Game of Thrones - One Shots

Jon Snow - Mistake...

/// Season 2 spoilers ///

"(Y/N), I don't want to loose you..." Jon trailed off as a single teardrop slid down his cheek. "Please, don't make me do this."

"I'm not forcing you, Jon," hearing his name coming out of your mouth made him sob, "but it's the only way for you to go back to Castleblack..." You looked down at your feet, trying to hide the tears that weld up in your eyes, "the only way for you to survive." You tilted your head up to meet his puffy brown eyes that seemed to create more water by every second that you looked into them.

"I should be the one to- you don't have to die!" He screamed but his voice broke halfway; he had put his hands on your shoulders, squeezing them tightly but not enough to hurt you. His touch was cold; or maybe it was the cave you had been locked in that did not welcome warmth.

"We both know that's not true. It is the only way." You replied calmly, trying not to let your emotions show to the man you loved.

Falling in love with a crow was the one thing you never would have even dared to imagine happening. You had been put in charge of keeping an eye on the man after the wildlings had captured him. At first you thought it was a boring task; he would not escape -and if he did, you knew your way around the North, he didn't. But you did as you were told and looked after the prisonner; you shared meals, but also your tent. He never spoke to you, or anyone; so when you asked questions, you were content to get a nod or a grunt as an answer. Obviously, he was attached to a deeply buried in the ice steel-like rod which he had to lean on to sleep; it did not seem very comfortbale and you had, not much more but a mattress. One night, you got bored of hearing his cloak rubbing against the steel so you loosened his ties and let him sleep lying down on the floor. You did the same the day that followed, and the one after that, and the one after that, until you got bored of hammering the steel bar into the ground everytime you changed camp and let him rest wherever he wanted. In the beginning you slept on opposite sides of the tent, but as days went by and nights grew colder you got closer to one another to end up in each other's arms. At this point, you finally talked at meals, and you did the same when you went to bed. You found yourself grow fonder of the southerner. One day, while everybody else on the campment had gone hunting, you and Jon were the only one left to keep everything in order until they came back. You remembered this oh so clearly...

"Hey," Jon began, playing with the knot of the rope that attached his hands together, you had your back turned to him, you were rummaging through some weapons you had recently made, you softly hummed in response, "I don't think I ever thanked you..." He paused as if he was contemplating on what to add, you kept looking at bows, arrows, swords, axes, he finally completed his sentence with a 'thank you'. You finished sorting things out and faced him with a bright smile on your face.

"You might be our prisoner but that doesn't mean that we have to treat you for less than what you are." You walked through the campment, looking for weapons that might not be hidden or ready for battle. Jon followed you.

"And what exactly am I?" He questionned making you face him, a smile on your lips.

"A human being." You laughed at his startled face; you were not the same as your other friends wildlings, you had been educated and knew how to express yourself properly.

"A fancy wildling." You and him both chuckled. When the laughter died down you looked into each other's eyes and he took a few steps forwards. You could feel heat emanating from him as he closed the space between you two and pressed his body to yours. He placed his hands on your cheeks and caressed them with his thumb. You knew this was not good, this would get you both in a lot of trouble, but no one had ever taken an interest in you like he had. You moved your hands towards his collar and clutched it tightly making him bring his face closer to yours, and a second later, you were kissing.

You had succeeded in keeping your relationship secret for a while until one night, someone entered the wrong tent, yours. After a couple of hours everybody on the camp knew about you two. Mance's successor who had been proclamed after the former died from a deep wound, was known for his intense liking of blood and battles. He had given you the opportunity to repay for your crimes. It was a really simple punishment. The simplest one. Death. One of you had to die for the other one to live.

"Please, don't leave me..." Jon tried to convince you that there was another way -and truly you thought he tried to convince himself of that too. There wasn't. You brought your hands up to Jon's face and stroked his tear-stained beard.

"It will be fine, if you do it right, I won't even feel any pain." You told him as he looked down at his feet, trying to figure out something else. He found nothing. Nothing came to him. You let go of his cheeks and he did the same with your shoulders. His right hand rested on the handle of his dagger, he gripped it so tightly his knuckles turned white. He unsheathed the weapon and looked at you, then at the dagger and back at you. He shook his head violently.

"I'm sorry, I can't." He stated, taking a few steps back affraid that the dagger would stab you without his consent. "I love you." His eyes watered again, his grip on the dagger lessened so you quickly got closer to him and took a hold of the hand that was holding it.

"Jon," You began, waiting for him to lock eyes with yours, once they met you smiled, "I love you too." You abruptly tightened your grip on his hand and plunged the knife deeply into your chest.

Tears fell from his face and landed on yours. You knew that his warmth will accompany you everywhere, even in the afterlife; and so was the cry of the wolf.