Thread: Que Sera, Sera (random fics)

Some Jatin at last. O In the end, Jon had chosen Satin. The heart wants what the heart wants , Brady had said and after that, the decision hadn't been all that difficult to make. He had gone to Satin and wordlessly taken him into his arms and apologised because he was confused and burdened and so very weary of... everything but he wasn't about to lose the one good thing he could call his own. And it was only when the beautiful youth had secured his own arms around Jon's shuddering form that the Lord Commander began to relax at last. That had been a month ago. He had sent Brady off as the new recruiter for the Night's Watch, his reasoning being that the boy had the fortitude and was fair of face and could easily have swayed men and boys alike with tales of valour and the flashing sincerity in his pale blue eyes. Deep down, Jon only meant to distance him from himself. The parting had been mutual and painless, or so Brady made it seem. Jon hadn't heard him utter a peep ever since the night he had told him that he could no longer pretend. The former Steward had went about his days normally which Jon had found most disturbing of all. He knew it was what he had intended but perhaps it wasn't what he had wanted. It was a shameful thing for him to feel angered that Brady was taking everything so well and Satin had seen through his crumbling defenses. Dearest Satin, he made these cold nights so much more bearable. With Dolorous Edd sent off, Jon had appointed Satin the position of being the Steward to the Lord Commander which had angered many of the brothers but Jon wasn't there to please the likes of them. Perhaps it was a little selfish but Satin was a good man and a good Steward at that. He saw to his every need. Every need. Satin warmed his bed often enough. Jon didn't like to bring attention to the fact that Satin had once been a whore for the men did it often enough, but there was no denying that the years his lover had spent in the brothel worked in his favour. And Jon's . Satin made him come alive in ways Brady had never been able to accomplish. He supposed he couldn't really blame the boy. He had been just as inexperienced as Jon at the time but a part of him had always remained that way. Satin was another matter entirely. He was bold and demanding and made Jon ache in places he didn't even know he could ache. His mouth worked like magic and his hands were so very knowing. And Gods, the way he moved . He had put Jon under his spell and the Lord Commander never wished to shake it. Satin's skin was almost too soft to belong to a man and he was slender in all the right ways where Brady had been thin and sickly. His eyes were remarkably dark and often twinkled whenever Jon kissed him. Though there was nothing shy about him, Satin was still capable of tenderness and would hold Jon in his arms after they made love and simply listen while he spoke. Perhaps that was what Jon liked best about him. Satin listened . He had become Jon's peace of mind and without him, the young Lord Commander knew that he would have been lost. Months later, when Jon would discover Brady's desertion and feel forced to make an example, it wouldn't be his late father's words that would comfort him. If you take a man's life, you owe it to him to look into his eyes and hear his final words. And if you can not do that, then perhaps the man does not deserve to die. A ruler who hides behind paid executioners soon forgets what death is. Promise me that she'll be looked after, Brady had said and Jon's gaze had nearly wavered as he thought back to the sight of the recruiter's deceased mother. How easily Kevan had dismissed him and even the achingly beautiful young girl who had taken the blond for a husband. The trust in her eyes. The pain . Jon had been given no choice. He had taken her husband from her and all he could think about was Jeyne and how he had never known her. Robb must have loved her to risk so much. Was that not why they as men did these things? For love? What is honour compared to a woman's love? What is duty against the feel of a newborn son in your arms...or the memory of a brother's smile? Words. Words always haunted him. It was his words as Lord Commander that had condemned Shana and Nelly and Brady to their fates. And with that, Jon had lifted his sword and ended a life. It was only in the privacy of his own quarters that Jon had broken down and wept. The boy hadn't uttered a word when the blade sliced through. It was an even cut. A quick and painless death but the finality of it tore at Jon's soul. He would never regret the choice that he had made, but in the end, he had only lost another friend... another brother. He had only been vaguely aware of Satin's presence but then the Steward had taken him into his arms and Jon had cried into the raven's curls until he could cry no more. I know, Satin had said soothingly, I know. But it won't always hurt, Jon. It won't always hurt. And even though Jon had felt as though his heart would never mend, he had believed him. Somehow, Satin had forced his way past the pain and numbed the hurt until Jon could face the world once more. Jon had wiped his face and pressed his forehead to his lover's, simply allowing himself to breathe in his life. Satin's very aura was far more calming than anything he had ever known. At long last, he had pulled away and asked but one thing of the Steward. Bring me his bow, he had requested. And Satin understood.