This is quite AU.
The GOT universe belongs to George R. R. Martin.
I will try and update as much as I can...please be gentle - this is only my second fanfic.
I've had two versions of this story going on in my brain for a while. I may post the other one at a later date.
I'm into Jon/OC stories as of late...and I just love Tyrion.
Let's see how this evolves.
Enjoy...
*Present*
1:
"Myra," Jon whispered.
"Shhh. Shhh. It'll be alright," he cooed, coaxing her as she cried in his arms.
"I'm here now. It's going to be okay," Jon gently said.
She was wrapped around him in furs. Her first nightmare here at Castleblack. She had nightmares before on the road. She thought they would end once she reached Jon. Jon then nestled his chin under her hair, brushing away her falling strands from her face.
Tyrion had heard her cries. He had shot up quickly out of his bed just as Jon did, but as always Jon was there first. He listened through the door as she whimpered like a lost puppy. He wished he could be that man Myra needed and depended on, that man to protect her and keep her safe, but he was not. He was afraid he never would be. He had never seen Myra cry like this. He had never heard the young wolf's screams such as this. That damn Ramsay. That godforsaken piece of shit who had given here these night terrors Tyrion thought as he started to walk away from Myra's room.
"I'm sorry Jon," Myra whispered as she was still cradled in his arms.
Jon pulled her closer. He knew that Myra's nightmares would remain. He knew that the torture and evil that Ramsay Bolton had done to her had seeped into her bones and he longed to rid her of it. He longed to go back to the past and rescue her from the devil himself, tut there was no going back. He had no idea Myra had been alive, and yet all this time alive in Winterfell. The woman whom he had loved his entire life; whom he swore to protect, he had failed.
"There's nothing to be sorry about," Jon said as he pulled her face to his to look at her in the fire's light.
"I'm sorry I wasn't there. I'm sorry I didn't protect you. I swear to you he will never touch you again, Myra," Jon said wiping the tears from her cheeks as Myra looked at him providing a simple nod of understanding.
Jon then laid her down and wrapped her properly in her furs. Ghost lay by her feet at the edge of the bed. It was a bittersweet reminder for Myra to see a direwolf by her side protecting her again. Too much time had passed since she last saw her own direwolf Storm, or her brother Robb's direwolf, Greywind who remained by her side until Ramsay had killed him.
Myra slowly shut her eyes as Jon sat at her side with his hand over her head stroking her hair, waiting for her to shut her eyes. As Myra did, she looked peaceful finally. Jon then quietly slipped away and shut the door.