Summary: The Starks represent everything Dany has wanted ever since she was an orphan growing up in King’s Landing without a family or a home to call her own. Sure, they can be a little strange, even downright hostile, especially her fiancé’s brother, Jon, who really seems to dislike her for some reason. And if she’s having cold feet on her wedding day, it’s only natural, right?
Dany’s about to find out there’s a lot more to the Starks than she realizes. Making it through her wedding isn’t all she has to worry about—surviving the wedding night might be even harder.
happy birthday @dracarysqueen! figured i’d continue my tradition of gifting you horror fics for your birthday :)
A sharp knock on the door startled her, and Dany turned toward it. “Come in,” she called, expecting Catelyn or a servant.
Instead, Jon opened the door, dressed in a black suit and bowtie. For a moment, she felt like the air had been knocked out of her. Stunned, she started to stand but sat back down again. “You—what are you doing here?” she asked with no small amount of trepidation. She didn’t know why she was suddenly so afraid.
He stared at her, his expression inscrutable. Finally, he cleared his throat. “I was sent to retrieve you,” he said. “It’s almost time.”
“Oh.” Perplexed, she stood slowly from the stool. When his eyes swept over her, she smoothed her hands down the front of her dress, feeling self-conscious. “How do I look?” she heard herself asking and immediately regretted it.
He lifted his eyes to her face, and she found herself holding her breath, paralyzed by the intensity of his gaze. Something flashed through his eyes, but just as quickly it was gone. He averted his eyes, fixating on some spot on the wall behind her. “Like a bride,” he said flatly.
Disappointment settled in her stomach. She didn’t know what she’d expected. “Right,” she agreed faintly. “That’s what I was going for.”
She made to walk past him but suddenly stopped within feet of him. “Jon.” He looked at her again, and her heart climbed into her throat, her voice faltering. Memories of that night flooded her mind—his voice in her ear, his beard chafing her inner thighs, his cock moving inside her. Now, she was the one finding it hard to maintain eye contact.
She swallowed again. “I just…I wanted to say…” Why was she doing this? Why was she determined to press on a bruise when it had all but healed? Still, it couldn’t be helped, the words all but clawing their way out of her. “I wanted to—to thank you. For not…for not telling Robb. About…what happened. That night of our engagement.”
For a moment, he only stared at her, expressionless. Then, he huffed out a breath, and a bitter smile pulled at his mouth. “I did tell him, Dany.”
For a second time in as many minutes, she couldn’t breathe. “You—what?” Her head began to spin, and her knees nearly buckled. She was going to faint. Her hand shot out, steadying herself on the vanity as she stumbled slightly. “But—how—he—”
Jon shrugged. “He didn’t care.”
Read on AO3. Thank you to @adecila for the moodboard! The Dany edit is courtesy of @waking-dreams-of-harmony as well, thank you! ❤
THIS STORY WAS F***ING AMAZING 👏 🙌 😍 IF YOU HAVEN'T READ IT. I WILL DEFINITELY RECOMMEND IT.
