See the stone set in your eyes
See the thorn twist in your side
I wait for you
Sleight of hand and twist of fate
On a bed of nails she makes me wait
And I wait... without you
He sat by the fireplace and would always impose a respectable distance between them. The solemn and angular face observed the fire in silence, and so could stay for hours until they were certain that no one else was awake at Castle Black or in ear shot. Only then they would talk.
What they said did not make much sense. Conversations were brief, whispered and whatever they asked each other was permanently full of gloom and despair. However, in the answers muttered in a cold room, there was a portion of comfort.
Different roads can lead to the same castle and even thought everything was very much changed, Arya was grateful to be there.
Analyzing his face, she discovered lines that were not there in a past that did not seemed so distant. He had barely completed twenty years, nonetheless he looked so severe and experienced as her father ever was. Arya just hoped this did not mean that he would leave her too soon.
Everyone must die, she knew it. Yet, something in the cold of the North and the Wall seemed to have hardened Jon, just as fire hardens steel. Something in him was cold and immutable as the faces carved in the trees, bringing the same feeling of peace. She had so little of it in herself… This peace he had settled in his eyes.
Jon looked at her with curiosity smiling slightly. The scar above his left eye did more wrinkles in his face, making his expression amused. That was when she realized she have being staring at him for too long.
He reached his hand toward her and Arya walked up to him quickly, with steps as light as the ones of a cat. The burned hand had a unpleasant aspect, but it did not matter. It was Jon, and everything in him was welcome and necessary to keep her humanity safe.
- Is my sight so bad that now you have to stare, little sister? – He asked in a whisper, the question making her feel uncomfortable.
- No. I just… I just got distracted. I was thinking about something else. – she answered reaching to touch the scar above his eye with her fingertips. – Does it hurt?
- No. – Jon answered serene, covering her hand with his own, interlacing their fingers. – The hand, however, bother when it's too cold.
- That means all the time – She laughed a muffled laugh without humor. He nodded – Want me to apply some ointment on it?
- There is no need. Thank you. – he replied politely – Would you like to sit closer to the fire?
- I am fine. No need to worry. – Arya responded while Jon touched her fingers with care.
- Your hand is cold. – he answered – Sit here. – instead of pulling her own chair towards him, she sat on the floor still holding Jon's hand.
Again silence filled the space between them. Their swords were on the table of the room. The armors would be left for tomorrow. In that instant there was only the security of the presence and silence of each other. Arya knew what that mean.
With or without you
With or without you
Through the storm we reach the shore
You give it all but I want more
And I'm waiting for you
- What are you thinking? – She asked staring at the fire.
- That they will soon find out my steward is a girl. – Jon replied seriously – I don't know until when, Arya. Things are getting dangerous and I don't know if I can hide you for so long.
- I can defend myself. - She replied as he leaned his head against his chair's arm. – You don't need to worry about me all the time.
- I was worried even before you start walking – He replied caressing her disheveled hair – There are things I cannot help from happening.
- There are things that should not be avoided. – She said closing her eyes. He smelled of leather, pine and ice. She liked how the smell soothed her.
- What should not be avoided? - He asked.
- You cannot avoid the risk of me being caught because I think the risk is worth. – She steadily replied – You cannot prevent them to feel suspicious. We live in the same quarters, we talk in whispers, always trading secrets like two lovers.
- It would be inappropriate enough to have you here disguised as a recruit. – He said smiling a lifeless smile. – Be your lover would be even more inadequate.
- And who cares about what is appropriate or not? – She stared into his eyes as Jon lifted her chin gently. Brushing his lips against hers, caressing her cheek that was beginning to gain a distinct shade of pink.
- Surely you never cared. – his breath had the aroma of spiced wine and seemed to suck all the air she had inside her lungs. – You were always to rebel for your own good, little sister.
- And you always encouraged me. – She took her hand to his face, feeling the shape of his scar and tracing his face until she reached the outline of his stubble.
- It was always beautiful to see – He said, closing his eyes.
- What was? - She insisted.
- Your verve. – He replied imitating the wind – A part of my life has always depended on you, as if I were a candle and you the flame.
Arya stood up then, and like a cat, slipped into his lap to mess with his hair and feel a little bit more of heat. Jon did not complain, he simply put his arm around her waist letting her head fall on his shoulder.
- Sometimes I would like to forget everything I am. – He whispered – No votes, no obligations, nothing to tell me who I am or was.
- What good this would bring? – She asked by his ear.
- All of this would not be so wrong – He said throwing his head back.
- If that happened, you would not be Jon Snow and I wouldn't… - She said pausing for a moment.
- Would not, what? – He asked curiously staring into her eyes.
- I would not love you if you were any different. - She whispered.
- I would still love you. – He said – And I would be able to tell it to the world instead of hiding in whispers like an ordinary lover.
- I find that attractive. The danger makes everything much more appealing. – She slid her hands over the buttons of his clothes, unbuttoning them one by one.
With or without you
With or without you ohoo
I can't live
With or without you
And you give yourself away
And you give yourself away
And you give
and you give
And you give yourself away
He hugged her tightly by the waist as Arya hid her face in the back of his neck. She left fleeting kisses there, pulling away the layers of his clothing until she could feel his chest against the palms of her hands. He was warm and soft.
- You will always hinder my choices, will you not? – He whispered as his cold and hardened fingers lose the knots of her clothes. The warmth of her exposed back against his burned hand relieves the pain and causes chills.
- I did not make it difficult when you choose to take the black. – She said against his neck. Jon took a deep breath.
- I was a good actor back then. – He whispered pulling her sleeves free and leaving her upper body bare. Only bandages concealed her still small breasts – I thought about going back so many times. I thought about quitting every time I remembered that I might never have seeing you again.
- I would have liked to have you nearby. – She hugged him, sliding her fingers under his shirt.
Jon got up from his chair carrying her in his arms as if she did not weigh more than a doll. It was what she looked like near him. Like a clumsy rag doll. The cold began to affect her and Arya caught herself trembling between his arms, hiding her face against his partially exposed chest.
Jon placed her in the bed, right in the middle of the skins that helped to keep them warm on nights like that. When he turned his back to her, trying to rid himself of his boots, Arya burst the bands that hid her breasts feeling an instant relief.
She hugged herself trying to keep the heat on her, nevertheless soon she was shaking while he was removing the heavier parts of his outfit with the patience of a Septon. He lost all train of thought for a split second when he turned to face her.
- What… - He stared at her confused. Soft touches, and lips that found each other almost by accident and nights spent sleeping in each other's arms were the farther he allowed himself to get. That… That was crossing all boundaries and she knew exactly what she was doing.
Once again she touched his scars, kissing them one by one. She ran her hand through his dark hair, felt his cold and clean scent. Heat… They both needed to feel a little bit warm that night, before the dream ended and he decided it was too risky to keep her hidden.
Her mouth touched his in a treacherous game. She was playing with fire, a fire which he believed to be extinct within him. The problem of playing with fire is that soon or later you will end up burned.
Never interrupting their kiss, Jon laid her in the bed again. She tasted like spices, the same ones the cookers used to mulled the wine and season the cakes in the kitchen. Surrounded by the ice of the North, she tasted and smelled like the lands of summer. Arya encouraged him, daring him to go further with kisses that were very hard to resist.
- What do you think you are doing? – He asked, breathlessly, leaning over her completely.
- I just need heat. - She whispered to him in a secret – a little bit of heat. - And he could hardly deny her that. There was always very little he could deny her anyway.
My hands are tied
My body bruised, she's got me with
Nothing to win
and nothing left to lose
With the agility of the flapping wings of a bee, Arya unbuckled his belt. Jon was soon returning the favor. She was trembling and he was not sure if it was just the cold that made her tremble, nonetheless he laid alongside her pulling her close.
The sensation was of fullness. There were endless questions in his mind when she was the one who caressed him. There was no reason for endless comparisons, because she was always the referential for everything else. Names like Ygritte were banished from his mind and all that remained was the happiness and the unrestrained feeling of having a place to call home. A place where he was loved and desired.
And all she ever wanted was to feel the same.
For the first time both were naked before each other. It was the end of the illusion that the feeling did not know gender. The role of each one was very clear and that opened space for a new kind of holiness, a new type of worship. They were not siblings anymore, if they ever were siblings at all. They were simply man and woman.
Hands roamed over their bodies, exploring and rediscovering all that was need to know about them. It was not a mere case of desire guiding the shots, that actions were extremely necessary to redefine concepts. They kissed like there was no tomorrow, pleaded as the condemned, muffled inconvenient sounds, they were playing with all of their senses. And the world seemed totally irrelevant.
She have asked for heat and he granted her wish. However, inside of her he felt two steps away from the seven heavens and the seven hells at the same time. In the freezing cold she was consuming him in flames that only he could feel.
Jon covered her mouth preventing the hums to go too high as he threw himself in her.
Legs, arms, hands, fingers, mouths, tongues, teeth were all mingled in a single tangle of limps and sensations. Moans, groans, whispers, uncontained cries and the sound of flesh crashing against flesh. Undeniable and irresistible, heat.
At the end she was still in his arms. Sore and exhausted, his body was covered by a thin layer of sweat, yet nothing in the world could be better than that. Jon was playing with a lock of her hair and once again the silence filled the entire room.
- What are you thinking? – She broke the silence once more. He breathed deeply feeling her hand resting above his heartbeat.
- That I cannot take you away from here now. – He said – not without at least going mad.
- Even after all this, you still want to see me away, do you not? – She sounded hurt and Jon hurried to kiss her again, in an attempt to dismiss the idea of rejection.
- I do not want you to go away! – He said quickly – I'm just saying that we have to admit, that this has become too dangerous.
- Let's forget it for now, just for tonight. – She asked in a whisper – I do not want to say goodbye again.
- And how many more nights will come later? And how many times we will run from this question? – He was now anxious – What if… Gods, what if I have made a bastard in you? I could not bear the idea of having a bastard with any woman and with you it is simply intolerable.
- Ssshhhiii! – She kissed him again – I will be fine. And if that happens, I will move to the next village, back to being only a girl and have a baby. And he will not be a bastard, he will be just continuing the family name. He will be as his father, a Snow.
- That's not funny, Arya. – He spoke seriously embracing her even tighter.
- I will think about that some other time. – She replied closing her eyes - For now I just want to sleep here.
- You little wild woman. - He muttered.
- That's why you like me. - She laughed softly - And if I go away, I'll miss you again.
- With or without you ... I still do not know what kind of life is more difficult.
When the night became silent again, Jon closed his eyes and handed himself to her heat. He thought that perhaps he should tell her he loved her, but eventually agreed that it was always very clear to both of them.
And you give yourself away
And you give yourself away
And you give
and you give
And you give yourself away
With or without you
With or without you
I can't live
With or without you
Note: This is a translation of a fic of mine originally written in Portuguese and it was only possible thanks to a great friend and amazing translator, Nani. I don't own any of the characters and have no profit from this story. I've asked Nani to translate in order to grant some lovely readers wish, since their mother language is English. I hope you enjoy and give me some feedback about not only the translation, but the story as well.
Bee