A Song of Fire & Snow (GOT)(Jon Snow)

Chapter 23: Jon Snow

~Flames of Desire~

 Jon had spent the last two days searching for Alarys, his mind consumed by thoughts of her, and yet, every time he went to find her, she seemed to be just out of reach. Whether it was in the halls, the battlements, or even in the small garden near the keep—Alarys was always gone before he arrived, as if she knew exactly where he was headed and made sure to stay three steps ahead.

The frustration gnawed at him, growing heavier with each hour that passed. He couldn't understand it—what had he done to push her away? His mind was a storm of thoughts, flipping between his concerns for the North and his people, the growing threat of the White Walkers, and his ever-deepening feelings for Alarys. The two seemed inextricably linked now, one amplifying the other. And as much as he tried to focus on what lay ahead for the North, his thoughts always came back to her.

Standing outside her chambers once more, Jon let out a quiet sigh. Empty. Again. He knocked softly, waiting for some sign of life from inside, but all he got was the hollow echo of his own tapping on the wood. He clenched his jaw, his patience wearing thin, though it was not with Alarys—he was frustrated with himself, with his inability to just find her and talk to her, to figure out what was wrong between them.

Finally, he resorted to asking Daenerys if she had seen or spoken to Alarys. He found her in the war room, going over strategies with Tyrion and her advisors. When he approached, Daenerys raised an eyebrow, a sly smile pulling at her lips.

"Have you spoken to Alarys?" Jon asked, feeling awkward even as the words left his mouth.

Daenerys chuckled lightly, leaning back in her chair, folding her arms. "It seems you've lost track of your lady, Jon Snow."

His expression hardened at her playful tone, and he quickly shook his head. "She's not—"

Daenerys cut him off with a laugh, the sound ringing through the room. "Oh, spare me the denials. You've been walking around this castle like a ghost, looking for her. Anyone with eyes can see you care for her. Perhaps more than you even realize."

Jon stammered, his words catching in his throat. He hadn't intended to reveal so much, but Daenerys's directness had thrown him off balance. "It's not like that," he muttered, his voice sounding weak even to his own ears.

Daenerys raised an eyebrow, still smiling. "It certainly looks like it. And if you care for her as much as it seems, why not just talk to her? Whatever it is, avoiding her won't solve it."

Jon shifted on his feet, unsure how to respond. But Daenerys's words cut through his pride, leaving him no choice but to nod. "I'm not avoiding her, I've been looking for her so that I can talk to her," he said, quietly. He thanked Daenerys and left the war room, a newfound determination guiding his steps as he made his way back toward Alarys's chambers.

He was going to find her. This time, he wasn't leaving until they spoke.

As he rounded the corner, he saw her, just about to leave her room. Her hand was on the door handle, and when she spotted him, her eyes widened in surprise.

"Alarys," Jon called out, his voice firm but not angry.

She hesitated for a moment, clearly caught off guard. "Jon... I was just about to—"

"We need to talk," he said, stepping forward before she could escape again. Alarys glanced at the door, weighing her options, but finally stepped back inside her room, holding the door open for him to follow.

The room was simple but warm, the flicker of firelight casting shadows across the stone walls. Alarys crossed her arms, leaning back against the far wall, her expression unreadable. Jon shut the door behind him, taking a deep breath before facing her.

"What did I do to anger you?" he asked, cutting straight to the point. "You've been avoiding me for days."

Alarys shook her head, her lips tightening into a thin line. "You didn't do anything, Jon. It's nothing."

"It's not nothing," Jon insisted, taking a step closer. "I can see it. I can feel it. You've been distant, avoiding me. And I don't know why."

Alarys's gaze darted away from his, as if searching for an excuse, a way out of this conversation. But Jon wasn't letting her run this time. He took another step toward her, his presence filling the small room.

"Tell me what's wrong," he pressed, his voice low, leaving no room for evasion.

Alarys swallowed, her arms dropping to her sides, her breath catching in her throat. "I told you—it's nothing."

But Jon wasn't buying it. His eyes narrowed, and before she could move, he closed the distance between them, trapping her against the wall with his body, his hands resting on either side of her. His face was inches from hers, his breath warm against her skin.

Alarys's eyes widened, clearly not expecting this side of him. Jon had always been careful around her, respectful—distant, even, at times. But now, there was an intensity in his gaze, a determination that sent a thrill through her.

"I'm not going to ask again," Jon said, his voice firm, commanding. "What is it?"

Her lips parted as if she were about to respond, but no words came. She was caught, her heart racing as his presence overwhelmed her. She could feel the heat radiating off him, the weight of his gaze making it impossible to think clearly. She tried to deflect, to talk around the subject, but the truth slipped out before she could stop it.

"It's... Daenerys," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper.

Jon's brow furrowed in confusion at first, but then understanding dawned in his eyes. A slow smirk spread across his lips as the realization hit him.

"You're jealous," he said, his voice laced with surprise, and something else—satisfaction.

Alarys's cheeks flushed, her pride kicking in as she opened her mouth to deny it, but before she could say a word, Jon's hands moved to her arms, gently but firmly holding her in place.

"You have no reason to feel jealous of Daenerys," he said, his voice low, his eyes locking onto hers with a smoldering intensity that sent shivers down her spine. "You... Alarys... are the only thing on my mind. You consume my every thought."

Alarys's breath hitched, her heart racing as Jon's words washed over her. His hands slid up to her face, cupping her cheeks, his touch both gentle and commanding.

"I can't even escape you in my dreams," he whispered, his forehead pressing lightly against hers.

Before she could stop herself, Alarys's defenses crumbled. The fire inside her, the one she had fought so hard to control, flared up, but this time, it wasn't fear or anger fueling it. It was desire. The heat between them was undeniable, and as Jon's lips descended onto hers in a passionate kiss, she let go of everything she had been holding back.

She tried to resist for a brief moment, but the battle was lost before it even began. Alarys melted into him, her arms wrapping around his neck as she kissed him back with just as much intensity. His hands slid down her body, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them, their need for each other overriding all else.

The world outside disappeared as they lost themselves in each other, the tension that had been building between them for weeks finally breaking free in a rush of passion. Their kiss deepened, their bodies moving together as they tumbled onto the bed, consumed by the heat of the moment.

They continued late into the night, their desire for one another finally unleashed, filling the room with a fervor neither of them could deny. And when the morning sun finally began to rise, they lay together, their limbs tangled, the soft light spilling into the room as they watched the world outside come to life.

Jon held Alarys close, her head resting on his chest as they lay in silence, the warmth of their shared connection wrapping around them like a blanket. For now, at least, they were both at peace—together.