Love beneath the Snow

12| 𝔞 𝔡𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔯𝔬𝔲𝔰 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢

𝔴𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔣𝔢𝔩𝔩, 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔫𝔬𝔯𝔱𝔥

— THE FLICKERING CANDLELIGHT CAST WAS DANCING SHADOWS ON THE STONE WALLS OF VALIRA'S CHAMBER. The room was quiet, save for the soft crackling of the fire in the hearth and the occasional rustle of the heavy winter curtains. Jon and Valira lay together in her bed, their bodies close, their breaths mingling in the chill of the evening. Jon propped himself up on one elbow, studying Valira's face. Her dark hair spread out on the pillow like a silken veil, and her eyes shone with a soft, reflective light.

"I've been meaning to give you something," Jon said, his voice low and steady. Valira turned her head to look at him, curiosity evident in her gaze. "What is it?" Jon reached into the pocket of his tunic and pulled out a small pouch. With careful hands, he opened it and revealed a ring, its band made of a deep, rich brown stone with swirling veins of blue. The stones seemed to capture the light of the candle, reflecting a subtle, captivating glow.

"I made this for you," Jon explained, his eyes fixed on the ring as he held it out to her. "It's made of northern stones—brown and blue, like the colors of our eyes." Valira took the ring from him, her fingers brushing against his. The touch was gentle, intimate. She examined the piece closely, the significance of the gift touching her deeply. "It's beautiful, thank you." she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "But... why?" Jon's gaze softened as he looked at her.

"Because I wanted to give you something that reminds you of me, of us. Every time you look at it, I want you to remember that I love you. That I will always love you."

Valira's eyes filled with emotion as she met his gaze. The sincerity in his voice, the depth of his feelings, were evident and touching. "I love you too, Jon," she replied, her voice trembling slightly. "More than words can say." Jon's heart swelled at her words. He leaned in, his lips finding hers in a tender kiss that began with a soft, lingering touch. The world outside seemed to fade away as their connection deepened, their breaths mingling in the warmth of their shared space. The kiss grew more passionate, the initial softness giving way to an urgent, fervent intimacy.

Jon's hands gently cupped her face, his fingers tracing the delicate lines of her cheeks. Valira responded with equal tenderness, her hands sliding up to rest on his shoulders. They lost themselves in the kiss, each touch a silent declaration of the love they felt. The warmth between them grew, not just from their closeness but from the depth of their emotions.

Just as their passion ignited, a sudden knock on the door broke the spell, causing both to freeze. Jon's eyes widened, and he quickly pulled back, his face a mask of concern. The sound was followed by a timid voice. "Valira, can I come in?" Panic flashed in Jon's eyes. He quickly pulled away and darted to a darkened corner of the room. Valira's heart raced as she hastily adjusted her appearance, smoothing her hair and trying to calm her breathing. "Just a moment," she called out, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside. She moved to the door and opened it to reveal Myrcella, who looked pale and disheveled. "Are you alright?" Valira asked softly, stepping aside to let her in. Myrcella, her eyes wide and shimmering with unshed tears, nodded. "I had a nightmare," she admitted, her voice trembling.

"I couldn't sleep. May I stay with you tonight?"

Valira's heart ached for her younger sister. "Of course," she said warmly, reaching out to comfort her. "Come in." As Myrcella entered the room, she made her way to the bed, climbing in with a small, frightened whimper. Valira quickly followed, moving to sit beside her and offer solace. Jon, seeing that he had only moments left, carefully made his way out of her chambers.

Myrcella nestled close to Valira, seeking comfort as the older sister wrapped an arm around her. Valira's heart was heavy, both for the love she had just shared with Jon and for the tender trust her sister placed in her. "Try to relax," Valira said softly, stroking Myrcella's hair. "You're safe here."

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Jon moved swiftly through the hidden passageways of Winterfell, his heart still racing from the intensity of his time with Valira and the near-miss of being discovered by Myrcella. The stone walls of the castle were cold against his back as he navigated the familiar but rarely traveled route back to his own chambers. His thoughts were a tangle of emotions—love, desire, and now, a creeping sense of unease.

Finally, he reached his door, pausing for a moment to catch his breath before pushing it open. But as the door swung inward, he froze, his hand still on the handle. Sitting calmly in a chair by the fire was Cersei Lannister, her golden hair catching the flicker of the flames. Her posture was relaxed, but her eyes gleamed with a dangerous intensity.

"Your Grace," Jon greeted her, his voice steady despite his surprise. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him, though his mind was already racing to make sense of her presence. "What can I do for you?" Cersei's gaze swept over him, assessing, calculating. She remained silent for a moment, letting the weight of the situation sink in. "You can start," she said, her voice cold and sharp, "by telling me what you think you're doing with my daughter."

Jon's heart skipped a beat, but he kept his face impassive. "I don't know what you mean, Your Grace." Cersei's lips curled into a predatory smile. "Don't insult me, Jon Snow. Do you think I'm blind? Do you think I don't see the way you look at her, the way you follow her like some lovesick pup? Myrcella may be sweet and innocent, but Valira is mine. She's a princess, Jon. And you—you're nothing more than a bastard." The word landed with a sting, but Jon met her gaze evenly.

"With all due respect, Your Grace, my birth doesn't define my feelings. I love Valira."

Cersei's smile vanished, replaced by a hard, steely glare. "Love?" she spat, her voice dripping with contempt. "You speak of love as if it changes what you are. You're not worthy of her, Jon Snow. You're not worthy to even speak her name. She's a Baratheon, a princess, and you... you're a bastard, with no name, no claim, and no future." Jon felt the weight of her words, the harsh reality of his status laid bare before him. But he didn't flinch. "I may be a bastard, but I'm also a man who knows what he wants. And I want Valira. I love her."

Cersei's eyes narrowed, her expression twisting into something dangerous. "Then you're a fool," she hissed. "Do you think I'll allow you to taint her with your lowborn blood? If you care for her at all, you'll stay away. Because if you don't, I'll make sure you regret it." Jon's jaw tightened, his mind reeling from the threat, but his resolve remained unshaken. "If loving her is a crime, then I'll gladly pay the price."

Cersei stood, her movements smooth and deliberate, as she took a step closer to him. The tension in the room was palpable, and Jon could feel the ice in her gaze. "You've been warned, Jon Snow. Keep away from her. Or I will destroy you. And trust me," she added, her voice lowering to a whisper, "I know how to destroy bastards." With that, Cersei turned and walked toward the door, her presence leaving a cold void in the room. She paused briefly at the threshold, casting one final, withering glance over her shoulder. Then, without another word, she slipped out of the chamber, leaving Jon alone with the echo of her threat.

Jon stood in the dim light, his mind churning. He had known that loving Valira would be complicated, but now it seemed even more dangerous than he had imagined. Yet, despite the fear gnawing at him, the thought of giving her up felt impossible. As the door closed behind Cersei, Jon was left with the reality of what he faced. He loved Valira, and no amount of threats or insults would change that. But now, more than ever, he knew that their love would come at a cost.

A/N:
Cersei, can't you just leave them alone? Like come on!!! I hope you guys like this chapter. What do you think will happen?
Love you all!