[un: whitewolf] video (backdated to before current event)

[northerndragon]

[Jon looks rough, and he sounds it, too. Under his beard, his face is mottled, and he rubs at the affected area occasionally as he talks. His voice is a low rasp.]

I am seeking my sister. You might know her as Alayne Stone. Girl with long dark hair, but might be that you can see the red in it.

She has been missing for several days. I fear that she is lost in the forest, or that someone has taken her, or —

I don’t know what to think. She is simply gone.

One other thing. It’s not so important as finding Sa— as finding Alayne.

Will you tell me what you’ve done for your curses? I’m having a bloody hard time even thinking of how to set things right with mine. [He rubs at his beard yet again.] Harder still when my mind is on my sister.

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[northerndragon]

[He sighs and looks away.]

Aye, and what if it is?

I have a few things to try. If they don’t work, I’ll try something else.

[song_of_fire]

You must understand why I am concerned. If I were to say about my back, 'what if it is?' You would not simply accept that.

[She reached back to touch his hand before letting him continue.]

What will you do?

[northerndragon]

You’re bleeding. I only have an itch.

[But when she touches his hand, he quickly runs his finger against hers. It is nice to touch her. It would be nicer if he wasn’t so afraid it would cause her more pain.]

I will try to ask the Old Gods, the gods of this place, or whoever will listen. All right?

[song_of_fire]

[She wants to be able to touch him without feeling sick or bleeding. These brief moments aren't enough. A drop of water against a parched tongue. They might have time, but for now, it was torture.]

That does reassure me.

Once this curse is lifted, we will at least have some relief. I look forward to that.

[northerndragon]

Aye.

[A long look, as he debates whether or not to say something further.]

You don’t want to kiss a face that looks like this.

[That’s not what he was thinking of saying; it’s a self-deprecating jest with a similar flavor.]

[song_of_fire]

[She knows he isn't serious. It does make her smile a bit, but that protest is on the tip of her tongue.]

I would not mind kissing it. You at least won't bleed at such attentions.

You will owe me many when this is done, to make up for the kisses we could not give this time.

[northerndragon]

[He begins to blush again. What she just said is something near what he had been weighing… only he did not want to make her bleed again.

Now that her back is clean, he hands her the cloth over her shoulder.]

You’d better be sure you like the first one, before you ask for more.

cw: slight nudity

[song_of_fire]

I have thought of it enough that I think that I will be greedy for more.

[She had imagined him a good kisser. He was stoic and held back, but somehow, she suspected that in love, he would be passionate.

She accepted the cloth, setting it aside. She would have to remain topless for a moment, dipping her vest into the water, trying to wash out the blood.]

I hope you shall like the first one.

[northerndragon]

[He hesitates for a moment, unsure of what to say. All these words that have passed between them would not, under most other circumstances, have been words, so looking for words — when speaking is not what his mouth wants to do — is occasionally troublesome.]

Sometimes a thing is sweeter for the waiting.

I think you must be like honey, Daenerys. Honey and… summer wine.

[song_of_fire]

[He never gave a sense of being poetic or good with pretty words. This was more likely his honesty rather than simple flattery and she is touched by this. Her eyes glance over her shoulder at him, smiling shyly at him.

The vest was near clean, but damp. It was heavier when she put it on now and tied it carefully.]

You have a romantic heart, Jon Snow.

[northerndragon]

[He chuckles; he looks slightly astonished.]

No.

I don’t know what to say to you right now. Only — what I was thinking. This place has been no friend to us. Any other time, I wouldn’t talk about kissing.

[song_of_fire]

I think I have made it clear that I wish to know what you are thinking. You wear such a stoic mask that I often wonder what is passing through your mind. Sweet words like those, I should like to hear them.

[It might be clumsy, but it was honest and genuine. Comparing it to Daario, Jon was unpolished when it came to wooing, but she could believe what he said.

Had she truly believed Daario's flattery? Sometimes the clumsy were far better at winning hearts.]

I see. Not talk, but kiss instead?

[northerndragon]

Aye, instead.

But my thoughts — they’re not of any great importance. I want to make things better here. I don’t know how. I want to find my sister, or at least know that she isn’t lost in the woods or some prisoner somewhere. I want to see you smile, because I like your smile.

Nothing no one could guess.

[song_of_fire]

[She wanted to reach out for him, to touch his cheek and feel his stubble against the palm of her hand. The pain stayed her hand. She could see his rash as well and imagined it would be uncomfortable.]

They may not seem important, but they are to me.

[But she would have to learn to read him soon, which she still was trying to do.]

It is easier to smile now that my back is clean.