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Her GPS failed the moment she drove beyond Winterfell’s northern boundary.
“No routes available.”
Dany struggled to resubmit her query as she drove. The King’s Highway was a monstrous eight lane death trap down in King’s Landing, but this far north it wasn’t even a true highway anymore. Once she’d passed out of Winterfell, the road had narrowed to one miserable lane. All the street lights vanished. The signs trickled to one every dozen miles. Potholes riddled the shoulders. After 20 miles the lines disappeared entirely, until she was driving along a road so narrow she wasn’t sure oncoming traffic could pass beside her. Not that there was any traffic. Nothing and nobody was out here except her.
“There’s a road, of course there’s a way north.”
She stabbed the search button again. The GPS circled, then gave the same cheerful chirp.
“No routes available.”
“Oh, piss off.”
Dany shut it down, staring out of her foggy windshield for any sort of street sign that might direct her. Nothing but steel gray mountains to the left and a dull overcast sky before her. Everything was dreary and wet and cold . August had never looked so bleak.
I should have picked that university in Braavos instead. Uncle Aemon’s wisdom be damned.
But he was her reason for being here. Queenscrown University was tiny and remote, but it offered the best graduate courses in history and women and gender studies in Westeros. All in large part, because her old uncle, Dr. Aemon Targaryen, refused to let it be anything less than spectacular. Dany hadn’t hesitated to take up his suggestion to apply once she’d saved enough money to finish her final two degrees.
If she’d known that it was out in the middle-of-nowhere, however, Dany wasn’t sure she would have made the same choice again. Her brother, Rhaegar, had certainly not been keen on the idea.
“You’ll freeze to death right along with him,” he’d insisted when she’d been debating which graduate program offer to accept. “Study in Dorne near Rhaenys, or Braavos. Aegon’s looking to move there soon. Stay near family.”
“Uncle Aemon’s family, too,” she’d reminded him, and that had cemented her decision.
She was just truly letting her worrisome regrets settled in, when the first signs for Queenscrown University appeared. Within five miles the little college town bloomed up around her. All along the road were signs and rows of simple shops. Campus was everywhere, an open sprawl of academic buildings and lawns where students were milling about in the late summer afternoon.
Dany pulled over next to a large fountain park in the center of town and called her uncle.
“Hey, I just got into, uh, town.”
Uncle Aemon only chuckled. “Yes, I warned you it was quite small. I’ll meet you at the coffee shop.”
He gave her the same directions he had three days before. And really, navigating Queenscrown would be simple. After doing her undergrad in Meereen, and stumbling across the enormous city from one pyramid to the next trying to find the correct room, this campus was easy. A dozen streets in either direction. A park around the central block that housed the towering wolf head fountain beside her. The coffee shop was already in sight.
Dany crossed the quiet street and entered, sighing in relief at the warm aroma of rich coffee and sweet sugars. She’s not had a decent cup since she’d passed through Riverrun. Not a single shop north of the Neck had been worth the stop. Everything was too bland or sweet or burnt. Her hopes weren’t high for this place either.
Inside, the shop was busy at least. University logos and landscape paintings of the North covered the old brick walls. Signs warned of wights and ice demons. Students milled about with steaming cups and laptops, their heads covered in a slouchy beanie. Dany joined the queue, replying to her brother’s million worried texts that she’d arrived safe. Then answering Missandei, who had spammed her with pictures of herself and Grey on their usual end of summer trip to her mother’s home on Naath. Just a glimpse of white sandy beaches was almost enough to warm Dany up.
“Would you like to take the black today?”
Dany glanced up as she reached the counter. Her brain shorted out like a running hairdryer splashing into a full bathtub. The barista squinted at her in a broody sort of way, but gods, if he wasn’t the most delicious thing in sight. His black curls were knotted back, just a few wispy ones sprung loose on his forehead. A pair of round, silver-framed glasses were perched on his nose, spotted with dried splatters of coffee and fog from the steamy machines. His eyes were a dark magnetic gray as sweet as the smile he offered. And his pants…
Her gaze fell sharply down his firmly muscled body, right to the painted on black jeans that left little up to her stalled imagination.
“Miss?”
Dany startled. “What, sorry?”
“Do you… are you ready to order? I’d suggest taking the black, if you’re doing coffee.”
At once, her eyes fell to the comfortable bulge of his dark crotch.
“Taking the… black?”
When Dany looked up, the barista was grinning in a sheepish, knowing sort of way. He seemed to be used to such attention. Her blush came hard and fast as he nodded upward to the menu that offered her an answer.
“It’s our name,” he told her. “Take the Black, specialty drink only found here in Queenscrown. So, uh, would you like to Take the Black today?”
“Iced, please.”
He took her name for her cup, and told her he’d have it out soon. Embarrassed and red-faced, Dany found a table by the bright front window tucked out of sight of the counter. She hadn’t even gotten the man’s name. But even half-hidden by the counter and machines, he was as handsome as ever in his gray henley and loose scarlet and black plaid flannel. Up close or far away, he was a feast. Of everything she’d expected the North to offer up, an attractive barista hadn’t made the list.
“Gods, I’m pathetic.”
“What was that, dear?”
Her old uncle was right behind her, his faithful guide dog at his hip.
“Nothing, nothing, oh, it’s so good to see you!”
She hugged him long and hard, gave Samwell a few gentle pats and a biscuit on the table when Uncle Aemon told her to grab one. It was then she realized a little glass canister was set on every rickety table, stuffed full of what appeared to be home-made dog biscuits. Her uncle’s guide dog gobbled it up happily, then rested on the floor between their chairs.
“Have you ordered yet, my dear?”
“Yes, I got a, uh,” Dany checked the sign again. “An Iced Take the Black.”
“I’m sure Jon was thrilled to hear it,” Uncle Aemon said. “He’s been pushing that new specialty drink all summer, ah, here he is.”
How her blinded old uncle could sense the barista’s approach in the noisy, crowded shop was beyond Dany, but when she twisted around she found Aemon was correct. The gorgeous man was just behind her, one iced coffee for her and a steaming mug that he set in front of Uncle Aemon.
“On the house, Dr. Targaryen, as always.”
The two shook hands. He was so close the masking scent of coffee was mixed with a piney smell that was both sharp and fresh. Dany shifted as his warm hip brushed her arm.
“Jon, thank you. But please—”
“Nope, you’re on the house. Learned enough from your classes to make up the cost.” Jon smiled at him as the door chimed with new visitors. “If you need anything, just let me know.”
He disappeared behind the counter, Dany’s eyes following him, her stomach writhing in delight as she caught her first glimpse of his backside.
Those jeans should be fined and arrested.
“Daenerys?”
“What? Did you say… something?”
Her uncle shook his head. “I suppose that settles what I’ve always been told.”
“What do you mean?” She chanced another glance at Jon and found his eyes on her, too.
“All my students simply gush about how hot the barista here is,” he told her. “Some of the lewd things they say about the poor boy. You’d think he was a piece of meat.”
But what sort of lewd things do they do with him?
Dany’s face burned hotter, this time in shame. She shouldn’t think such thoughts of a man she’d not even been properly introduced to, and yet…
Every time he stepped out from behind the counter, Dany’s eyes tracked his taut ass around the shop. If her uncle noticed her random silences, he didn’t comment. They spent most of the afternoon discussing her degree, upcoming class registration, and then finally her housing situation.
“I’ve got a few places lined up to look at, Uncle. Don’t worry. Rhaegar does enough of that for the whole continent.”
“Where at and with whom?”
Dany sighed, but told him. Queenscrown was so remote and small, she hadn’t found a lot of options for room rentals in her online hunt. There weren’t any apartment complexes to apply for either. Her only options were the dorms that cost a fortunate each semester or finding a room over one of the shops in town.
He vetoed the first address at once. “That’s old Jeor’s son,” Aemon told her. “He’s been in town scoping out the shop ever since his father passed it onto someone other than him.”
“What shop?” Dany gave him a flabbergasted look when he gestured toward the walls. “Wait, this shop? He’s creeping on a coffee shop?”
“He believes it should be his, but Jeor signed it away to Jon before he passed. Best avoid Jorah Mormont, Daenerys. But the other spot…” Uncle Aemon chuckled and finished his mug. “Well, you’re already on site, my dear.”
“On… no. ”
She twisted around to stare at Jon once more, and found his eyes upon her. The shop’s crowd had mostly emptied out, enough that she was sure he could hear her over the lull of generic rock music. He gave her an earth-melting smile, then ducked behind the counter. When he arrived at their table a second time, it was with another steaming mug of tea for Aemon, a fresh biscotti, and clean eyeglasses.
“Anything else I can get you, Dany?”
All she could do was stammer at him, both cheeks burning hotter the longer she was left flailing. Finally, Aemon spoke for her.
“Actually, I believe my great-niece has an appointment to look at the room you have for rent.”
Jon only grinned wider at that. “Aye, I know. Recognized you by the hair.”
“The hair— excuse you?”
His smile fell at her anger. “I don’t mean anything bad,” he said. “Dr. Targaryen’s got a million pictures of all his nieces and nephews in his office. When you emailed about the room, you gave your surname. Wasn’t hard to puzzle together.”
Dany tugged at one of her loose silver-gold locks and frowned at him. Her hair was rather distinct. Only her niece, Rhaenys, didn’t have the family’s pale as moonlight hair.
“I’ll wait while you go up and look,” Uncle Aemon said as he slurped his tea. “Do say hi to Ghost for me.”
“There’s a ghost?”
But Dany was already on her feet, swinging her purse around like a weapon. It seemed enough to make Jon leery of her as he flipped the sign on the door, then led her into the back and up a staircase to the second floor.
“That door there leads to the alley out back, so you don’t have to cut through the shop,” Jon explained as they passed by the frosted glass door. “And a parking space in the alley, too. Bit tight, but you get used to it.”
They climbed up to a hallway-like landing on the second floor. “This is it.”
He unlocked the only door and led her inside. She’d expected the same worn old bricks from the shop and stairwell. Or something dark and moody like Jon’s outfit. Instead, beams of golden sunlight filled the bright apartment. The entire front wall was four towering windows, looking down onto the street and fountain park. A couch was on one side, a TV on the other. In between, lined up exactly in a long sunbeam, was a gigantic white dog.
“That’s Ghost,” Jon told her, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “He’s huge, but just a big baby really. Most days, he’s down in the shop with me, begging for biscuits.”
Dany gazed at the enormous dog who hadn’t so much as opened his eyes at their arrival.
“Does he pay rent, too?”
Jon chuckled. Just the sound, all deep and sultry and warm, made her knees tremble.
“No, he brings in quite a bit in tips though, so he does his dog best. Right, boy?”
Ghost didn’t move, but he gave a soft woof of acknowledgement from his sunbeam. Jon rolled his eyes and nodded toward the kitchen.
“Have a look around if you want,” he told her. “Main space is shared. It’s not much, but it’s big enough for three.”
“Three?”
“Me, Arya, and you, if you decide to rent the room.”
“And Arya is…?”
The door right beside them slammed open. Dany jumped away as a tornado of a girl rushed out, half in her shirt, one sock on her foot, the other in her hand. She looked so remarkably similar to Jon that Dany was certain they were related. Same dark hair and gray eyes and long faces.
“Why didn’t you wake me?! I’m late! ”
Jon gave her a blank look. “I’m not your alarm clock, little sister.”
“Ugh!”
Dany watched the girl dart around the room, stuffing random things into her backpack—an apple, a book, a beanie. She hopped about as she tugged her other sock onto her bare foot, righted her shirt, then hustled to the door.
“You’re an ass .”
“You’ve got to learn responsibility somehow, Arya,” Jon said.
His sister flipped him off, pushed her socked feet into a pair of boots beside the door and left.
“Freshman,” Jon said by way of explanation. “She’ll get the hang of it soon enough.”
Dany considered the fondness in his voice, the easy way he and his sister had spoken with one another despite the argument. She’d never had that with her brothers. Rhaegar was twice her age, more father than brother. Even his own children were older than her by several years. And Viserys, while closer in age, had rarely been better than a bully.
“It can take time to find your college legs,” Dany agreed. “I’m sure with a brother like you around she’ll figure it out.”
“Cousin, technically.” Jon shrugged at her baffled look. “I was raised by her parents. The sister thing is a bit of a joke. Mostly.”
“You two could be twins.”
He shrugged again and led her down a short hall past a decent-sized bathroom. “I take after my mother. Arya takes after her father. They looked nearly as much alike as me and her.”
Jon opened the last door. “This is the room for rent. Comes with all the furniture in here, if you need it. I can put it in storage if you’ve got your own, but most people don’t when you’re coming this far north. Mattress is new, too.”
For the price, it was a very nice space. A desk and wardrobe were provided, and a little stand she could put a TV on if she wished. The bed wasn’t the twin she’d been expecting, but a double.
“And utilities are included?”
“Yes.”
“And is it just the one bathroom?”
Jon grimaced. “Kind of. There’s the one between your rooms for you and Arya to share, but I’ve got one upstairs in my room, too. I don’t mind visitors using it, if necessary.”
Dany returned to the kitchen, taking in the decent appliances, the rough wood dining table, the well-sized TV in the living room. Everything was clean and not too orderly. All in all, it was far more than she’d hoped to find in such a small town. He was watching her from the counter, almost nervous as she examined the space.
“I don’t suppose free coffee comes as an additional perk?”
He grinned. “Maybe once or twice. But you can expect breakfast leftovers if you get up before Arya. I’m up before dawn to open the shop. Odds are you’ll beat Arya to what I leave behind.”
“I’ll take it.”
Three weeks later, with most of her belongings unpacked and a real introduction to Arya and Ghost, Dany was quite settled into her new room. Her tiny car fit perfectly in her parking spot behind the building. Ghost was truly just a big warm lovebug. Every morning after Jon left, he pawed at her door. If she let him inside, he curled up at the end of her bed, right over her cold feet. Arya, apparently, wouldn’t let him in.
“He takes up the whole bed,” she told Dany one morning in late September. “Jon spoils him.”
Arya tossed Ghost a piece of sausage from the marvelous breakfast Jon had left behind. He had proven to be as spectacular at cooking as he was at coffee making. Dany laughed as Ghost gobbled the sausage up.
“What?” Arya glared at her, then shoved a forkful of scrambled eggs into her mouth.
“You spoil him, too,” Dany told her as Ghost wagged his tail and sat at their hips. His big red eyes were fixed on Arya. “Feeding him from the table.”
Arya frowned down at Ghost’s hopeful face. He was truly adorable, with his shaggy white fur, perky ears, and lolling tongue.
“You’re a big brat.”
Ghost pawed at her leg.
“Oh, fine.”
Arya tipped the rest of her sausage onto the floor. As Ghost devoured it, Dany laughed and laughed. She’d yet to see anyone who could say no to the big dog. He was simply too sweet. They finished off their breakfast together, grabbed their bags, and headed downstairs. The overwhelming aroma of coffee invaded Dany’s nose as soon as they left the apartment. The machine upstairs was fine, but it didn’t hold a candle to the drinks Jon made.
“I’ve got my first class somewhere in the library today,” Arya was saying as they reached the ground floor. “They’re supposed to show us how to do research in some database. As if we don’t know how to— oi, you can get stuffed! ”
Dany leapt out of the way as Arya lunged for the backdoor. She slammed it shut on a man’s hairy arm. He yelped as the door’s edge was jammed into his skin, his fingers flailing.
“Get lost, Mormont! This is my brother’s shop, not yours!”
“It isn’t—”
He pushed back on the door he’d been breaking into, but Dany hurried over to help. Between her and Arya, they managed to close and lock it. Arya raised up on her toes and locked the extra three bolts at the top of the door.
“He always forgets to lock the top ones.” Arya glared at Jorah Mormont’s shadow through the frosted glass. “Go on! Get!”
His appearances at their backdoor were a bi-weekly occurrence. Dany made a point to check the locks every night after that. Jon, at least, seemed grateful for it. He thanked her with a specialty cup of coffee each morning as September tumbled into October—a cup that Arya was flabbergasted by. Whenever she asked her cousin for one, Jon gave her the total and held out his hand.
“But I’m your favorite ,” Arya reminded him on Halloween morning. “I should get—”
“Your wallet out and pay for that seven dollars worth of coffee you just demanded of me.” Jon dodged Arya’s fist, and scooped Dany’s to-go cup off the counter. It wasn’t even the standard recyclable cup, but a ceramic one with the university logo and the shop’s on the other side. Jon was as muscled and beautiful as ever, grinning in a sweet, almost awkward, way that knotted her belly into pretzels. “Your Take the Black, my lady.”
Dany thanked him.
“You realize he wants to kiss you, right?” Arya demanded when they were across the street, cutting through the fountain park to Alysanne Hall. “Like, Jon’s so into you it’s sickening.”
“He is not .” Dany sipped her coffee, contributing the sudden warmth in her face to the heat of her drink. Today’s cup was a sweet cinnamon chai latte. Every week Jon tried something new. “Jon just appreciates me locking up with him every night, that’s all. I’m sure if you did it instead, it’d be your fancy cup each morning.”
Arya made a noise of disbelief. “He’s so into you. Like, pining and moping and probably fantasizing about you sneaking up to his room one night for a good f—”
“Jon isn’t like that!”
“Is so! I’ve seen how Jon is when he moons over someone.”
“He’s just a grateful roommate, not a moony-faced boy, so you should get your eyes checked.”
Arya flipped her off.
She laughed as they headed their separate ways inside Alysanne Hall, her for her weekly meeting with Uncle Aemon and Arya for her Statistics course. But Arya’s words lingered on her walk to the fourth floor. Jon was a sweet man, very attentive and kind despite his bouts of surly brooding. More nights than not, Dany sat in the coffee shop while she studied, keeping Jon company as he served the plethora of late night students. He was distracting, of course, but on the slow nights, he sat with her, and talked. Dany found him an intelligent conversationalist, though his wights and zombies interest were rather odd. He was sharp of wit, and well-versed in history. Their friendship had been as simple as blinking.
“Another history paper?” he asked her later that same October night. “Looks boring.”
Outside, the first snowfall of the season had begun in earnest. Dany was sipping her paid for latte, trying her best not to mess up the foam art Jon had created on top. It was only a series of hearts, the smaller ones inside the larger, but Dany smiled everytime she looked down at it in her cup.
“It’s research,” Dany explained, though her eyes were out the window with the students in the park. A snowball fight was in the works. She’d never seen such a sight in person before. “On the erasure of Naathi women from Meereenese history, and their contributions to the foundation of their society and culture.”
“Hmm, not so boring then.” Jon glanced out the window as the fat flakes fell. “Your first snowfall?”
Dany flushed. “Is it that obvious?”
“Aye, your eyes are sparkling in wonder,” Jon told her. He used his sleeve to wipe the fog off the shop’s window. “Looks like they’re having fun.”
“Yes, it does.”
And they were. The group of students were shouting and laughing and chasing each other all over the little park, flinging snow as they went. Dany didn’t know any of them. In fact, because she was a graduate student, she hardly knew anybody at all on campus. Her few classes were only four or five students each. Most of her time was focused on her own research and meeting with Uncle Aemon, who was her mentor for her thesis. Mingling with the younger students didn’t happen often.
“You should go join them,” Jon said, watching her carefully. “Nothing like fresh snow, or the smell of it in the air.”
Dany nodded, took another sip of her coffee, one hand rubbing Ghost’s head were it rested on her lap. When she still didn’t move to join the students outside, Jon stood up. He wiped his hands on his shoulder towel, and flipped the open sign to closed.
“Come on, it’s dead in here anyway.”
“But the shop—it’s only four, Jon.”
“And this is Daenerys Targaryen’s first snowfall,” Jon told her as he ducked behind the counter to turn all of the machines off. “And as a true man of the North, I am going to show you a good time of it.”
His cheeks were only a little pink at his pronouncement. Dany set her finished mug on the counter for him to rinse.
“Are you sure? You’ll miss half your business.”
“Nah, first snowfall here means everyone is off having fun, and going to the Commons for the free hot cocoa.” Jon locked up the shop. “Go grab your many coats and gloves. Ghost and I will meet you in the alley.”
He was true to his word, standing in the cold in nothing but his usual plaid flannel and a simple beanie. Jon at least had gloves on as Ghost raised his leg on the dumpster.
“I don’t know how you aren’t freezing,” Dany muttered. She’d pulled on four layers of shirts and jackets under her puffy coat. Two pairs of gloves. Long underwear over her panties, then her thickest jeans. Earmuffs and a fleece hat and a thick scarf Rhaenys had made her. “I’m still cold with all this on.”
Jon snorted as Ghost flopped over and began to make wriggly shapes in the snow next to Jon’s motorcycle.
“You wait until New Year’s,” he told her as they made the short walk around the row of buildings to the park. “We won’t see anything above zero until the end of March.”
“Above zero? ”
“What’d you expect this far north? Bikinis and sunny beaches?”
“Ugh.”
Dany was shivering by the time they reached the park. Her toes were frozen, her face stiff and numb. Jon was grinning as he stuck his tongue out and caught a giant snowflake on the tip. She watched the way it melted on contact, the teasing curl of his tongue as he drew it back in.
“Try it.”
Dany made a face of distaste. “But it’s… you don’t know where it’s been.”
“Don’t know where Ghost has had his mouth, but you still let him kiss all over you.”
She conceded his point. Ghost was already racing through the thick snowfall, leaping and rolling and bursting with happiness. Dany squeezed her eyes shut and stuck out her tongue. Snowflakes fell on her cheeks like icy dust. Jon started laughing at her, and when she opened her eyes, he was bent over trying to collect himself.
“Jon Snow, if you’re going to be rude , then I don’t know why you forced me out into this popsicle hell!”
“I’m not—you’re just—” He chortled again and steadied himself. “Eyes open, Dany. How’re you going to catch a snowflake on your tongue if you look like you’re waiting for a crow to poop on it?”
Dany flipped him off, but did as instructed. She poked her tongue out, squinting to keep the snow from her eyes, shifting and wagging her tongue until one landed on the tip. Jon grinned at her shout of success. It was frosty, a taste she could only describe as cold and soft. Somehow, she’d expected the same soothing chill of sucking on an ice cube. But snow had a taste all its own.
“How’s your first snowflake?”
“It’s—”
A snowball smacked her in the face, exploding in a great puff of cold powder. Dany yelped as Ghost hurried to her, barking and wagging his tail as Jon scampered across the park out of range.
“Jon Snow, I will—I’m going to—” Dany screamed as another perfectly formed snowball sailed past her. “How are you doing that?!”
In her hands, the snow just crumbled when she tried to sculpt it into a ball. The more she tried, the worse it got. Jon peered out from behind the empty fountain.
“Like this.”
Then he launched another one at her. Dany was hit in the leg, shaking the wet-cold off and finally giving up on her snowball making abilities. She chased after him, running as fast as her frozen little legs would go. Jon was always a step ahead in his big boots, tossing snowballs back at her as if they were shooting from his fingertips. Finally, Ghost cut him off, growling and barking and leaping in for kisses. Together, she and Ghost tackled him into the snow.
“Okay, okay, hey!”
She couldn’t form a snowball, but that didn’t stop Dany from slinging handfuls of snow into his face. They laughed and fought, tumbling through the snow as Ghost barked and ran in circles around them.
“I thought this was supposed to be fun ,” Dany said as she sat up. She flung one last cold handful in his face. “You’re just being mean.”
He chuckled at her pointed pout, scooped up a handful of snow. “Here, like this. It’s not the best snow for packing, but we don’t get much of that up here. Usually, it’s too cold for it. This isn’t wet enough. So…”
Jon spat into the handful of snow he had, then sculpted it into a reasonable ball. Dany, however, made a terrible face.
“You threw spit at me?”
“Suppose I did,” Jon said, his face red from the cold and laughter. He’d opted for contacts instead of glasses today, and Dany was glad for it. The paleness of the snow brought out the beautiful gray of his eyes. “You don’t like my spit?”
“I didn’t say that.” The words were out before she could think too much of them, but once they were hanging in the silence between them, Dany was mortified. “I didn’t—I only meant—what else do you do in the snow?”
Jon’s breath mingled in the air with hers, but he didn’t call her on the lightning fast topic change.
“Forts, sledding, snow angels.”
“What are those? A big snow sculpted angel?”
He shook his head as he stood up, then wandered a few feet away to an untouched spot of snow. Jon turned his back to it, then fell over. Dany hurried to help him up, but he seemed fine. He was moving his arms and legs, shoving the snow about as if to clear it. When he was done, Jon raised his hand to her, and Dany heaved him upright.
“A snow angel,” Jon said, gesturing to the place he’d been. She could see it then, the impression in the snow. “Ghost tries,” he added, nodding toward his dog a dozen feet away where he was wriggling about like an angry snake. “Mostly he just makes a mess. Want to try?”
Dany eased herself into the snow next to Jon’s angel, laughing as Ghost came over to give her kisses. Jon heaved her upright once she was done. Together, they admired their pair of snowy angels, even as the falling snow began to fill them up.
He looped his arm around her shoulders and squeezed. “We should get inside, warm up. That’s the next best part of a snow day,” Jon told her. “Getting cozy by the fire with your favorite hot beverage.”
“Mmm, are you offering me free coffee, Jon Snow?”
His eyes met hers, warm and soft and far too bright. “Definitely.”
She hardly realized she was raising up to meet him, Jon’s face tilting lower to hers. Suddenly, her shivers disappeared. Jon’s warm eyes were everything. The snowflakes coating his dark curls, his hat lost somewhere in the snow. His lips had justb brushed hers, when Ghost wedged his way between them, whining and barking and pawing at Jon’s leg.
“Damnit, Ghost.” And Jon looked truly disappointed even as Ghost bite his pant leg and started tugging him to a line of bushes across the park. “What? Ghost, stop. Enough. Boy, what-- oh .”
Dany could see very clearly what Jon’s sweet dog had found. Ghost released Jon and crawled back into the bushes where a trio of mewling kittens were hiding. Jon was already on his knees, scooping the three out. She unwound her scarf to wrap them in.
“Look at you sweethearts. Oh, you precious babies.”
Jon looked all around for signs of more kittens or their mother. “Nothing,” he muttered as he stood up and scratched the black one’s head. “Let’s get them inside before Ghost has a meltdown.”
The dog was dancing around their knees, whining and pacing as he eyed the kittens wrapped in her scarf.
Back in their apartment, they both stripped their snow-covered wet clothing at the door, down to their undershirts and long underwear. Jon dug out an old basket to put the kittens in, so they could look each over. Ghost, however, was having none of it. The first chance he got, Ghost grabbed the basket handle and carried the mewling trio over to his big plush dog bed. He made a very careful blanket nest, nudged the three into it, then curled up around them.
“He’s a regular mother,” Jon said is bafflement.
“They’re adorable,” Dany reminded him. “And going to need names?”
“Names?”
“Every pet needs a name.”
Jon gave her a look of disbelief. “We can’t keep them.”
“Ghost says otherwise.”
“Dany, we can’t. This apartment is too small for seven beings.”
Ghost growled at him, then began to give the kittens a very slobbery bath.
“We aren’t keeping them,” Jon insisted. “That’s final.”
Finals came in a flurry of snowstorms and rampaging kittens. Despite Jon’s protests, he’d fallen as in love with their new roommates as Arya insisted he was with her. Dany flat out refused to acknowledge Arya’s adamant reasons for Jon adoring her.
“Jon is not in love with me.”
“Then why’d he go in for a kiss that day in the park?”
Dany glowered at her friend as Arya continued packing her suitcase. “I regret telling you that.”
“No, you don’t.” Arya dumped half her sock drawer into her suitcase, considered it, and zipped it shut. “Same as you don’t regret wanting to kiss him any chance you get.”
Those chances, admittedly, had been few since Halloween. Both her and Jon had been too embarrassed to discuss their almost kiss and too busy taming the wild little kittens they’d adopted. The day Dany had named them—two for her brothers and the third for her old university’s mascot—was as close as they’d gotten.
“And I also regret you hiding mistletoe all over the apartment,” Dany told her. “It’s like a kissing death trap in here.”
“Good.” Arya gave her a pointed look as she rolled her suitcase into the hall. “Just tug him in close and kiss him. He’d probably cry in relief. Right now would be a good time since he’s naked and in the shower.”
“You’re impossible.”
“And you two are revolting.”
Drogon screamed as he raced past, batting a Christmas ornament across the floor. They’d put up the little fake tree Jon had in storage, then very quickly taken it down after the kittens knocked it over twice in the first hour. Most of the ornaments, however, were lost all over the apartment.
“We’re just… it’s complicated.”
“Wouldn’t be if you’d just kiss him,” Arya insisted. “You’ve got the whole apartment to yourselves.”
Across the room, something glass shattered as Rhaegal and Viserion wrestled on the coffee table.
“I mean, sort of.” Arya winced as Drogon tried to climb her leg. “Get off, you!”
Dany snatched him up before Arya could fling him off. At once, he was calm, purring and rubbing his face against her chin.
“Anyway, I’m gonna miss my train. See you in a week!”
She was left alone with their three crazy kittens and Ghost dozing in his favorite sunbeam. After the first two weeks of mothering the trio to death, he’d been as lazy as could be since they’d begun to eat on their own.
“You’re a terrible mother,” Dany scolded him. “Look at the mess your babies are making.”
Ghost began to snore.
Overhead, the floorboards creaked, then the stairs that led up to Jon’s room. When he appeared, Dany almost dropped tiny Drogon. Jon was wearing nothing but a towel around his waist, his beard and curls dripping wet.
“What’s happened? I heard something shatter. If Mormont tried to break in again I’ll—”
“It was… you’re naked.”
“Huh?” Jon squinted at her, then at his muscular chest and abs, the narrow line of his hips and the beginnings of the trimmed hair that disappeared under his towel. “Oh, I was in the shower. Was it Mormont?”
“Oh, no,” Dany said, completely distracted and boiling at all the slick hard muscle before her. “No, just the kittens. A glass.”
Jon nodded, then returned to his bathroom. She stood there in silence, listening to the shower cut back on overhead. Her body was like a heatwave, a fire exploding out of an engine.
Arya’s right, I should just kiss him until I stop wanting him so much.
Part of her hoped that would be never. The rest of her feared what that might mean.
Dany cleaned up the broken glass cup, feed Ghost and the kittens, and was just curling up on the couch when Jon returned. This time he was clothed in jeans and a loose sweatshirt.
He dodged the mistletoe Arya had hung at the bottom of the stairs, and scooped Viserion up before he could climb the back of the couch.
“Any dinner plans?”
“Pizza?”
Jon agreed. They settled in for their quiet night. Campus was officially closed. Classes wouldn’t resume until after the New Year. Everybody had gone home for the holidays except the handful of locals, herself, and Jon. The trip home was too expensive for her, and with the kittens they needed to have someone here. Jon, for whatever reason, was staying, too. Instead of going back to Winterfell with Arya to visit his family, he’d decided to stay here with her.
“Suppose we can invite Dr. Targaryen over for Christmas dinner on Thursday,” Jon said as they munched on pizza and knocked their begging kittens aside. “The three of us could be nice.”
“Seven,” Dany reminded him as Ghost joining the begging for pizza party. “I still don’t get why you decided to stay here instead of going to see your family. Winterfell is so much closer than King’s Landing.”
His smile fell. Jon shoved the rest of his slice into his mouth and plucked Rhaegal up to snuggle against his chest. The little brown tabby seemed quite pleased to have been chosen. He settled right over Jon’s heart and shut his big green eyes.
“My uncle’s house…” Jon steeled himself like he was about to say something he’d rather not. “He’s great, Uncle Ned. Never been anything but a loving uncle to me. And his wife, too. She’s always been kind to me, treated me like one of her own since… since my mother died. It’s just not the same without her. I’d rather stay here, with you.”
“Oh.” Dany picked at a pepperoni on her slice. “It’s a bit like that for me at my brother’s, too. My dad died when I was a baby, but my mom… I was thirteen.”
“Eleven for me.”
Viserion nibbled at her pepperoni, but for once Dany didn’t stop him. She scratched his tiny head, let Drogon climb up onto her shoulder, then tilted her head the other way to rest on Jon’s.
“What about your dad?”
Jon’s cheek pressed against her head. “I never met him. Mom didn’t talk about him at all. She was all I really needed though.”
They stayed like that, the pizza forgotten as the kittens curled up on them and went to sleep. Jon adjusted his head resting against hers and when he took her hand, Dany shut her eyes and smiled.
It was almost dawn when their talk dwindled to sleepy yawns and drooping chins.
“We should go to bed,” Jon mumbled as Ghost came over and offered his shaggy back to the kittens. All three climbed abroad at once, taking a Ghost ride up the stairs to Jon’s room. “Ghost, no. That’s…”
They were already gone. Jon sighed as he stretched and stood up. He offered his hand to her and Dany accepted it gratefully—then stumbled into him and sent them both tumbling over on to the bottom stair.
She snorted. “Sorry. I’m just s-s-s-o tired,” Dany yawned.
Jon laughed as they untangled themselves and sat up on the step. Ghost’s nails clicked on the wooden stairs behind them. He was kitten-free—a sure sign he’d deposited them on Jon’s bed.
“What? You come to carry us off to bed, too?”
Ghost only took a seat at the top of the stairs, his tail thumping happily.
“What, you goof?”
He gave a short bark, raised himself up on his hind legs, eyes fixed on the ceiling above them. Dany knew what was there before she even looked up. Arya had decorated half the apartment in mistletoe. Jon gave the little plant a look of trepidation. They were right beneath it.
“We don’t have to, if you don’t want to,” Jon said at once. “I mean, I know we almost… but we’re friends. Roommates. We don’t need to—”
Dany grabbed him by the collar and kissed him. He gasped into her kiss, tugging back in surprise. Jon stared at her in amazement for so long that Dany’s insides began to twist in fear. Had she misunderstood? Did Jon not like her as much as Arya insisted he did? Had she—
He leaned in and kissed her. It was softer than her rendition, a gentle caress as he tasted her, then sucked at the full plumpness of her bottom lip. Dany pressed into him, sighing, letting his tongue mingle with hers. They kissed until she could hardly breathe. Her lips swollen and tingling, her body humming with want.
For a few moments, they held each other.
Then they both said, “Arya was right.”
Dany’s eyes shot open. Jon was already chuckling and cursing.
“She always has to be right, that little shit.” He swore again. “We can’t tell her, you realize that? We’ll never live it down if she knows we got together because of her stupid mistletoe and meddling.”
“Hmm, we could continue this makeout session on her bed,” Dany said. At Jon’s startled look, she began laughing, too. “What? That’ll teach her not to set her roommates up with each other.”
Jon’s gaze shifted to Arya’s bedroom door. “It’ll be pretty cramped,” he said. “She’s only got a twin.”
“I get to be on top!”
Dany was on her feet and hurrying toward the door, Jon too slow to beat her. They stumbled together at the closed door, laughing and kissing as their hands wandered freely. He tucked her hair behind her ear.
“Maybe we should stick to one of our rooms,” he said. “Arya’s ideas of revenge almost always end in disaster.”
“Fine. My room? Since your bed is full of kittens and dog.”
Jon nodded and leaned down to kiss her again. “Your room it is.”