un-needed pinch-hit fic (posted as a gift via AO3)
For: linndechir
Prompt fulfilled: Stannis/Jon: Kingsguard!Jon. Stannis has a thing for the white Kingsguard armour and what it signifies (Jon being his). Cue sex while Jon is wearing the armour (or heavy making out or whatever they can manage while one of them is wearing armour).
Title: His White Knight
Author: madamechataya
Pairing: Stannis/Jon
Canon: Book
Consent Level: Consensual
Length: 1,076 words
Summary: King Stannis and the lord commander of his Kingsguard have a late night encounter.
His white knight glides into the king’s bower as quiet as a ghost. The hour is late, but Stannis sleeps no better than he did before he won the Iron Throne. His knight often finds him surveying the painted table he had moved from Dragonstone and worrying about his kingdom. Spring is upon them, but the long years of war and the brutal winter has taken a heavy toll on Westeros, one which the king fears his kingdom may never recover from.
Sometimes he wonders whether the Targaryen girl with her messianic zeal and her ability to inspire smallfolk to follow her to the ends of the world might not have been the queen Westeros needs. It is a fear Stannis has never confided to another soul. However, it makes no matter what kind of queen Daenerys might have been. She is dead, and Stannis is the king Westeros has. No one can question his claim to the throne now; he is not only the elder of two brothers of a king who left no legitimate issue, he is also the closest living legitimate relative of the beloved dragon queen.
“The numbers have been compiled, Ser Jon. A full half of our people have died since Robert’s reign: some killed outright in the wars, some of sickness, some of hunger, and many from the cold. I do not have a kingdom - I have the carcass of a kingdom.”
“Nevertheless, Your Grace, you are the king and they are your people. You will make them strong again.”
“You might have made the Night’s Watch strong again,” Stannis remarks.
“Do you regret exchanging my black cloak for a white one?”
“Do you regret accepting the white cloak?”
“No, Your Grace.”
“Good. You are of far more use to me as lord commander of my Kingsguard than you would be in the far north harrying off cannibals. I need the counsel of good, honest men like you and Lord Davos.”
“How is the Hand?”
“His wife has birthed a girl child, a minor miracle at her age.”
“Will they be accompanying him back to the city?”
“He begs my leave for his wife and younger children to remain at Cape Wrath. I cannot say I blame him. My Shireen does not like this place, but it will be hers and she must accustom herself to it even if she will never love it.” He gives Jon Snow a hard look as he speaks, for he is not only speaking of his daughter.
The Red Keep of King’s Landing has not been a good place for the Starks. Lord Rickard and his heir Brandon were murdered within these walls, and Lord Eddard was betrayed to his death. And there are whispers of the torments suffered by Sansa Stark while she was held captive by the Lannisters. Jon is not a Stark by name or law, but he has Stark blood, and Stannis knows how strong the ties of blood can be. He himself rose in rebellion against his lawful for king for the sake of the blood he shared with Robert.
“My place is not this city, Your Grace. My place is by your side - and that is a place I already love.”
Stannis is not a fool who rewards those he loves with honors. Rather he grants rewards and showers honor upon those who have proven themselves worthy, and if he comes to love such people, it is only natural and right. He loves his white knight. Black might have better suited Jon’s complexion and mien, but Stannis loves to see him dressed in his snow white armor and cloak. The day Jon put aside black and put on white, he chose Stannis for life and declared his loyalty to the whole world.
The king cups his knight’s smooth-shaven cheek, but it is Jon who draws close to Stannis and kisses him. They kiss languidly, for time is no matter. At this hour everyone else is asleep in bed, save the two of them. For a long time they do nothing but kiss, like two youths in the first bloom of love. Stannis feels like the boy he never was, and it is a good feeling.
Then Jon goes to his knees before him and looks up at him with such heat in his eyes that Stannis is warm as summer despite the cold, drafty room. It is almost unseemly how bold Jon is in using his mouth to give pleasure, but Stannis cannot complain. Jon quickly opens his breeches with practiced skill and takes the king’s rapidly hardening length into his mouth. The sight is too much: Jon, all in white, on his knees. Stannis has to close his eyes lest he reach his end too soon.
Once Robert remarked that his wife “sucks my cock like a dockside whore when she wants something” and although Stannis had no love for Cersei Lannister, he’d felt compelled to rebuke Robert for speaking of his queen in such a dishonorable manner. His brother had only laughed at him and suggested he get his cock sucked some time. Stannis can’t help but think that if any dockside whore sucks half as well as Jon, she’d be worth her weight in gold to the likes of Robert.
Jon grips the king’s buttocks with both hands and takes his whole length into his mouth. Stannis opens his eyes to watch as his knight fucks his mouth with the king’s cock. He has to touch him, so he starts to pet Jon’s dark hair. There is an element of worship to what Jon is doing and Stannis feels as much a god as a king. The base act of filling Jon’s mouth with his seed feels like a sacred dispensation, and like a true devotee, Jon swallows every drop.
Stannis does not have to tuck his cock back into his breeches; Jon does that for him before rising to his feet. The king kisses his white knight and holds him in a tight embrace for a long time. Moments like these are the only peace he’s ever known.
“Rest,” Jon urges him softly. “The kingdom and its cares will be here in the morning.”
Stannis sleeps only because he knows Jon is awake and vigilant throughout the night, a gleaming white sword between him and the darkness.
Prompt fulfilled: Stannis/Jon: Kingsguard!Jon. Stannis has a thing for the white Kingsguard armour and what it signifies (Jon being his). Cue sex while Jon is wearing the armour (or heavy making out or whatever they can manage while one of them is wearing armour).
Title: His White Knight
Author: madamechataya
Pairing: Stannis/Jon
Canon: Book
Consent Level: Consensual
Length: 1,076 words
Summary: King Stannis and the lord commander of his Kingsguard have a late night encounter.
His white knight glides into the king’s bower as quiet as a ghost. The hour is late, but Stannis sleeps no better than he did before he won the Iron Throne. His knight often finds him surveying the painted table he had moved from Dragonstone and worrying about his kingdom. Spring is upon them, but the long years of war and the brutal winter has taken a heavy toll on Westeros, one which the king fears his kingdom may never recover from.
Sometimes he wonders whether the Targaryen girl with her messianic zeal and her ability to inspire smallfolk to follow her to the ends of the world might not have been the queen Westeros needs. It is a fear Stannis has never confided to another soul. However, it makes no matter what kind of queen Daenerys might have been. She is dead, and Stannis is the king Westeros has. No one can question his claim to the throne now; he is not only the elder of two brothers of a king who left no legitimate issue, he is also the closest living legitimate relative of the beloved dragon queen.
“The numbers have been compiled, Ser Jon. A full half of our people have died since Robert’s reign: some killed outright in the wars, some of sickness, some of hunger, and many from the cold. I do not have a kingdom - I have the carcass of a kingdom.”
“Nevertheless, Your Grace, you are the king and they are your people. You will make them strong again.”
“You might have made the Night’s Watch strong again,” Stannis remarks.
“Do you regret exchanging my black cloak for a white one?”
“Do you regret accepting the white cloak?”
“No, Your Grace.”
“Good. You are of far more use to me as lord commander of my Kingsguard than you would be in the far north harrying off cannibals. I need the counsel of good, honest men like you and Lord Davos.”
“How is the Hand?”
“His wife has birthed a girl child, a minor miracle at her age.”
“Will they be accompanying him back to the city?”
“He begs my leave for his wife and younger children to remain at Cape Wrath. I cannot say I blame him. My Shireen does not like this place, but it will be hers and she must accustom herself to it even if she will never love it.” He gives Jon Snow a hard look as he speaks, for he is not only speaking of his daughter.
The Red Keep of King’s Landing has not been a good place for the Starks. Lord Rickard and his heir Brandon were murdered within these walls, and Lord Eddard was betrayed to his death. And there are whispers of the torments suffered by Sansa Stark while she was held captive by the Lannisters. Jon is not a Stark by name or law, but he has Stark blood, and Stannis knows how strong the ties of blood can be. He himself rose in rebellion against his lawful for king for the sake of the blood he shared with Robert.
“My place is not this city, Your Grace. My place is by your side - and that is a place I already love.”
Stannis is not a fool who rewards those he loves with honors. Rather he grants rewards and showers honor upon those who have proven themselves worthy, and if he comes to love such people, it is only natural and right. He loves his white knight. Black might have better suited Jon’s complexion and mien, but Stannis loves to see him dressed in his snow white armor and cloak. The day Jon put aside black and put on white, he chose Stannis for life and declared his loyalty to the whole world.
The king cups his knight’s smooth-shaven cheek, but it is Jon who draws close to Stannis and kisses him. They kiss languidly, for time is no matter. At this hour everyone else is asleep in bed, save the two of them. For a long time they do nothing but kiss, like two youths in the first bloom of love. Stannis feels like the boy he never was, and it is a good feeling.
Then Jon goes to his knees before him and looks up at him with such heat in his eyes that Stannis is warm as summer despite the cold, drafty room. It is almost unseemly how bold Jon is in using his mouth to give pleasure, but Stannis cannot complain. Jon quickly opens his breeches with practiced skill and takes the king’s rapidly hardening length into his mouth. The sight is too much: Jon, all in white, on his knees. Stannis has to close his eyes lest he reach his end too soon.
Once Robert remarked that his wife “sucks my cock like a dockside whore when she wants something” and although Stannis had no love for Cersei Lannister, he’d felt compelled to rebuke Robert for speaking of his queen in such a dishonorable manner. His brother had only laughed at him and suggested he get his cock sucked some time. Stannis can’t help but think that if any dockside whore sucks half as well as Jon, she’d be worth her weight in gold to the likes of Robert.
Jon grips the king’s buttocks with both hands and takes his whole length into his mouth. Stannis opens his eyes to watch as his knight fucks his mouth with the king’s cock. He has to touch him, so he starts to pet Jon’s dark hair. There is an element of worship to what Jon is doing and Stannis feels as much a god as a king. The base act of filling Jon’s mouth with his seed feels like a sacred dispensation, and like a true devotee, Jon swallows every drop.
Stannis does not have to tuck his cock back into his breeches; Jon does that for him before rising to his feet. The king kisses his white knight and holds him in a tight embrace for a long time. Moments like these are the only peace he’s ever known.
“Rest,” Jon urges him softly. “The kingdom and its cares will be here in the morning.”
Stannis sleeps only because he knows Jon is awake and vigilant throughout the night, a gleaming white sword between him and the darkness.