GoT Imagines One-Shots and Drabbles

Trueborn Part 2 of 3 (Jon Snow x Baratheon Reader)

Jon had prepared himself for the inevitability of this news for a long time now, he had made his peace with it, accepted it long ago. A bastard of the north, a Snow, was in no way fit to even associate with a noble Lady let alone a Princess of Westeros. And yet, never could have he prepared himself for the sinking feeling taking hold of his heart, like the air had been knocked from his lungs. Maybe it felt that way because even though he denied it, deep down he knew how she felt about him. There was never any big declaration of love, as straightforward and curt as she was, she was smart enough to know that there was no fighting her betrothal to his brother, it would be a wasted battle. As a princess and the eldest daughter of the King, she needed a husband of the highest nobility and who better than the future ward of the North. Nevertheless, over the past few summers she spent at Winterfell, Jon had noticed subtle differences in her. Differences that he only noticed around him. The way she would stand just that little bit closer... or brush her hand against his, leaving it linger there a moment before pulling away... or the way she enjoyed making him blush, just by holding his gaze to hers as a charming smile played upon her lips. Never had he seen her act in such a way around Robb and it filled him with both joy and astonishment. However, all that was if no consequence, he was a bastard, with nothing to offer the world, the most he could hope for was an honourable life serving the people of the realm at the Wall.

Sitting up, Jon swung his feet to the floor and ran his hands through his knotty hair, his toes stretching out upon the cold wooden floor. Shaking his head, he sighed, he had to stop thinking about her, if he laid there any longer he would relive that night all over again and he didn't want that. Didn't want to remember her confessing her love... didn't want to remember her telling him he was worth far more than any man... and he certainly didn't want to remember that kiss. The touch of those perfect lips on his... his fingertips weaving through her soft (HC) hair as her own played upon the stubble against his cheek.

Yet, most of all he wanted to forget what came after. The fact that he walked away without ever telling her how he truly felt... that he loved her, he always had... and how he regretted never speaking to her again. Left her standing by the gate at Winterfell, surrounded by her family and friends, yet never looking more alone or heartbroken as he rode off on his horse for Castle Black. Knowing he would probably never see her again and still, he couldn't even offer a single goodbye. And now he could never take it back, never rewrite history, because she was dead... gone forever.

After breaking fast in his chambers, Jon sat at his desk as Edd handed him parchment after parchment, all of which awaited his signature. It was his least favourite part of the day, though he was soon interrupted by a heavy knock at the door. Grateful for the distraction he called for them to come in, assuming it was someone to inform him about the arrival of the recruits which were expected sometime that morning. As the door opened, Jon stood up and adjusted the straps if his tunic ready to head down to the courtyard and address the new men. Yet, his head snapped up to look at Olly as the young boy's voice sounded from the doorway, "Lord Commander, a woman has arrived asking for you, Ser Alliser has taken her to the hall."

Furrowing his brows together, Jon looked to Edd with confusion wondering who on earth it could be, watching as his friend gently shrugged his shoulders. Leaving his paperwork on the desk behind him, Jon hastily made his way through the door and down the hallway, as thoughts of Sansa and Ayra played through his mind, igniting a small flicker of hope that maybe it could be them. Upon reaching the large heavy doors to the hall, Jon stopped, his hands holding on tight to the handle with his eyes fixed to the floor, unable to explain the strange racing of his heart. Without another moment of hesitation he pushed the doors open, taking a step inside as he lifted his gaze, the sight stopping him dead in his tracks. There, across the hall stood a figure speaking to Ser Alliser. Jon couldn't see their face but it didn't matter, he could recognise that stance anywhere. It was a stance full of confidence and charm... a stance he saw in his dreams only last night... and a stance he never thought he would see with open eyes again. Barely able to process a thought, he watched as she turned around at the sound of the doors closing behind him. Completely facing him now, she took a slow step towards him, it was almost hesitant, a stark contrast to her stance just a moment ago and her expression... it was almost unsure, if not a little vulnerable. With his feet fixed to the floor, Jon felt as if he couldn't move, beginning to think he hadn't woken up this morning at all, sure that he must still be dreaming. Giving his head a small shake, he didn't dare speak her name for fear she would turn to dust and wake him. But then came the sound of her voice... his name slipping from her lips as if she too thought she was dreaming, "Jon?" It was a sound he had missed and almost forgotten, a sound he didn't even hear in his dreams... and he knew right then that he must be awake.