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Castle Black was a weird name for a bakery, but at least it was more dignified than its nearest competitor, the Donut Hole-in-the-Wall. At least, that’s what Dany told herself every time she had to explain where her boyfriend worked. Given how many cheesy rom-coms and romance novels waxed poetic about the sexiness of bakers, it was amazing how many of her friends from work made pitying or even vaguely disgusted faces when she talked about Jon. It wasn’t all of them, of course, but she was always surprised by how many of her wealthy coworkers looked at him with scorn.
The bakery was struggling, perpetually understaffed and with fewer customers than they needed to do anything more than break even. Jon worked extra hours, but his boss, Jeor Mormont, couldn’t afford to pay him any overtime. Frankly, Jon was responsible for all of the bakery’s bread, he was a darned good baker, and he probably should have been making more that he was to begin with. But Jon was nothing if not faithful, and they all knew the bakery would have to close without him. She hated how many of the people she worked with looked down on him for how little he made instead of seeing how hard he worked, or how important he was to the shop.
As she walked out of the fancy high-rise building where she worked, she pulled the bobby pins out of her hair, letting it fall loose around her shoulders instead of keeping it up in her usual professional style. It was the weekend, and Jon couldn’t take her to dinner because Jeor’s other full-time employee was out of town. The ladies from work would probably stick their noses up at that, too. But as she drove toward the bakery to see him anyway, she could feel herself relaxing. Even thinking about Jon made her feel good, and that was what they didn’t understand either.
The moment she walked in to the bakery, the rest of the stress from her week melted away in the face of Jon’s smile and the familiar smells of baked goods. Jon had flour all over his black apron with the bakery logo on the chest and, more charmingly, on the side of his nose. When she walked up to him, he leaned forward over the counter to kiss her, and she kissed him back with a smile.
When they pulled apart, Jon exclaimed, “You’re early!”
Dany laughed, “Early for what? Sitting in the corner with a cream puff and watching you work?” She kissed him again to soften the joke, standing on tiptoe to reach him and still needing him to bend forward so she could reach. She was perfectly content to sit at one of the bakery’s small tables all evening and talk to him while they were between customers, and they both knew it. But it wouldn’t hurt to make sure he was reminded.
Jon chuckled. ”Not exactly. If you’d been on time, you’d have found Jeor at the counter and me dressed up for a date and waiting out front. As it is, you’ll just have to wait for him to get here.”
She gasped. ”Really? But he never works Friday nights!”
Jon grinned. ”I know. It’s when his bowling team competes. But he said just this once - for our anniversary.”
Dany wrinkled her forehead. ”But it’s not our anniversary! Not until next week!”
Jon raised an eyebrow, leaning on the counter. ”Isn’t it, though? We had coffee on the 23rd. We met on the 18th.”
He was right. They had met on the 18th. She’d gone down to the lake shore to walk her iguana, Rhaegal - or rather to let him swim. He needed some time in the water, and if it was weird to sit on the beach while her iguana splashed along the edge of the lake, she hadn’t cared. And she still didn’t, but it was harder now, somehow, than it had been then. 5 years ago, she’d been in college and living in her first tiny apartment and pinching pennies to make ends meet, and she hadn’t minded the looks she got when she was out taking Rhaegal for a swim. Now, she was working for a high-powered company, she rarely worried about paying her bills, she had a much larger and much nicer apartment, and she felt like an oddity sitting by the lake, in a way she hadn’t back then.
"We did meet then,” she said, “So happy anniversary.”
Jon seemed to catch her moment of sadness and reached across the counter to hold her hand for a moment. They stayed that way, quietly, Jon just letting her think for a moment until his boss showed up and sent him to the back room to change out of his apron.
All through dinner, her mind kept going back to that day on the beach. Jon had been younger then, too, of course. He’d been corralling his younger siblings that day, with little help from Robb or Sansa. Arya and Bran had been tearing around out of control while Sansa tanned and Robb texted Talisa, and Jon had been so busy tearing after them that he hadn’t realized 4-year-old Rickon was splashing into the water’s edge until it was almost too late.
Jon had noticed just in the nick of time and snatched Rickon out of the water before he could get in too deep. But Rickon had dropped his rubber duck, and that was how she’d gotten herself tangled up with the Stark family. Rhaegal had gone after the duck, perhaps thinking it was one of the toys Dany sometimes put in the bathtub with him when she couldn’t take him out to the lake.
She thought about that day all through dinner, but she didn’t bring it up until they were back in Jon’s old beater of a car, driving back to the bakery where her own car was still parked. She usually drove them places, partially because her car was nicer and partially because she just liked driving, but Jon had insisted that dinner tonight be a surprise. It hadn’t been much of a surprise that they were going to her favorite restaurant, the hole-in-the-wall pizzeria where they’d gone when their first coffee date turned into their first dinner date, where they’d celebrated both of their graduations and her first two promotions at work. But she’d appreciated the pretense, if for no other reason than that he’d meant well.
"Do you remember Rickon’s duck?" she asked, not much caring that it had probably come out of the blue.
Jon laughed, harder than she thought the memory really deserved, and answered, “Of course! Don’t think I’ll ever forget the way he hung onto that thing when you handed it back to him.”
She smiled fondly back at him, “Or the way he held onto Rhaegal! It’s a miracle that iguana still likes any of you, the way that kid hugged him.”
Jon rolled his eyes affectionately, “I did tell him to be gentle.”
She laughed, “Several times, as I remember. And then you told Bran, and he listened, and Arya, and she didn’t.”
Jon snorted, “Well, at that age, Arya didn’t listen to anything.”
Dany laughed, “Arya still doesn’t listen to anything.”
Jon glanced over at her, something in his eyes she couldn’t quite read - which was unusual. ”She listens sometimes, if it’s you.”
Dany put a hand on his shoulder, “And sometimes she listens if it’s you. More often if it’s you than if it’s anyone else.”
Jon smiled at her, “Yeah, I guess so.”
She kissed him on the cheek, “I know so. You’re really good with her. Even when she’s a challenge.”
Arya had been just starting to calm down and grow up when their father had died, and she’d been nearly uncontrollable ever since. ’Challenge’ might be understating it. Jon kept his left hand on the wheel, but held his right hand out toward Dany. She took it.
He smiled weakly, “Tonight wasn’t meant to be sad. Sorry, Dany.”
She squeezed his hand, “It’s not your fault. It just happened. But you made it through it.” She didn't say what she meant by 'it,' but she knew he would have the same thing on his mind. Ned Stark's death had been tragic, and it had hit everyone around the Starks hard, including Dany.
He kissed the back of her hand. ”We made it through it. Couldn’t have done it without you.”
"You could have," she reassured him.
"I didn’t want to," he answered. He opened his mouth to say something else, but then closed it again.
She raised an eyebrow, keeping it up until he glanced over at her and then looked sheepishly away again. ”Hey,” he said casually, “Do you mind coming into the bakery with me for a second when we get there? I… uh… wanted to show you something.”
"Of course," she agreed, not sure exactly what he was talking about, "I’m excited to see it - whatever it is."
"Well, actually," he explained, pulling into the bakery’s small parking lot, "It’s a cake. I’m starting to learn how to decorate cakes, and we don’t get a ton of orders for them, but I finally got to work on one this morning."
"That’s great!" she answered, aware that she was missing something. His voice sounded too casual, and there was still whatever it was he’d decided not to say before. But she trusted Jon Snow with her whole heart, and she’d just have to trust him with whatever this secret was.
He was obviously nervous as they walked into the bakery, wiping his hand on his pant leg instead of taking hers, like it might be damp. A thought formed itself halfway in her head, but she didn’t let herself think it all the way. He could be nervous for a lot of different reasons. Even so, she found herself smiling and she couldn’t stop.
It wasn’t surprising that Joer was still inside the bakery. What was surprising was that he wasn’t alone. Jon’s stepmom and half-siblings were there, as was Dany’s best friend Missie. They were all standing around a large cake shaped like a rubber duck in a tiara.
Her heart started fluttering, and now her hands were sweating, too. She’d been right half-thinking this was a wedding proposal. She was sure of it now, looking at their friends and family gathered around and staring at them. But she could play it cool until she was more than sure. She could play it cool until Jon actually said the words. Even with her heart racing.
"Oh wow," she said, trying to sound like she hadn’t figured it out, "Nice job with the cake, Jon - it looks great!"
The words that came out of his mouth weren’t what she’d expected. ”Thanks - it’s, uhh… Well, up close, it’s more obvious that I’m still learning. It’s pretty far from perfect, but Mr. Mormont said that if I wanted to do it myself, I could, given the occasion.”
The boys laughed and the girls groaned, but Dany was almost relieved - Jon was obviously nervous, just like she was.
Rickon was the first one to speak, blurting out “But look at the tiara, Dany!” like he couldn’t help himself.
She did, taking a step forward as Catelyn shushed her son. The top of the tiara was holding a diamond ring, the gem tiny but beautiful. She didn’t know how he’d found the money for it, which was an absurd thought for a moment like this, the moment when she was looking at her engagement ring for the first time. But even though she’d known it was coming since they walked in, she still couldn’t quite wrap her head around it.
She turned to ask him about the ring, only to see him staring up at her from the floor, down on one knee. That was when it really hit her, a wave of elation running through her so intensely that she started laughing. “Yes!”
"Dany, I said in the car-" Jon said, clearly not taking her ‘yes’ for an answer yet.
"Yes!" she said again.
Jon’s family was laughing now, hugging each other, but Jon kept talking, “I said I didn’t want to get through Dad’s death without you. And the thing is - I still don’t. I don’t want to get through anything without you. There’s not a day in the rest of my life, happy or sad, that I want to spend without you.”
She bit her lip to stifle another ‘yes’ that he might still be too freaked out to hear.
"I love you. So… So Daenerys Targaryen, will you marry me?"
She didn’t know why her eyes were welling up. She’d already told him yes twice without crying. So why was her throat suddenly so thick? Why couldn’t she get the word out again? She nodded frantically, and this time Jon seemed to understand it as an answer. He sprang up, catching her around the waist and picking her up, spinning her around. She laughed through her tears, and when he tried to put her down again, she wrapped her arms around his neck to stop him and forced him to keep holding her while she kissed him.
"Well, give her the ring now, silly!" Sansa exclaimed behind them, and then the whole bakery was laughing.
"Yeah, give me the ring," Dany agreed happily, still laughing.
"For you, Dany?" Jon said, "I’ll get the whole crown."
It was an awkward cut, but Jon made it, mangling the top of the cake a little, but he was as good as his word. He brought her the entire cake tiara, plus a little of the top of the duck, and when she pulled the ring out of it and put it on her finger, she didn’t mind the stickiness at all.