Work Text:
Arya:
"Go away!" she heard her sister scream at her face. Her face was flushed and tears streaming down her face. The reason for the current drama in Winterfell was her cousin, Prince Jon's announcement. He was sent to Winterfell by his father King Rhaegar Targaryen to wed Sansa, as a way to make peace between the North and the crown. He arrived a year ago and quickly made a name for himself in the North. His greatest accomplishment was when he rode to the Wall and defended the sudden war waged by the King beyond the Wall. He slew the King beyond the wall himself and ended the war. The feast was arranged in Winterfell to celebrate the victory but quickly turned it's head when her stupid cousin announced that he will wed a Stark girl but not the one the people were hoping for. He stood up from his seat raising his wine high up in the air "My father sent me here to wed a Stark and I intend to fulfill it," he said amongst the cheers of other Northerners. He then turned towards to her father, Lord Stark and requested Arya's hand in marriage right in front of the whole court. The entire hall became silent and then erupted in laughter when lord Greatjon Umber shouted, "he is truly King Rhaegar's son."
Arya sighed, "I didn't know he was going to do that.'
Sansa looked at her. Her blue eyes burning with fire, "You didn't know?" she fumed."Do you think I'm stupid enough to believe that?"
Arya opened her mouth to reply but closed it as her sister continued her outburst, "I should have realized it sooner. He gave you that stupid sword and started training you."
Arya rolled her eyes, "It's not what you think. He's my greatest friend," she lied. Over the course of his stay, Arya had fallen in love with her cousin but kept her feelings inside knowing full well that it was Sansa whom he supposed to marry. He was three years older to her's sixteen.
Her sister didn't believe it, "I'm the one who supposed to marry him and be the princess of Summerhall."
Arya rolled her eyes, "That's the problem with you, Sansa. You always thought about what you want but never really cared about what others want."
"What did he sees in you?" Sansa asked in disbelief. "You are not even a proper lady. Horseface!"
That did it for Arya. She walked up to her sister in anger, "I may be the horseface but he chose me. I'll be the princess, and you will bow down to me and should be calling me as Your Grace from now on." It was at that moment her mother entered Sansa's solar and eyed Arya with disappointment. Arya knows her mother will start a rant of her own and decided to make herself unavailable. She fled from Sansa's solar and ran towards the Godswood. The path was dark, but Arya knew every step of her way. She reached the heart tree and knelt before it. She should feel wrong about what happened but deep inside she was happy. Happy that her cousin chose her instead of her sister. Jon's life would be miserable if he had married Sansa. She would have bored him to death.
She suddenly heard the footsteps, and she knew exactly who it was. "Jon," she breathed out still looking at the wierwood tree.
"I know I should have asked you in the first place, but I was afraid you will reject it stating your sister," he whispered only for her to hear.
"Of course, I would have," she replied turning around to face him. His handsome face glowed in the moonlight. His long dark brown hair, just like hers was pulled back neatly, "You were supposed to marry her."
He looked at her with a dark look, "I don't want her," he said walking towards her. She moved back to get away from him and hit the wierwood tree. "I want my she-wolf."
Arya was stunned, unable to look away from her cousin. He backed her to the heart tree and brought his face close to hers. "Don't you see cousin," he said bringing his lips close to hers, "we belong together." Arya tried to control her emotions but found it extremely hard when he brushed his lips with hers. Arya pushed him back and tried to get away from the godswood but her cousin's strong hands grabbed her and backed her against the wierwood tree. "You are the Ice to my Fire. Ours is the song of Ice and fire," he whispered and pushed his lips into hers for a fierce kiss.
Arya resisted at first, succumbed to the delicious feel of his lips into hers. Despite her better judgment, she kissed back with a moan that she barely recognizes as hers. He bit her lower lip and pushed his tongue into her mouth.
"Jon," she moaned his name. "We shouldn't do this now."
He stopped and removed his lips from hers. "You are right," he sighed bringing his forehead into hers. "You are going to be a princess and should be loved like a princess."
"What now?" she questioned.
"You are yet to answer my proposal."
"Stupid," she said and punched him in his arms just like she always does and walked away from the Godswood with a smile.
A week later...
Arya smiled brightly as her father escorted her to the heart tree. After the night at the Godswood, Jon sent a raven to his father and King Rhaegar gave his blessings for the wedding. He also informed them to get married in Winterfell itself and then there will be a separate wedding ceremony in the Sept of Baelor three moons later. Arya spared a look at her family and everyone seemed happy, everyone except Sansa. She even refused to attend the wedding, but her mother chided her to attend her sister's wedding.
Arya looked at her husband to be, and he looked handsome as ever. He stood beneath the heart tree, dressed in black and red with the three heads of the dragon sigil imprinted on his chest. His dark hair was combed away from his face, and a shadow of a beard could be seen on his chiseled jaw. He beamed at her when she came to stand before him.
"Who comes before the old gods?” Greatjon Umber, who was chosen to officiate the wedding called out.
"Arya of House Stark. A woman grown and flowered, trueborn and noble," her father announced proudly. Lord Stark wasn't the one to display his emotions but here, now he looked happy. His steel grey eyes shone brightly.
Lord Umber nodded, "And who comes to claim her?”
Jon stepped up, "I, Jon of House Stark and Targaryen, Prince of Summerhall." Just like that the wedding ceremony was over and a massive feast was arranged, the biggest in the history of the North. Everyone was already deep in their cups. Arya danced with her husband, her brothers and Ser Arthur Dayne, who accompanied Jon to Winterfell. As expected it was GreatJon Umber who called for the bedding ceremony and within a few moments, the entire hall has erupted with cheers and lots of men came towards her to escort her to the bedding chamber but stopped in the midway when they saw Ser Arthur Dayne standing before her with Ghost and Nymeria on his either sides. All three of them then escorted Arya to the bedding chamber. She went in and the room was decorated with several candles. After a few moments, she heard the sound of the door and Jon walked in, with all his clothes.
He came to stand before her and ran his fingers over her dark brown hair, removing her braid and letting her hair flow down. He closed the distance, breathing in her scent. He leaned in, so his forehead rested against her. They closed their eyes. Both their breaths were shaking. "my beautiful she-wolf," he said in barely more than a whisper.
"My dragon prince," her voice wavered, exhilarated from the tension between them.
Arya gently climbed up in her toes and kissed Jon's warm lips. Jon held Arya's head in his hands and pulled her into him for a passionate kiss. Her hands work their way around his body, feeling each crevasse, each line along his perfect physique. Jon's hands ventured over her curved body, exploring. They pull apart and opened their eyes only to stare at each other, deep into each other's eyes. Jon once again leaned in, softly kisses up and down Arya's neck. She let out little whimpers of anticipation as he worked his way back to her tender, smooth lips. She ran her lips up his neck and landed a loving and intense kiss on his lips.
He slid his hand down to Arya's leg to her thigh and grabbed her silk gown. Suddenly he removed her snow white silk wedding gown over her head leaving her with the only corset and small clothes. He growled at seeing her half-naked form, kissing her like a man possessed and ripped her corset open, leaving her chest naked and exposed.
She can’t hold back a gasp as he gripped her breasts and scraped his thumbs over her nipples. Her rosy bud nipples stood out proudly against her chest. His hands slid roughly further down her torso, stopping just above her small clothes and driving her wild.
He grabbed her ass and lifted her off from the floor. He carried her towards the ornate bed and lowered her to the mattress. She moaned again, arching further into him and clutching at his arms. He settled between on top of her and claimed her lips once again like a hungry wolf or a dragon, Arya wasn't sure. She felt a moist in her small clothes as he rubbed his hardness over her cunt. He then left a trail of kisses, his tongue trailed moist kisses along the curve of her shoulder and she sighed as delight consumed her.
Her hands slid up his muscled back and she moved her body against him, needing him to touch her everywhere. And he obliged, stroking down the length of her torso before settling his mouth over the bud that rose from her breast. Her breath was coming out in shallow pants and she couldn't seem to hold a thought in her head. Pleasure like none other was consuming her. She tangled her finger in her beloved's hair, loving him the most at that moment when he held back to give her pleasure. His tongue laved her nipples; turning the turgid peaks a darker shade of pink before his teeth bit the tip and pulled.
Arya's breath caught as her eyes rolled back in her head, the pleasure too intense for her. "Jon, please," she begged, not knowing what on seven hells she was begging for only knowing that he was the only one who could grant her what she desperately needed.
"As my princess commands," he breathed out on her chest and left a trail of kisses down. He removed his mouth just when he reached her small clothes and replaced it with his nose, inhaling her scent with a growl. Using his teeth, he lowered her small clothes and removed it completely through her leg. He then came back to her mound kissing her legs without any break. Arya let out a whimper as Jon slipped his fingers into her moist, and his thumb settling on her nub. In and out his fingers delved and she arched into his hand, wanting him to go deeper.
He spread her thighs and replaced his fingers with his mouth, all but buried his entire head between her thighs. She nudged his head gently, and he gave her a long lick with his tongue, before teasing her with short flicks. She twined her fingers through his hair and holds him there anyway, for the feel of the strands between her fingers. Her breath catches in the back of her throat when his tongue strokes over her clit, and he lingered there, slow thoughtful lapping like a wolf, as the muscles in her legs draw up tight to bend her knees around him.
Arya had never been good at lying still. She rocked her hips against his mouth, props herself up on her elbow to watch him. His hair bunches between her fingers. His eyes are closed, his tongue rasped over her again, again and again. She lost the track of her thoughts and her head rolls back on her neck as she cried out, "Oh, gods, Jon."
Her legs began to shake pretty bad and she sensed her peak was close. She’s shut her eyes and bit down her lower lip hard enough now that she’s in danger of drawing blood. Her orgasm coursed through her hard and fast and the room has gone fuzzy, the darkness closing in before she realized that she has forgotten to breathe.
She opened her eyes after a few seconds and saw Jon crawling up to her. He removed his clothes when she was in the blissful state and was naked as the day he was born. He kissed her forehead, "Tell me to stop if it pains you." Arya knew what was about to come and nodded her head. Her husband kissed her on the lips and lowered his cock slowly into her dripping wet cunt, stretching her maiden womanhood.
Pain lanced through her as he penetrated his length into her moist folds. Arya held herself rigid, unaccustomed to pain in her nether regions. "I'm sorry," he whispered kissing her earlobe. His cock was still buried deep inside her as she accustomed to the new sensation. Slowly he started moving in and out, and the pain faded away on a breeze of pleasure. Every time he rocked within her, sparks seemed to spread throughout her body.
Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around his waist and gasped as he seated himself deeper within her, his groan telling her that he liked her response. Their bodies were slick with sweat, and they molded together as he moved against her, the friction of skin upon skin bringing them to the unfamiliar ecstatic heights over the course of the next several minutes.
He was rubbing against a sensitive spot in her and Arya gasped, clutching at his shoulders as she neared some glorious pinnacle. Pinpricks of sweetness danced along her skin as she tumbled over the edge, the pleasure spiraling out of her body as she cried out and contracted around him. He followed in her wake, spilling his seed deep inside her. He collapsed onto the bed, pulling her up against him before tucking her into the curve of his shoulder.
"I love you," she whispered into his chest.
"And I you."