dear_mun | About his first month on that island

[Oh Ygritte...now he feels even worse about the whole thing, guiltier than when he broke his vows with her because at least, she mattered to him]

It was not of my own choice! It is this place, this island that plays tricks on people. [He pauses] And I fell for it.

[there is a certain territorial urge that she cannot ignore, mingled with touches of hurt and jealousy and anger, but right now at least, his despair is just amusing. oh, jon snow.]

You are a fool, I'd be first t' agree. And what tricks were these, and how does an island come t' play a trick?

[He'd feel the same if their places were exchanged, even if Jon would never admit it. He gives her a look and opens his mouth to protest, but she's right. He is a fool for letting this happened to him and so he doesn't argue with her. And perhaps he does miss that way she has of reminding him who he is.]

I have not been long enough to have seen many tricks, but they usually involve the people of the island thinking differently than normally. And it is not the island itself that plays us, but the Goddess that reigns over it.

[oh yes there's the jon snow face, dismal and a little guilty. she doesn't yet let up, though.]

A trick a goddess plays. So it's a magic, is it? Bloody convenient, Jon Snow. A goddess plays a trick, a fool falls for it, and suddenly he finds himself t' be-- [she makes a face that's half a smirk and half a sneer] --married. Like a lord. And who is your lady?

[He knows he's making excuses, he knows he should just own his mistake, that's the honorable thing to do, but in between honor and survival and all the rest he's seen on that island, he's just all the more confused.]

It's more complicated than that, Ygritte. There, you either submit to the Goddess' will or you die. But death is not permanent, and each time you come back, you lose something of yourself, until you are just a shell of what you used to be.

[And there's so many things Jon doesn't want to forget. His family, his brothers at the Wall, ~~her~~]

I'm still no Lord. Common people also marry. And she was no one important. [To him, at least.]

[it's a strange thing that he speaks of, a strange magic she's not heard of before. that does not make it untrue, simply strange.]

You'd marry her for your honor, though. That so? You shared a cloak with her, you bedded her, you did it t' save yourself-- [and she is glad, for all her talk, glad that he did--] --but you'd not need marry her, not if she was no one important. You'd have her and be done with her. It's your kneeler's blood makes you go thinking of marriage, and your lord's honor.

[a little pause, and it's the taste of jealousy that causes to her speak again, a jealousy she doesn't want. it should be easier than this.] And I'd still know her name.

[Jon is still trying to wrap his head around the whole situation, the island and the Goddess and what's constantly asked of her 'prisoners'. No doubts it sounds even strange from an outsider point of view. He knows he would have questioned things like she does.]

In all honesty, Ygritte, if I had a say in this, I would not even have shared my cloak with her. [In any sense of the saying too.] There was no honor in marrying her.

[Jon stays thoughtful for a moment, trying to make sense of how he would have felt if it had been her being married to someone else. It shouldn't matter, he doesn't want it to matter, but he remembers how he felt when she told him that her first hadn't been Longspear, how he felt relieved to feel whatever emotion had coiled in his stomach disappear. Is it how Ygritte feels too?

Jon debates not to tell her, but he can't help but to feel as it would give the Queen more importance if he doesn't say her name to Ygritte. He's not even sure the Wildling girl would know of her.]

It was Cersei Lannister.

[she does not know the name, or its importance--maybe it's been said in her hearing, but any significant weight to it is overthrown by the feeling in her guts. Cersei Lannister.

when was it that Jon Snow started to matter? after he stole her or didn't steal her, before Longspear, before the caves, somewhere even before he forsook all his precious vows. not for her, that's something out of a song. but he does matter--at least for now; she's no fool, things change--but Jon Snow matters, and so does this wife of his, whoever she might be, however he came by her.

instead of saying any of that, though, she raises her eyebrows and gives him an unimpressed snort.]

Cersei Lannister. Soft southerner's name. [and that's all she'll say for now, though there's an idea forming.] Sharing your cloak, that isn't binding--and neither is no marriage. What's marrying but words, Jon Snow? Or did your goddess make you forget how good you are at oathbreaking?

[His vows are still and probably will always be a touchy subject, especially on that Gods forsaken island. He wants to argue that he's never broken them in his heart, that all the time he spent alongside the Wildlings, it only had been so he could save his sworn brothers. He wants to tell her that he's never been an oathbreaker, that he's never turned his cloak, but Jon doesn't. Because he can't bring himself to betray her, not here, not like this, not when she seems already mad at him.

He remembers the grotto, he remembers all too well her words and he wishes now he'd listened to her. They truly should have never left the caves. It seems to him that it all went to the Seven Hells after that. He shakes his head, almost sadly.]

The Goddess did not forget, but it matters not. What words she had me say for Cersei, they were only an illusion. There was no real binding, just the thought of it. And that is the only thing I am grateful for.

[He swore to himself that he would only forsake his vows to keep the collar from choking him, nothing more.]

[again, she snorts. not impressed, Jon Snow. if you're grateful, you're grateful, but agonizing like this--]

Words that mean even less than words. False words that aren't lies but illusions. Now I've heard t'all from you, Jon Snow. It's your words that will be your death, and all the time you use t' labor on them--you mark me. If they were illusions, then they were illusions, just so, and you know it. So why talk of those words, and of Cersei?

Or does she mean t' keep you?

[Things are always so cut clear to you, Ygritte. Sometimes Jon wishes he could see things your way. His honor will be the death of him, he's starting to think, but even that he keeps it to himself.]

Because I wish for such a thing to never happen again. [It's an empty plea, a prayer to the Old Gods that his Lady Mun will leave him be for a while.

The irony behind Ygritte's question inevitably makes Jon's lips tug upward lightly.]

I doubt that she does. No more than me wanting to keep her.

Edited 2012-05-02 17:57 (UTC)

[that's because things really are that clear, and she would tell him as much. but he's been troubled enough. she's kept him waiting in a sort of limbo, and she's not been kind--kindness not being something she is especially good at. for what wildling could be called kind? the north breeds kindness out of her children.

but there's a mercy in her for Jon Snow, anyway, he who once showed her a mercy and stole her, no matter what excuses he makes. so when he smiles--a small smile, hardly anything to warm yourself by--she echoes it, just slightly.]

She'd best not. Elsewise I'll come some night and steal you from her. No lady was ever a match for me, nor any wife. I want what's mine.

['Nor a match to any man' he thinks as he watches her smile, showing a hint of those crooked teeth he's come to love. As he listens to her, Jon wonders if he shouldn't be the one with the fire-kissed hair, because any man she would steal would be lucky.

Part of him wants to reach for her, wants to admit that he's missing her warmth, her scent, her taste, her laughter, but Jon is afraid that if he does, he'll be lost forever. And so he doesn't move, he's not even sure that Ygritte wants him to and his voice is thick when he speaks again.]

I am yours, you've said it yourself.

[And not long after, he betrayed her and no matter how much he knows it was the right thing to do, no matter how many times he tells himself he had no choice, that it was his duty, it lessens not in anything the guilt of it.]

[who can know what depressing thoughts run through Jon Snow's foolish head? his voice is quiet when he answers her, for all that he's agreeing. he's agreeing and he's just standing there. anyone that didn't know him would take that as rejection, for all that he agrees, but she knows him better than that. he knows nothing, that's his trouble.

and maybe it's a foolishness that lights the fierce little flame of happiness in her chest when he agrees with her. but if it is, it's a foolishness that she will gladly shoulder. she grins at him, pleased, and folds her arms over her chest with an air of stubbornness.]

So I did, and I'm no liar. So I haven't a choice but t'steal you back and carry you t' my cloak, Jon Snow. And I'd not be so foolish as to let anyone steal you from me.

[No one but him and it's probably for the best. But still Ygritte reads him so well, better than anyone, for where one might see rejection, she understands that it's not, that it's his own way to let her know how he feels.

That grin and pleased air is all that's needed for Jon to move and he smiles as he curls his arms around her, hiding his face in her red hair as he's done many times before. She smells like winter, like home and it makes him miss the Wall and Winterfell all the more.]

That, I would like to see. I am too heavy for you to carry me back to your sleeping furs. [Despite himself, his arms tighten around her, pulling her closer.] I don't think anyone would be foolish enough to try and steal me from you. [Nor he would let anyone try to steal her away from, if he had been real Wildling]

Edited 2012-05-02 23:06 (UTC)

[she doesn't give in to that embrace just yet--first she arches away from him, stubbornly, and takes a jabs at his belly with a little snort of indignation. pride before comfort!]

You don't think me strong enough, Jon Snow? You know nothing--I could carry you if I wanted. I'm a spearwife, you remember? I'm not one o' your southern ladies. You'd spend the whole of the time fussing at me, so I don't bother. [before he can protest, she adds:] And I'd be stolen if I wanted to be stolen, and you'd not have a say in it. You remember.

[satisfied that she's proved her point, she puts her arms around him, grinning against his shoulder. he may be on some island full of strange magics, but he's still Jon Snow, and if she shuts her eyes they could nearly be back in the caves again.]

It's lucky for you I don't intend to be stolen.

[He groans as she punched him in the gut and he tells himself he should have known better than to question her ability to throw him over her shoulder. He knows she is strong, smart and funny and when she compares herself to the Southron ladies, Jon can't help but to think that she's warmer than any women South of the Wall. He laughs softly because maybe he would fuss a little, but just for show.]

I have not forgotten that, Ygritte.

[He's relieved to feel her arms around him and part of him wants her on that island with him, because there, it would be like the caves but better. Tyrion had told him that there is no Wall to defend, no war to fight, no side to take. There, his vows mean little, it matters not if he's crow or if she's Wildling. There they could be only man and woman and he'd steal her all over again.

But it's cruel to wish such a thing, for she would have to submit to the will of the Goddess like the rest of them and Jon suspects it wouldn't sit well with her, for all her pride in being of the free-people and a spearwife.

He still wants to argue that he never stole her, but it'd be a vain argument and instead he nuzzles her neck]

I'd steal you back all the same.

Not if I didn't wish it!

[but she tips her head to the side agreeably enough, definitely smiling now. what is it about Jon Snow that makes her feel this way, warm like some giddy little maid--what is it about him that that makes her want-- what? to stay here, perhaps, or to find a cave for them to go into and never, ever come out, not for anyone, not for honor or vows or any horns of winter.

she does not answer, or try to answer, not even to herself. she shifts so she can meet his eyes, so close to him she'd only need to stand on her toes a little to kiss him. and she might, but first--]

Are there caves on this island, Jon Snow?

I'd still try to.

[It's a strange courtship the one they play, but Jon doesn't want it any other way. It wouldn't be her, it wouldn't be them and...wait. When did he started to think that? 'Two hearts that beat as one' How Mance would laugh at him if he knew the truth.

But it matters little when Ygritte smiles at him like that, when she leans close to him, close enough he can feel her breath on his face and he smiles back. Whatever it is that it makes her feel like a maid, it is the same that makes Jon feel like smiling and laughing, that makes him forget about his vows and guilt and even if she always manages to remind him of how their people are different, she still turns his inside to warmth.]

I would not know, I have not explore the island as a whole yet. But we could search for some together, if you want.

[One chance to be together with nothing in between them, no Wall, no oaths to break, no cloak to turn, no knees to bend. It seems all too surreal for Jon, but he doesn't want to think more on it.]

[she makes a little hmmm, just to prove that she's thinking about it, and stands on her toes a little so she can bump her nose against his, so close their mouths nearly brush together. but she isn't done talking yet.]

And what makes you think I would want t' come t' your island, Jon Snow? I don't let myself be ruled, not by no men, not by no goddesses. How would I play those games? [and she would not speak plainly, not in this. it would give too much away. she says one thing, but she smiles at him, and keeps herself close. a weakness, maybe. maybe her undoing.] Would you look t' defend me? Or is it me that's t' defend you, save you from your sweet wife?

[He can't help the hitch of his breath when she draws herself closer to him. It takes a little time for him to answer her, for all of his thoughts seem to dissolve into nothingness but for the thought of her, of her lively blue eyes, her scent of winter, her taste, her warmth...Jon kicks himself for letting her enrapture him.

Part of him hopes that him being on the island might be a reason good enough for Ygritte to want to come to it. He swallows slowly]

I don't know. I am not sure I want you to play those games, truth to be told. [He wants her on the island, but he doesn't want to share her. Not at all and the admittance of it surprises him lightly. Not that it's something new, he knows that much, but now faced with the possibilities of her being 'stolen' by someone else, it doesn't sit well with him. Jon doesn't want Ygritte to live through the head and heart aches of the Goddess' curses, though he has no doubts she'd adapt better than him.

Her question makes him smile again]

You don't need me to defend yourself, Ygritte.

[But still, Jon will never be far to make sure she's all right.]

Edited 2012-05-03 23:39 (UTC)

No, I don't, and you'd best not forget it!

[and she can't resist grinning at him, pleased with herself--she likes his smile, the way his breath stops for a beat when she worms closer to him. it's vain, but she likes that she can make all of that happen. that's a sort of magic that doesn't take any effort, and it's better than any goddess' spells.]

But if I came t' your island, you'd want to. That so? I don't need you t' defend me--I don't need you for anything, Jon Snow. I'm a spearwife, which means I don't need anyone, least of all some lordling crow like yourself. [she's teasing, but to lessen any sting, she stands on her toes again and kisses him, quickly, immediately pulling away to grin at him again.]

I choose you. Wildlings don't have no goddesses, so I wouldn't let that stop me from my choosing. If I came t' your island, you'd have to remember that. D'you think you could?

[It's incredible how she knows him so well, Jon thinks. How she knows that he wouldn't be able to stop himself from wanting to protect her, to defend her and to never dishonor her, even if their sense of honor are completely different. And he knows he wouldn't do it because he thinks Ygritte can't take care of herself, but he would do it because he wants to, because she matters and that's the right thing to do.

He kisses her back, leaning forward despite himself when she breaks it as soon as it started, but the lost of her lips against his is made up by her words. There's something comforting in knowing that she chooses him after all. Jon nods slowly]

Yes, I'll remember. [Though if he ever forgets about it, he has no doubts she'll remind him.] So you will come then? To this island?

[whether or not she believes him or doesn't, whether or not he's telling the truth--and he likely isn't, there's an honor to Jon Snow that does not always make sense--none of it matters. for a second, she only smiles at him, pleased by his answer.

and then she stands a little taller, and her smile becomes more of a grin, which sort of ruins the moment--but she can't have Jon Snow growing soft and complacent and able to predict her!]

I'll do as I please. Might be I find myself there, if you think you can remember what I said. If there's time, that's the soft way of saying it-- [her mundane's way, and she rolls her eyes] --but might be I decide there's time enough for me without waiting for her. I'm not patient, Jon Snow. And someone has t' come and steal you back from your wife.

[Never in the short time he's known Ygritte has Jon ever thought of being able to predict her. She's Wildling to the bones, which makes her unpredictable, but then again, it might be something he likes from her. That ability to always keep him on his toes, always keeping him to thread lightly, to always be surprise by what she does or says. He likes that she speaks her mind, he likes that she can stand on her own, that she does what she wants and not what's expected of her. He often times wonders if being born South of the Wall would have made her different, but part of him doubts that.

Time. It seems to him that it's what always limit most their writers, these 'muns' that put them through all these heartache situations. Though, if he one day finds himself with Ygritte on that island, maybe Jon could find in his heart to forgive his lady mun for putting him there.]

I hope she will find some time, then. [And so does his mundane. He looks at her with another amused look, because the thought of Ygritte threatening Cersei to steal him back is rather entertaining to him, he'll admit, something he'd like to see for sure.]

(no subject)

spearwife - 2012-05-09 01:19 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

starkbastard - 2012-05-10 23:18 (UTC) - Expand

About his first month on that island

JADGHLFJGH I'm caught up with the books up to her at least AND EEEE YGRITTE!!! /grabby hands

EXCELLENT YAAAAAAAY 8))))

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)