I Am Not a Woman, I'm a God - Jonerys [18+]

You want to taste and see and drink from my cup

She cleared her throat and took a deep swallow of her wine, draining it before dropping the empty goblet to the floor, voice tentative once she trusted herself to speak "What was he like?"

"He was one of the best men I ever knew. He hated all that befell your family and that he couldn't be there to advise you. He told me once that love is the death of duty and the bane of honor, that neither compared to love. I didn't fully understand it until you."

She couldn't help but feel a little offended, knowing how much his honor meant to him, and Jon must've seen it cross her face before she could smother it.

"Before you, all I had was honor and duty. I clung to it. But now, I understand why he said they were just hollow words when we have been fashioned for love. A life with none is an empty one."

"He sounds like he was a wise man. Did people respect him?" She said and smiled, reaching out to thread her fingers through his and squeeze.

"He was, and they did. He was a great man. Not even those that hated me would disrespect him when he helped name me Lord Commander."

She huffed, anger bubbled up her throat like steam at the thought of his treatment at the hands of those who hated him. She had to bite her tongue to keep it from scalding the one who didn't deserve it.

"Were they the ones that did this to you?" She asked, lifting their joined hands to his scarred chest, the sight of them still disturbing and infuriating her. Each deep gash just reminded her that he wasn't supposed to be here. She might have never known him. The thought chilled her soul.

Jon nodded, eyes softening at her reaction. "They ambushed me. Lured me outside, claimin' one of the Wildlings had spoken of my Uncle Benjen. They took it in turns. 'For the Watch.'"

She closed her eyes and sighed through her nose, every part of her screaming at her to find their bones and roast them to ash. But it wouldn't fix anything, only give the fury she felt on his behalf a satisfactory outlet. As it was a night for confessions, she hunted for something to share with him and take his mind off knives in the dark. Opening her eyes to meet his as she dove in.

"Your brother, Bran, he's been sending me ravens. They're terribly cryptic, and I haven't made sense of most of them. He was staunch in his belief that we must be together and the dragon must have three heads. Which is why I've been thinking about who your mother might've been."

Jon blinked, brows creasing, and she braced herself for his reproach at her keeping something from him, but he surprised her.

"I am glad he's supportive. But I don't know if I can help you make sense of them. I don't know him as he is now... Why didn't you tell me about them before?"

She shook her head, lifting a shoulder in a lazy shrug, "I didn't plan to hide them from you forever. With the first one, I wanted time to come to terms with everything, and then everything had to be hurried along. I used it as an excuse to keep it from you. I'm sorry. I'm used to being alone and only trusting in myself. You were a surprise. One I'm grateful for every day."

He smirked a little, just enough that she could tell he wasn't upset, and she felt the weight of that small secret bleed out of her on her next exhale.

"Independent. Bossy. Hard headed. That's why I fell for you. I don't need to know every small thing, but the things you do want to share? I want to know all of that." He said simply, and she had no arguments.