You’re kissed by fire, remember? Lucky. It will take more than an arrow to kill you.
A slender young man steps to the forefront, a great white wolf at his side. The others tremble, but he just stares, still and contemplative. Her breath hitches in her throat when she meets his grey eyes- he has a peculiar look about him, as though he’s seen beyond the sphere of this world into the mysteries beyond. It’s a chilling sort of knowledge, but she finds herself unable to look away. "Who are you?" he asks.
And it is a worthy question- who is she anymore? The last Targaryen, the Khaleesi, the Queen of Meereen, the savior of the weak, the burner of cities… "Daenerys Stormborn."
When he stands a hand-span away from her, he leans forward, a lock of inky hair falling into his impossibly-full eyes. She feels a chill creep up her back; there’s something strange about him, to be sure, something otherworldly that she likely should not trust. And yet… ”Do you believe in prophecies, Daenerys Stormborn?" [x]
"Jon was not afraid of death, but he did not want to die like that, trussed and bound and beheaded like a common brigand. If he must perish, let it be with a sword in his hand, fighting his father’s killers. He was no true Stark, had never been one, but he could die like one. Let them say that Eddard Stark had fathered four sons, not three."
Go and save your sister, Jon Snow. And never look back.
“My mother says the same. She makes a posset for me, herbs and milk and ale, to help make me fertile. I drink it every morning. I told Robb I’m sure to give him twins. An Eddard and a Brandon. He liked that, I think. We … we try most every day, my lady. Sometimes twice or more.”
I would need to steal her if I wanted her love, but she might give me children. I might someday hold a son of my own blood in my arms. A son was something Jon Snow had never dared dream of, since he decided to live his life on the Wall. I could name him Robb.
jon/ygritte uni au because i can’t draw anything but aus