AN: I give many thanks to all of you very patient fan fiction readers! I fell out of musings with this story, and after a few months of inactivity, I've decided to continue it for you guys, and no worries! More sexy time will written~ Foxy
Chapter seventeen: Jon
It didn't take very long to get a flat, since the demand was low and the supply was very high in the Landing. Jon, Dany and a very old woman were the only inhabitants of the entire building, although some nights, Jon could hear people talking on the floor above them- among other noises of the night. The landlord was odd, for he referred to himself as Littlefinger and took pride in owning the biggest- and only- stripclub in the city. Often times he had offered Dany a job, pestering her to the point of frightening her, and would only cease when Jon would stalk up. She dismissed it as being harmless, expressing the urgency she had for standing up for herself; but Jon could see her hands shaking, and a protective wave of anger would flush over him almost every time the smaller man was within earshot.
The flat was clean and just big enough for both of them; the only things Jon absolutely hated were the five light switches placed randomly about the rooms and didn't belong to anything in particular, and the shower- which would produce only scalding or freezing streams of water. Otherwise, it was somewhat perfect.
Theon and Missie had been over the weekend before, helping them clean out the filth left behind by the tenants before- but they spent the whole time flirting and flicking paint at one another and were no help at all. Some furniture was rented; others- that were from Dany's duplex originally- were brought out of storage, where they had remained since Viserys' death. The chaise lounge smelt of cigarettes and the tables were sticky with aged alcohol, but nonetheless, they arranged it around until it felt like home. That was a week ago.
Jon leaned over the balcony in his pajama bottoms, a cigarette in his lips and the morning rain kissing his face. Here he could scarcely make out the border of the Stark Ranch, thinking back now to how Arya cried as she hid his suitcases, and how no one else had said a thing, except a goodbye in passing. He hadn't been there since. Maybe he'll go today to say hi and check on Ghost. Maybe he'll bring the dog up to live with them. Jon knew he was bigger than Littlefinger, so the landlord would have no choice but to comply. He then dwelled on whether or not they were ready for the responsibility of a large animal on top of maintaining a successful household. Then his mind wandered on to children.
From inside a fire alarm went off, and he could hear his girlfriend make noises of panic and cursing. Whatever she was baking was probably forgotten and left to burn, which was so unlike her- as were many things. She didn't seem herself these days. She no longer appeared indecisive or meek or small or soft spoken- these days she often demanded things and presented a snappy attitude. Jon couldn't complain, he was crazy for a feisty woman with a fire in her belly. But why she had taken on this new alias was nothing short of a mystery. Jon usually associated it with her menstrual cycle or lack of sleep.
He stepped back inside, his body tired and his hair messy with rain, calling into the brightly lit kitchen area. "What did you do?"
"It's this damn oven, I can't seem to figure it out," she sobbed out of frustration. She sat on the floor with the oven mitt wretched tightly in her fists.
"Just leave it, I've got it." He said to assure her, but her brows remained knitted. "I've got it."
"I just wanted to make cinnamon rolls." She sighed with defeat.
"I know. Come on, just leave it." He repeated, lifting her up onto her feet and leading her into their bedroom to lie down for the first time in two days. Since they had moved in, Dany hadn't gotten any sleep, almost always having night terrors and waking with a scream. She would never tell him exactly what the dreams were about, but he could guess it had something to do with the man who had murdered her brother.
He scrubbed the pan, yawning into the back of his suds covered hand and blinking away any sleep. It was six o'clock and he was supposed to meet his recruiter at eight. Coffee crackled loudly in the pot, and his cellphone buzzed on the counter, forcing him to leave the sink without much haste.
"Hello?" he said groggily, stifling another yawn.
"'ey Jon," Ygritte's voice was like bullet to the head, and for no reason at all, his stomached churned and he was upset. "Listen, I know it's been a while-"
"Yeah, it has." He replied gruffly; the short roughness took her by surprise, and an awkward chuckle sounded from the other line.
"Yeah, well. I just wanted you to know, everything's fine, there's nothing to worry about."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"There's nothing to worry about, I've taken care of it."
"Wh-" He stopped himself, and the realization felt sour and painful. "Are you okay? When did you…"
"A week ago." The phone failed to mask her voice cracking, "and yeah. Yeah- I'm good. It went without a hitch, and it doesn't hurt that much… honest..."
"I…" he started as his hand fell to his mouth, muffling his words considerably. "I don't think…"
"Look." Ygritte growled at him, as if it was all his fault- and to Jon, that's what it was. "It was my choice, okay? It's all fixed, so leave me alone! I don't need you judging me."
"I could have handled it Ygritte!" He yelped into the phone, turning to the room to make sure Dany hadn't heard. "I could have taken care of both of you."
"Yeah sure. Whatever, Jon. I've got to get to work, I'll talk to you later." And she hung up before he could reply. Jon desperately wanted to throw the phone across the room, slamming it unto the counter and strutting into the bedroom. He pulled out his P.T. clothes and slammed the drawer, waking Dany in the process.
"Jon…?"
"Sorry- I'm sorry. Go back to sleep," he said with an urgent sigh, pushing his hair from his eyes. He could let her see him cry, he couldn't let her know that he too was weak and could no longer be their foundation. Jon prayed it would pass over her, and she would let him be. But the creaking of the mattress announced her refusal, and he found her now in a sitting position.
"Come here." She demanded, but not in the playful way he was used to. Jon cautiously walked to her side of the bed, sitting down on the edge with his back facing her. Her hands laced themselves around his chest, and her cheek pressed to his bare shoulder. "I heard you talking… there's no reason to be upset. We've already talked about this."
"Yeah." He whispered, feelings flooding away into numbness. "I'm just upset that she didn't consult me first- it was my baby as much as it was hers... never mind, just- you go back to sleep… I've got to go to the recruit center."
"I don't want you to leave," her voice hummed against his skin and her hands tightened considerably.
"I've already rescheduled twice." He admitted, standing up and wiggling from her grip. And for the first time in a while, he decided to take responsibility for his own life choices- even if he really didn't want to go. "It's getting close to my date, and I haven't been to a single meeting."
"Please don't leave me…"
"I'm sorry." She sat quietly for a moment, before throwing herself back into the blankets. Jon wasn't sure if she was crying or not. He climbed out of his bottoms and put on his P.T. shorts and sweater, glancing back at the bed. All that was left of his girlfriend was her rear, and he slapped it with a forced smile, causing her to jump up with a yelp.
"Don't! I'm mad at you!" She warned with a sniffle, rubbing the area with urgency. Jon extended his arms.
"Give me a kiss, I'm leaving."
She weaseled her way back into the sheets with her brows knitted, and he let his arms fall to his sides with an audible smack.
"Fine. Whatever." He said as he dug under the bed for his backpack, slithering up and out the door. "See ya."
A thermos of coffee was stored in the band on the side of the bag, along with keys and his phone. Jon heard the patter of feet and he braced himself for impact.
"I love you!" Dany cried out as she ran into him, wrapping her arms tightly around his sweater clad body.
"Love you, too, give me a kiss."
And she did, gripping his face harshly as she peppered his barely stubbled face. "When you get back we're gonna do stuff, okay?"
"Stuff?"
"Yeah, good stuff, so don't be out longer than you need to."
"Okay," he said with a laugh, prying her off and swinging the door open. "After the- uh- good stuff, we're gonna go out to the Ranch if the rain isn't too bad, okay?"
"Okay," Danny agreed with a nod, her hair bounced and he could see the silvery glimmer of her roots. A genuine smile played on his lips, overwhelming Dany with desire. She pressed her lips to the corner of his mouth, repeating quickly, "I love you- don't forget."
"Yeah, I know, good stuff."
The meet up wasn't anything he couldn't handle, just running and working out. Just things Jon usually did, except now the rain was falling hard and his nose was turning cold. He was surprised to see Sam there, the boy was inspired by him and decided that was his calling too. But Jon just shook his head and thought it was a terrible idea, letting him know whenever the other boy was around.
"Hey Stark," a large man behind a desk called out, "MEPS is next weekend, don't forget- we'll come pick you up with a car."
"MEPS? So soon?" Jon said with a panic, fumbling with his bag. A medical examination was the step before boot camp, and now he found himself becoming nervous. All of his insides twisted up into a ball and his fingers quivered. "I'm not supposed to go for another month…"
"Yeah, well you've been bumped up. Bring some water; it's all the way in Dorne."
"Oh man, Jon." Sam sniffled, "it's getting close. I hope they don't send you to the 'Wall', it's the closest and shittiest camp. Shit, dude. That sucks."
"It's all too real." Was all he could get out, swinging his bag around his shoulders, both of them beginning their trek down the road. "MEPS... I should try to stop smoking, huh?"
"Yeah… Shit man."
"I've got to tell Dany. She won't be happy."
"Shit…"
"Will you stop saying that? You're freaking me out…"
"Oh, I'm sorry- it's just, you'll be in the Army in a few weeks, and then I'll be in the Army in a few months… I guess I'm freaking out too."
"You're such a dumbfuck,"Jon stated sternly to his heavier friend, "why did you join if you knew it was going to be this way?"
"Gilly urged me to, said we needed the money."
"Well, it's really not worth it. We're going to rot at the 'Wall', no Gilly to keep you warm for 4 damn years. How does that money sound now?"
"…shit…"
"Yeah." Jon turned to Sam, his brows knitted, "I'm going home, and I've got to find some way to break it to my girlfriend… any ideas?"
"Hm, just tell it to her straight. Girls don't like games."
"I don't think that's going to slow the blow," Jon mumbled, wiping his nose on his sleeve. He couldn't seem to imagine how Dany was going to act; the girl could either cry or release her anger. Anything but happiness was a possibility, and Jon didn't like the odds.
"Nothing can slow that blow," Sam stated, playing around with the drawstrings on his bag, "but good luck, Jon."
"Thanks," he returned but never really meant.
Jon opened the door to their flat, a brighter gloominess followed the dawn through the windows and rain could be overhead. Suddenly his bag and keys were much too heavy, and he could no longer will himself to carry them, letting them drop to the rug. "Dany?"
"I'm in here." A voice called from the bedroom.
"C'mere please."
"Nooo~ you come here." The voice sounded again, far more playful than before.
"I'm seriously not in the mood for games," he admitted harshly, and soon he could hear the slipping of the satin bedcover being pulled from the mattress. She stepped out into the open, adorned in the duvet with a single naked arm holding it together. It made Jon think of when he first had seen her, bundled on the roof of her house with her silver hair slipping off the roof. He stared at her, desperate to burn the image into his fleeting memories.
"Jon? What is it?" She asked finally, traces of worry drowned with in her words. "What's wrong?"
He didn't even want to tell her. The words sat in order and were caught in his throat. He couldn't tell her. She was pulled forward, and a kiss was all that he could do to keep himself from ruining the moment. A soft way, that was not at all lustful. But Dany went in with a little more motivation.
"No." He whispered under his breath as he pushed himself away, his fingers toying with her hair. "Just…"
"What's up?" She asked immediately, tipping her head so that she might look him in the face. "I thought we were going to have fun- why are you acting all mopey?"
"I'm just… ruminating."
"Ruminating?" Her voice lifted in the innocent but concerned way he so often adored, and soon the somberness the boy was feeling had burned away into eagerness.
"Never mind," Jon said, but her expression remained unchanging. His arms swooped up the duvet cover girl; the softness of her bare stomach was beneath his fingers as the satin blanket slipped away to reveal a nude upper torso, and she released a delighted giggle. She kissed his mouth over and over as they walked towards the bedroom. The blanket fell behind, remaining in the living room with the words that were never said.