Falling Like || Jon Snow

By __meraxes__

55.1K 2.3K 1K

❝𝒢𝓇𝑒 π“Œπ‘’ 𝒻𝒢𝓁𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 π“ˆπ“ƒπ‘œπ“Œ π‘œπ“ƒ 𝓉𝒽𝑒 π’·π‘’π’Άπ’Έπ’½βž Nymeria doesn't belong anywhere. She's... More

π”£π”žπ”©π”©π”¦π”«π”€ 𝔩𝔦𝔨𝔒
π”­π”©π”žπ”Άπ”©π”¦π”°π”±
00| 𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔩𝔬𝔀𝔲𝔒
01| 𝔱π”₯𝔒 π”΄π”žπ”©π”©
02| 𝔀π”₯𝔬𝔰𝔱
03| 𝔀𝔬𝔦𝔫𝔀 π”Ÿπ”’π”©π”¬π”΄
04| 𝔱π”₯𝔒 π” π”¬π”΄π”žπ”―π”‘
05| π”±π”―π”žπ”¦π”«π”¦π”«π”€ π”Άπ”žπ”―π”‘
06| 𝔴𝔒𝔦𝔯𝔴𝔬𝔬𝔑
07| 𝔭𝔯𝔦𝔰𝔬𝔫𝔒𝔯
08| π”‘π”žπ”²π”€π”₯𝔱𝔒𝔯𝔰 𝔬𝔣 π”ͺ𝔦𝔰𝔒𝔯𝔢
09| 𝔱π”₯𝔒 𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔰𝔱 π”ͺ𝔒𝔫
10| 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔑 𝔱π”₯𝔦𝔫𝔀𝔰
11| π”Ÿπ”’π”žπ”―π”° π”žπ”«π”‘ 𝔀π”₯𝔬𝔰𝔱𝔰
12| π”ͺπ”žπ”«π” π”’ π”―π”žπ”Άπ”‘π”’π”―
13| π”ž 𝔀𝔬𝔑𝔩𝔢 π”Ÿπ”žπ”°π”±π”žπ”―π”‘
14| π”žπ”«π”‘ 𝔫𝔬𝔴 π”₯𝔦𝔰 π”΄π”žπ”±π” π”₯ π”₯π”žπ”° 𝔒𝔫𝔑𝔒𝔑
15| π”₯π”žπ”²π”«π”±π”’π”‘ π”Ÿπ”Ά π”žπ”« π”žπ”«π”€π”’π”©
16| π”±π”―π”¦π”žπ”©π”°
17| 𝔱π”₯𝔒 π”―π”žπ”«π”€π”’π”―
18| π”ž π”±π”žπ”°π”±π”’ 𝔣𝔬𝔯 π”³π”’π”«π”€π”’π”žπ”«π” π”’
19| 𝔱π”₯𝔒 π”―π”¬π”žπ”‘
20| 𝔱π”₯𝔒 π”΄π”žπ”±π” π”₯𝔒𝔯𝔰 𝔬𝔫 𝔱π”₯𝔒 π”΄π”žπ”©π”©
21| π”ͺ𝔬𝔫𝔰𝔱𝔒𝔯𝔰 π”žπ”«π”‘ π”ͺ𝔒𝔫
22| 𝔫𝔬 𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔀𝔰
23| 𝔯𝔲𝔫 π”£π”žπ”°π”±
24| 𝔩𝔬𝔯𝔑 𝔰𝔫𝔬𝔴
25| 𝔱𝔯𝔲𝔰𝔱 π”ͺ𝔒
26| π”₯𝔬𝔩𝔑 𝔬𝔫𝔱𝔬 𝔢𝔬𝔲𝔯 π”Ÿπ”―π”¬π”¨π”’π”« π”₯π”’π”žπ”―π”±
27| π”‘π”žπ”Άπ”‘π”―π”’π”žπ”ͺ𝔒𝔯
28| π”žπ”°π”₯𝔒𝔰 𝔱𝔬 π”žπ”°π”₯𝔒𝔰
29| 𝔱π”₯𝔒 𝔫𝔦𝔀π”₯𝔱 𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔀
30| 𝔒𝔳𝔒𝔯𝔢 π”±π”’π”―π”―π”¦π”Ÿπ”©π”’ 𝔱π”₯𝔦𝔫𝔀
31| 𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔀 π”ͺπ”žπ”Ά 𝔱π”₯𝔒𝔢 𝔰𝔫𝔒𝔒𝔯
32| 𝔩𝔬𝔯𝔑 𝔠𝔬π”ͺπ”ͺπ”žπ”«π”‘π”’π”―
33| π”₯𝔬𝔭𝔒
34| 𝔴π”₯𝔒𝔯𝔒 π”₯𝔒𝔩𝔩 π” π”žπ”«π”«π”¬π”± π”―π”’π”žπ” π”₯
35| 𝔯𝔒𝔑 𝔴𝔬𝔩𝔣
36| π”±π”žπ”©π”© π”±π”žπ”©π”’π”°
37| π”ž 𝔀𝔦𝔣𝔱
38| π”ž π”₯𝔲𝔫𝔑𝔯𝔒𝔑 𝔰𝔬𝔫𝔀𝔰
39| π”Ÿπ”’π”žπ”― π”¦π”°π”©π”žπ”«π”‘
40| 𝔬𝔲𝔱𝔯𝔲𝔫 𝔱π”₯𝔒 𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔯π”ͺ
41| π”Ÿπ”žπ”±π”±π”©π”’ 𝔬𝔣 𝔱π”₯𝔒 π”Ÿπ”žπ”°π”±π”žπ”―π”‘π”°
42| 𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔀 𝔦𝔫 𝔱π”₯𝔒 𝔫𝔬𝔯𝔱π”₯
43| 𝔱π”₯𝔒 π”‘π”žπ”«π” π”’
44| π”₯π”žπ”«π”‘ 𝔬𝔣 𝔱π”₯𝔒 𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔀
45| 𝔰𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔒𝔯
46| π”€π”―π”’π”žπ”±π”«π”’π”°π”° π”žπ”«π”‘ π”₯𝔬𝔯𝔯𝔬𝔯
47| π”‘π”―π”žπ”€π”¬π”«π”°π”±π”¬π”«π”’
48| 𝔱π”₯𝔒 π”Ÿπ”©π”¬π”¬π”‘ 𝔬𝔣 π”‘π”―π”žπ”€π”¬π”«π”°
49| π”­π”’π”žπ” π”’ 𝔬𝔣𝔣𝔒𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔀
50| π”₯𝔬𝔭𝔒𝔰 𝔲𝔫𝔣𝔲𝔩𝔣𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔒𝔑 π”žπ”«π”‘ π”‘π”―π”’π”žπ”ͺ𝔰 𝔲𝔫𝔑𝔦𝔰𝔠𝔬𝔳𝔒𝔯𝔒𝔑
51| 𝔱π”₯𝔒 𝔯𝔒𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔫
53| π”’π”žπ”°π”±π”΄π”žπ”±π” π”₯ π”Ÿπ”Ά 𝔱π”₯𝔒 π”°π”’π”ž
54| 𝔩𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔩𝔒 π”±π”žπ”©π”¨π”°
55| π”Ÿπ”©π”²π”’ 𝔒𝔢𝔒𝔰 π”žπ”«π”‘ π”ž π”Ÿπ”žπ”‘ π”―π”’π”­π”²π”±π”žπ”±π”¦π”¬π”«
56| π”žπ”« 𝔦𝔠𝔢 𝔭𝔩𝔲𝔫𝔀𝔒
57| 𝔱π”₯𝔒 π”ͺ𝔬𝔱π”₯𝔒𝔯 𝔬𝔣 π”‘π”―π”žπ”€π”¬π”«π”°
58| π”₯𝔒𝔯 π”€π”―π”žπ” π”’ 𝔬𝔣 π”ͺπ”žπ”«π”Ά π”«π”žπ”ͺ𝔒𝔰
59| 𝔱π”₯𝔒 𝔬𝔲𝔱𝔰𝔦𝔑𝔒𝔯𝔰
60| 𝔱π”₯𝔒 π”‘π”―π”žπ”€π”¬π”«π”―π”¦π”‘π”’π”―
61| π”ž π”ͺπ”žπ”« 𝔬𝔣 π”₯𝔬𝔫𝔬𝔲𝔯
62| 𝔱π”₯𝔒 𝔫𝔦𝔀π”₯𝔱'𝔰 π”΄π”žπ”±π” π”₯
63| 𝔠π”₯𝔦𝔩𝔑𝔯𝔒𝔫 𝔰π”₯𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔑𝔫'𝔱 π”­π”©π”žπ”Ά 𝔴𝔦𝔱π”₯ π”‘π”’π”žπ”‘ 𝔱π”₯𝔦𝔫𝔀𝔰
64| 𝔱π”₯𝔒 π”žπ”£π”±π”’π”―π”ͺπ”žπ”±π”₯
65| 𝔱π”₯𝔒 𝔫𝔦𝔀π”₯𝔱 𝔦𝔰 π”‘π”žπ”―π”¨
66| 𝔳𝔦𝔭𝔒𝔯'𝔰 π”Ÿπ”©π”¬π”¬π”‘

52| π”ž π”°π”±π”―π”žπ”«π”€π”’π”―

509 32 24
By __meraxes__

dragonstone

— NYMERIA FOUND JON WAITING FOR HER WHEN SHE RETURNED TO THEIR ROOM. Darkness had blanketed the sky, and the first stars were beginning to appear. He wasn't even sure she noticed him, wrapped up in her thoughts as she was as she made her way over to the wardrobe, exchanging the top, more constricting layers of her dress for a light robe pulled over her undergarments, the edges lined with lace patterns. He came up behind her as she tugged her hair loose of its braids, his arms encircling her gently and she immediately leaned into his touch, eyes fluttering shut.

"Are you alright?" he asked softly.

She hummed under her breath. "No."

He nodded. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really." She replied honestly, turning in his hold so that she could wrap her arms around him too, her forehead tipped forward against his chest.

His chin rested lightly atop her head as he pursed his lips. He could solve problems like wildlings and the North and the loyalty of Northern lords. He could set his mind tactically to problems like military alliances and the Night King. He wished terribly that he could fix this so easily. But he was at a loss. "What can I do?"

Gratitude burned in Nymeria's chest and for a moment it rendered her speechless. She'd never imagined she could have this. She'd given up on the idea of having someone a long time ago. She'd certainly never thought she could ask for someone so unwaveringly compassionate and here for her. She blew out a small breath. "Just... come to bed?"

She didn't need to ask twice, a small breath of a laugh escaping her when he actually scooped her off her feet to set her down beneath the sheets. As he settled next to her, her fingers trailed over his bare chest, tracing small patterns over the scars there. They weren't ugly to her, a girl who'd spent so many years stitching up horrible wounds that became defined scars. As he watched her face, a faint memory drifted into his mind.

"Do you remember when I came back from the wildlings?" he whispered. "All full of arrows? Half-alive?"

"It's not something I'll soon forget." she replied, equally quiet. "Why?"

"I remember... I remember the infirmary. In pieces. When you saved me..." he smiled a little. "The first time you ever kissed me."

She blinked. "I didn't think you remembered that."

"I thought I imagined it for a while." he admitted. "It's part of the reason I never said anything. That, and I didn't think you'd be particularly happy getting strung up for kissing an idiot."

"You're right." She giggled, making him grin.

His smile faded to deep sincerity after a moment though. "Maester Aemon thought I was going to die. But you didn't give up on me. You never have. Thank you."

"Thank you for not dying."

His lips twitched at that. "Well..."

She gave his chest a light, playful hit. "Shut up."

"Yes, my queen."

She shot him an adoring smile. "You're an idiot, Jon Snow."

His fingers brushed down the side of her face. "You make it hard to think straight."

She hid her blush by tucking herself in closer to his body, relaxing as she slowly let her worries drift away into the darkness. "Go to sleep." She mumbled, though she couldn't hide the smile in her voice.

"Goodnight, Nym."

°

The next morning, they were both asked to the war room. A raven had arrived from Winterfell. Jon knew Nymeria well enough to see how the idea of being anywhere near Jorah again was weighing on her mind, though she hid it well. Her eyes flickered over the man briefly when they stepped inside, betraying nothing before scanning over the others in the room.

"Your Grace."

Daenerys inclined her head slightly. "Lady Nymeria. Your Grace." She gave Varys a nod, and he ambled over to pass a small, sealed scroll to Jon. "This arrived late last night." She informed them. "I imagined you'd have wanted to hear as soon as possible."

Nodding, Jon broke the seal, unfurling the parchment. His expression shifted slightly to one of surprise at first, then it grew more grim. "My little brother and sister..." he began. "They've come back." he passed the scroll over to Nymeria. "I thought Arya was dead. I thought Bran was dead."

"I'm happy for you." Daenerys smiled a little, though it faded quickly. "You don't look very happy...?"

"Well that would be the only good news." Nymeria sighed, scowling as she read it over again. "Bran saw the Night King and the Army of the Dead marching towards Eastwatch."

Jon shook his head. "If they make it past the Wall..."

Varys frowned. "The Wall has kept them out for thousands of years, presumably."

"Presumably." Nymeria agreed. "But according to the Free Folk, they've been sleeping all those years. Hard to poke the defences when you're asleep. And the Night's Watch has weakened considerably since it was first installed." She looked up at Daenerys. "We need you. Call an armistice with Cersei, please. We can't wait any longer to fight."

"Do you trust her?" Daenerys replied. "I don't. I want to fight with you, truly, but how do you propose we do such a thing? As soon as I march away, she marches in, armistice or no."

"Perhaps not." Tyrion offered. "Cersei thinks the Army of the Dead is nothing but a story made up by wet nurses to frighten children. What if we prove her wrong."

"I don't think she'll come see the dead at my invitation." Jon's huffed laugh was dry and humourless.

"So bring the dead to her."

"I thought that was what we were trying to avoid." Daenerys pointed out.

"We don't have to bring the whole army. Only one soldier."

"Is that possible?" Davos wondered.

Nymeria and Jon exchanged knowing looks. "The first wight I ever saw was brought into Castle Black from beyond the Wall." He said.

"So, theoretically," Nymeria mused. "Yes."

"Bring one of these things down to King's Landing and show her the truth." Tyrion urged.

"Anything you bring back will be useless unless Cersei grants us an audience and is somehow convinced not to murder us the moment we set foot in the capital." Varys pointed out.

He sighed. "The only person she listens to is Jamie... and he might listen to me." he glanced questioningly over at Daenerys, who looked at him like he was crazy.

"And how would you get into King's Landing?"

He shifted his eyes to Ser Davos now. As the Onion Knight realised he was now the point of focus he huffed a resigned sigh. "I can smuggle you in. but if the Goldcloaks were to recognise you, I'm warning you, I'm not a fighter."

"Well, it'll all be for nothing if we don't have one of these dead men." Daenerys reasoned.

"Fair point." Varys agreed. "How do you propose to find one?"

Nymeria snorted. "They're not exactly stealthy. Finding them isn't the problem. Taking one will be a bit trickier."

"With the queen's permission, I'll go north and take one." Jorah spoke finally. Daenerys turned to him in surprise while Nymeria tried her hardest not to look at him. "You asked me to find a cure so I could serve you. Allow me to serve you."

"The Free Folk will help us." Jon added. "They know the real North better than anyone."

"They won't follow a stranger." Nymeria pointed out. "I'll go."

"We both will." Jon corrected, turning all eyes to him in disbelief now.

"Jon." Nymeria spoke quietly. "We're not in the Night's Watch anymore. You're King in the North. They need you alive."

"They need me doing everything I can to protect them. And that's what I'll do." There was something else in his eyes too, though. Did you really think I'd let you go alone? "You and I are the only ones here who have fought them. We know them. We stand a better chance than anyone."

"And if you do not return?" Daenerys asked, urgency leaking into her tone. They hadn't known one another long, but still, she'd come to see Nymeria as a friend.

"We're something of an acquired taste that I don't think Death has." Nymeria smirked a little. "We'll manage."

Jon blew out a long breath, nodding slowly. "Well then, I suppose we'd best get to work."

A/N:
I'm such a slut for domestic scenes, sue me. Anyways, here's to a healthier relationship than any of us will ever have :)

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