If Our Grave Was Watered By The Rain, Would Roses Bloom? | An Enemies-to-lovers-arranged-marriage Jonerys

If Our Grave Was Watered By the Rain, Would Roses Bloom? | An enemies-to-lovers-arranged-marriage Jonerys fic * * * Hiiii friends. It has been a little bit of time (😬) since I last posted a fic (and I am so nervous!). Just something fun I wanted to get out for Halloween this year. :) I'm not sure if it'll be a one-shot or a couple chapters but I feel confident enough that I'll actually complete it soon to post a snippet. The title is lengthy but is a line from Billie Eilish's song "Six Feet Under". Coming to an ao3 near you! 🧛🏻‍♂️💘🧙🏻‍♀️ Summary: In order to cease the centuries-long war and bloodshed between vampires and sorceresses, an armistice has been reached between the two most noble houses of Westeros in the form of marriage - Lord Snow of House Stark to Lady Daenerys of House Targaryen. However, years of hatred and resentment for the others' kind does not bode well for the union-to-be. _______________________________ “I’m surprised you showed up,” he mused dryly.

Dany crossed her arms and wrapped the cloak around her, her ears already aching from the breeze. “If I had my way, I wouldn’t have.”

A tiny smirk pulled the corner of his full lips up. “Do you always get your way?”

“Considering recent events, obviously not.”

Ignoring her snark, he waved toward a cylindrical building they were passing. “This is the library. No spellbooks though, I’m afraid.”

“I don’t need them. They’re all in my head,” Dany said.

“Do you hunt?” He inquired abruptly while they moved on.

Dany frowned. “Hunt? As in...hunt people to kill them?”

Jon sighed. “Animals. Shooting and riding out for the hunt on horseback,” he corrected neutrally.

“No, I do neither of those things.”

“We’ll have to teach you to ride, at least. It’s tradition to go with the family to hunt.”

“Well I hope you’re prepared for disappointment; I’m afraid of horses. Riding them, anyway. And I sure hope I won’t be expected to go with you when you go on your murder sprees to feed.”

Scowling, Jon considered her for a long beat, but she did not falter. “We don’t go on murder sprees anymore, and we don’t feed on innocents.”

“Charming. Witch hunts?”

“Those have been outlawed for a few years now.”

“That did a lot to stop them from killing my niece and good-sister!” She snapped, coming to a halt to reel on him.

His features tightened with anger, going toe to toe with her. “Aye, and the abolition of witchcraft as a means to torture my kind did nothing to stop the murders of people I loved, too!”

Nostrils flaring, Dany’s eyes flit between each of his, and she would swear that they had glassed over, but he backed down and went off without her before she could confirm as much. She stomped after him, to the best of her ability in the strappy heels she wore. “This is precisely what I tried telling my mother; there is no way either of us are going to make this work. We should just stop it before it happens.”

“It’s too late for that now; breaking an oath like this would just mean more war. Probably worse than all the ones before,” he said.

She bit her cheek; he was right, and she was flustered as all the seven hells by it all. To make herself feel a fraction better, she diverted away from him to a grassy field and opened her hands, pointing them toward the frosty ground. “Dracarys.”

Jon swiveled around as a heap of flames ignited a modest makeshift campfire, sans wood. She huddled close to it, shivering as her body tingled with warmth.

“Fucking hells,” Jon backed up with an arm covering his face, even though he wasn’t really that close to it. “At least warn me before you do something like that.”

“You could jump in it and that would take care of our problem,” Dany suggested with a lifted brow.

He sneered at her once he was a comfortable distance away; she didn’t realize that the heat was probably sensitive to his skin. Maybe that would keep him away from her, something she stored in the back of her mind for later. “At least you have somewhat of a sense of humor. That’s something.”