Game Of Thrones OneShots

Jon Snow x Reader

DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN SEASON 8

(Listen to song Look After You by Aaron Wright on Spotify)

Your father, Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell, had summoned you to his office. A letter had arrived from the Capital, where your close friend, Talisa, had been staying with her betrothed, some Noble Man she had been promised to. You of course had been upset at her leave, but had understood why she had to go.

Opening the letter, you barely got to the second line before you stopped, tears welling in your eyes. Without saying a word, you clutched the letter tightly in your hand and ran, out the door, down the stairs and corridors, out the gates and into the Godswood. You needed somewhere quiet.

Settling in the snow, you balled and balled, clutching that piece of paper to your chest. She had been killed, murdered brutally, only for the coins in her purse and the shoes on her feet. You would never see her again.

You had never felt so alone in that moment. 

You didn't hear the crunch of snow behind you, but you recognised the smell of Jon as he placed his arms around you and held you close, whispering words of comfort in your ear, before taking you back into the castle, staying with you, making sure you were ok. 

He didn't mind your puffy eyes or tear streaked skin. Your unruly hair or snotty nose. He just held you close and told you that everything would be okay, that you'd find a way through this.

He was one of the few that looked after you.

Sword fighting had never been your strong point, but what you lacked in skill you made up for in resilience. You were always one to get back up on your feet, a smile bright on your face, ready to try again, to learn from your mistakes. Today though, your heart wasn't in it. You missed your friend dearly, and it grieved you that you didn't have the chance to say goodbye to her.  So when Robb gave you a particularly hard blow, and you stumbled and fell, you couldn't find it in you to get back up.

Jon was over in an instant, pulling you to your feet, brushing down your clothing, gently taking the sword from your hand and leading you away from the courtyard as the tears began to fall down your cheeks.

You didn't know what to do with yourself. You felt hopeless. Every distraction failed, nothing was helping you.  You were so unsure. But still Jon looked after you, persistent, never letting you be alone too long. He wanted to help you.

In  the early months of her death, you dreamt about it constantly. You had known Talisa since you were small, maybe 3, and you had grown up together, talked about everything together. When she had left, you heart had broken. You had loved her like another sister, and you hated how far away she was. She was only 16 when she died, the same age as you, and your dreams often switched the two of you around. You hated your mind for it, as you often woke up in the night breathing heavily with tears down your face the image still fresh in your mind. It slowly chipped away at you, at your mind, and people began to notice that you never really smiled anymore.

One night, you had felt so distraught, so devastated, your hope completely lost, that you had stumbled your way out of bed and down the corridors knowing that you had to get to Jon, that he would comfort you, keep you safe. Like a moth to a light. You had been unsure of the way, and he had found you, half an hour later, wandering around the corridors, and had taken you back to his room, continuously wiping the tears from your face. He had kept a fire going for hours, and just let you cry out your sorrows to him, holding you close, making sure you knew that he would always be there for you, no matter what. He was there for you, even in your darkest hour.

And you knew at that moment he always would be.

7 years later, after everything that had happened, somehow, you had found him, though not without loss, and sacrifice and pain, crumpled over the dead body of Daenerys Targaryen on the stairs that had once led up to the Iron Throne. You had crouched beside him, just as he had done 7  years prior in the Godswood, and you had wrapped your arms around his shaking form, and whispered words of comfort in his ear, rocking him gently, stroking the dark curls you had missed so much, telling him that it would be ok. You could see his love for the girl, and you knew his heart would be broken, but you also knew that he could be fixed. It would take time, and he would have setbacks, but one day he would be ok. He would heal. He would get better. But he wouldn't be able to do it alone. So you sat with him, holding him close to you, comforting him, and allowing him to let it all out with no worry of being judged.

He had done so much for you when your friend Talisa had died, you had needed him so dearly in that time, and now you would repay him.

Now he needed you to look after him.