Jon Snow had tasted but few women in his time and still he was sure that Elena tasted the sweetest. As he watched her lay beside him, the rise and fall of her chest, the half formed mumblings of forgotten dreams, he let a smile creep onto his lips. Perhaps he had been named Snow but he had never known the purity of it, he had been blood sodden since his birth. Elena though, Elena was water, she was a clear running stream. Not only was she pure and good herself but she cleaned away all that she touched, she had melted his frozen heart and washed away his wounds that had been beginning to fester.

She looked so peaceful when she slept, so very beautiful and so very sweet, but there was only so long that he could bare to watch her. Watching her sleep was like watching her life through a pane of glass and soon he would miss her so terribly. He wrapped one arm across her slender frame and pulled her close. She resisted his call to wake with a mumbled protest and despite himself, Jon smiled still. He brought himself close to whisper to her, so close that his lips grazed her ear.

"Elena."

He would say her name like a prayer, as though it was most the most precious word that his lips knew. This time he was rewarded with a soft chime of laughter when he teased her earlobe with his tongue.

"Jon."

Her eyes were still heavy and her voice soft from sleep but her body always came alive whenever she said his name. His other arm found its way to entwine her; he always did admire just how perfectly their bodies fit together. The world was never quite so cold when Elena was in his arms, with her body warming his.

"Elena?" his voice grew softer still, guiding Elena back towards the waking world. Her eyelids fluttered in response and she gave a soft hum, she always was so stubborn. To tease her still, his cold hands found the their way to the warmness between her legs. Finally her eyes fluttered open and found Jon's. He couldn't help but forget his words then, her skin was bad enough but her eyes were another matter entirely. Her eyes were soft like her skin but the skin never danced quite like her eyes, her skin couldn't make him weep or love or hope, it was her eyes that held that power. Although her skin did have a power of its own too.

Her sleepy limbs had found themselves waking under his touch and soon her hands were winding their ways through his hair and fingers were caressing soft flesh. It was such a task for Jon to remember his words then. His voice was huskier than he had intended when he finally found the words he had been chasing. "Elena… Elena," her name on his tongue was addictive but Jon had other words to speak and he must get them out. Onwards he struggled, all the while her eyes and skin distracting him so terribly. "Will you marry me?"

The light in her eyes could have lit the sky; the smile on her lips could have melted the coldest of mountains in the deepest depths of winter. A kiss was his only answer at first, their tongues were too preoccupied to try and find any words. In time they found strength though. Elena pulled herself out of the kiss, resting her forehead against Jon's while she caught her breath and set her tongue to another task.

"Yes."