Velaryon: A Game of Thrones Fan Fiction

Rude Remarks - Jon

     Jon is conflicted. On one hand, he loathes the girl's presence here. Women were and should never be accepted in the Watch. Ever. Especially women from the South. The southern women know nothing but summers and wavy, silky dresses. Rarely must they ever see combat, let alone anything outside of their comfort zone. On the other hand, this girl is different. Jon can feel that there is something special about her. The way she fights is incredible. She's fierce and accustomed to the frigid cold like she were born in the North, but alas, she comes from the South. It baffles him greatly. Where did she learn to fight? How in the world did she ever learn on that island she hails from? Doubtful it sees battles everyday and she fights like she's won wars before. It's... admirable.

     Rain sits not far from him now in the mead hall. Sam had told Jon he wanted to speak to her. He objected and tried to tell his friend to keep away from her. If they were seen with her they wouldn't be respected for talking to her. And Sam told him something that struck too close for comfort. 'You spoke to me when no one else would.' Jon couldn't argue any further and said nothing, only looking down at his stew in embarrassment as Sam left. They've gone somewhere now, Gods only know where. It's not like Jon cared anyways. However, they've been gone for nearly an hour now and he finds himself thinking about her again. He closes his eyes.

     Never will he admit that he has feelings for her to anyone. Let them speculate but they will never know truly. They'll never know that he lays awake at night, picturing her beside him. Laying on his chest, breathing softly while she sleeps with her beautiful hair free and long and unbraided. Her eyes closed but he knows the vivid lilac color they hold. Skin so soft and smooth as he runs his hands over the bareness of it. In his mind, they have just finished what they have done in his bed. Though, he craves more of her. He needs her. All he wants to do--

     "I'd like to fuck her all night." A brother in black says not too far from Jon. His eyes fly open. Though he shouldn't care, he does. He looks in the direction of the rowdy laughter. The man who spoke is making curving motions with his hands like he's tracing her body. While he then bounces his arms up and down on his lap, another man shakes his head while laughing.

     "Don't you know anythin'? She's got that Targaryen blood. She don't want to fuck you, she wants to fuck her brother!" More laughter breaks out. Jon feels anger rise in him.

     "I got more to offer than him. Inbreedin' makes your willy small, you know!"

     "Well, I ain't inbred if you know what I mean." The laughter roars through the hall. It fuels Jon's hatred for them and, as much as he did not want to, he speaks up.

     "You will not speak ill of her or I will cut your tongue out myself."

     The men quiet immediately and stare at him both shockingly and humorously. They chuckle amongst themselves. "Standin' up for her, aye Snow?" One says mockingly. "I can guess why. You had one girl now you want them all, that it?" He sneers, bringing his old love Ygritte up. Jon glares at them.

     "You heard me." He warns.

     "You and what army, Snow? You ain't got your little wolf to protect you this time."

     Jon stands slowly. "No. I know I can kill you all with ease, though. Do you really want to test me?" He says in a low, threatening voice like a wolf snarling at his enemies. One wrong move, and the wolf strikes. "I may not have my direwolf, but I have enough wolfsblood in me to fight like one. Now tell me, do you still want to speak wrongly about her?" His warning strikes fear in to the other men's hearts and their looks of resentment turn to terror. They know he is not lying. They've seen him training in the courtyard and how he can fight. He may have lost to a girl, but that does not mean he lost his skill. The men turn away from him and continue eating in complete silence.

     Jon takes his seat and relishes the feeling of knowing he's won. They won't be bothering Rhaena again unless they want to fight him first. And then it suddenly hits him - why did he just do that? He needs to loathe her, not act like he's head over heels for her or willing to die for her safety. He curses himself for doing what he did. Just then, Sam returns with Rhaena behind him. He is covered in snow yet she has not a flake on her save for in her hair. They sit and resume their meal as the men around them watch cautiously, taking care to keep their looks to a minimum. It seems Rhaena has noticed this and looks around. She looks confused but shakes her head and continues eating. All feelings of Jon's previous regret fade. He stares at her lovingly, the dream of she and him together in his chamber coming to mind once again...