Clandestine. 》 Tyrion Lannister 《

Hypocrite

She was tired of fighting with Jon, and if this letter was going to be what stopped it, she would read it a thousand times. She missed him terribly, and missed having him as a best friend rather than an enemy. Tyrion didn't mind when she vented to him, but he had to be sick of it by now, especially because most of the time it was Jon who she complained about. She wanted to end the tension and awkwardness between her and Jon, but she also wanted to give Tyrion a break. He deserved it, and so much more.

As she stared at the letter on the table in front of her, she felt her hands start to shake. Letters made her nervous, even if they held good news. She glanced at Jon as she picked up the parchment, which shook like a leaf in her fingers and tried to hide her nervous frown.

“It's fine,” he promised. He stood up, placing his hand on her shoulder, and gave it an encouraging squeeze.

She blew air through her closed lips, and ran her hand through her hair. “Here goes nothing," she said as she watched him sit across from her.

Nephew,

I’ve asked Daenerys to hold onto this letter until she saw fit, and if you are reading it, you've done something drastic.

I understand your resentment toward the Lannisters, and believe me when I say that I've always hated them as well. I know you feel as though you need to protect Galena, and that there is no way you would ever let her be with one of them. I used to feel the same way, but things change.

Do you remember the night the King’s party arrived in Winterfell? Your father witnessed a glance exchanged between Tyrion and Lena that he deemed inappropriate, and the second he told me about it, I vowed I would never allow him near her. The night of the feast, much to my dismay, I stumbled upon them at the stables sharing a drink together. Of course I blamed him, but Lena swore to me that he was not the one whose idea it was to drink, that it was hers, and that he even questioned it.

He was a man she barely knew, but the way she defended him amazed me. There was a spark between them, and I hated every bit of it. I even forbade them from being in the same room together. Of course your father laughed in my face and told me I had nothing to worry about, seemingly forgetting about the look he had mentioned to me earlier.

And now, years later, the spark remains and is stronger than ever. Your queen told me everything that has transpired between them. From his saving her from exile on the first day she arrived, to their sneaking around to hide from you, to his threatening Theon when he was well aware that he would not win.

Jon, I know how hard it is to let go of past grudges and pain, and I know how the death of your father haunts you, and it will until the day you die, but you must let this go. She did not lie when she told you I approve of him.

If I recall, you were once in her position. Let her be happy. Let her be with the man she loves, and with the man who loves her.

If they are to marry, please escort her. And tell my sweetest girl I love her and that I couldn't be more proud of her. I may not get to see her again.

Benjen

When she looked up from the letter she wasn't sure if she should smile or not. She wasn't sure how to react because she wasn't sure how he would react. She stared straight into his eyes, refraining from showing any emotion, but her stomach was doing flips. Seeing her father's handwriting always made for a wonderful surprise, and being called my sweetest girl, even when it was only through ink, brought back so many wonderful memories she could have sworn her father was standing right there beside her.

"Are you alright?" Jon asked quietly.

She smiled faintly as she placed the parchment on the table and ran her fingers over it. "It's just nice to see him, even if it is just through his horrible penmanship and his letters."

He grinned and smiled at her. "I like them, too."

As he reached for his letter, she slid it back toward her. She didn't want to spoil the pleasure he got from it, but she wanted answers.

"What does this mean, Jon? Why did you have me read it?" she asked as politely as possible.

He stood up and snatched it from her hand. He rolled it up and tightened his fists around it. "I'm a hypocrite, Lena," he sighed. "There was a girl-"

"Ygritte?" she blurted out. She didn't mean to interrupt him, and she didn't think he would take kindly to the know-it-all smirk that snuck up on her. She reached for her mug of ale to hide her face behind it once again.

He tilted his head at her, much like Obsidian did when she heard a particular word she favored.

"You know about her?" he asked in wonderment, so softly it was barely above a whisper.

She blinked slowly, taking in the pain that showed in his eyes. "Sansa told me about her. You loved her."

He cleared his throat and swallowed down a lump. "I still do," he nodded painfully.

"Hmm," she tittered through her nose. She smiled at him with pity, and she was sure it was apparent; just as apparent as his love for his Wilding was. "I'm sorry, Jon," she said in a soft voice. "I'm sorry you had to witness her..." She looked to the floor, knowing she didn't need to finish her sentence, and then took his hand in hers.

He shook his head and chuckled awkwardly. "It doesn't matter now, but thank you."

When he looked into her eyes she saw genuine anguish and sorrow. Both for Ygritte and himself, and maybe for her. She wanted to somehow make it all go away. She wished she could slice through it with Winter, or sic her direwolf on it, or even exile it, but she knew there was no way to make such agony disappear. She hated seeing him this way.

"I know I've said this before, and too much, but I am sorry, Lena." He squeezed her hand and wrinkled his face to fight back the water that welled in his eyes. "I don't expect you to believe me, but-"

She couldn't bear it any longer and wrapped her arms around his torso. "I believe you, Jon," she whispered into his chest as he returned her gesture. "I swear to you."

He sniffled as he pulled away from her embrace and held onto her shoulders. "I didn't care what anyone thought," he revealed. "I was hers, and she was mine. I loved her more than life itself, and I would have married her." He stifled a laugh and added, "Once we were done trying to kill one another."

She snickered at him and smiled once more. "I'm happy you were able to experience love, even if it was for such a short time."

He wrinkled his brow and ran his hand through his hair, and she could tell that he didn't wish to speak of his loss any longer. "As I said, I am a hypocrite, and your father helped me to realize it. He was right."

She rolled her eyes. "Like usual."

"Galena," he breathed, ignoring her sarcasm, as he tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, "you have my blessing. No more lying and scheming, no more hostilities or threats. You no longer need to hide in dark corners with him. If Tyrion is who you long for, if he is who you wish to be with, and who you want to marry, I support it. I support you and him, with all of my being."

She tighten her eyes to let his words sink in, and for the first time in a long time, she didn't doubt a word he said, and it felt almost as good as hearing him finally, and honestly, accepting how important Tyrion was to her. "Thank you, Jon," she whispered as she met his eyes with hers.

"I don't want to disappoint Benjen," he said as he kissed her cheek, "so tell me, would you allow me the honor of escorting you down the aisle?"

If there was anyone worthy of such a thing, it was Jon, but when she tried to speak, nothing came out of her mouth. All she was able to do was nod and fight back happy tears.

"You'll name your first son after me, won't you? Jon Lannister sounds pretty good to me," he teased as his hands engulfed hers like a blanket.

She tilted her head up at him and squinted an eye as a snicker escaped her nose. "I'll think about it."