it almost immediately.

Your neck snaps to look at him, "You're not, why would you think that?" You sound angry, but your concern for him wins over. "Why?" Tentatively scooching over, you close the distance, cupping his hand in yours. "If anything I'm holding you back, you could've gone anywhere after you left school. Yet you stayed"

Hobie raises his brow at you, scoffing. At first you thought he'll pull away his hand, instead he drops his forehead on your shoulder, fitting right in. He feels the roughness of your denim jacket, squeezing your hand.

The projector's light envelopes you two in emerald green as it switches to a different scene.

"Why do you think I'm still here?" He finally answers after a few seconds. It felt like hours for you.

"Because I'm your best friend" you say softly.

"Best mates don't look at each other like we do" he gathers all his courage, tired of all the pushing and pulling, tired of being selfish, locking his feelings from you. Hobie cranes his neck up to look into your familiar eyes. The same eyes he's longed for. He's so close to you he could see himself in your glassy eyes.

Your heart beats a thousand times per second, Hobie cups your jaw, gaze falling on your slightly parted lips. You hold his wrist, thumb right on his hastening pulse, you cup his jaw with your free hand, hand soft against his slight stubble.

"Best mates don't touch each other like this," he continues.

Your eyes wander around his face, looking for any lies of what he's told you, flabbergasted at his confession. Your breath is seemingly stuck in your throat, heart stuttering when he slowly closes the gap between you.

You don't pull away.

You can feel him tugging at the loose thread, it feels like it's tightening around you instead of breaking you two apart at the seams. The dam has a sizable crack in its foundation, threatening to burst open.

Hobie leans towards your lips, now or never, he sees you flutter your eyes close, taking it as a sign to seal your lips with his. He feels a crawling sensation on his back, ignoring it, thinking it's his nerves acting up. His heart pounds like a drum, he can't back down now.

"Agh! Fuck!" Hobie suddenly screeches, hands flying towards his nape.

"What? What is it?!" You panic, turning him around, yelping when you see a bright spider latched on his neck. "Fuck!"

"What is it?!"

"Spider!" You try to fling it away using your sleeves, avoiding touching the arachnid.

"It fucking bit me!" Hobie slaps his neck in one swift movement, the spider lays dead, still latched on his skin. "Did I get it?"

"Yeah, let me just–" you take a handkerchief from your pocket, taking the spider away from his skin, "there, got it" showing the spider laying on your pink handkerchief. "Oh god it's red"

"You think it's venomous?"

You laugh wholeheartedly for the first time that night.

"I'm serious, I could die from this" Hobie pokes the spider.

Like it's comedic timing, the narrator from the educational video says, "it's not venomous but it is advised to seek professional help when bitten by the wolf spider, some people could be allergic to their bites–"

Staring at each other, "wow" you manage to say at the same time, you giggle nervously, having no idea how to proceed with how things are now.

"It doesn't look like the wolf spider, they're a different color" Hobie pokes the spider to look at its underbelly, "yeah, different one" he acts as if he's suddenly interested in arachnology.

You look at him with so much endearment, your eyes are practically shaped like hearts.

"What?" Hobie catches your staring, a smile playing on his lips.

"Nothin'" you taunt him with a cheeky smile. He rolls his eyes at you but his smile betrays him.

The intercom rings out, "The museum is now closed, sorry for the early closing" a nasally voice says. "There has been an incident in one of our displays, please leave the museum in an orderly fashion"

Hobie clears his throat, hand scratching at his nape, also not knowing what happens now. "I'll take you home," He stands up, offering you his hand.

"Okay" you feel giddy as you take his outstretched hand. It feels familiar yet oh so different now. You've finally got confirmation about his feelings towards you, no matter how vague it was. You two have all the time in the world to discuss it. You've waited this long, you can endure a few more days of tiptoeing around each other. Baby steps, you think.

Swinging your intertwined hands, you look up at him. "Do you think the incident that they're talking about is this spider?" You pat your jeans pocket where the covered spider is kept. "Like it came out of its enclosure or something?"

"They don't have live specimens here, probably not" he entertains your question, squeezing your hand.

You both leave the museum, hand in hand. Ignoring an alarm blaring from somewhere.

—

You hug Hobie's leather jacket tighter around you, the cold air biting at your cheeks, helping numb the pain in your eye. Hobie takes your helmet off for you, the simple action he's done a million times before makes your heart skip a beat. You watch him with curious eyes, waiting for something to happen between you. The large brick building that houses your dorm looms overhead.

You notice him sweating despite the cold, "How do you feel?" You ask, concerned.

"I feel fine" he takes your helmet back towards the compartment of his motorbike. "Why?"

You step over to him, your palm feeling his forehead for a sign of a fever. "You're sweating, it's like fifteen degrees, why are you sweating?" He leans into your touch, sighing a bit.

"It's because I'm bloody fit" Hobie smirks, winking at you playfully.

You roll your eyes, "what if you're actually allergic to that spider bite? We might need to get you to a hospital" pulling back your hand to your side.

"I'm fine, seriously. I have no idea why I'm sweating though" He wipes his moist forehead.

"Okay. I can come with, just to make sure you don't have a weird reaction to it"

"You'll come to the after party?"

"You're still going to that?" Why? She'll be there, you bite your tongue, jealousy gripping you again. He's not going because of that, right?

"Yeah, It'll probably be the last one with the band, I want to make the most of it"

"Okay, just be careful" you wrap your pinky around his, "ask the others for help if you suddenly feel sick, please?"

"I will. Go to bed, you're knackered. Get some ice on that once you wake up, yeah?"

You bravely stand on your tiptoes to reach his cheek, kissing his skin softly. It feels just right, like your lips were perfectly molded for his cheek. Hobie seems like he ran out of air, frozen into place. He has no idea where to put his hands, your waist seems to be a little suggestive, arms seems to be more on the friendly side, if he grabs the back of your neck, Hobie's afraid he might pull you in for a kiss, which you might not want right now. So he settles for your shoulder, it feels awkward still.

You pull away, seeing a very rare sight of a flustered Hobie. Almost giggling, you clamp down, not wanting to tease him more or he might start hiding this kind of face he's currently making. His pupils are blown out, mouth agape. He returns to his nonchalant expression when he notices you biting your lips to stifle your giggling.

Grabbing his hands in yours, you bat your lashes, "Drive carefully, please?"

Hobie pulls you in by your belt loop, hugging you, his chin rests on the crown of your head, long arms enveloping you. He pokes your scalp with his chin. Your laugh pierces through the dark.

"Yeah, yeah" Pulling away, he carefully grazes his forefinger over to your black eye. "Sorry, 'bout this"

"Not your fault. Thank you for jumping in to save me, even if I yelled at you after" you look at him apologetically. "I'm sorry, again"

He shakes his head, not knowing the exact words to reply to you. Rubbing your leather clad arms, he stops when he reaches your hands. "Keep this for tonight, you can bring it back to me tomorrow, yeah?" Hobie subtly asks you out.

You grin at him asking for you to come visit him the next day. "Mm-hmm, I was gonna visit you anyway. You're due for a fitting"

"Yeah? Finished our baby then?" An excited smile appears on his lips.

"Almost, I think you'll like it" You say smugly.

"You made it, it's a guarantee I'll like it"

—

You adjust the weight of your heavy bag on your shoulder, walking along the water towards Hobie's houseboat. Grinning at the familiar boat, you speed walk to the doors. Bouncing on the balls of your feet, excited to see Hobie again after last night, After his 'confession'.

Hugging his leather jacket around your torso, moving the bag slightly away, just to show him that you didn't forget to bring it with you.

Knocking, you call out to Hobie. "Hey, it's me!"

The boat rocks a bit to the side, tilting your head, curious at what might've caused its movement since the river is calm. Finn is right, you can't hear anything happening inside. The boat tilts again, you hold onto the wall for support.

You knock again, "Hobie! Are you okay in there?"

Hobie finally answers the door, it swings wildly, sweat dripping on his bare chest, still in his boxers, his wicks uncharacteristically standing in messy angles. Gripping the doorknob in an iron hold, his chest heaves up and down like he's run a marathon, or like he just–

Hobie seems like he can't properly construct a proper sentence, he blinks at you through watery eyes, licking his dry lips.

You were about to ask him if he's okay, you freeze in place, face falling when a female voice rings somewhere inside– "Hobs?"

You feel a hole caving in your heart, leaving a Hobie shaped chasm, eyes glistening in the morning sun, you don't even wait for his explanation. You just run, run as fast as your legs could take you. You have no idea where to go. Your heart is shattering with every step, you have no time to pick up the pieces, leaving it scattered in the wind.

You can hear Hobie yelling your name, ignoring his urgent calls, you sprint away.

A/N: Everything will make sense in the next chapter 😉 thank you for reading! Please consider reblogging if you enjoyed it, it encourages me to write more ❤️

*pictures above are from pinterest*

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needtoloveoutloud · 1 month

Text

Just... let people do with fictional characters what they want?

Idk if this is a hot take of mine or something but:

I just saw a TikTok that was like: OMG guys do you remember the dark times of the MHA fandom when the following things were a thing:

Chloe Takami

Bakugo Poster

DabiHawks Video

Dekubowl

"How do you feel about your ship with Eri?"

TodoBakuDeku

Todoroni and Cheese

"Somebody once told me it's your power, Todoroki"

Deku x All Might

Yagami Yato

Erin Clover

"Hey UA, Bakugo Katsuki is NOT a monster!"

"Todoroki is a real person!"

Angry pomeranian

Ship Wars

Todoroki gives birth series

"Kacchan, we were five"

Smol bean deku/Broccoli boy

"It's bigger than All Might's!"

Layla Todoroki

And, like ????

Okay, first of all, I have no idea what they mean with like half of that stuff, tbh - must have completely went past me

I don't know what DabiHawks video they're referring to, what/who Chloe Takami, Erin Clover, or Layla Todoroki is (I assume they are OCs?). I have no idea what "Todoroki and Cheese" is about or what "Somebody once told me it's your power, Todoroki" is about. Same with the "Kacchan, we were five." Or "It's bigger than All Might's".

The thing I definitely agree with that's crossing a line is when that one person, during a comic con panel, asked the VA of Midoriya what he thinks about "his" ship with Eri. That's involving a REAL person and made the Voice Actor very uncomfortable. That is not okay.

The Bakugo Poster incident is also... yeah, well, very unfortunate.

The thing about Todoroki being a real person was satire in my eyes? But I could be wrong about that lol

So first of all (I'm going on a little rant here, please excuse me):

If people make fun of other people's OCs, that's absolutely appalling. I get that OCs aren't for everybody, that's completely fine. But just let people do and write whatever they want? As long as it doesn't hurt you, literally: what's your problem? Don't like, don't read?! Simple as that. People put in a lot of time and effort for creating content with OCs and coming up with them and literally, they do it for FUN. To COPE. Or simply because they felt like it. What the hell does that have to do with you? Just, like, grow up and chill out?

About the ships: DabiHawks, Dekubowl, TodoBakuDeku, All Might, etc. - again: don't like, don't read?! I get that not every ship is for everyone, but nobody is forcing people to read stories? So, if you don't want to... just... don't? Just look at the tags, think "Oh, mhm yeah that's not my cup of tea" and move tf on? Find a story with a ship that you DO like and be happy people are sharing their thoughts, stories, fanart, content, etc. with you FOR FREE? I truly don't get it. The amount of fanfic authors that leave fandoms because they literally get bullied in the comments (and receive death threats, like ???) is scary. I swear, every other day someone in the AO3 subreddit feels so incredibly disheartened by the vile shit people comment on their stories simply because the commentor doesn't like the ships or think they're wrong? I get it when it makes people uncomfortable when it's a ship that involves, let's say teacher x student relationships or something. But then again: don't like, don't read. Move on with your life. Nobody has to like everything. Also, some stories literally exist to make people uncomfortable. To make them think. To help cope with something that might have happened to them (looking at the dub con/noncon tag here). I mean, has media literacy taken such a downfall in the past few years that people lack critical thinking skills? Some books solely exist for the purpose of giving you an icky feeling — take Lolita for example. It impacts your life in no way whatsoever, that stuff exists that you don't like if it does.not.hurt.you. IT IS FICTION ffs

Same with Yagami Yato. Don't like, don't listen, don't engage. Don't make fun of her/them or the people who like the stuff. Simple as that? Why do people have to shit on things that bring other people joy or a form of escapism? I truly don't get it.

"Hey UA, Bakugo Katsuki is NOT a monster." Okay, we get it. I get if you think that video kinda came out of nowhere (saw it for the first time a few months ago, so I was late to the party) but that creator just had some fun with a story and even created a fan video of it including their OC in the video. People bullying someone simply because they have fun doing something they deem as "cringe" is not okay, and I have no idea when people started thinking it was?

Just... in general. I don't get why people bully people about stuff that literally has NO IMPACT on their own lives. Especially if it's about a fictional story, with fictional characters, in a fictional setting? Just... have some fun, be creative, and have a good time? I can promise you, the people who make fun of others for things they deem "cringe" do plenty of shit others think is "cringe", too.

Sorry for the rant. It just really rubs me the wrong way if people make others feel like crap for things they like. Just let people be, maybe?

And all the comments on that tiktok agreed, too.

If you ask me, making people feel like shit, publicly shaming them, and bullying them out of fandoms (which are supposed to be safe and fun!) is actually what's real "cringe" here.

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cyxnidx · 8 months

Text

SCARE !

req.:

a/n: omg hihihi😭apologies if this took a while, i haven't been checking my inbox at all. but i adore this idea!! tysm ♡. original post here.

character pairing: pantalone x gn!reader

genre: kinda angsty fluff hehe.

two weeks.

thats how long you've been gone for a commission. longer than usual, but pantalone has known you for long enough to know you're fine.

however, your little girl hasn't quite yet gained that pleasure of conscious.

"daddy.." the small girl whines, curling up in a ball against her fathers chest again.

she's been crying and whining about you all evening.

and while it wasn't out of the ordinary for the little girl to know that yes, you'd leave for "work" occasionally, she always got to have contact with you.

whether you end up sending a letter, calling, or sending some sort of souvenir, she always got something to remind her of her other support system.

but the extended time you've been gone paired with no gifts or contact whatsoever is overwhelming for the poor thing.

"i know, dear." pantalone says solemnly. it's the only thing he can tell her, other than the constant affirmation that you're fine.

but, of course she wants proof. its a warrant she's worthy of. but he just can't provide that for her.

its breaking him, from the inside out.

the small girl gets out from her fathers hold, eyes watering as she stomps over to her play shoes at the door. "daddy.. daddy, let's.. go!" she whines, wiping her own tears as she slips them on, and pantalone feels the last bit of his heart rip.

"where are we going, dear?" he asks, humoring the little girl.

"to go.. to go find.." she gets choked up on her own words, struggling to finish her sentence.

and back to her roots, she's a sobbing mess once again. mumbling your name like it's the only word she knows, pantalone can only kiss her forehead and tell her it's alright.

and even now, he's wondering if it's alright.

he takes the girl back to the couch, rocking her until she eventually quiets down from the constant crying she's been doing.

for once, pantalone feels useful in a situation like this. he's a smart man - he can do a lot, he knows a lot. but calming his little one while you're gone with no contact is something that nothing could've prepared him for. no book, no lesson, no prophecy, nothing.

just as he's beginning to relax on the couch, he hears the door knob twist and push open, revealing the same figure he and his little girl has missed for so long.

by the tensing of his body, your girl wakes up, looking around, still upset. until she meets your eyes.

and there she goes. crying, sobbing, a mess as she runs toward you, scolding you while also telling you she's missed you for what seems like a decade.

you kiss her forehead. "i know, i know, i'm sorry." you apologize, walking her over to pantalone.

he wraps his arms around you, his hedonistic smile crossing his face, though how he feels at the moment is anything but. his eyes say it all:

he's hurt. hurt, worried, upset, scared, and confused.

he pulls your figure in tight, as if he's afraid that if he lets go, you'll trickle into dust. nothingness. his head rests on your shoulder, his breathing choppy. "please don't worry me like that again." he mumbles.

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spookiesmausoleum · 3 months

Text

𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐓𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 : 𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐌𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐄𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬

I've been listening to the album nonstop so I wanted to put together some starters based on Vessel's lyrical talent - it's going to be a long one. Feel free to mix and match and add context around the quotes! Please remember to specify muse for multis and change pronouns as needed.

𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃

"I come as a blade, a sacred guardian, so keep me sharp and test my worth in blood."

"I'd turn my walls to gold to bring you home again."

"We act out of our holy duty to be constantly awake."

"You've got me in a chokehold."

"Even if it hurts me, even if I can't sleep, show me the way."

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆

"I've got a river running right into you - I've got a blood trail, red in the blue."

"Something you say or something you do is a taste of the Divine."

"You've got my body, flesh and bone; the sky above, the Earth below."

"Raise me up again, take me past the edge - I want to see the other side."

"Oh, and my love, did I mistake you for a sign from God?"

"Are you really here to cut me off? Or maybe just to turn me on."

"'Cause these days I would be lying if I told you that I didn't wish that I could be your man."

𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐄

"You won't ever have to talk about it, you'll never wanna talk about it."

"You were more than just somebody I was destined to meet."

"Never mind the death threats, parting at the door; we'd rather be six feet under than be lonely."

"You only drink the water when you think it's holy."

"You gave me nothing whatsoever but a reason to leave."

"You say you want me, but you know I'm not what you need - But I am."

𝐀𝐐𝐔𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐈𝐀

"Well, my love is an animal call; cutting through the darkness, bouncing off the walls."

"These days I'm a circuit board: integrated hardware you cannot afford."

"Well, my past is a holy book - Between the pain and the way you look, I'm stuck in a time where the mountains shook."

"Oh and I am done dancing to alarm bells; no wonder my ears are still ringing."

"I am done fighting off change."

𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐄

"You have become the voice in my head."

"My life is torn, my bones, they bleed - My metaphors fall short in the end."

"Are you in pain like I am?"

"Will we remain stuck in the throat of Gods? Will the pain stop if we go deeper?"

"I want to go where nobody else will ever go."

"Follow me between the jaws of fate."

"I want to have you to myself for once."

𝐀𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐌

"I know what you want from me."

"You want someone to be your reflection, your bitter deception … Setting you free; so you'll take what you want and leave."

"Who made you like this?"

"Who encrypted your dark gospel in body language?"

"Tell me you guessed my future and it mapped onto your fantasy. Turn me into your mannequin and I'll turn you into my puppet queen."

"Won't you come and dance in the dark with me?"

"Show me what you are, I am desperate to know."

"Be the first to the feast, let's choke on the past."

"And I know what you want from me … You want the same as me."

"You make me wish I could disappear."

𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐎𝐊𝐀𝐘?

"I caught you reading by the sunrise; you wandered from the path through the silence of the hillside."

"Are you really okay?"

"I saw it in your eyes; cutting deeper than the scars could run."

"I want to help you but I don't know how."

"I cannot fix your wounds this time."

"I don't believe you when you tell me you are fine."

"Please don't hurt yourself again."

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

"Why are you never real?"

"I know that you will disappear just as I awake."

"Somewhere in the past, something was between you and I, my dear."

"No matter what I do this scar will never fade."

"I make the most of the turning tide."

"Don't wait, 'cause this could be the last time you turn up in the reveries of my mind."

"The shifting states you follow me through are unrevealed."

"Just let me go or take me with you."

𝐃𝐘𝐖𝐓𝐘𝐋𝐌

"Do you pull at the chains? Or do you push into constant aching?"

"Do you wish that you loved me?"

"Is there something you give that you will never receive in return?"

"Why are you trying to live like everything is a lesson to learn?"

"Can you ever forgive yourself?"

"I would turn into a stranger in an instant if I could."

"My reflection just won't smile back at me like I know it should."

"Maybe it's not that you conceal your feelings, it's just that they just don't exist"

"Do you ever believe that we can turn into different people?"

"Is it better to just not feel?"

"I've tried so hard to fix it all, but nothing seems to help, but I cannot hope to give you what I cannot give myself."

"Smile back at me, please."

𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍

"I almost became just a stoic statue, fit for nobody."

"The vicious cycle was over the moment you smiled at me."

"Just like the rain you cast the dust into nothing, and wash out the salt from my hands."

"Touch me again."

"Will you cleanse me with pleasure?"

"I'm coiled up like the venomous serpent."

"I'm tangled in your trance and I'm certain that you've got your hooks in me."

"I know that I am what I am; the mouth of the wolf, the eyes of the lamb."

"Maybe it's all just a game."

"When I open my eyes to the future I can hear you say my name."

"Rain down on me."

𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐎 𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐍

"I see you drifting past the fog, but no one told you where to go."

"We dive through crystal waters, perfect oceans, but no one told me not to breathe."

"My, my, those eyes like fire - I'm a winged insect, you're a funeral pyre."

"I'm a waking Hell and the Gods grow tired."

"Grow back your sharpest teeth, you know my desire."

"Take me back to Eden."

"I need you to see me for what I have become."

"we've no idea what we've got until we lose it. And no amount of love will keep it around if we don't choose it."

"I don't know what's got its teeth in me but I'm about to bite back in anger."

"No amount of self-sought fury will bring back the glory of innocence."

𝐄𝐔𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐃

"I've got a ghost in the hallway grinning and a heavy head that won't stop turning."

"Give me one last ride on a sunset sky lane."

"I can feel the walls around me closing in."

"I hope to God you don't know this feeling."

"Yet in reverse, you are all my symmetry; a parallel I would lay my life on."

"If your wings won't find you Heaven, I will bring it down like an ancient bygone."

"I need to leave this part of me behind."

"Do you still believe that nothing else matters?"

"For me: It's still the autumn leaves, these ancient canopies that we used to lay beneath."

"We tangle endlessly like lovers entwined."

"You will not be mine."

"The Night Belongs to You."

#rp meme #sentence starters #lyric starters #rp prompts

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rise-my-angel · 8 months

Text

Heart of the Great Wolf

33 - Blood, Roses and All Lies

Pairing: Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader, Robb Stark x F!Baratheon!Reader (Past)

Length: 16.1k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, past character death, mentions of rape, mental duress, disturbing imagery, descriptions of blood and gore

Notes: No, I'm fine, it's cool. Nothing at all is wrong, everything is fine. Don't look at me. Previous Chapter Here, Series Masterlist Here

As you had sat down, it was already suspected what the response was going to be. Some would be fine with it, others wouldn't be as happy and a spare few left would likely stand and argue over the matter in principal but there was no more room left for chance. Beside you, Jon stood tall as his voice projected in the vastness of the main hall. “Everyone aged ten and up will drill daily with spears, pikes, bow and arrow.”

A laughter waved across the hall as Lord Hornwood spoke up with an air of amusement in his tone looking to the men by him and over. “It's about time we taught these boys of summer how to fight.”

Biting your tongue, you held your expression as still as could be knowing the protest about to come, but Jon had the confidence in the decision to not waver. “Not just the boys. We can't defend the North if only half the population is fighting.”

Room falling quiet, many eyes found Lord Hornwood as he stood with a narrowed expression and judgment sitting upon his tone. “You except me to put a spear in my granddaughters hands?”

Considering the one who started you on your own path of weaponry stood beside you, it was easy for Jon to find a calm but collected response.

“I mean no offence, my Lord, but that was a command.” Many heads turned to either their King with pride, or Lord Hornwood with a question of doubt sat upon their eyes of what he would say. Jon however, was not finished. “I'm not asking you, any of you, to be comfortable with your wives, daughters, granddaughters learning how to fight. But this isn't a normal battle we are preparing for. If we fall, there will be no one left to protect them and these things will not care how young they are.”

More silence rippled through, and unnerved speculation fell upon the crowd. But Jon was at Hardhome, he had seen who the army of the dead rose up with and not for a second did how young any were make them not as dead as before. Or as blue eyes to terrify as every other. Children died that day the same as their mothers and fathers falling beside them.

Your voice was quieter then Jon's, but the silence of the room heard it all the same. “If your granddaughter knows nothing of how to fight, it will be far more difficult to expect her to know how to defend herself when the time comes.” Something sat at the edge of his mouth, but you stood up with a voice finding itself louder. “As a parent, you do everything in your power to protect your children. But there is a strong difference between protecting them, and coddling them. When they come, they will not pass by our daughters and granddaughters because we wish to keep them away from it.”

Raising an eyebrow, you knew that without looking despite the flatness of your voice and face a smirk found it's away onto Jon beside you. “Besides, I assure you my lords, your King is none to happy when I've been on the field of battle but he suffers through it all the same.”

Your eyes found Maege Mormont and she stood in agreement. “She's right. I lost one of my girls that night at The Twins, but I haven't let that stop me from making sure my four youngest can fight as well as my Dacey did until the end.”

The Frey's were only men, the Others were not. The death to follow when they come through these lands would be worse then the ones which killed so many already. Any who had no training whatsoever would stand not a second of a chance this time as Jon continued. “I'm not preparing our children for battle, I'm ensuring they know how to protect themselves. I'm not asking us to like it, but I am telling you, telling all of us, that this isn't about what we want anymore. It's about survival.”

Many waited to see if Lord Hornwood had any left to say against his King's word but sense seemed to find him more as the eyes turned to him in waiting judgment. None had noticed the figure slinking in the back of the room, short and unseen by most. Just as he begun to speak, “No one here is questioning-”

But the voice spoke up. Similar to you, it was on the air of quiet and soft spoken but as many turned to the voice they clearly felt the certainty in their words. “Your granddaughter does not need your permission to defend the North. My daughter is the fighter between her and her brother, and if they have no issue with it, neither should any of us.”

It took a moment as eyes watched for it to click, but it was easy for Jon. Catching a better glance at him as the crowd parted somewhat to make the man visible. Clothes made in tones of black and deep greens and the sigil etched into him of a black serpentine lizard. Judging by both age and wear in his eyes as the man found that of Jon's he knew right away who had stepped into his hall.

“Lord Howland, I've never had the pleasure.”

Howland Reed had looked up at Jon in silence for a moment. Something behind his eyes that had your lungs catch as if you recognized the hidden intent. But found little in your present mind to focus on it as such. He stepped between the standing crowd, pulling the hood down to properly address him. “I had not the courage to come before now, your grace. I ask to be given the chance to make amends for not stepping foot into the fight against the Boltons. Forgive my silence and allow me to serve you now when I had not your brother, our late King.”

It was quiet in the room as Jon had nothing but respect in his eyes. “You saved my fathers life during the Rebellion, without you many of us might not be standing here as we are today. You will always be welcome a place here, my lord. There's nothing to forgive.” Howland Reed nodded, as did Jon before the former took his time taking his leave to slink at the wall of the main hall and hide amongst the larger men as a shadow would.

Jon turning once more to the crowd, as you had not sat down as he hadn't. Finding a silence with sharp, narrowed eyes but listening as intently as all others. “While we're preparing for attack, we need to shore up our defences. The only thing standing between us and the army of the dead is the Wall, and the Wall hasn't been properly manned in centuries. The last we had seen them was at Hardhome, the closest fort to there is Eastwatch by the Sea. Now if they do breach the Wall, the first two castles in their path are Last Hearth and Karhold.”

Interrupting, a womans voice came from the back of the room, “The Karstarks betrayed the North.” A rumbling ran through the hall, and you spared a glance with Jon. Both of you sitting with unease at the riling up which easily could come through and a question on his at how deep did this issue run he did not know the details of. “Their Keep should be torn down with not a stone left standing.”

As voices begun to rile up, you glanced through the room, eyes finding Smalljon Umber, sitting himself quiet with something trying to breach his tongue. Your own voice spoke first, “The Karstarks did not betray the North. Rickard Karstark betrayed his King, that is a far cry from-”

Even as other voices spoke up, you were thankful this was not your first time acting as a speaking leader to a rowdy crowd of Northerners . But you did not quite grasp why it seemed Lady Barbery Dustin was so intent on vocalizing her disagreement when before she had not. “So there is no punishment for treason?”

Glancing to Jon, there was a darker tint in his eyes that did not reiterate whatever it was they were aiming towards as he addressed her. “The Karstarks have fought beside the Starks for centuries. They've kept faith generation after generation-”

“And then they broke faith.”

You didn't like that you couldn't place her tone. Something was frustrating that put the hall into silence as heads all turned to Jon, many you could see teetering on speaking up in defence of their King. But he was not a man who needed others to do that for him. Not now. His brows narrowed slightly as he once more let his voice speak loud and verging on losing his patience. “I'm not going to strip a family of their ancestral home because of the crimes of a few reckless sons.”

Baited breath all waited, the tint of anger seeping in Lady Barbrey's voice making your own eyes narrow. “So there's no reward for our loyalty, but the House you fought against with the Boltons receive nothing for their treason?” Something kept banging in your head, but you didn't know what and it had been a long time since you felt it for something not so urgently dire. You just couldn't place what the feeling was.

Not for a moment however, did Jon entertain this debate. Waiting for the whispering to settle before he addressed the room as a whole. “When I was Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, I executed men who betrayed me. I executed men who refused to follow orders. My father always said, the man who passes the sentence should swing the sword, and I have tried to live by those words.” His eyes found hers, and he too, couldn't place something standing out of her comments. “But I will not punish a son for his father's sins, and I will not take a family home away from a family it has belonged to for centuries. That is my decision. And my decision is final.”

But, it instead seemed, the question found its way to Smalljon Umber as he stood, “Your grace, if I may. I have been close with many of the Karstarks my whole life, and I do not disagree with your decision but there is one who has not come forth.”

Say it, you thought. Say what you had all been thinking since that day in Deepwood Motte. Tell Jon how his little brother ended up on the path to his burial in the crypts below.

“Ramsay Bolton spent much time trying to organize manners in which to get our Queen back in his captivity. And it was through those plans which he found Rickon Stark, knowing if one Stark could be found he assumed you would be willing to negotiate a trade.” Looking guilty, you knew it wasn't going to be easy admitting it. He and Harald had been close friends as long as you had known both men and whispers begun once more to flourish through the halls at his words, but he continued regardless. “Harald Karstark had held bad blood between him and our Queen for his fathers execution, and saw his vengeance fit as leading men to search out for Rickon Stark and bring him to Ramsay.”

Anger rippled through as the sight of Rickon falling to the ground played right before your eyes, and a burning in your veins at what you didn't do to stop it. In your chest the increase of your heart felt unkind. Jon's voice beside you was as tight and restrained as you could see in the clenching of his jaw as your eyes flickered to his tone. “Lord Glover put the same accusation forth, but if you have no more proof then we had then-”

The court went back and forth, but you couldn't hear. Or feel or see anything as something dark encroached your vision. The voice of one man screamed in the halls over the sounds of pouring rain that all boomed so loudly you almost flinched. “Kill me and be cursed. You are no King of mine.”

What were they saying around you? Your pounding heart cut every path to your lungs and it burned within you as you suffocated in the sounds of yelling and whispering all as voluminous as the other.

“If Rickard Karstark was alive, Rickon would be alive too.”

“If you stayed dead, his brothers wouldn't be.”

“They all know its your fault.”

“Jon blames you.”

“Ramsay's whore.”

Was anyone speaking anymore? Were you alone in the hall and yet not many noticed how white from strain your knuckles had turned as your palms braced against the wood. What was anyone even saying all voices felt as if they were fading away and the room dimmed from the afternoon to something dark and only just as you lifted your head to the room did you hear it.

The voice calling your name clearer then anyone and in the hall at the end was one you knew, and yet in your waking hour your understanding escaped you of who you had seen. You had no voice though, you found no way to call out to him as he was finally in front of you after so many years. But he walked carefully, an arm outstretched as he spoke almost upset and desperately. “I didn't mean for this, any of this, to happen this way. I was trying to help but now I don't know how to make it stop..”

You once more failed to open your mouth with words instead only blood spilled out. He came forward looking more and more upset and as he to stand in front of you? An arm reaching out to you like a boy desperate to fix things did the strings begin to play.

They played and they increased so loud you knew the both of you no longer could hear any including each other as they grew enough he had to cover his ears it was so painful. But then you heard one more voice behind you. “Afterall, my King is long overdue a wedding gift for he and his Queen.”

The boy tried grabbing you with both hands to pull you away but the stringed music was so loud you couldn't even hear him call your name until the music stopped and the hall was silent was you heard Catelyn yelling Robb's name in desperate warning.

A different set of hands grabbed you from behind to pull you back and the other reached around forward and just as the sharpness of the blade sunk deep into your stomach did you startle back to the world.

The cup in front of you had been knocked down in your startle as it clanked against the ground and the contents spilled across the table and dripping to the floor. Interrupting what was seemingly a display of commands from Jon as a few other men now stood in the clearing near the high table but all eyes looked at you.

The only pair of eyes that were not looking in worried fear, were in the very back from a now very curious Howland Reed.

By the time the meeting had dispensed, Jon instantly almost threw his hand down on one of yours against the table the second you made to move. Not a thought in your mind in that second but the list of things you were intending to do that day, but Jon squeezed it and it kept you in place, if not willingness of your own then by his strength alone.

You had almost missed half of the meeting, and part of you worried that it was a scolding coming your way, in what you knew was a strangely childish notion. Ser Davos made his way from the now depleting crowd towards the high table as Jon glanced at you with a raised eyebrow for a moment. An almost indiscernible slow blink that told him enough to decide to let your hand go. “Not common from what I've seen that one of your own people argue with you so freely.”

Giving the benefit of the doubt, Jon exhaled out the irritation to let it simmer. “Northerners don't tend to hold back how they feel. Can't blame her for that.” Still, not one of the three of you looked with any ease as if the strange scenario of the whole meeting sat amongst everyone still now.

Footsteps came approaching, directing the attention to Howland who gave a courteous bow as he approached. “If I could spare a moment of your time, your grace?” Jon nodded and Howland closed the gap stepping up the small stairs to the high table where you all stood with much less authority. “Your father was a friend who meant a lot to me, but I feel as if I've failed my duties to what remains of his family. I sent aid but did not join Robb Stark's war in the South, nor did I come to your aid in either battles you have lead since.”

Jon shook his head, tone deeper now as it fell in volume to a more normal softness. “One of my brothers from the Nights Watch met your two children, told me that they're part of the reason why Bran is still alive, still out there. They may not be here to thank, but I can thank you for sending them to help him.”

A fond smile on the mans face formed, thoughts of children he could sometimes barley understand and yet knew them better then a soul else. “Hardly my choice, your grace. I raised them to be too much like myself, made that choice all on their own once they knew what needed to be done.” Crossing his arms he inhaled, “My boy, Jojen, he was the one who realized it was your brother who needed help. He has the Sight. He can see things in his dreams, from the past and things that haven't happened yet.”

“Promise me, Ned.”

Ser Davos could see your unnerved silence, and decided he had not the patience for such mysteries, not after seeing what happened that night on the ship with you. His tone was short and verging on an irritation that didn't mean to be directed at anyone, but came off at the man anyways. “And how would he be able to do that?”

“I'm afraid I don't have all the answers for you. Jojen had the Sight, not myself. I only know what he told me and that is very little compared to the power behind this sort of thing.” You wanted to flee the room but you were glued down in your very feet rooted in place. “But whatever counsel I can offer to both of you, I am here to make available to you, should you wish to have it.”

Directing his attention back to Jon, you could only glance to Davos as you both felt more uneasy about what was being said on this day then either Northerners seemed to come off as. And it wasn't until you both made your leave, did either of you say word of it. “I'm not here to pass judgment, but the more people talk around you of magic and visions the more stress it's putting on your shoulders.”

Standing out in the breeze of the walkway overlooking the training yard, you both kept eyes on the men begin running through some very basics with the the young ones around. You voice distant as was the glaze over your eyes watching as if years ago looking back to yourself. At least this time you knew it was that of only a memory. “Everything always falls on Jon now, it seems only fair I take some of that burden for myself.”

Your forearms were leaning against the railing, hands clasped together as Davos moved to mimic the posture as to speak quiet to only you. “And he's far better at handling it then you.” Only a single nod was given in return, you had nothing to deny of that. “What was it they said about the Targaryeans? Every time ones born the gods flip a coin? Maybe we should check with Selyse, make sure your father's not secretly one of them, that's making you lose your mind.”

It was a joke, it was Davos making light of the worry to quell it in both of you for the conversation but it strangled you until you felt your heart pounding so hard you felt dizzy. Trying to utter out in jest, and failing at the tone, “Not sure that's how it works. You don't become mad, you're born that way and only time and power will bring it out eventually.”

He could sense something rigid in your posture that wasn't there before, but no idea what would be running through your mind to cause it. “Put a lot of thought into it, have you?”

Your eyes found Jon in the distance, and you felt that strangulation surround you and overwhelm your senses. Vines stemming from blue roses wrapping around each limb until it consumed you as they burned and pleaded of a promise.

“I grew up in the shadow of the Targaryeans. Difficult not to.”

It was in a moment alone did you finally reread it. Alone now up on the landing, you leaned down enough to grab something hidden in your boot, a long standing way you've kept papers from hidden eyes when you needed to keep it on you. Wolkan said the letter had come in while away on Dragonstone and he had only shown it to you, the contents being unusual as it was addressed to you specifically.

After learning what you had, you didn't want to risk anyone finding it out until you could ensure they were somewhere safe, enough had been done to them all at that point and so few of you left. But Jon would want to know why and for what you had to go there and you didn't want to risk that answer before you understood what was going on. Any hint of who was there in the wrong hands could mean the worst, and enough of that had happened already.

Writing in a crude style of code seemed to be a habit in that line of blood. You knew right away what was being said, however. Repeating something particular he once said. The day you and Eddard Stark had gone to the armoury of Tobho Mott, that was what the boy had said when asked if Stannis had questioned him at all.

“He never said a word. Just glared at me like I was some raper who done in for his daughter.”

You could only imagine how alone he was, for you to be the one he found a way to reach out too.

Met once and never forgotten that feeling as you looked him in the eye. Like you were looking at your twin. And now you knew two things for certain, he knew you were blood family and the only living one of Robert Baratheons bastards was Gendry.

You were glad he was alive, but you also felt somewhat ill that it wasn't Barra. She would have been what? Four years old? How horribly was she ripped away from that young girl who was her mother? All the years passed, and the young girl in Petyr Baelish's brothel likely still wouldn't even be the age you were when you met her. The brightness in her eyes as she looked at you cooing at what was your newborn cousin, asking if you agreed that she looked just like him.

And she did. Dark hair growing fast as Baratheon babies always did, bright green eyes and a look of mischief you knew was present as well in your blood. You desperately hoped the girl was doing alright. That she had gotten free of such a life and found love elsewhere that wouldn't be stricken by blood.

Knowing the kind of man Petyr Baelish was, you doubted it.

It was later Jon had startled you when he finally came across you in a moment of quiet. Very suddenly a warm presence at your back as two hands slid across before pulling you gently back against his standing position to your sitting one. “Do you know how to relax anymore?”

A hum left your throat, as a small half smirk formed on your face. “For your information, I have been scouring through letters looking for desperate marriage proposals.” A deep grunt barley made it out of Jon's chest before you huffed a laugh as the feeling of his hands increased in tightness. “I never said they were for me, my King.”

Glancing up and slightly behind you, Jon raised an eyebrow teetering on his own amusement before leaning more down to put his head more level to where yours was. Tone a deep rasp in your ear as one hand left your arm, “And I'd say no to them before I even got to their name.” Grabbing the raven scroll in your hand he mindlessly tossed it onto the table in front of you before turning you to look back at him enough he could press his lips to yours.

Soft and gentle they were, nothing but a coaxing for you to follow his lead as you relaxed into his touch with a sigh into his own mouth. A motion causing Jon to pull away only long enough to laugh a smile into his next kiss which was a little more innocent of a peck then the other. Yet just as you were to melt into him, your own hand reached up suddenly and grasped at his hand wandering towards sneaking into the top of your dress.

A chuckle left him deep as you pulled away with narrowed eyes as he pressed another kiss to the side of your head. Mumbling at him in playful disapproval, “How am I supposed to help run your kingdom when every time I get somewhere, you come along and distract me?”

Almost without even thinking, or without any effort much to your constant surprise. Jon all but yanked you up off the seat to take the place himself, pulling you back down onto his lap sideways with a yank at your dress. A small yelp leaving you as you steadying yourself with arms around his shoulders and back of his neck as you glared at him. Jon barley even reacted to your irritation. “I'm the one running this Kingdom.” A hand wrapped around your waist keeping you to him while the other gently begun to run through the hair loose at the side of you face. “You, are here to keep me from losing my mind, and to relax for once in your life.”

The same hand now danced along and begun raking through the hair at the back of your head, gently readjusting every time he came across a slight tangle to not jostle you as he did so. Your nails mindlessly scratched very lightly along his neck and what you could reach of his collarbone. “We both know one of those two things I am abysmal at.”

Grey eyes bright as he looked at you, Jon gave another half smile only a little softer to match the genuity behind the rest. “You're right. I can lose my mind just looking at you too long.” He laughed more freely the second you rolled your eyes, making your own cheeks warm at the sound. It felt like you so rarely got to hear him laugh anymore. There was rarely reason for it. Saying your name gently, he prompted you to look at him. “Everything you've been through, sometimes I think you forget that you've barley had a chance to breathe since getting away from them.”

He wasn't wrong. It hadn't even reached a year since you escaped that day with Theon, and yet it felt as if more then a lifetime had passed between you all. Many lifetimes had passed for you and Jon especially.

It was one thing after another and the only time in between them were a day or two before something else. Biting your tongue as your eyes narrowed lost away in thought, one of your hands instinctively reached up to run along the facial hair scratching at his jaw, while the other slipped right down and pressed over his heart.

Only months ago you had stepped into the Ice Cells of Castle Black and traced over the wounds in Jon's chest. Dead and cold long enough he had turned tints of blue creeping into his skin. If that was months, then the Twins felt like decades. “Hard to remember that sometimes.”

Quiet between you for a moment, you instead couldn't move past the thought. It lingered a second too long and now took up space in your consciousness that couldn't be ignored. Slowly and deliberately, you had begun the process of unlacing the shirt covering his chest. Shaking your head as he spoke your name in a question, to just let you work.

Not all the way, but you opened it enough that a hand could slip inside of the material and trace along his chest. Pulling back more naturally as you did so, you exposed the scars littered about. They looked truly just as gruesome as when they were hours fresh. You weren't sure you'd ever be able to look at them, and not feel as sick and horrified as you did the first time.

Your eyes far away as you traced them, narrowing in sharpness following the path of each and feeling how they both had not healed, but seemed to just exist outside of him. You could feel the skin around your wounds but not when one touched the scars itself, and you imagined it was the same as you did so now.

Only feeling your touch when your fingers jumped from one scar to the next and never when tracing their red path. Glancing up suddenly, you found the ones by his eye. One faint and white now as it sat at the top and bottom of his eye only visible if you were close enough. The other, sometimes it was easy to forget about. You had been used to seeing Jon with blood and scratches on him, but then there was this one.

Reaching up, you traced along it as your face could have come off as cold or angry to any who weren't the man in front of you. It still sat red. It was red and painful looking now but didn't heal since, long and curved along the side of his face by his other eye. That one wasn't healing either. You still had marks from an arrow lodged in your upper back and by your shoulder, even though at the time, you didn't even register it.

They hit you, but you barley comprehended it. You had barley comprehended your stomach, as you looked up at Robb before collapsing to the ground as you grew freezing cold in seconds.

“Why us?” Jon watched you closely, his quiet speaking the question for him. “Why only us that came back? No one else came back, that woman was trying to do some ritual to accomplish it..but we..no one did anything for us. We just..woke up..” Your hand still sat on the scar beside his eye, voice far and lost. “I didn't understand it then, and I still don't.”

Grabbing your hand for himself, Jon pressed his lips to your palm before holding it over the mark right on his heart. “Maybe we're not meant to.” Your eyes dropped, but Jon moved the arm around your waist back so he could tilt your chin back up gently to look at him. “Everyone wants to be special, or look to someone else like their special. But you and I both know coming back like this doesn't feel like that. I'm tired and walking around worried I came back so angry I'm going to lose it one day, you came back and think that you're the one everyone wants to lose it on. Coming back didn't make you and me some chosen ones, it just brought us back different.”

Your free hand continued it's path, tracing gently along his jaw and thumb brushing briefly over his bottom lip before you relented. Leaning forward to press your lips to his, leaving but a light peck that lingered as your held hands over his heart tightened together but did not leave one another. Resting your forehead against his you ran that hand along his jaw once more. “Says the one who can warg into his own direwolf.”

“That's not exclusive to me.” A small grin on his face as you almost shook your head at him.

Both of you sat in the quiet for a little while, nothing but the crackling of fire to accompany you until you spoke up once more. The dry tone returning to your voice. “By the way, your grace, you in fact did get a proposal of marriage.”

The swiftness in which Jon pretended to find interest had you drop your expression so flat it made him laugh quite a lot. Standing up from him, you pulled your dress from his attempted grasp to yank you back to him, with a childish glare. “If you're so interested, my King, go right ahead. Shame you won't have much time though, your new betrothed is rather old in her years. Bearing children might be something of a challenge, I'm afraid.”

If he had expected someone to know something of that secret, Howland Reed certainly did not think it would be the Queen in the North. Accosting him in his quarters the evening after he arrived in Winterfell for the first time in decades. But the moment you had knocked on his door, you all but barged in and locked the door behind you. Walking in towards the fireplace before turning to him as your hands braced on the wooden table in front of it.

Looking up at him as he tried to speak, you chose first. “You saved Lord Stark's life during the rebellion. Why?” Howland looked taken back for a moment when you repeated yourself but with much more sternness behind. “Why save his life? Why were you fighting to the death in the first place that day?”

Squinting in curiosity at you, he certainly played it safe. “I'd expect you know the story as well as any, we had gone there to rescue his sister, and the Kingsguard keeping her there did not take kindly to us accomplishing that.”

Once more you asked why, your eyes dark and your nerves racing like fire in your blood. “Rhaegar Targaryean took her there at the start of the rebellion, but by the time you had reached it? He was dead, the Mad King was dead. There was no one left to follow. Why fight to your death to keep an already dying teenage girl locked in a tower she can't escape from?”

Walking up to the other side of the table, Howland rested his hands more calmly at the top of the chair across you. His voice low but collected. “Kingsguard uphold their vows to a fault, even when it goes against protecting the innocent. He ordered them to keep her there, and they were going to follow it.”

The room was painfully silent before you shook your head. “She was dying, she couldn't run, she couldn't escape, there was no way to save her by then why not just let her brother come through and see her one last time? Why keep them away when the ones who gave them that order are dead, and it wouldn't make a difference to let him in the room to see his dying little sister?”

There was a pause in the man's eyes that you didn't miss for a second. It was a painful subject, you suspected few had ever asked in an aggressive manner as such before. Not to him at the least.

“If I could tell you why they would not allow it, I would. But I can't-”

“Can't you?” Standing up with an inhale you paced mindlessly deeper in the room before spinning to face him, arms crossing in front of you. “Lyanna was dying, you all would have found out eventually, it doesn't make sense to act as if they could hide that forever.” Your eyes found his, and he didn't move an inch. “Unless Lyanna wasn't the one in that tower they were trying to hide.”

The tension could be cut thick, it was brutal as both parties gave nothing away in their expressions almost in expert. “How did you-”

“I dreamt it.” You knew to a man like him, he'd take that without explanation but it sounded so silly as it came from your mouth you instantly stepped forward to justify it in ramblings. “I saw something in my dreams, more than once I saw it and it all kept leading me to that day and I never quite could figure it out until..” Sighing out, you leaned against the table with your back turned against it.

Your voice was hardly a whisper. Looking over to Howland he stood in stillness watching with any breathe hardly passing through him. “Everyone used to say Arya looked like Lyanna, but in truth she just looked enough like Ned that being a girl made the connection in their minds. But that also means if Ned looked enough like Lyanna that his own daughter was similar in appearance to her..then he would have an easy time passing off Lyanna's son as his own, wouldn't he?”

Once more he didn't speak, and you knew he wouldn't until you stripped this secret down to it's raw truth no matter how much you hated it. So you looked right at Howland Reed, giving him one more chance. “Who is Jon's father?”

His only response was but a whisper, “Ned was the man who raised him, who loved him. That's the father that matters.”

But it made you upset. It wasn't just about that, it wasn't a doubt of love. It was about a truth that had plagued Jon his entire life that was the core of so much of what happened. Turning to him, you spoke just as quiet. “Jon's wanted to know who his mother was his whole life. He's never felt without a father, he knows he had a father who loved him. But he deserves to know who his mother was.” Stepping closer your voice dropped more. “I know she begged him to promise to keep him safe, but look around. What of his life would put him at such risk anymore if he knows? It'll hurt, but it's always hurt him not knowing.”

Howland was dreadfully serious, “Ned kept that secret for almost twenty five years and he died with it. I've kept it now almost thirty, we did it to protect him. What happens if people knew? We could have done anything. Do what was done with the Mad Kings youngest, ship him off to Essos. Hid him somewhere in the realm with a no one family where he'd never find out, have him raised somewhere in the North away from Catelyn and her children but he didn't.” His whisper was angry as it was upset in your eyes. “He took that child in and raised him as his own son, because he loved him as his own son. With him, Ned knew without a doubt he could be safe.”

It choked in your throat, turning away as you ran a hand over your mouth to force it back down before you spoke. A sick memory coming back up and it felt dizzying to know. It was never just about right or wrong, it wasn't just about honour.

“You'll dishonour yourself forever if you do this.”

You almost didn't say it but it came out of its own accord. “Robert would have killed him.”

Looking to Howland, he stepped closer much less defence in his posture as you both ended up sitting down at the table to steady you on your uneasy feet now. “She was dying, covered in blood gods know how they had so little care that they left her there like that. He was no more then a week old when we got there, so she had to spend a week with her newborn son. Knowing the whole time she was going to die, and not knowing until that final day what would happen to him when she did.” It choked in Howland's voice too, a long time likely since he thought of what happened in that room.

Finding his eyes you recounted that day in the small council chamber, what the news was, what Roberts reaction was and Ned's too. “Gods it was never about honour, it wasn't about what was right. He stood there listening to his closest friend prove that even now if he found out the truth, it wouldn't make a difference.”

“Why do you think he let him join the Night's Watch?” You looked away from him, something choking in your throat. “His family was about to be deeply intertwined with the royal family again, and letting him go to the wall meant he was as far from anyone who would know or find out as could be. He was doing what he thought was best to protect him. That's what he always tried to do, he loved that boy until his last day I can promise you that.”

It was quiet in the room, and what you said next broke that as if your whisper was a shout. “I'm going to tell him.” Standing up, Howland followed coming to your side instantly in protest but you shook your head. “He needs to know-”

“We've kept this secret for decades to protect him, what was this all for if we just-”

Your voice however, wavered in more shattering upset rather then the anger you wished it sounded as instead. “Jon deserves to know the truth. He deserves to know he had a mother who loved him, and he deserves to know why she isn't here.”

Trying to move in your path, Howland kept you from reaching the door. “Twenty five years Ned let people think he was unfaithful to his wife to keep this a secret, let Jon be raised thinking he was the one who caused that smear on his honour.” Trying to keep you at arms bay, “Ned Stark did not do this to spend all of it in vain-”

But you shook from his grasp in an anger. It wasn't about them anymore, any of them. “This may have been Ned's secret, but it's Jons life.”

You hadn't been in the crypts since burying Rickon. You hadn't really been in Winterfell long enough to spend much time of any in here since that night. But you knew the path without any effort into figuring it out, or even paying attention.

Which you couldn't do, not now. Walking down here close to the ground where beneath the castle floors laid hot springs which kept the halls as warm as could be in the winter. You could feel your heart racing and your head filled with a lightness that made you dizzy but you had no choice now. It wasn't about you.

It was cruelly fitting, that Jon was down in the crypts to see his father as you walked to him. The truth was going to be all around him with no one but you to force it onto him and you hated it. You wished you could let Jon be ignorant and happier for it, but he deserved better then that. Everything he has been through, you wanted him to have the truth of his life.

But as you approached, Jon turned to the sound of your footsteps. Your name gentle on his lips and it carved a horrible agony in your lungs that stole your remaining breathe. Coming up to him, you paused as you took one last look before you ruined it. Again.

Hair still pulled back from the day, and not quite kicking the habit of his once position, the leathers and fabrics on him were sparser then before but dipped in black. A Snow, a Northerner more then any you'd ever met, and that was who he was inside, but you had to say it anyways. It was the right thing to do, but it didn't feel it.

You didn't notice you hadn't said anything until Jon gently cupped the sides of your cheeks, tilting you up to look at him, grey eyes bright and soft that made you want to cry to shatter them. His voice was a gentle rasp as he leaned down to you more, “Darling, talk to me. What happened?”

Looking up at him, you could only think in retrospective, that maybe you should have stolen one last kiss. You were already forgetting what it felt like in the days since. Sitting at a table inside of a tavern in Barrowton, looking across to Gendry certainly felt like another lifetime away from that night in the crypt however.

Tilting your head in question, you drew the sound of the letters out. “Satin?” Narrowing at you back you opened your mouth slightly to guide him into mouthing the fake name you had so he could say it out loud in the ruse. Keep it up as long as you two were in public at least.

“Mya? Would say I almost didn't recognize you, but think we both know that's a lie.” Pointing down at Olly he asked, “Whose this?” A suspicion on his face that you easily dismissed with a wave of your hand in his direction.

Your tone trying much more to fall into something a little less proper, a little less practised in formality then your father taught you for in public again. “Let's call him my ward. Ward this is Satin, Satin this is my ward, Olly.”

Leaning with a narrowed whisper, the boy asked why you got a fake name but he didn't, but it was Gendry who answered for you as he sat down. “Beacuse your a kid, and no one cares about the name of some kid in the middle of the North.”

Looking at you, and you back, there was a strange moment between you, where you two almost laughed simultaneously. Choosing instead to lean your arms against the table, “So, I heard my father tried to kill you. Glad we have something in common.”

Olly watched the tense silence, before watching in even more confusion as it was that which made the pair of you give a disbelieving laugh. A ridiculous set of events and ruin brought you here finally, but you at least knew one thing so far.

Gendry thankfully seemed to have inherited Robert Baratheon's ability to laugh in the most bizarre or uncomfortable situations. Ordering something for him to eat, you had a feeling the three of you were going to have a long night ahead.

Perhaps it should have been weirder, how easy it was to talk to him. But also, in a way it wasn't totally dissimilar to the way in which you got along with Renly. An easier going personality without as much smugness that made you want to slap your uncle sometimes, that was a major difference in a positive way. It was clear Gendry wasn't looking at things in terms of the life he could've had but rather the one he always did anyways.

“Nothing left for me in Kings Landing, tried figuring out where to go. Spent some time on and off ships anyways since, finding work, failing to find work. Not much out there.” Leaning forward, your gloves taken off as you had tried to find yourself more settled as you had asked him about how he even got this far North in the first place.

Glancing up, noting it getting at least somewhat darker out in the back of your head. “How bad are we talking?” Your mind trying to stretch all the way to the Riverlands and knowing you were simply without reach and even if you could who was left there to care who you used to be.

Shrugging, “Kept away from it mostly.” Biting your tongue you glanced a few times to the night sky out trying to keep the thoughts back again as he continued. “Anywhere that isn't at war is just poor and hungry. Think up here is the only place anyone has anything even sort of together.”

Arm crossing over the table, you narrowed your eyes at a spot of nothing in thought. “Wasn't easy getting here, only have barley begun even..” Looking up, it was as if both knew a conversation to happen but not here in the public view. “It's rather late, especially for this one.” Olly protesting as you nudged him as if a young child.

“If you've got nowhere planned to say, I have a spare room.” Gutting his chin outside to an Inn nearby explaining, “As long as I do the lady there free work, she lets me keep a room. Knowing how to smash metal with a hammer comes in handy anywhere turns out.”

The night was far cooler then when you had entered. The sky black and stars shining above as if none of the world turmoiled below them. Wrapping your cloak around you more tightly, and without a second of your own notice forcing Olly to do the same as if fussing over him. The air showing your breathe with every step. “How in seven hells do you get used to this?”

Glancing to you specifically, you shrugged. “Spent half my life here, either you get used to the cold or you complain and everyone is annoyed for it.” That glare wasn't meaningful but you didn't pass by how easily he looked at you in a familiar bantering as if you hadn't met more then just once over four years ago.

Teeth almost shaking as he walked, “Well I'm not used to it. So you best get used to me complaining about it.”

As Gendry made his way to the Inn front, you paused as you stepped right before the doors threshold, a strange feeling making something in your spine crawl up and leave a tingling behind. People were walking and passing but nothing that stood out and yet you watched anyways. As if sensing eyes on you, but there was nothing in your sights, and you walked in regardless.

“You're being silly.”

An almost indignant tone came over Sam as he looked at Gilly with a look he hoped was serious. “I am not, I think we have good reason to be careful. What we have?”

Giving him a doubtful look, Gilly turned to Little Sam who was now actively taking things from her own bowl of stew and putting it in his mouth. It had been a long trip, and just getting to the North itself had taken its tole on the small boy. “Who are the maesters going to send? Or know where we are?” Trying to feed her son now instead of letting him run rampant, she then gave Sam a look. “You should eat too.”

Grimacing, the sheer idea of it now made him unwell. The journey to Oldtown the first time was no pleasant experience, but this time it was a smaller ship on even rockier waters. The moment they sailed up the smaller rivers to where they were to stop in Barrowton, Sam had to all but put the texts he took with him on the other side of their small room he was so sure he was going to throw up on them.

Now they sat with their small amount of things at his side, or would stay in their room as long as they were here. The small set of tables sat on the bottom floor of the Inn, not many were around as the night grew colder and people settled in. Not that cold bothered them the same way, not where they met.

“If I eat now, I'll be getting up in three minutes to bring it back out as soon as it hits my stomach.” He glanced with a playful glare at Little Sam, who when catching the look playfully gave one back. “I wish I was as good as you are, napping whenever we set sail. Would save myself a lot of trouble.”

For the most part they ignored everyone else, they weren't staying here long. Enough to rest, and make a plan to get to Winterfell easy as possible. It was weird to think about, Sam had never seen it before and never thought he'd have reason too. But now, he was heading there not just for one person he knew, but to request an audience.

Glancing back to Gilly, Sam leaned in a bit as if keeping a secret, when in truth everyone around him obviously was entirely aware of who Jon was. “Hard to imagine that he's King of this, all of this. How do we even think that happened? He turned down King Stannis's offer of being Lord of Winterfell, turned down being made a Stark but now he's King in the North. You think he wears a crown?”

Little Sam laughed, trying to get out half decent sentences in his young age and on top of being just tired enough to not swallow his food before doing so. “He'd look funny,”

Gilly turned him more to face her with a grin, “Do you even remember what he looks like?” Her hands poking at her son playfully. The small little family sat there, minding their own when the front door opened to let the cold wind blow in. Just enough that mists of snow flickered about the floor.

Two dark haired figures walked in, one looking more at an ease while the other had sharp eyes looking around with a more stern expression which matched the cold outside. A shorter, younger one came in close to the woman, but instinctively Sam drew his attention elsewhere. But, just as fast as Sam glanced away, he looked back suddenly with his own sharper gaze. But the third person he had looked back for now was turned with his back to them and a thick cloak covering most of him.

Gilly had to call his name twice before Sam looked back to her, as she asked what was he looking at. But Sam watched the now empty staircase as they disappeared down the hall, eyes blinking heavily as he shook them out. “Been at sea too long. Think we could all do with some sleep.”

Too many nights with his head overboard, and Sam was already starting to see things.

“He seems attached to you.” Glancing to the now closed door where Olly slept, both you and Gendry shared a more sullen glance. “Just something I've noticed in the whole two hours I've known you.”

Shrugging, you turned from the sight with more down trodden of a tone then before only hinted with a tinge of amusement. “If we include the first time we met, we can make it a whole two hours and three minutes.” The chuckle shared was genuine from him, not from you and he easily picked that up. A long beat passed before you turned the mood down significantly, a weight heard in your throat. “I almost don't want to ask how you found out the truth.”

It shifted in him as well, something more serious and uncomfortable to think on. “Where do I even start? Where I left Kings Landing the first time, or when the red woman showed up.” Your eyes flew over to him with a dark tint as your jaw clenched, and you felt that sinking inside you. “I ended up in the Riverlands, was with the Brotherhood Without Banners and they told me I could stay on with them, serve Lord-”

Interrupting him, a hand waving out as your face twisted in confusion. “Maybe we should begin where I had last actually seen you, because I feel as if I've missed a few key details.”

It was simple, explaining how his master got sick of him, sold him to the Nights Watch and left him on the Kingsroad. That was until he mentioned the Gold Cloaks. “They showed up, came looking for a bastard named Gendry. Yoren threatened them, told them to piss off and they left. Until more came in the middle of the night a while later..killed a bunch of people and took the rest of us hostage to Harrenhal.”

Everything as Lord Tywin Lannister showed up, and you felt a sickness in your blood trying not to think of that night. Explaining that they had escaped when you once more interrupted. Asking when this all had happened. Trying to estimate a time, you had begun doing your own thoughts in your head and you not in any way liked the implications that you came close too. By the time Tywin had left, they escaped soon after and you realized how close you had missed him by.

Were you already on the road to Harrenhal when this happened? How close to Edmure's attack did they come? “I don't know how she did it, but Arya managed to get this Jaqen fellow to help us-”

“Arya?” If your blood cooled before it ran fast and dizzying now.

Nodding, he seemed to think perhaps you knew but judging by the slightly agape of your mouth and wide eyes in disbelief, he realized that no, maybe it made sense you didn't know about this. “Yoren was taking her to Winterfell, disguised as a boy, or trying to at least. Convinced this guy Jaqen to help us and we escaped, ended up running into the Brotherhood and in turn ran into The Hound.”

Your arms came up to the table between you, resting your forehead in your palm as your elbow sat perched. The world spun too much then and now, too much here and there and names you never thought you'd hear of again. The last you had seen Arya was the morning you were arrested, she had been upset she was leaving, but still otherwise was just a girl. But this tale Gendry spun wasn't one that would have let her stay that way.

No one had heard from her, and every mention from the capitol didn't include her and you, Robb, and Catelyn all didn't like to talk about what you felt that implied. Most seemed to presume her dead, and you had none the reason to think otherwise, and yet you sat with a pull at your heart that she had been so close.

She was so close to her family, Robb came so close to getting to her and now it was all for nothing again. “Anyways, the red woman showed up, and they sold me to her. Dragged me off in a cage and I never saw Arya again. Don't know where she is, or if she's still alive. All I know is how mad she was when the woman came and took me. Not that things went well after that either.”

You two were there for a while, a back and forth of what happened, what the red woman did and what your father almost let her do until Ser Davos was the only one who did the right thing. It was nothing short of a miracle Gendry would even want to try and find you after all of that. The quiet burned around you both, and there was little left in either of you to say.

You lacking the ability to have words you knew to say, and Gendry used up the remains of ones he had all spoken. Nothing meaningful at least. “Said something about how there's power in our blood, whatever that means.”

It burned under your dress, the scar. There was something in your blood, blood from Kings as you sat alive with a wound so fatal you faded in but minutes. But how would you even tell him that? Tell anyone that. No one understood, no one but one, and you had no idea if he even still cared. Or you were just too much of a coward to want to know.

“So what now?” Gendry meeting your eyes, finding a purposely colder and stiff look giving little away in your own. “You're in the North, what do you do now? Stay here or what?”

Shrugging, he leaned back in his seat. Glancing to the window shining bright before speaking with a casualness you wished you had ever possessed. “Don't know. Most of my life I've just been dragged from one thing to another. Never really had much choice all on my own before now. Think I'm just trying to enjoy what that feels like for the first time.” You nodded absentmindedly before he gestured to you. “What about you? Queen in the North all the way out here pretending to be some commoner like me, what's your plan?”

Nothing of how you were here was like you, but what else did you know anymore? Who were you but a liar, and liars don't get to have detailed life plans as you had done so before. You had no answer, and it seemed he filled in the blanks for you.

“Maybe you could try being me for once. Just do whatever comes your way until something else drags you away from that. Not very Queen like but it's not like you care about looking like one.” Your eyes narrowed in a playful glare tinged with an exhaustion as he chuckled to himself. “Came all this way to meet me, we might as well stay here a bit and find out if we hate each other or not.”

You almost laughed, and he at least caught the intent in your eye. “Won't take long I imagine. Not like my side of this family is known for our charm.” Your eyebrows raised in a passive amusement as his brightened with more of a nodding grin. “Though, I can't say Robert was exactly the perfect image of an admirable man.”

As you stood up, Gendry followed with a question of his own. “Is that meant to be mocking me?”

You shrugged one shoulder, “Do you drink a lot?” He shook his head no, “Spend a lot of time with whores?” The shake of his head that time was a fervent no. Waving a hand in the air before letting it drop to your side, you relented. “Already have two things more going for you then Robert did.”

It was quiet again for a bit, at least until like children you found things both to be petty about. Gendry it seemed, wasted no time in finding ways to make fun of you for with your title. “I would be humbled for the Queen to take my only remaining bed. Sleeping on the floor would do me a great honour.”

Throwing a small pillow at him, which he caught with ease, you shook your head as you passed him by, moving towards the main room away from both chambers. “I slept on the floor of a dungeon for six months, I think I can manage one more night without a bed.”

Gendry turned with a point. “Is everyone in our family this insufferable?” When you smirked, he tried not to as well. “At least we're consistent.”

As the night progressed and more silence fell over the quarters of the Inn, you could at least find any semblance of solace that this truth of family did not destroy the only good thing you had in your life, not yet anyways.

Sam could not figure out why the trio he saw the night before was still fresh on his mind. It was as if in another life they were people he had met, when Sam had hardly been anywhere in Barrowton yet beyond the docks and the path to the Inn. Even now as Gilly and Little Sam were beside him, as she was enjoying the sights as she always managed too, Sam was still thinking about it.

He could see closer to the water front, two figures. Backs to him, but one with long dark hair against a thin cloak which reminded him of before until he realized it was in fact them. The boy was next to her, and the third of the group was nowhere to be seen as of yet. He hadn't wanted to seem as if spying was what he was doing, but as Gilly was distracted, and he couldn't help himself.

Closer, but far enough away a man like Sam appeared no out of the ordinary, he could barley hear voices. The boy sounded familiar, but not recognizable through the fading distance and the woman was closer anyways. He was sure he had not recognized hers, but she spoke more refined then her appearance would speak of.

“Have you never been this close to the open water before?” The boy shook his head no, and the girl nudged his shoulders for a moment, leaning more against the stone. “This is nothing, you should see how the sea looks on a ship. Only water for miles, like it never ends.”

“Maybe it doesn't.” The boy still didn't peel his eyes from the view. “My father used to say the Sunset Sea never ends, no one's ever survived a journey out there.”

What sounded like a smile could be heard on her voice, even from where Sam strained. “Is that what sounds adventurous to you? Well let me know when you plan dying at sea, I'll pay for the ship myself if you are so inclined.” Another pause between them, Sam wasn't sure what the boy said, he was rather quiet against the sounds of the town around them, but she once more spoke far clearer, making her the one Sam could listen too. “You follow along the river long enough, you'll reach out to Blazewater Bay and from there the sea is yours to follow as much as you want. Maybe you'll end up on the other side of the world eventually.”

He said something and the woman laughed fairly freely. “I don't know if I have ever heard something sound so amusingly forced coming from your mouth before. But I'll have to pass on that opportunity. I have no interest in seeing that far West, or East for that matter. Westeros is large enough as it is for how little I've seen of it.”

“Sam?” Turning his head, Gilly has rejoined him with a question bright in her eyes. “What are you doing?” All three of them looked the way Sam did, the pair speaking too quiet to catch either of their voices now.

Tilting his head, he wondered if he had spent too much time around Maesters and the open sea. He was starting to read into things which didn't exist. He had too much on his plate to start that now, he would have too much to look into anyways when they got there, part of him still hoped he would be allowed to stay, just for a little while.

Looking back to Gilly, he shook his head. “Thought one of them looked familiar, is all. Are you ready to go back, yet or is there more you want to see?”

Thinking to herself for a moment, she adjusted Little Sam in her arms, before both of them glanced back to each other with a more amused look. “I think Sam here might start getting cranky if we're out here much longer.” The poor boy looked tired, spending that much time so young at sea must not be good for a young one his age.

Trying to look as if he was fine, Sam smiled as he didn't buy it. Running a hand over Little Sam's bright blonde hair, he leaned in. “Then how about we find you and your mother something to eat before she gets cranky right with you.”

Indignant as she was amused, Gilly protested. “I do not get cranky.”

Sam could only laugh as they begun to walk. “Oh, yes you do.” But it was then he looked over the closer they walked. The perfect moment did Sam look and the boy turned around to the town and Sam stopped in an instant.

Looking at one another, Sam knew he recognized him. Nudging Gilly, he whispered as his eyes kept on the boys, now wide as it registered to him as well. “Gilly isn't that-” Sam had no inclination as to why, but he looked not in a register of familiarity as they parted was of, but something fearful.

Her own eyes narrowed in confused recognition. “What is he doing all the way out here?” Too right a question Sam thought, what was all the way in Barrowton a place Olly just so happened to be in? With a pair he didn't recognize and certainly given a woman was by his side, not from the Nights Watch either.

Both had approached that direction, but Olly had turned to the woman by then. Speaking in low tones, her head turned around and a dark, narrowed look came about her eyes as she whipped it back in whispering tones. Back and forth they went until she turned to face as they approached.

All but forcing Olly to stand behind her protective stance. Whatever they were whispering about, it left Olly more on edge then Sam had seen the boy in a very long time.

Sam knew they were not ones looking threatening, but the woman glared at them as if they posed one all the same. Regardless, Sam asked, “Olly, what are you doing all the way out here?”

But he glanced over to the woman, who kept him behind her without question. As she spoke without wavering or question, there was more then just something refined in her tone, there was something that of a stern authority as she only asked a question in reply. “How do you know him?”

Head tilting back a back, Sam was a bit on air of confused as Olly seemed tense and her even moreso. It was a strange way to see him again. Sam trying to explain himself as not confronting as possible, but he barely got half a sentence out before she struck another question. “I, he came to Castle Black, we met-”

“What's a man of the Night's Watch doing in Barrowton then?”

Truly he, Gilly and Little Sam couldn't possibly look that much of a threat. But as she offered up no information, Sam realized he wasn't sure what to say either. After everything it took to get all the way North again, he had not prepared such an explanation for that wasn't the only truth he thought he'd need to share. So caught up in where he needed to go, forgetting what he'd tell people on the way. “Olly, is everything alright? You know this woman-”

“You think he's with me against his will?” More taken back, Gilly beside him was quiet as she was also watching the woman with a curiosity that she seemed to not appreciate. “He is with me under my protection, no less, no worse.”

It was then Gilly stepped forward, trying her own hand with a quiet but lulling sound to her voice, “Look, maybe we should start over, we meant no harm. Just wanted to make sure he was okay.”

Olly's voice was short but Sam wasn't sure why. He seemed defensive in a fearful way, not aggressive as the woman was. “I'm fine. I was sent here to look for someone, and Mya was helping me. She's my friend.” Easing up a bit it seemed, she moved so her arm wrapped back to pull him more into her side, still not quite as openly hostile but refusing to ease up on her distrust.

Sam paid no mind right away. “Sent by who? Jon- well I suppose not, if he isn't Lord Commander anymore. Whose there if he's King now? Oh, I'd hate for it to be Ser Alliser.” Something uneasy sat between the two of them that was hard to understand. But Gilly once more spoke up.

Readjusting her hold of her son before looking around and back. “We just wanted to know if he was okay, we meant no harm. Right, Sam?”

Sam, looked at her almost offended for a moment as if that thought never crossed his mind. That he could look the one who was threatening. “What?” Before whipping back to the woman, Mya. “No, of course not. I just..I know what you've been through, Olly. I just wanted to know why you were all the way out here alone.”

“Well, he's not alone.”

He hadn't answered why if he was from the Nights Watch why he was here and neither had she explained what she was doing there with Olly, and yet the tension was broken by a growing familiar figure walking up almost the most confused. The dark haired man Sam saw enter the Inn first the night before. He spoke far quicker, and with a much more casual attitude. “I leave you alone for a few hours and you get yourself into trouble?” Their eyes almost glared at one another before he turned around to face Sam with a far more simple air of apology. “Sorry about my sister, I got our mothers charm, she got our fathers attitude.” Turning to her with an amused glint in his eye, “Just so talented at making friends everywhere you go, aren't you?”

It was hard to tell if the look in her eye was wanting to shove her brother, or tell him to shut up. A close tie it seemed, that won draw in doing nothing but glare. Sam looked between them both, before turning to the two beside him. “You're right, we should start over. I'm Sam, this is Gilly.”

Gilly nodding to the young one in her arms, “And you can call this one Little Sam.”

If anyone, which was everyone, was surprised at how easily Mya lightened up, it was tenfold as she gave a little wave to Little Sam, who gave a shy wave back that had her smile gently. Her brother directing attention back. “I'm Satin, this is my sister Mya. We're just helping Olly here out is all, meant no trouble for the Nights Watch or anything. Gods know it's cold enough here without being forced the way up there for getting in your way.”

Gilly looked at her curiously, and still she and Sam could tell Mya didn't like it one bit. But despite the distrust, she ignored the look in Gilly's eye, and came up with the suggestion anyways.

Mya's green eyes more then once had glanced to how closely they kept their things on them, and Sam could only hope they didn't think her a thief or anything. He'd keep their things close no matter what, it was just not simple to explain that. Little Sam now sat on the opposite of the table to her, as all six of the group had agreed to sit down and perhaps start over a little less hostile. Olly stuck by her side, deathly quiet but calm.

“I'm not sure there's anything nice I'd say about Bravvos. Crowded, and it feels like every other person is judging you knowing you don't fit in.” Somehow the discussion had turned to what places they all had seen and without revealing much details as to why he was there, Sam found himself going on about their time in Bravvos.

Sipping at the ale in the mug given to him, Satin tilted his head a bit. “Anything's better then Flea Bottom. Crowded, dirty, everyone's poor. Half the nobles there are too afraid to go to the sept without protection like we're going to attack them at random or something.”

Gilly asked if that was where they both were from, and for a moment they glanced at one another in a matching expression he couldn't figure out before Mya answered for them. “Was. Sometimes it felt though like I'd go years without seeing you, how busy we both were down there.”

Not quite realized at the table, the degree of lying happening on all sides and yet it wasn't being even slightly addressed.

“So is he yours?” Nodding to Little Sam and then to Sam himself, Satin gestured with a pointed look. “I mean he's named after you, just wondering why someone from the Nights Watch is allowed to have a kid.” Mya whipped her head over in a glare, making him raise his hands back slightly in defence. “Just making conversation, not like you're doing anything about that one.”

Sam however, just chuckled. “No, it's alright. It isn't normal, I know but-”

“He's not breaking his vows.” Olly looking up, glancing between he and Mya. “Our vows say we will take no wife and father no children. So really, you haven't done anything wrong, right?”

Something on the air of relieved came over Sam, nodding as he looked at the two with him. “I'm not his blood father, so I don't think that's actually breaking a rule. Besides, I'd guess there are a few brothers who probably have one or two somewhere and don't know it. The amount of them who used to sneak off to Mole's Town for a little sally on the side,”

Leaning a bit forward, her eyes narrowed at him almost in mocking. “Sally on the side?”

Saying he was trying to be discreet in front of the child, Olly ironically spoke up with a more boy like ingidnance. “I'm thirteen, not seven. And I do know what a brothel is.”

At the same time amusingly enough, in a flat tone both siblings simply said “You shouldn't.”

His hands smacking down on his legs, as Mya turned back. Her question was innocuous, or so she had thought. “I was wondering, if you're going back to Castle Black why come through Barrowton? Don't most go through to Eastwatch by the Sea since the path from there is straight?”

Sam and Gilly glanced at each other, “Well, we need to make a stop first. And it was easier to do it getting on the Kingsroad.” Her brows narrowed in question, and only her posture slightly tensed as she found such an answer. “We only stopped here to rest, and find an easy way to stop at Winterfell first.”

“Why?”

Mya was blunt, not rude but didn't quite mince her words trying to get to the point of what someone was saying. In a strange way, in fact, in a guilty way, Sam almost briefly had thought to himself that Jon would like her. “I have..information that I think the King in the North should be made aware of.”

Her quiet afterwards though, spoke something odd in and of itself.

It wasn't until evening fell upon the town, Sam and Gilly spoke amongst themselves, did it come up. Glancing to Mya, Satin, and Olly all in a smaller circle discussing something did she turn with a curious look back to Sam. “Doesn't she remind you of someone?”

Sam looked with furrowed eyes but from here the girl had turned enough he struggled to see her face from anything but the side. “I don't know, I can't really see that much detail from all the way over here. Why who does she remind you of?”

Confident in her voice, she also had no way to know. “Shireen. The princess, King Stannis's daughter.”

Sam squinted from where he sat, only to relent with ease. “Oh, you're sort of right. She does look sort of like Shireen. Of course, unless King Stannis has a pair of twins he doesn't know about.” The two of them however, just looked back at Mya again. It was odd, to Gilly, she really looked strikingly like Shireen just as her twin brother in his way looked like King Stannis.

Sam however, was distracted thinking of something else entirely. He hadn't seen Jon in over a year by now. What happened to make him a King? How did that relate to him fighting against the Army of the Dead? Was Jon coping with you being gone any better, or was it worse? Living in the castle he both grew up in and fell in love with you in. It was only a matter of time before he found out, he supposed.

Sam just hoped that Jon would understand why he came all this way to see him. Glad though, that he'd be seeing him in Winterfell and not Castle Black right away, where he knew Ser Alliser likely would be ready to take charge and demean Sam for just one more thing he failed at.

Much later into the night, it was a fire that started the events. Rumblings outside that grew until they became yells. Many wandered out into the cold of the night only to see a glow of orange and red light the sky up as a building in the distance was engulfed in flames. All walked out the doors to see what appeared from nowhere, only for that of arrows to fly out.

In the watching confusion, many were hit and warnings were yelled of “Raiders,” and it was from the opposite sides of the flames they came out. Using it as a distraction to sneak from the dark behind and screams yelled as blood was spilled.

Sam had grabbed Gilly, her clutching Little Sam to her chest and taken back by the sudden onslaught of chaos. Pulling her into an alcove, he held Heartsbane as if he was confident enough to use it. Not so far away, he could see the girl, Mya, grabbing Olly imploring him to hide, and Olly protesting. “I'm not lea-”

Grabbing him by the upper arms, she seemed to give him one firm shake, “You hide, understand? Hide,” Pushing him to the side of the street did Sam and Gilly grab him. The later pulling the struggling Olly to her front as she held Little Sam tight in the other.

Eyes wide, Sam watched as Mya did what he wished he could. Finding a dagger on her person, he watched her fight with such a practiced ease it was no fluke. Her move to attack and defend in a way commoners didn't know how to, or shouldn't.

Pulling it out did it slice through a mans neck, Mya then turned and dodged another before shoving that same blade into the back of his neck. Fire blazing that drew people to an area, and men everywhere that appeared to only be here to cause chaos and death as Sam felt his heart begin to pound. Fighting up close in one on one combat wasn't how he killed a Thenn, and this time he felt the fear that he knew Gilly and Little Sam were nowhere safe if he left to fight here and now.

Brave men of the North did what they always did though, fight to protect their people. Swords, axes, blades, many came out and some were slaughtered while others cut down those coming at them.

More then once did he watch Satin and Mya both yank the unarmed and innocents back behind them, and sneak up to run the blade through those attacking them. Turning in time, did one man almost get the best of the girl, pushing him back enough before she could get hit. Flipping the blade in her hand, she moved faster then he did, only to confuse him enough as she almost spun to duck under his thrusting arm.

His body turning to her, only to have it shoved deep into his eye, splattering it across the side of Myas face. If this was one thing she could do that was impressive, as her eyes caught Sam she gestured to Heartsbane and yelled, “Do you know how to use that?”

Glancing down, he responded, “Probably not as well as you.” He held it out as she grabbed the hilt and not for a second did she seem to consider anything more. Sam watched, and it hit something odd in him, that in her own way, Mya's way of fighting was quick and graceful.

It reminded him of Jon.

As the clashing of metal dimmed in one's ears did figures come from the distance of where the fire was. They looked more put together then the wild men sent the people's way and as the dark haired twins pushed a group into the nearest door, they both turned with a heave as the men spoke with a yell of authority. A yell of a name Sam hadn't heard in a long time.

“We seek your Queen in the North, that is all. No one else needs to die tonight, but you will have to hand her over.” Satin glanced at Mya, as did Olly, and it was only then did Sam catch the way both of them felt a fear did something unknowing grow inside his chest. No, he thought, she was dead, everyone knew she was dead, and yet these men seemed to think she was hiding here.

An arrow came and hit from random, sending someone to the ground, and quick another as the figure thought none of it. Those Sam did not know the name of held bravery as they stood defiant, “The Queen isn't here, and even if she was we wouldn't hand her over.”

Chuckling the man looked almost uncaring in his eyes. “We don't need you to do it, your precious Queen will hand herself over. Isn't that right, dear?” Arms held out with no weapon and no fear he shouted. “The longer she hides the more of her people suffer on her behalf.”

Two arrows quick shot out, as soon as screaming came to follow, Satin had aggressively moved in an instant to hold his sister back. Turning with something painful and red in her eyes, she tried to move again only to have Sam step forward as well. Arm outstretched as if he wanted to do something, but there was a feeling deeper behind his eyes that made the weariness in Mya's look worse.

And suddenly, he knew, that you knew, Sam just figured it out.

Jon's girl was alive and right in front of him and Sam hadn't realized it until it seemed like it was too late. The men shouted more as you now stood shaking in the group with a jaw so clenched Sam thought it might snap.

“See we don't want any trouble, you people've done nothing wrong yet. But your Queen has a higher power she has to answer to, sins that demand she pay for and if not? We'll just keep killing people right here until she does.”

Sam and Satin both went to stop you again, but you shoved against them, stepping right into the clearing. A smug smile came over the one leading them as he stepped forward as well. Whispers rippled through those still watching. Loud and yet controlled, Sam could see your your eyes blazing strongly almost as the fire behind the men. “Who are you?”

“Come with us and find our for yourself, your grace. Or we could always decide to approach the King in the North to let him decide, I'm sure a man as honourable as he would graciously take your place.”

You were silent, and everyone watched in worry. The moment you spoke Satin tried to walk to you as Sam did, Gilly holding Olly to her as he seemed in a panic. Your voice however, when you did speak finally was heavy.

“On one condition.” Protests waved through the people but you held a hand up as they obeyed in quiet without question. “You leave this city, and these people. I go with you, and when we are done, you leave the North and do not come back. Not for them, not for my King. You want me to answer for my sins? Then I answer for the rest of the North. I'm not here to send any of my people to a slaughter.”

Just as he smiled with a deal, did Gilly have to pull Olly back again. “You can't-”

“It's too late, lad. Your Queen has given herself over for your safety. Very admirable, if the accused stands true it might be the only honourable thing she's ever done.” Sam watched as you said nothing in a glare, only for it to soften when you looked to the group then finding Olly. Shaking your head, but he tried to protest as this time, he didn't hide the tears in his eyes watching you.

Holding your hand out, palm to the men, you made a slow path to go to Sam as he closed the distance. Handing him the blood soaked blade, your eyes begged him in what almost looked like a sorry as he grabbed it from you. Sam wanted to do too much he wasn't capable of. You were supposed to be dead. But it was Satin who broke the silence again. “Anguy?”

The one with the bow raised an eyebrow, “Would you look at that. It feels like it's been a long time, Gendry. Happy to see you aren't dead, yet.” So Mya was really you and Satin was hiding his true name as well, and you travelled with Olly? What in seven hells had Sam stumbled across?

Coming forward, the archer seemed he was the only one to be recognized by Gendry and the rest remained in the dark. “You come with us, but we're taking Gendry and the fat one too.” Pointing to where Sam was close to you. “As collateral. You run, we kill them. You see your trial through to the end and we let them go. So you don't run, your grace. Understood?”

Only the two next to you could see the conflict. The water behind them wanting to fall and the way your muscles and jaw all tensed as it all went to hell once more. Gilly yelled for Sam, and Sam shouted back. “Take Olly and Sam, get to Winterfell, find Jon-” But he was grabbed as was the weapon in his hand as the innocents yelled in protest. Sam could see the devastated way you and Olly watched one another before his vision was over taken just as the men put a hood over you and Gendry as well.

You knew painfully, it had turned into a mess mess. The way he looked at you as you said it was bad, but the way he barley could look at you now that it was out there, was worse.

Jon stood so many feet away from you as his face twisted into a heartbreaking betrayal, you had to tell him the truth and it went as badly as you feared he'd one day look at you with. “My father was the most honourable man I ever met, and now you're going to stand there and say he lied to me all my life.”

You felt the sting in your eyes, he'd been horribly upset the second it came out. But you couldn't know and not tell him. Your voice cracked trying to keep it together, barley able to even come a single step towards him before he'd make that distance even greater. “He was trying to protect you-”

“From knowing who my own mother is?”

He rose his voice and you had to as well, only yours was tinged in guilt and his anger. “From everyone else, from the very family who left three of yours dead, from a life of danger. Robert would have killed you if he knew, if he ever knew.”

You don't think Jon has ever been angry with you, not like this, and it begun to spiral something in your mind that overwhelmed each time he spoke angrier. “So he lies to me, lies to everyone. How long have you known?”

Stammering, you didn't have the right words or calm to explain the dreams and how confusing they left you feeling. Only able to mutter out, “I've..suspected since Dragonstone-”

Not wanting to cry, but you felt your eyes sting with tears anyways. “You've thought this for weeks and are only now just telling me? So this is it? I was born and everyone started lying their asses off. Is any of what he told me even true about her-”

You didn't mean to yell the way you did, but it came out like a scratch as even in his state, Jon could sense a sob trying to claw it's way out of you. “Why do you think he never wanted you around Robert? What do you think would make him want you dead more, if you were born from some secret romance or if you were born because Rhaegar- I knew Robert, and if he knew that's how you came to be, it didn't matter you were Ned Starks son, he would've killed you no matter what.”

Running a hand over his mouth he turned away, taking a few steps before looking back at you. “I've never hidden something like this from you, never. And you let me marry you holding this over my head?”

“I told you as soon as I learned the actual truth. I married you because I love you. Who do you even think I am?” You couldn't come down to earth, Jon was angry and he'd never been angry at you before, never truly yelled at you before and something inside you was losing your grip. Something was scratching at your insides the longer he looked at you almost in hate. Like you were losing the only thing keeping you tethered to this earth the worse that look got.

Not for a second could you figure out what was behind his eyes. They spoke thousands of words and you had not the language to read a single one like this. “I always loved you, but maybe I don't know you anymore. Maybe I don't know anyone, or ever did.”

“Loved? You loved?”

If you were of a less raging mind of chaotic screams of panic, you might have caught the look on Jons face. The one realizing he had just worded that in the worst way he didn't mean. But he was too worked up to know how to figure out how to fix that, and the way he found no way to break the silence from the noise in your own head only made that gap between you both feel like a nightmare.

He knew how badly it came out, and he didn't have the strength to say it in any other way that wasn't going to give you the worst image even when he didn't mean it. But his head was too loud, and his heart wanted to crack into pieces and he didn't want to cry only feet away from his mother's own burial place. “I need to be alone. I can't do this with you right now. I can't think when your around me..”

In truth, Jon didn't know if you actually heard half of this conversation. He had a horrible feeling, that what he said to you, was spoken in a different voice entirely. Beacuse as much as he had never been angry at you like that before, you had never looked at him in fear before. You had though, looked at one other that way.

But there was too much in his mind and heart to recognize that in the moment. So he left, and didn't look back to see that you still hadn't quite come down to earth.

It was Jon's voice, but whispers of Ramsay's words in your mind.

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