helloeverybunny | — 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐫𝐩 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭.

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— 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐫𝐩 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭.

HOLIDAY WISHES RP POST
— where Kazie tries not to be a super flake! —

make a wish

The corner of his lip twitches just a little, because yes, he does know that the eye roll and frustration is less at him and more at how he was raised and how people south of the wall hold things dear that probably shouldn't matter. And in some ways, he can understand her way of thinking, because should it matter? No. But will it? He's not sure. Only his siblings can answer that when they find out, if they don't know already. Maybe that's why Robb has chosen to skirt seeing him and he has his answer already. "I would like to believe it won't, but I'm not sure if it will or not. I don't know how they'll feel about me knowing that difference in our blood." Which is the crux of why it bothers him so much.

His eyes dip down to watch how she pokes him in the chest like that, brow arching ever so slightly. "I pledged myself to the king because if I hadn't he would have taken castle black anyway. At least if I'm on his side he'll listen to me a little and I can hopefully keep any more Wildlings from dying." Besides, what was he supposed to do? Try to fight the man who'd stopped the wildling attack on the castle? They didn't have enough men to survive Mance's attack, they wouldn't have enough to fight off Stannis too. "I don't know how to be anything but a wolf. I wasn't even good at being a crow, and I don't think I really want to be one anymore." He raised one leg so he can rest his arm on his knee as he watches her.

"Have you asked?" The look she gives him is mocking, pointed, because of course you won't know if you don't ask... but there's sympathy behind her eyes, even as she tries to keeps it hidden beneath her tough exterior. "If it's their opinion that concerns you, then you should be back there talkin' to them an' not here talkin' to me." She huffs. "Sibling, cousin... too many names, but still family. You kneelers just like makin' things complicated."

She watches him back, eyebrows furrowed as she takes in what he's saying. "The southron king is helpin', then?" She doesn't want to hope, but that's what he seems to be telling her, that there's a chance for her people to survive. "For a price, of course," she adds, knowing all too well that nothing ever comes for free. "So you need to be the king of crows, it looks like." A king to treat with a king.

Then her expression softens. "What do you want to be, though?"

At the mocking his head dip down a little, because he's pretty sure that she knows the answer to that without even needing him to speak. He thinks he sees that sympathy, but he's not entirely sure it's there either. She's good at holding things back, and he'd been quick to dip his head. "No, I haven't asked them." He's nervous to talk to them, to find out if they care about it. "And I'm here talkin' to you because..." His hand teases through his hair a little before he looks back up at her. "Because I value talking to you, I value your opinion and your thoughts." Because he values her, despite everything, she means a lot to him.

"I'm working on him helping. He's angling for the throne in the South, but if he's going to take it and keep it, he needs to save the North first. The wildlings may not kneel to him, but the White Walkers are a problem that everyone faces no matter what side of the wall you're on." Everyone needs to band together to stop this threat or no one will survive and the dead will rule the petty throne everyone is fighting over. "Loyalty is normally the cost of a king's help," there may be judgement in that answer Not for her and the Wildlings but for Stannis and the price he might charge anyone for his help. Jon would help because it's the right thing to do, no matter if the people were under his rule or not. "And for the time being, at least until I can secure safety for everyone in the North." He meets her eyes with some determination, "Everyone." Wildlings included. And he won't charge a price for his help at least.

"I want to be my own man, I want to live and love and not be stuck to vows I didn't know were just a frilly, frozen cage." He dips to rest his chin on his knees. "I want to be free to be with you, were you to have me." Because he knows he broke things between them, but he wants to fix them some how.

"But I don't have the answers you're lookin' for." He wants to know where he belongs, if he belongs to his family at all given all that he's discovered about his heritage... and yet he's speaking to someone who's so far removed from any of it. It's not that she isn't touched that he values her, but there's nothing she can offer him past a fleeting comfort. A few hours of peace, maybe. Then in the morning he'll be back to worrying about his place among the wolves and the crows.

His determination to try to save them all has been one of the things that's endeared him to her. Even if the odds, truly, look quite impossible. He's made her believe — at least right up until the fight that had gone down between her camp and his — that there's something he can do. That they can do together. She won't say it out loud, but there's a truth to what he's telling her, that this southron king needs to save the North if he's to take the South. If they could make everyone else see that...

But he still has more to say, and the expression on her face turns curious as she listens. Then it becomes somber. "For as long as you live for others, you will never be free," she tells him. Her tone is soft, and not unkind. "Duty will always call you back." She meets his eyes. "An' that is why you an' I can never be together, crow. You cannot turn away from your vows any more than I can turn away from my freedom."

Silence hangs in the air for a moment, before she adds, very quietly, "But just 'cause I cannot be with you doesn't mean I cannot love you." She pushes herself up to her feet. "Go. Speak to your family, Jon. You're lucky yours is alive at all."

She underestimates the importance of even just talking to her despite not having a solution. To be able to even just talk out his thoughts with her and because she's not part of the family he's talking about, it means she doesn't get upset if he says something wrong. She'll tell him he's being an idiot, or he's being a little blind because he missed something she sees while talking to him. Which has its own kind of comfort. "But you do have the ability to tell me I'm an idiot because I'm overthinking things without getting upset at how it sounds when it comes out of my mouth. And sometimes it's just nice to talk about it, even if there isn't an answer." Because sometimes he just needs to be able to talk. And she's let him do exactly that.

There was no stopping that battle between his people and hers. Shortly after falling in with her he'd hoped there'd be some kind of solution that both sides could come to without blood loss. But there just wasn't. Some he might have been able to talk to given the time, on both sides, but there had't been time. His heart is in the right place, torn between both the crows and the wildlings, because he doesn't want anyone to suffer or die. But people need to be open to working together, for both their survivals.

He doesn't like how she says it's why they can't be together, because out of everything that's what hurts the most. Though his head tilts toward her a little. "I would never ask you to turn away from your freedom," he'd never ask her to turn away or sacrifice anything for him if he's being honest. It's not in his nature to be greedy, only to try and slide in where he might fit without disrupting too many things. In some ways, a product of his upbringing as he's been nudged to the background.

"But what if I found a way to slip out of my duties?" The question comes unbidden, something he hasn't thought a lot about but in the face of, the realization that, they can't be together because of him, it's an honest question. Because while he's not supposed to, his heart has found a home in her. And which she rises, his hand catches hers gently as his chest tightens as she offers that last bit. That she loves him. It has him tug her gently to him, soft enough if she fights him he'll relent but with enough that it's a request for her to not walk away, to not leave him or this conversation yet. "I know I have a lot to make up for, but you are my family in a different way, Jane. If you'll have me." A family of choice. A family in that he loves her. A family in that he'll do everything he can to keep her safe.

She ends up settling on his lap, straddling him. Because where else, with him still seated on the floor? She's thawed, though, and her hands easily thread into his hair, fingers gently, affectionately, playing with his hair. He knows this is a side of her she doesn't show much to anyone, outside of those she considers her sisters and the man she'd once loved, but here it is again now, just like that first time they'd shared a tent and he'd broken his vows and made love with her.

"You need to be the king of the crows," she reminds him kindly. They have more pressing matters at hand than their own feelings, the survival of both their people most of all. He needs to bring them together: the southron king and his army, the Free Folk clans, the families sworn to the wolves, the black brothers of the Wall. "But when this is over, an' you feel your place is with us still..." She kisses him softly on the mouth. "I'll be 'ere, waitin'."

His hands settle on her hips as he tilts his head up to her, enjoying the feel of her fingers in his hair and the softness that she showed him. He cherishes this side of her, because he knows it's rare for her to show, that it's only for those she loves. One hand catches her cheek and he deepens the kiss a little more as he lets those words sink in. "Will you stay close while I have to lead through this?"

It's not a question of joining the fight, because he's pretty sure he knows she will. He's aware that for the better of her people she'll take the stand she has to with him and the Southern King and anyone else they can draw to aid them. No, the question is if she'll stay close to him. "I am yours, Jane, even if I have to lead the crows, I am yours." Because he wants that clear. He wants to be right here with her. Teeth nip at her lower lip gently. "I don't want to leave your tent tonight." To leave her tonight.

She snorts softly, though she doesn't pull away from him or stop what they're doing either, kissing him and staying close even as they continue to talk and plan. "Your men ain't gonna like that," she tells him, a hint of amusement somewhere in her tone. "The vows you swore, what did it say? You ain't gonna hold lands, wear crowns..." Yet the Wall is practically his, and he is the king of the crows.

She kisses up to his ear, nibbling at the lobe before whispering suggestively, "Take a wife..."

Groaning softly, his hand teases into her hair, encouraging her for the way she's nibbling at his ear as she whispers. "My men will have to deal with it." He doesn't dip to clean her mouth but instead lets his own teeth tease along her jaw and throat with a hungry sound. "I've already taken a wife, haven't I?"

His hand kneads her hip as he shifts under her, almost like he's rocking up into her body. Teasing, demanding, and toying with her. Though is it fully toying if he has every intention of following through with the motion once he can get her out of her leather and furs? "There's not a better wife for me north or south of the wall."

"Depends." The amusement in her voice has thickened, mixed with her quickening breaths and soft moans from their mutual teasing. "By our customs, you have."

Did he really think that night she'd let him cart her off to his tent meant nothing? And does he now understand why she'd been angry with him for siding with the southron king? She knew, of course, that it had been the tactical choice; her people hadn't stood a chance against Stannis' cavalry. No, she'd been angry because he'd chosen to go back into being a crow in that moment, and effectively abandoned her.

She stills for a moment, resting with their foreheads together, before brushing her nose against his. "Who are you, Jon Snow?" she echoes his earlier question, giving him a chance to really think about what he wants to do next. Oh, she doesn't mind a good fuck and will gladly keep him around tonight for that, but he means more to her than that. He is more to her than that, and for all that he's lamented about not knowing who he was or for being conflicted about his family, it's one thing he hasn't seem to have really caught on.

The problem is she isn't seeing why he did it. He didn't do it because that's where his loyalties lay, but because it meant he could still Stannis' hand in slaughtering the Wildlings. By being a trusted companion and the voice of knowing about the Wildlings, he's been able to work to do what he could to keep them alive, to try and get Stannis to see they could be allies if treated properly. He didn't turn against her or abandon her, but try to adapt the situation to keep the woman he loved safe the best way he knew how. "By my heart, I have." The words are gentle against her skin before she pulls back to rest her forehead against his.

The question is a heavy one, because it is what he'd come here growling about. The turmoil with the Crows, with Stannis, and with his family. He wasn't lying when he said she was the calm among this storm inside him. That one place he wanted to be when everything else was upside-down. Which is also why her being mad at him had crushed him so much.

Shifting a little, he brushes his nose against hers a little more. "A man who wants to be with his wife, who wants to see both our people survive this war with the dead. And who wants a life with you, no matter the cost." At his very core, that's all he wants. Both his family and people and her family and people safe, not having to be a war ideally, but at least not having to worry about the Dead. That the North beyond the wall could be free of fear and hunt and live as it should. "I thought I was a crow when I joined them, but I'm not. I've been unhappy since I came to be part of them. And I'm not a man of the South either." If there's one thing that had felt at home, besides just being with her, it had been his time traveling with her and her sisters. There was a peace to that life that had resonated with him, that had made Ghost happy side by side with her Shadowcat. "I'm your wolf, Jane."

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— 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐫𝐩 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭.

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