Inspired by the song Violet Hill by Coldplay.
Now.
There's a cold wind roaming the air the day that Jon comes back. It's the middle of december and there's snow covering everything. White, pure snow; on the rooftops, on the floor, on the trees and the lighting poles. It's perfect, he muses when he sees it. It's the north after all, what would the north be without white snow and cold winds?
His plane arrives in the early morning and he hasn't told anyone he would be home so soon. Robb is here already, he knows, and so is Sansa. Bran will be arriving the next day with his new girlfriend and Rickon is the only one who remains living at home, so of course he's there.
If he would have called, they would be waiting for him right there at the airport. Robb for sure, at least, and Rickon would like to tag along, obviously. But he has his reasons not to tell. A warm smile pulls at his lips, a smile that hasn't graced his face in a long time, and he moves swiftly to the other side of the airport.
She should be there around 8:30 a. m.
He's carrying little luggage, he likes to travel light, and moves by himself with no problem, dodging through the sea of people. It's a crowded time of the year, people travelling to see their families for Christmas, and it can be a little chaotic if you are not well-orientated in such a big airport. White Harbor has always been the center for travelling in the north, it's to be expected, he thinks as he sees people with an annoyed look in their eyes.
Shrugging them out of his mind, he keeps moving and then stops completely, his breath leaving his lungs suddenly. There she is, walking quickly with her head held up high. She is looking out the large windows, smiling when she sees the snow and biting her lower lip in what he knows is an old habit. So there's my jacket, he thinks when he sees what she's wearing and notices the leather jacket that loosely covers her upper body. She looks annoyed, he notices, and he wants to laugh. Of course, it's way too early for my little wolf. But she also looks excited and happy and—gods, she's gorgeous.
"Arya", he calls and for a second he believes it was too quiet, he believes she won't hear him and that he'll have to call louder. But she stops, abruptly, and looks around bewildered. She hasn't even found him yet and he can see how her lips form his name.
"Jon?" and then she sees him and her smile widens. "Oh, by the Gods, Jon!" Without any further words, Arya drops her bags and runs to him, ignoring the odd looks around her or the people that it's on her way. She just runs and doesn't stops until she's in his arms.
Jon hugs her strongly, almost crushing her against him and he would try to be more gentle if she weren't hugging him just as strongly. "Cousin dear," she whispers in his ear in a voice that causes a dwell of emotions on his chest to create a tension that oppresses his heart. He laughs to release it and hugs her even more strongly, hearing her laugh as well.
"I've missed you," their voices mingle together when the words leaves both their mouths at the same time. Arya laughs again and pulls away slightly to kiss his cheek repeatedly, one kiss after the other, soft like breaths.
"I was so happy when I got your call! I was so happy you were safe," she speaks rapidly, desperate to get the words out and Jon smiles at her endearing behavior. She finally pauses and takes a deep breath. "Are you on block leave?"
It's the most obvious thing to assume. He's home for the holidays, but he'll have to leave after; that's what everyone will probably think once they see him. The fact that it's not the truth makes him smile enigmatically.
"No."
Arya frowns and tilts her head, confused. "You are not?"
"Terminal leave."
The smile is wiped from her face and her eyes widen. Then, they fill with tears she will not shed. Arya Stark doesn't let people see her cry and the airport is incredibly crowded.
"You won't leave again? You are here forever?"
"Well, not forever. I mean, I'm human-" she hits him in the chest and he laughs, delighted at her happy expression. "Yes, I won't leave again."
She bites her lip, shakes her head, and hugs him again, hiding her face in his chest. He can feel her shaking but he doesn't know if it's because she's crying or because she's laughing. Probably both. Her arms are around him, holding him as tightly as she can, and Jon supports his chin on her head, letting her closeness warm his heart.
He sighs because, if he doesn't, he'll probably start crying too.
People pass by and stare at them. They all smile. He's wearing the military uniform, since it was his last day when he left The Wall, and it's not hard to notice that they all probably know what's going on. The soldier coming back home to his beloved.
The thought makes him smile, the words his beloved fueling him with even more determination. I'll tell her today. I won't let this carry on in silence anymore. I'll tell her today.
Then.
"What are you doing?" Grenn's voice made him pause and Jon raised his eyes to see one of his roommates looking at him bewildered. "Are you—are you cleaning?"
"Yes", he answered simply and looked down at the kitchen table to keep on cleaning it, the smell of disinfectant floating in the air.
"Okay."
A few moments of silence passed and then he heard another door open and steps walking towards the kitchen.
"What is he doing?" This time it was Pyp's voice, sounding confused and tired. Jon sighed and didn't answer.
"He is cleaning." He didn't raise his eyes, but Grenn's voice came from the same place it had before, so he assumed the guy was standing in the same spot, just staring as Jon cleaned.
"Yeah, I see that, idiot. I'm asking why."
"You didn't ask why, fuckhead. You said what is he doing? There's no why in there."
"Well, yeah, but I meant—"
"Both of you, shut up." That was Sam, probably standing in the beginning of the hallway that led to the rooms, just like Pyp and Grenn were. "I think Jon has gone mental."
Jon sighed again and dropped the cloth he was using to clean. He raised his eyes and stared at his roommates, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "I haven't gone mental, okay? Arya is arriving today and I would like to have a decent place to show to my cousin."
Grenn blinked, even more confused. "Wait, wait, wait. The Arya?"
"Do I have another cousin named Arya?"
Pyp tried to argue. "You could have another cou—"
"Have I mentioned another cousin named Arya?"
His three friends looked at each other and then shook their heads. "Nope," answered Grenn for all of them and Jon raised his arms, slightly exasperated.
"There you go."
"I thought she was arriving tomorrow," Sam said and the other two turned to look at him.
"You knew the Arya was coming?" Grenn looked shocked, betrayed even, as if Sam had committed a crime for knowing.
"Why do you call her the Arya?" Jon's question was completely ignored so he shrugged and kept cleaning.
"Yeah, Jon told us all like three months ago."
"And you remember that?"
"Why wouldn't I?"
"Because I'd completely forgotten!"
"Well, that's you. I specifically remember Jon saying she was arriving tomorrow, not today."
Jon raised his eyes and saw that all three of them were staring at him, waiting for an answer. He moved to the sink and rinsed the cloth.
"There was a mistake with the system in the Braavosi airport. She's arriving today, not tomorrow." He turned off the faucet, put the cloth under the sink and turned back to his friends. "And her plane is arriving soon, so I'll go take a shower and then I'll drive to Westwatch-by-the-Bridge to pick her up. Please, don't get anything too messy or too dirty." He walked to the bathroom and then, as an afterthought, added, "And, please, behave whilst she's here."
"Behave how?" Pyp asked, getting a box of cereal from the cupboard. "You said she's not uptight like most girls. I don't think our normal behaviour will bother her or something."
"I know it won't bother her but," he stopped, lost for words, and tried to explain himself with hand gestures, pointing to all four of them in a circular motion. His friends looked at him with similar looks of confusion, "you know"
Sam nodded. "She's your best friend, you want her to like us."
"Exactly!"
"We'll behave." Grenn promised and Pyp nodded strongly, cereals falling out of his too full mouth.
Jon looked at them, not truly believing what they were saying but just sighed, again, and headed to the bathroom. He liked those three and if he knew Arya, which he did, she was going to like them too. He had nothing to worry about.
The sudden sound of glass breaking, Grenn's laughter and Sam's voice yelling Don't worry, Jon, I'll clean that! had him reconsidering his own judgement.
Why did I chose to live with those three?
He showered quickly and got dressed whilst walking through the apartment, looking for his phone, his wallet, his keys, his glasses. The guys just laughed at how he jumped around in one feet, trying to put on a boot on the other; or how he nearly dropped a lamp when he put on his jacket whilst he held the keys with his teeth.
Once he was ready, he opened the door and turned to look at the three maniacs still in pajamas, hanging around in the kitchen. He said goodbye, resisting the urge to ask them again to keep the place clean while he was gone, and walked out towards his car.
The drive to the airport was uneventful, no traffic slowing him down. He made good time and arrived slightly earlier than he intended. He was about to enter the airport when he saw a figure standing outside just a few steps away from where he had parked his car. Jon stopped and smiled when he recognized her.
Arya was slightly taller than he remembered, her hair definitely longer. She was holding a pack of cigarettes in her left hand, one hanging from her lips, her right hand inside her backpack, probably looking for a lighter.
"When did you start smoking?" his voice startled her and she turned around quickly to look at him, her eyebrows raised. Her hand removed the cigarette from her lips as she smiled.
"Jon!" her arms were around his neck in no time and he inhaled his scent as he hugged her back, the familiar smell making him smile in response. Yes, she was definitely taller. They broke apart and he also noticed her skin was now tanned, a soft golden glow where there used to be a silver one. Her eyes were as beautiful as ever, grey sparkling like silver metal and her breathtaking smile was just as he remembered.
"You look different," she said, her head tilting as he studied him.
He narrowed his eyes. "Don't change the subject. When did you start smoking, little wolf?"
She snorted playfully and placed the cigarette back on her lips, her right hand now holding the lighter she'd been looking for just seconds earlier and used it to light up her cigarette with a quick motion. The tip glowed red as she inhaled and as she stared at him almost defiantly. Jon laughed and shook his head, taking the cigarette from her lips.
She probably thought he was going to put it out and her eyes widened in surprise when instead he put it on his lips and inhaled as well. The tip glowed red again, the cigarette turning to ashes as he consumed it. He dropped his hand to the side and then flicked his thumb against the back of the cigarette to drop the ashes onto the floor.
Arya blinked, still surprised, and then laughed. "When did you start smoking? Or who convinced you to start smoking? It wasn't Robb, that's for sure."
Jon snorted at the image of Robb smoking—his cousin had grown obsessed with health and smoking was probably a sin in his eyes—and passed the cigarette back to Arya. "Ygritte."
She frowned. "Who's Ygritte?" when he didn't answer right away, she arched an eyebrow. "Girlfriend?"
He shrugged. "Sort of. I don't know if I can call her that."
She exhaled smoke, passing the cigarette back to him, and bit her lip. "Talking about people that you can't label as your official partner," her eyes drifted away, "I've been seeing a guy."
Jon choked and started coughing uncontrollably. Arya patted his back and he passed the cigarette back to her again, trying to hide his surprise under the excuse of the smoke. "You have?" he asked once he could breathe normally again. She nodded.
"His name is Jaqen."
"Wait, wait, wait," her eyes were still focused elsewhere and he narrowed his in suspicion. "Wasn't one of your teachers named Jaqen?"
She took a long drag from the cigarette and answered after a few seconds. "Maybe."
He groaned. "Arya."
"What? Is fun!" she looked at him this time, her eyes glowing with mischief. "And he's hot, and he has this sexy voice that—"
"I don't want to know more about it," Jon stopped her hastily and Arya smiled, took another long drag, and blew the cloud of smoke away, dropping the cigarette butt on the floor. "Aside from Jaqen," the name came out of his lips like a hiss that he couldn't avoid, "how's Braavos?"
"Is not the North," a melancholic note tainted her voice but it faded as quickly as it had showed up. "But it's amazing! Endlessly fascinating, the House of Black and White is one of the best places I've ever been in. The classes are so much fun, Jon. And you know how much I hate to be tied to a chair in a classroom. I think it's the best decision I've made in a long time"
He smiled. "I'm glad you are happy in your new University."
"So am I." Her eyes glinted with excitement now. "How's the Wall?"
Jon laughed, throwing his head back. Ever since he'd told her he was going to study at the Wall and join the military service, she'd wanted to see the campus, the Wall itself and the place he would live in. He'd been studying now for two years, just starting the third one as she started her first year of higher education in Braavos, and in all that time she hadn't been able to visit. Catelyn never truly let her; but now she was here, finally.
He grabbed her bag as she accommodated the backpack strapped to her shoulder and led her to the car. "See for yourself."
Her smile was brighter than the sun.
Now.
His hand is around her waist as they walk towards the Airport Car Rentals. She's carrying her luggage in her right hand, her left arm around his waist, as he's carrying his luggage over his shoulder.
She's excitedly telling him about her finals in the House of Black and White, and how she has realized she loves numbers even more now and how good she is at history of economic thoughts.
Her voice is fresh and happy and he just can't wipe the smile from his face. The feeling of peace in his heart, a feeling he hasn't feel in such a long time, makes him feel relaxed and comfortable. For once, he doesn't feel like he needs to run, like he needs to hurry.
Suddenly, she realizes towards where they are walking and slowly stops, frowning slightly. "I thought we were going to get a cab. Why do we need to rent a car if we are going to Winterfell?"
He smiles as he looks at her and she catches his intention immediately, her eyes coming to life with curiosity. "Oh, where are we going?"
Jon's smile widens. "It's a surprise. Actually, that's why no one has come to get us. I knew you weren't going to tell because you like to greet everyone at Winterfell, not at the airport, and I didn't tell anyone because we are not going home just yet. Not yet."
She starts walking again, practically dragging him with her. Jon laughs as he tries to follow her.
Arya always loved surprises and gifts.
Then.
The bar was more crowded than usual but Pyp and Grenn had saved their usual booth and drinks were already waiting for them at the table.
After picking her up at the airport, Jon had drove Arya to his apartment and showed her around. She'd met Sam there and took some time to rest. Then Jon took Arya, Sam with them, to their favorite bar in Mole's Town. The establishment lay beneath the ground, like half the town, and was a cozy, friendly place with good live acoustic music. Judging by the look in her eyes, she immediately fell in love with it.
He lead her to the table and both Grenn and Pyp stood up to greet her.
"Little wolf, this is Grenn," Jon said as Grenn kissed her hand. Arya snorted, "and this is Pyp." He literally bowed to her and Arya chuckled as she shook her head. "Guys, this is Arya."
"Nice to finally meet the Arya," Grenn said smiling widely. He then leaned closer to whisper in Jon's ear, away from Arya's hearing range. "You never said she was so hot."
Jon just smiled trying his best to look nonchalant even though a part of him wanted to growl at his friend, knowing what the look on his eyes meant. Don't you even think about it. Grenn apparently read his eyes and just shrugged in an apologetic manner, smiling amused.
Before they could take a seat, Jon felt a hand on his arm and he turned to see who it was. Blue-grey eyes smiling at him, Ygritte was standing right beside him with an arched eyebrow. She greeted him with a kiss before he could say anything.
"Ygritte."
She opened her mouth to say something but Arya spoke first. "You are the famous Ygritte? Hi! I'm Arya."
Ygritte's eyes lighted up in recognition when she heard the name. "So you are Jon's cousin," she threw her head back as she laughed. "You are just as pretty as he is."
Arya snorted, looking at Jon amused. He could read her eyes. A redhead? He shook his head almost imperceptibly. Shut up.
"I saw the fanciest car parked outside and I knew Jon Snow was inside," Ygritte said, still laughing.
"Is not that fancy," he answered rolling his eyes as they all took a seat; Ygritte on one side of him, Arya on the other.
"Jon Snow?" Arya asked confused and Jon laughed loudly, quickly, to drown the answer of any of his friends.
"Not important, little wolf. Not important."
By the look on her eyes, he knew she was going to get the story out of him sooner or later.
"Arya, do you drive a car as fancy as Jon's around your University?" Grenn asked as he took a sip of his beer. Arya took a sip of Jon's beer, completely ignoring what could be classified as a girly drink in front of her. Drink that Sam took once he saw Arya had ignored it.
"The streets of Braavos are too narrow for a car," she smiled then. Her crooked, mysterious smile, the one that spoke of trouble. "I drive a motorcycle instead."
Grenn whistled and Pyp sighed almost adoringly. "I'm your biggest fan right now."
Ygritte leaned closer to Arya, almost passing over Jon to do so. "Really?"
"Yeah. In Braavos I have the Honda NC700X. Not the coolest but—"
"Safety is more important than coolness," Jon chimed in, sounding much like his uncle Ned. Arya rolled her eyes playfully.
"I guess that's why you bought it for me."
"Exactly."
"Then why did you buy the other one for me as well?"
Jon sighed. "Because I have issues telling you no."
Arya giggled, a sound he had heard coming out of her mouth once or twice in his whole life, her eyes sparkling beautifully. He couldn't help but smile in response.
"He also bought me the Aprilia Tuono V4R, though that one is at Winterfell," she made a delighted sound at the back of her throat. "The speed on that bike is unreal! Riding the Tuono feels like riding a racehorse. And you guys should hear it purr. Best sound in the whole wide world."
Grenn looked directly at Jon and said aloud. "Your cousin is so hot."
Jon just covered his eyes with his hand as Arya laughed loudly. "Gods, I miss the Tuono. Though a friend in Braavos has the Dorsoduro, so I haven't been Aprilia deprived."
Jon raised his eyes to look at her. "You've been riding the Dorsoduro? That bike is like a raging bull. The slightest input error and the front or back end are going to come off the ground!"
"Yes!" she said excitedly, completely ignoring his mild horror. "Now I ride in only one wheel like a complete pro."
He stuttered, looking more horrified by the second. "I got you the Honda so you wouldn't do dangerous shit like that!"
"Oh, come on. You've done things ten times more dangerous whilst you were racing your Super Duke."
All of his friends made a surprised sound at the same time, Sam's voice rising above the others. "You race motorcycles?"
"He didn't tell you?" Arya asked innocently.
"I have a KTM 990 Super Duke R back at home and I raced a few times. That's it."
"More like won a few times. You raced hundreds of times."
Ygritte laughed, delighted. "I need to see that someday. Why didn't you bring that instead of the Audi Q7 parked outside?"
He shrugged. "The Audi is more practical"
"More practical, he says," Grenn and Pyp murmured at the same time, equal looks of surprise and fascination on their faces.
Arya stood up. "I'll be getting a few more beers, I drank yours."
Before he could say anything, Ygritte stood up as well. "I'm coming with you."
He watched them both walk towards the bar and chat amicably. They seemed to get along. Somehow, a deep, deep part of his heart was annoyed. He couldn't tell why. Not at all. And, after a while, he denied the existence of that part of his heart.
The drinks kept flowing, though he avoided most of them. He was the designated driver after all. So he watched how his friends got drunk, Arya and Ygritte holding more liquor than Sam, Pyp and Grenn together; and he laughed along the way. He had missed Arya more than he'd realized and now that she was there with him he noticed how much he would miss her once she left. She was in Westeros for just a week and she was spending three days, the weekend, with him, the other four with the rest of the Starks in Winterfell. Not for the first time he wished he could go to Winterfell with her, but he was in the middle of the semester and his classes would continue as normal on Monday.
Following her to Winterfell was not a chance.
The night dragged on and when Arya started showing signs of being drunk, which happened after a surprising amount of alcohol—for someone that could be considered small, it was impressive how much liquor she could tolerate before getting tipsy—, he decided it was time to go home.
They all climbed in his car; Grenn, Pyp and Sam pretty much passing out, but Arya and Ygritte decided to take over the back seat, pushing Pyp against one side, Grenn against the other, leaving Sam on the seat next to Jon. The were laughing and trying to follow the songs on the radio, but neither of them were much of a fan of pop music, and they didn't know the words. At the end it was just about making noise and moving around.
He left Ygritte in her dorm in Queensgate and started driving home. After Ygritte had gotten down, Arya had convinced Sam to move to the backseat, and she was now sitting next to him. She had put one of his CDs on the music player, hard rock ballads and glam metal coming out of the speakers. She was silent now, one of her hands moving in the air as she followed the rhythm of the sorrowful guitar.
Sam, Pyp and Grenn had passed out completely in the backseat, the three of them tangled together as they slept. Arya turned the volume even higher, knowing it wouldn't wake them up and reclined her seat a little bit. She turned her head to look at him as he drove and, even though he didn't take his eyes off the road, he could see her sparkling grey eyes like stars on her face.
He turned left towards the tunnel that would get them home faster and accelerated slightly. Darkness took over the car, passing lights illuminating them briefly and constantly, a light each passing second, as he drove. Jon looked at Arya sideways just as the yellow light passed over her face, the light staying a little bit longer on her glassy eyes.
"Jon," she called softly, hoarsely.
"Yes?" he asked after he gulped. The sound of her voice had brought memories back. Memories of nights he had forced himself to forget. Memories that tasted like whisky and secrets.
"I don't want you to date her."
He didn't need to ask to know who was she talking about. The part of his heart that had been annoyed when he saw her being so friendly with Ygritte rejoiced in satisfaction. He couldn't tell why. Not at all. And, obviously, after a while, he denied the existence of that part of his heart.
"Why?" he wanted to say something else, he didn't know what. Maybe it was for the best if he didn't say it anyway.
Arya laughed. Her laugh sounded much like pain. "I just don't want you to. I know is selfish and stupid and—gods, is so stupid." She turned her head the other way and he grabbed her hand.
"Okay."
"What?" she refused to look at him, but he knew her whole attention was on him. Her hand squeezed his.
"I won't date her." She did look at him then, her eyes studying him through her eyelashes. "But I don't want you dating Jaqen."
She smiled. "I'm not dating Jaqen."
"Dating, touching, kissing, fucking; I don't care. I don't want you with him." His voice was akin to a deep growl, the hand grabbing the steering wheel tightening.
Arya leaned closer to him, her chin resting on his shoulder. "Why?"
"Because it pisses me off." The honest answer came out of his lips before he could stop it.
She bit her lip and, after a few seconds, sighed. "Deal."
He gulped. "Deal."
She leaned even closer and pressed a kiss to his neck. Soft, barely a touch, but it electrified his body all the same. His hand passed from holding hers to caressing her thigh. She nuzzled his neck the rest of the way.
Once they got home, Jon promised himself to carry on with their deal but to forget everything else that had happened in that car. It was for the best.
After all, he just had two more days with Arya.
Now.
"Why did you hang up?" he asks out of nowhere, but he just can't keep it in him anymore without voicing it out.
They are sitting in the car as he drives through the kingsroad highway, right next to the train railway that connects the North with the capital and Arya is fumbling around with the map, trying to figure out where is he taking her.
She turns to look at him, the map forgotten on her hands. "What? What are you talking about?"
"When I called you and told you about enlisting for war," he had thought he hadn't mind that much in the moment but, the more he thinks about it now, the more he realizes it bothered him, it hurt him.
Arya bites her lip and folds the map in four, putting it in the glove compartment. She reclines in her seat, her hand going through her hair, her eyes on the road. A few seconds pass and then she sighs.
"You called me out of nowhere to tell me you were joining what could potentially kill you," she sounds shaky. "Wait, no, let me rephrase that: you called me to let me know you had already decided to enlist. You had already made the decision and I—" she sighs again. "I hung up because I didn't want you hear me cry and curse and have a panic attack. So I said be safe and hung up. I couldn't think of anything else to do."
"You could've called after that," his voice is a mere whisper.
"I did. I called Robb and asked him to keep me posted with everything regarding you. I just couldn't speak with you. I didn't want you to say goodbye or something like that. I couldn't live normally knowing you had said goodbye because you couldn't die if you hadn't said goodbye, right?"
He looks at her briefly, trying to hide an incredulous smile.
"Oh, shut up. It was stupid, I know." She tilts her head. "At least I didn't hang up when you called me to tell me you were back at the Wall. To tell me you were injured, but alive. To forbid me to go an see you."
"I was stable and you were in finals and I was mad because you hung up."
He takes her hand—holding her hand whilst he drives is the only reason he has asked for an automatic vehicle—and caresses her fingers. She looks at their hands and then at him.
"I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry too. But I am here now and I am not going anywhere."
She practically throws herself at him in her haste to hug him and Jon laughs. He keeps on driving, the tension in his chest now gone. Suddenly, he feels Arya smile.
"What?"
"You are taking me to Seagard."
They are going through the Neck still and he hasn't even taken the turnoff towards the Twins Bridge, but of course Arya already figured it out. Of course. He smiles and says nothing. She needs no confirmation.
Then.
Gunshots resonating everywhere, the smell of blood in the air, adrenaline pumping through his blood; ironically, war was just how he pictured it to be. Deadly and stressful, and chaotic. Something he craved to end, something he needed to end.
He thinks back at the moment he decided to join the soldiers heading to war. He had been in training for as long as many of the ones already in battle had been and the only thing he had to do to march north of the wall was join the list of soldiers heading out. He knew he had to, his soul begging him to do it.
It was a war to protect all those people that lived south of the wall and that included the Starks in Winterfell. It was a comfort, at least, to know that Arya remained safe in Braavos.
The Free Folk attacking the Wall was nothing new, so nobody really expected the war to drag on this long. But this time the wildlings had made sure to be ready, they had organized, they had figured out a plan; unlike all those other times they'd declared war.
He still remembered the look on Ygritte's face when the news spread out. Those were her people out there and she was standing in the wrong side. It was no surprise to anyone, really, when she disappeared not two days later. He had broken things up with her the same day Arya left for Winterfell and they had spoke little after it; but he expected her to leave. He knew she would leave.
And then he had known he would leave too. He needed to fight, he needed to be there, he couldn't just sit around at the Wall and do nothing.
So there he was in the middle of war, chaos around him, his heart beating against his ribcage. He had to move or he would get shot, but it was snowing too profusely. He was practically blind and the winds were rising.
Just when he finally made up his mind, just when he was about to move, a deafening sound exploded around him. He closed his eyes in instinct, his hands moving to cover his ears.
White exploded behind his eyelids and a buzzing sound took over his ears, growing in intensity till he could hear nothing else. His body felt lighter and lighter and lighter, till he couldn't feel it at all. The cold he had been feeling decreased and a new smell suddenly reached his nostrils. The smell of salt, and fresh air. The smell of the sea.
His hearing returned gradually. First, the buzzing started to disappear and then the sound of crashing waves invaded his mind. The occasional squealing of seagulls joined the cacophony of sounds. Humid air brushed his hair and he finally opened his eyes.
He was standing on a sidewalk in the waterfront of Seagard. He could tell by the castle in the distance. He looked at the northern sea, brushing the shores meters behind him, drops of water reaching so high it almost touched him up there, leaning against the rail.
A figure joined him in the edge of the waterfront, hands grasping the rail of classic architecture style. He turned to look and Arya's face greeted him. She was dressed in a grey t-shirt, the logo of some rock band on her chest. The t-shirt was cropped in several places, as if a beast with sharp claws had attacked it. A leather jacket covered her shoulders. It was his. She was also wearing her old favorite jeans and her usual combat boots.
She smiled and he recognized the place, he recognized the moment.
It was the travel to Riverrun, back when he was seventeen. Aunt Catelyn's father was getting worse after being sick for years and they had travelled south after her. She had travelled with Sansa, Robb and Bran in the train that ran through the kingsroad a day earlier. Uncle Ned, Rickon, Arya and him joined later with the cars.
They'd been travelling for what felt like forever, so Uncle Ned had offered a detour after talking with Catelyn. Seagard was a nice place and they could stop to have lunch and just relax a few hours by the sea. He and Rickon had gone looking for ice cream, even though the weather looked to be getting colder by the minute, and Jon and Arya had stayed behind, looking at the sea.
That day Jon had kissed Arya for the first time. Neither had talked about it afterwards, and both had pretended it had never happened. Of course, it wasn't the last time they kissed. Not even close.
She took his hands and brought him back from his memories.
"Jon," one of her hands came to rest on his chest, her eyes calling him in silence. "You can't leave me without telling me."
He frowned, confused. "What?"
"You can't die if you haven't told me you are in love with me. You just can't."
"I don't think I can control that now, little wolf." He smiled sadly. I am dying. A bomb detonated and now I am dying, he realized, expecting to feel fear. He felt nothing. If his last moments before dying where next to Arya, he didn't mind so much. Not now that there was nothing he could do.
"If you love me, won't you let me know? Won't you ever tell me, Jon?" her voice pierced through him like a bullet. Won't you ever tell me?
He cradled her face in his hands and looked at her through half-closed eyes. He felt so tired. "You are in love with me too, little wolf. If you love me, why'd you let me go? You let me come to war without saying a word."
She reached up and kissed him softly. She spoke with her lips still touching his. "I guess we are both at fault. But now is in your hands. Come home. Come to me and tell me you love me. Come home, Jon".
Now is in your hands. Come home.
He felt himself drift away, but this time what took him was darkness instead of light. No noise came out to greet him and he fell in a deep, peaceful sleep. He was numb.
Now.
It's a cold day and the sea is restless. They get out of the car and that's the first thing they hear. The sea, the waves crashing in the shore like the roaring of a beast. Arya smiles delighted.
She's always been fond of an angry sea.
They walk together closer to the edge and he takes her hand, their fingers intertwining. She closes her eyes, facing the sea to feel the air on her face. He looks at her. Her face is relaxed, her lips curving on a small, happy smile. Her skin is still tanned because of the Braavosi sun and it seems to shine even though the sun is hiding under clouds today.
It's not what the majority of people would call a pretty day—the sky is grey, the clouds make everything look darker, the sun is nowhere to be seen—but he thinks is perfect nonetheless.
For a second he thinks about his father. He thinks about Rhaegar proposing to Lyanna, he thinks about the alleged love story that holds so much beauty it's details remain secret, unknown. The only ones who truly know what happened between them is Rhaegar and Lyanna themselves. And he wonders if his father loved his mother as much as Jon loves Arya. He wonders if Rhaegar used to stare at her mother's face and think that such beauty shouldn't exist. He wonders if Rhaegar deemed all the tragedy that surrounded their story as worth it. He wonders what were his father's last thoughts as he died in that accident next to his mother.
He wonders if Arya and him had been in their circumstances, would have they done things differently?
He thinks they would have. He thinks they wouldn't be as selfish or as reckless; but he also thinks that that doesn't mean their love is not as great or not as strong. Maybe even more so.
"You remember the last time we were here?", the wind carry his words away but she hears them. He knows because she opens her eyes and looks at him, her intense stare studying every detail.
"Yes."
He smiles and his finger caresses her face. From her cheekbone through her jaw to her chin. She is looking at him intently, waiting for his next move.
When he kisses her, she doesn't seem surprised at all. She answers him immediately, her hands grabbing the front of his shirt as his arm circles her waist. He tilts her head a little bit to kiss her more deeply and her lips part.
This kiss is nothing like their first one. Their first kiss was an innocent one, doubtful, brief. This kiss is desire hidden for years, this kiss is love kept in the shadows fighting for light. This kiss is desperation and fear, this kiss is relief and happiness, this kiss is freedom.
Her tongue caresses his and they both tremble at the same time. She pulls away, biting his lower lip in the process. They are breathless.
"Arya," as soon as her name leaves his lips, she's kissing him again. One of his hand finds his way to the back of her head, fingers intertwining in her hair; his other hand is under her shirt, touching the heated skin of her back. "Arya," he tries again. She kisses him one more time, this time just a brush of her lips on his.
"Yes?"
He smiles. "I am in love with you." He laughs once he realizes she has said it with him at the same time and there's a satisfied glint in her eyes that tells him she already knew.
"How do you know that's what I was going to tell you? Am I that obvious? Am I that predictable?".
She kisses him again and he complies happily. He could kiss her all day. The wind swirls around them and she inches closer, seeking warmth. They part for air.
"You are a helpless romantic, Jon. If you brought me here for a reason, it was to tell me that you are in love with me."
"Where would you have told me?"
Arya shrugs. "The airport, as soon as I saw you."
He sighs, feigning frustration. "No sense of romance whatsoever."
"Does that mean we are travelling to Seagard on every anniversary and all that bullshit?"
"Hell yes. Obviously. Every single time." She's already wrinkling her face in fake disgust, her eyes holding a mocking edge and he arches an eyebrow. "Even if a have to drag you here."
She laughs and kisses him again. Jon thinks nothing tastes better but her laugh on his mouth.
A/N: Don't ask why I chose Seagard. I just picked the map of Westeros, looked for White Harbor and then looked for places close to White Harbor and my eyes caught Seagard so, yeah...
Anyways, thank you for reading! And, please, leave a review! I would love to know your opinion about this work. Even if it's just one word, I would appreciate it all the same. I'll write a sequel of this, on Arya's POV this time, but I don't know when so bare with me :)
Lots of love!