Fic: Some sort of secret - Jon/Arya {Translation}

[natsu_z]

Some sort of secret

Written by Lady Bee

Translated/Adapted by Natsu-z

To , tabacoychanel fellow writer and shipper.

Fandom: Game of Thrones/ A Song of Ice and Fire
Pairing: Jon Snow/Arya Stark
Summary: After all, Jon never needed vows and ceremonies. He would have done anything she wanted willingly and would do much more if she asked him. Future!AU,
[Might be spoilery, since this theory is kind of accepted as canon]
where Jon is Rhaegar and Lyanna’s son, heir to the Iron Throne and Arya’s cousin. Their marriage was arranged due to politics.

Rating: M
Original posted here.

Notes: Translation is something very complicated because of the structure of each idiom, so it’s quite impossible not to adapt expressions and even some sentences. Also, this is unbetaed and I’m not a native english-speaker. The authoress used many typically brazilian expressions so I did my best to find equivalents.
I’m sorry for any mistakes. Feedback is appreciated!


Sometimes he wished she was more like the sweet Southern ladies instead of just following her every impulse, trampling whatever she had to along the way. But if Arya had been any different he might not feel for her a third of what he felt. Even so, it would be nice if  she was reasonable once in awhile and understood that a Queen should not be in the battlefield.
The men rose to greet her, but the sight of that small Lady from the North, wearing an armor and carrying a sword attached to her belt was much more than what any of the lords would have expected. That was a war council and Arya insisted on knowing every detail of the plans to take the capital.
King's Landing was the last stand of what was left of the Lannister army. In less than half a year, almost all the great lords of Westeros had bowed the knee before Jon Targaryen. He was the King, even though he was a bastard king. The support of House Tyrell would come soon, it was just a matter of time until the Flower decided that now support the Lion was not so advantageous. Marrying Margaery Tyrell to Rickon should be enough to seal the deal.
Although the battle was practically won, it would still be a bloody clash of great proportions. A Queen should stay away from the battlefield, securely guarded by a group of loyal soldiers and at the slightest setback, be taken to a safe place. It was what he wanted Arya to understand, but his young wife would never accept it willingly.
She was sitting next to Bran, analyzing the maps before her with attention. Jon knew that was pointless because she had redone all the steps at least a hundred times with him. That meeting was only to define the movement of each of the lords and who would command the regiments.
It was needless to say she wanted to command the men from the North in the battle, assuming the posts of Bran and Rickon, to her that was the only viable solution. Jon would prefer that the command was given to Glover, or even Umber, but Arya would defend her rights at all costs. He took a deep breath and prepared himself for the worst.
Tyrion seemed to know what was about to happen at the council tent. Bran remained calm while he drank a glass of wine. Brienne stood behind her mistress, as the faithful squire and friend she was, and if a king had the right to have some peace of mind, Jon’s was due to the fact that while Brienne lived, Arya was safe.

All he wanted was for Arya to understand ... understand that this marriage was no longer just a matter of convenience and politics. It never was.
She did not refuse him when he sought her to fulfill their conjugal duties, but the distance in between them was always ceremonious and calculated. In the past they used to hug each other and laugh together, she used to kiss him whenever Jon made her a treat. She used to like him.
Of course she liked him. They had grown up together as siblings. Now that they had met again, they were strangers to one another and first cousins​​, and that made the union between them providential for the course of the war. Arya gave him the North and all its power on the day she took her vows under the heart tree. And now all the subjects expected her to give him an heir as soon as possible.

There has been no time for such. Three days after the wedding they marched south and the battles began. Besides the wedding night, Jon sought her only two other times and decided there was no need to insist on it while King's Landing was not taken. If Arya conceived in the midst of war, she would be even more coveted prey for their enemies.
He summoned her to his tent at least three times during the week, to keep the appearances. They spent hours talking about the battle plans or the strategies to be used and what men should be in this or that mission. Arya was intelligent and skilled with the administration of the finances, accepting more than once Tyrion’s highly cunning instructions and learning quickly all she had to rule by his side.
Sometimes, when the days were peaceful and there was little to discuss, they talked about the past and the memories they had of Winterfell and the time he called her sister. Oddly, the only time they talked about that Jon ended up sleeping with her.
In the middle of politics, war and the necessary attitudes, feelings became very confusing. He liked her, as always had. He cared about her as a brother, a cousin, spouse, or whatever he was to her now, should.
But that slender woman, with a solemn face and eyes full of determination, was not his bold little sister, she was a stranger. Nevertheless, his heart clenched at the thought of her being hurt and he wanted to hold her, wanted to kiss her mouth, as they did sometimes in the dead of night, and forget his fear of losing her.

Tyrion began to announce the lords and their regiments positions during battle. Obviously not everyone was content with their assignments, but finally accepted the royal order and raised their voices to proclaim their pride and promises to kill every damn Lannister they saw along the way.
Arya listened in silence until the moment that Lord Glover was given the task of leading the Stark men in battle. She stared at Tyrion with an incredulous and angry countenance, then turning her head to face Jon and look him in the eyes.
“Your Grace, I believe there is a mistake here.” She said with a firm voice. “As much as Lord Glover’s abilities in battle are remarkable, the men of the North must be led by a Stark.”
“My dear sister.” Bran quickly came to the rescue of the king “I’ve conveyed the command to the honored Lord Glover, since I'm not able to command the army due to the state my legs.”
“I thought my lord brother had given me this honor.” She said through gritted teeth “Nymeria will not obey someone else, and the rest of the pack can not participate in the attack without her.”
“My Lady, the enemy’s army is severely reduced and aware of our approach. The wolves would only be necessary if it was a surprise attack, which is not the case.” Tyrion said with diplomacy. “The Council agrees that it would be more appropriate to keep you safe, out of the battle.”
“The Knights of the North will not march into battle without me!” Arya protested getting up “You my lords are mistaken if you think I'll be sitting in the background watching the men loyal to my house be slaughtered!”
“My Lady, it is necessary to keep you safe. As there is the possibility that you are carrying an heir to the throne, we cannot risk endangering you and the child.” Tyrion insisted, logically, while none of the other men dared open their mouths to counter the Queen.
“Arya, this discussion is meaningless. You must admit that the Tyrion’s arguments are quite reasonable.” Bran said, being practical.
“I refuse!” She snapped angrily. “Your Grace, I demand that my blood rights are respected!”
Jon took a deep breath and kept his face serious. “I can not favor you in this matter, my lady. Lord Tyrion is right and the council has already decided on the matter. It is better to stay in the background during the attack.”
“I am not your property, you cannot tell me what I should or should not do! I will not obey this stupidity” Arya punched the table while the Lords stared at one another, without knowing what to do.
“You are not my property, but you are a subject like everyone here” Jon replied with conviction “When you made the vow before the heart tree, you promised you would be loyal and obedient while you lived. As for your King and your husband, I tell you what to do and expect obedience!”
And for a moment he hesitated and almost apologized for the harsh words I said to her. Arya walked away from the table and Jon could have sworn her eyes were red because of unshed tears, but she did not shed a single drop. She didn’t say anything else, the whole scene had humiliation enough for both.
“Lady Brienne, I would like you to accompany my lady wife back to my tent and made her company.” Jon addressed the woman knight with education but also an unwavering tone of command.
He noticed how Arya's hand was close to the cup of wine from which occasionally Bran sipped. It would be so easy for her to brag the cup and throw wine at him, making the situation even worse. That was a war and his authority as a leader could not be challenged by anyone, much less by his wife.
“Immediately, Your Grace.” Brienne answered as she stepped aside to make way for the angry Queen.
Arya turned her back to him and left the Council’s tent, walking towards the Royal pavilion as Jon had determined. He remained calm and asked Tyrion to proceed with the assignments, while the embarrassment hovered in every inch of the tent.

When the Council was over, Jon felt exhausted. On the next morning they would march to the decisive battle, even though the prospects were favorable, a soldier’s fears may emerge when the battle is about to begin.
The men soon dispersed to prepare for the attack, leaving only the King, Bran and Tyrion in the tent. The two latter did not even need to open their mouths to let the others know what was on their minds. The Imp got down from his chair and tried to offer Jon an encouraging smile.
“At least we know that Your Grace will never be bored in her company.”  Tyrion said straightening his clothes. “but it would be nice if our beloved queen had a little more tact when speaking in the presence of so many men on the eve of an attack like this.”
“Tact is something that we gave up teaching to my sister when she was four.” Bran replied “Arya is driven by a survival instinct and her own impulses. She is smart, she is able to take very good care of herself alone, but I admit that sometimes she forgets to think before speaking. Ironically, she decided to do this in front of all the subordinates, ignoring the fact that she is now the Queen and that Jon is the King.”
Jon took a deep breath while rolling up one of the maps that were on the table and tried to ignore for a few seconds the dilemma in which he was trapped.
“I scolded in front of everyone, she fell silent and left the council. What else could I do? Did you expected me to slap her to assure my authority? I would not. Hitting a woman does not prove honor, or ability to command, only proves stupidity and cruelty.” Jon replied firmly “What happened can’t be changed and I will not talk about this again.”
“Very well.” Tyrion agreed with a nod “but it would be good to let our beloved Queen know the kind of problems that these bursts may cause the morale of the troops. Should we keep Glover leading the men of the North?
“Of course.” Jon answered without hesitation “My lady will be in the rear of the troops protected by soldiers and Lady Brienne.”
“She should have been sent to the Eyre. At least there she would be in total security.” Bran snapped, but Tyrion shook his head reprovingly.
“No, my dear Lord Stark. Your sister is the reason why the Northern armies fight alongside us, and several times she proved to be a skillful commander when she was still a maid. Lady Sansa's loyalty has become questionable after her relationship with Littlefinger and the Gods know that our Queen could end up burying a sword on her sister in the middle of a discussion whatsoever.”
“Tyrion is right. Arya and Sansa are as similar as water and oil. Arya is better here. At least she is not confined to a castle and have all the freedom to handle her weapons.”Jon said solemnly.
“Not to mention that she is at your reach, an advantage that should be more explored, in my opinion.” Bran said sipping some more wine. “A king needs heirs and strangely there is no sign that there is one on the way, so far. I wonder why.”
“This is none of your concern.” Jon cut Bran’s ramblings “if you'll excuse me, I have business to attend to before the dawn.”

He left the tent and his two counselors back. If there was a matter in the world he'd rather not deal with publicly, was his intimacy with his young wife. These were the only thoughts that Jon could decide not to share with anyone.
Jon strode by the camp, occasionally being hailed by soldiers and minor lords on the way to the royal pavilion. His wife was furious and ready to throw anything at hand against him and Jon would have to handle the situation, and make her understand that this time it was necessary for her to stay out of battle, without having any hope that it could work .
His grandfather, Aerys, the Mad King, was accused of treating his wife with the same delicacy he treated the ones suspect of treason. Robert Baratheon hit Cersei Lannister when they were married. Possibly more than half of his men would have used a good dose of truculence to silence any woman who defied them with the same insolence that Arya had used at the council, but Jon would never act like them on this regard.
The gods had witnessed on the day he had knelt beside her in the weirwoods, that none of the words uttered by Jon were in vain.
He vowed to protect her and care for her, he vowed to honor her and meet her needs. He swore loyalty and kindness. He swore to her that his first and last thoughts each day would be hers, but that was already an habit for him since long before this compromise between them.
After all, Jon never needed vows and ceremonies. He would have done anything she wanted willingly and would do much more if she asked him.
Inevitably, he remembered the first night, when he felt her little body under his. The first time he saw her naked and how Arya seemed strangely frightened. Still, she kissed him fondly and timidly helped him to stay calm until he was asleep, holding her by the waist.
He was so afraid of hurting her, afraid that he was not able to take that damn plan to the end and now Jon realized how wrong he was. He loved her that night and he suspected there was no turning back now.

Jon reached the entrance of the royal pavilion and took a deep breath before entering.
Brienne was trying to persuade her Lady to drink some wine, as she finished undoing Arya’s armor. By the time Jon was seen in the tent, the woman knight bowed a little.
“Thank you for your services, Lady Brienne. I would like to have a few words alone with my lady wife.” Jon said politely, Arya didn’t even turn her head.
“Of course, Your Grace”  and with a brief reverence the tall woman left the royal tent.
Arya walked away from him without even looking at him directly. Silence hovered above them, severe and oppressive. Jon took off his cloak and gloves, leaving them on the table as he thought of a way to start the conversation.
“Forgive me for being so harsh with you, it was not my intention to offend or humiliate you.” He said quietly, pondering each word.
“Is that all you have to say?” She asked dryly.
“No. I would also like to inform you that should remain in the rear of the troops, accompanied by a small escort until it is safe.” Jon said calmly.
“I said I'm not going to sit and wait while this bloody battle ensues!” She practically growled.
“Mind the tone you use with me.” Jon scolded without raising his voice “It is already decided and I will  not change my mind, even if I don’t live long enough to see the end of your complaints.”
She clenched her fists in response.
“This is ridiculous.” She grumbled “I'm not expecting any child and we both know it.”
“Could you please make an effort to understand what I'm saying?” He insisted “This is not the only matter. Arya, keep you safe gives hope to the people that there will  be an heir soon. Also, most of our allies agree that you've done enough for our cause and that now is the time to protect you. More traditionalist factions not see with good eyes your performance in this campaign.”
“To the seven hells with the traditionalist factions! If I am your Queen, then you should get used to the idea that I will not be a mere adornment in court!” She finally turned to face him, furious and uncontrollable like a storm. “The night before our wedding you asked me to help you fulfill your duties as a ruler and that's what I’ve been trying to do and now they want to stop me!”
Jon drove his hand to his temples.
“Can’t you understand?” He said, his voice even more serious “How can I focus on battle when all I can think is that you can be pierced by an enemy sword at any moment? I did not get this far, I have not fought all these battles to get to King's Landing alone!”
Jon let himself fall  on a chair nearby while trying to regain composure and organize his thoughts. Of all the women of the world he had to marry the most stubborn of them all.

There was a time when he knew her like the back of his hand. They completed each other’s phrases and laughed together. She complained about the scolding she received from every family member and ran to him every time, seeking protection or comfort. But like the palm of his burnt hand, now Arya was a stranger and he needed to learn to deal with this new woman.

“You won’t be alone.” Her voice was barely audible, a whisper.
“I can not predict that.” He said in severe tone “All  I can do is  take precautions, but I admit that you are making things very difficult for me.”
“I took of care of myself for a long time, Jon. Believe it or not, I don’t need protection, all this is unnecessary” She spoke softly now.
She did not need him after all, that was what she meant. Jon had given her a sword and a crown supported by a illegitimate nobility. Obviously the only thing with value was the sword, at least that was the only thing she would consider. Arya never wanted the crown, or his affection as a man.
No. All she wanted was her bastard half-brother back. The one who would do all she wanted and would always see her like an eternal troublemaker child. Jon believed that Arya knew it was no longer possible, not after the first kiss, not after the wedding and the night that he had her for the first time.
How many times he had reprimanded himself for that uncontrollable feeling? Jon had already lost account and, even though it was distressing to deny his desires, he still respected her to the point of avoiding as much as he could, to demand for her conjugal duties. He could force Arya to stay away from a battlefield, but he would not force her to love him back and share his bed if this was not her will. And for a royal couple, that ended up becoming a huge problem.

“Maybe I should have gone with Asha and helped with the attack by sea.” Arya said, turning her back to him. Jon immediately clenched his fists at the suggestion. Go with Asha Greyjoy to Storm’s End, where the Baratheon bastard ruled.
“Surely Gendry would love to have your presence in the cabin of his ship. As if that bastard had not already dreamed enough about it.” Jon muttered grumpy. Arya laughed.
“Now you're being ridiculous.” She answered “Gendry is a good friend, nothing more. Stop referring to him as that bastard; until recently that was what Your Grace was called.”
“That wretch had the audacity to flirt with you in front of me and he knew we were already married!” Jon argued “I should have had his head on a spike instead of recognizing him as heir to Storm’s End!”
“He was not flirting with me, he was teasing me. Just as he used to in the past! - Arya insisted on Gendry’s defense.
“Oh, then I guess I should be satisfied with the fact that this kind of teasing did not take you to his bed.” Jon rose from his chair “Calling you by affectionate names and telling you how you look lovely when you look like a woman and is wearing a dress! The only thing he didn’t say was how you would look stunning not wearing it, and my lady still has the courage to say that preferred to be at Storm’s End!”
“When did you begin saying such absurds? The only thing I said was that I would be helping with the attack by sea, and that I would be much more useful to you there, other than here!” Arya said exasperated “I can’t stand it!  I’ll have to watch you go to battle while I'm here, waiting for news and praying for your safety. I need something to keep me busy, I need to feel useful somehow. Can’t you understand?”
Jon walked to where she stood. He lifted her face with one hand and stroked her her cheek with his thumb. Arya's cheeks gained a distinct shade of pink. When she was blushing, he could almost believe she was like the maidens of the songs, who accepted the affections of their knights and loved them back. Arya was a Queen of illusions.

“The gods are good. This will be a quick battle and soon I will be back to escort you to King's Landing, so that people can admire their new sovereigns.” He said gently “You don’t have to worry.”
“To the seven hells with the people and the kingdom!  My oath was to you. The Gods wanted you to be king and now I am forced to tolerate it, but regardless of the crown on my head, I  swore to always help you in all difficulties and you want to stop me!” She said in the same passionate way that she used to talk as a child. Those eyes, that strength, that new beauty she had made ​​her so attractive to him.
May the gods forbid, but he loved her desperately and was sure there would come a day that any feeling of affection she felt for him would be lost.
“Do you want me to help you?” He asked hoarsely.
“Yes” She answered firmly.
His right hand curled behind her neck and eliminated the distance between their mouths. Their lips collided clumsily. It did not take long for her to give way for his tongue. Jon allowed himself to savor her mouth, Arya drove one of her hands to the back of his neck, making the kiss a little more intimate and less indifferent.
With his free arm he held her by the waist, bringing their bodies together, it was as if the world was about to end and all he wanted was to have one last memory of what it was like to have her body next to him.
At a certain moment, Arya pressed her palms to his chest, pushing him away from her. Jon took a few seconds to process the information that she did not want him in that moment. The taste of frustration was in suddenly in his mouth and his thoughts were running too fast in his mind.
For once he wanted her to go after him, to at least show any sign of attraction for him, but apparently this was something unimaginable. She walked away, running a hand through her hair, that was a sign of nervousness, and trying to slow down her breathing.
“What ...” She tried to think clearly “We are on the eve of a battle, this is not the time for that, Jon.” She said breathlessly.
Jon walked up to her again, wrapping one of his arms around her waist and bringing her closer. That should be wrong for him, he should feel that everything was out of place, but he kept in his mind the that they were not siblings, they had never been. Years living as such did not change that fact. Arya was his wife, by law and tradition. All he wanted was for her to accept that as he did.
“And what do you think a man searches on the eve of the battle? Right now there must be hundreds of whores sneaking between the tents. The lonely men serving in the army...”  He said hoarsely next to her ear “They want to forget that in the morning there will be a bloodbath, forget that they can die within hours. All they want is to enjoy the time they have left in the arms of a woman. I'm not so different.”
“I don’t want to think about it now.” She mumbled as she felt his fingers on her ​​exposed neck. Arya closed her eyes in response.

On the night of their marriage she was handed to him completely naked, stripped piece by piece by all the noblemen present. Measured and assessed, exposed in every way, as if the confusing thoughts about marrying Jon weren’t enough. That night they found themselves naked in front of each other for the first time and her body trembled violently.
Shame, fear and so many other conflicting emotions passed across her face that he could barely look at her, but still, he could not help feeling attracted to that body. After that night, there had always existed some kind of barrier in between them. A cold detachment that required a good deal of patience and skill on his part to bypass the resistance of it.
The other times began with conversations, about the time when both of them lived at Winterfell, and first kisses emerged almost by accident when one of them was already sleepy. Then they would slowly undress and find more comfortable positions in each other's arms until the act was consummated.
One time she was sitting on his lap, her head resting on Jon’s shoulder, as she tried to remain awake. The exchanged caresses progressed until she was straddling him and all that Jon had to do was kiss her as she push her hips down until he was buried completely inside her.
He could not forget her facial expression at that moment. Biting her lower lip and breathing hard, flushed cheeks, her gray eyes staring into his. Arya moved her hips against his and Jon pulled her closer until she embraced him, her whole body shaking with pleasure as he surrendered to his own release.
Now, more than ever, Jon needed her. If he could not have some comfort, something to help him bear the burden of being a commander in battle and a king for all those men, and for his own wife as well, then he better not dare to march into King's Landing. He had learned his lesson. Never fall in love, especially with your wife.

He kissed her neck, causing her to shiver. His mouth sought the lobe of her ear, licking and nibbling lightly. Arya seemed to relax in his arms.
“You said he wanted to help me.” His voice was hoarse against her ear “Don’t. .. Don’t refuse me. Not today. I need you.”
“Jon ...” Her voice was a whispered, a sign of surrender. His hands rested on her hips, eventually sliding over her stomach. Arya turned in his arms to face him.
Her eyes were gray-blue, like the sea on a stormy day, or the sky on rainy days. She had suffered and seen things he could never imagine. He knew that Arya was a partially made of forged steel, protecting herself from any possible external aggression, but within those eyes ... There was his "little sister”, there was always the one he loved more than any other Stark. The woman he loved.
He leaned over her and kissed her again. It wasn’t a furtive kiss, almost accidental as at other times. Jon knew what he wanted and as a conqueror taking over a land, he took her lips without hesitation, without even thinking twice.
Her arms wrapped around his neck, while Jon’s hands undid the ties of the dress she wore, until he felt her skin, soft and warm against his fingers.
For the first time she seemed receptive to it. Arya tried to unbuckle his belt then slid off his heavy tunic. He led her to the makeshift bed in which they slept every night. She looked like some kind of deity as she laid before him, completely naked.
Jon got rid of the rest of his clothes as fast as he could. The sight of her body, so small and slender seemed too appealing to be ignored. The scene reminded him of their first night together, when had to be careful not to hurt her. She looked so frightened back then.

Now she stared at him, her cheeks flushed, her hair disheveled and her thin arms trying to cover her exposed breasts. She waited for him, to fulfill her promise to help him, as someone who pays a mere favor. In his mind. she was all that mattered now, but for Arya he was just a burden she would have to endure.
He swept those thoughts away as he crawled over her. He kissed her forehead, her cheeks, gently descending until he reached her mouth.
Arya spread her legs for him to accommodate in between her thighs. She could feel his heavy breath against the skin of her neck as he kissed it. One of his hands cupped her breast, squeezing the nipple.Jon kissed her breasts, sucking on them with more force than the first few times he had done that. The suction was almost painful and yet Arya found herself closing her eyes and biting her lip to contain an obscene moan.
His hand sought the warmth in between her legs, analysing if she was ready to receive him. On the first night he had that stimulate her for a long time so he could complete the act and be able to give her pleasure too. It was with great surprise that he found her hot and wet, allowing two of his fingers to penetrate her while he massaged her pleasure spot with his thumb.
Arya closed her eyes as she felt it, her legs clamped shut and it seemed a request. She did not want to be mistaken with that kind of incomplete pleasure. She wanted him. She wanted him inside her.
Jon withdrew his fingers and without thinking twice and replaced them with his hardness. Arya bit down on his shoulder hard. He had hurt her, and he could tell by force she used to bite him, but Jon was not able to register the pain. He began to move with firm thrusts, always seeking to go deeper and deeper, speeding up as her body began to move under his.
The delicacies were put aside. All he wanted was to bury himself inside her as if this were the last day of his life. Arya was soon moaning and occasionally moans became screams, short and sharp. She clasped his waist with her ​​long legs at the moment her whole body shuddered and her felt terribly humid around him.
Jon resisted longer, long enough for her to regain her senses at the approach of a second orgasm. He thrusted one last time, feeling relief and pleasure cloud his mind, barely processing the sensation of her tightening around him for a second time.
He laid exhausted beside her, pulling her to rest her head against his chest. Arya's hand was resting on his racing heart.
“You are calmer now?” Her voice sounded low.
“I was not nervous, but if  you want to know whether it was good or not, I can say that I feel much better now.” He said with a smirk on his lips.
“Will you let me command the regiment tomorrow?” She asked cautiously.
“No.” Jon replied with conviction.
“So it was not so good.” She concluded and he laughed at the comment.
“It doesn’t matter how good it was, you're not going to the battlefield tomorrow.” He said, laughing.
“There’s no harm in trying. Asha tricked me, she said you'd do anything for me after some time in bed.” Arya shrugged. Jon stared at her with a raised eyebrow.
“I didn’t know you talked about that with Asha. I wonder what other things you two discuss.”
“I am supposed to please you, am I not? That’s what a queen should do and also a wife.”
“You shouldn’t worry about that.” He paused and kissed the top of her head “A king must also please his queen, like a husband should please his wife. Sometimes ... Sometimes I wondered if I'll ever truly please you.”
“What do you mean?” Arya rose slightly to face him. Jon stroked her face.
“You grew up calling me brother, knowing I was a bastard and the last thing you wanted was to become a wife and have to act like a lady for the rest of your life.” Jon said looking at her in the eyes “Now you have to call me my Lord  or your Grace when we're in public, you must behave like a lady and measure your words. I am no longer your brother, I doubt if I'm still even a friend, but I sure I'm your husband. I don’t know if you ever felt happy about it, but I’m more than grateful. You're on my side and try to help me in every way possible.”
“It's the least I can do.” She said quietly.
“And much more than I could ask.” Jon sounded wistful “I don’t know if I ever loved a woman I’ve laid with, but I'm sure I’ve always loved you.”
“I was always your little sister, I always loved you too.” He doubted that Arya had understood the magnitude of what he had said. At least he knew she loved him somehow.
“We are not siblings.” He stroked her face.

Silence fell upon them once more. Jon hugged her tighter as helt his heart beat faster. That was the point where he could no longer keep to himself what had been stuck in his throat for so long.
“I have something to tell you.” He whispered, suspicious that she might have fallen asleep “It's a secret...”
He brushed a lock of her hair away from her eyes.
“I think I love you ... and not the way I should love my little sister.” He kissed the top of her head. There was no answer. Jon closed his eyes and let sleep take over.

When he fell asleep, Arya opened her eyes and her face relaxed admired him. Jon always had so much to worry about, so many problems to solve ... All she wanted was to help him, because that's what you do for people you love. He didn’t have to tell his secret, because it would not change anything in what she felt for him now, but that made ​​her happy. At least she was not the only one.
It was their secret and nobody else’s. There was no need for anyone else in Westeros to know that their rulers were in love with each other. Secrets like theirs were so precious, they deserved to be kept.
The men played songs about secret loves, happy ones and tragic ones. Sansa liked those songs, but Arya never particularly liked the same things her older sister liked. At that moment the distant music was welcome. One day they would sing songs about them. The Wolf Queen and the King of Ice and Fire.
The next day he took leave of her with a kiss after she helped him with his armor. Arya watched as he gave the orders and walked away from her. His eyes were moist, but she did not cry. A Queen did not cry for sending her King to the war.

From a distance she watched the battle with Brienne standing by her side. Of course that did not last. Of course she disobeyed and ran into battle with her horse, followed by Nymeria and her pack.
She didn’t care that the Lords would complain. Jon wanted her because she had always been like that, made ​​of ice, steel and a good dose of wolves blood ran in her veins. And he wanted her as his Queen and she would be, on her own way.
When he saw her running into the battlefield, as the Queen Nymeria, a part of him feared and despaired, while another part felt a fierce pride. She had no fear, she would not surrender without a fight and she would never change no matter what the reason was. However much time had changed them, she was still Arya and he was still Jon, and they were always there for each other.

Before noon King's Landing fell. Jon ran to her recklessly, ignoring the greetings of the men who survived the battle and the dead ones on the ground. He could weep for the dead and would celebrate the victory later, at that point he just needed to know that she was safe.
He found her still with the sword in hand, watching the wolves run among the dead. Jon ran to her, took her face in his hands.
“Mad! That's what you are! I told you to stay away and here you are! And alone!”
“I was not alone. The wolves were with me.”  She protested quickly “and let me go. I'm fine.”
“You must have more Tully blood than I thought. What were you thinking?”
“I said I would help you, now recompose before anyone starts thinking that the King is in love with his Queen.” She stated with a serious tone.
“That would be inappropriate, I suppose.”
She nodded.
“You should be celebrating the victory and mourning the loss of those killed on both sides.” She continued, calm and controlled “I'll be there, because that is what is expected of me at the moment. Later you can give me as many reprimands want, that does not make any difference, and I'll say I did it for you. Then all will be well.”

And they entered the city together. The people torn between terror and gratitude for everything to be over. They walked together to the Red Keep and Jon took firm steps towards the Iron Throne, which belonged to him by right and conquest.
They place a crown on his head while Arya watched proudly. He reached for her and she readily accepted the hand he offered to lead her to the throne, by his side. He placed a crown on her head and the kingdom knew that they would always be side by side, whether in politics, convenient alliances or old loyalties. And when night fell and the two were alone, they knew that the real reason transcended everything else.
One day people would sing songs about the King of Ice and Fire and his Wolf Queen.