Game of Thrones - One Shots/Imagines: Part Three

Jon Snow X Greyjoy!Reader - POV

A/N - This chapter is based on the song 'POV' by Ariana Grande. The lyrics to this song are just so soft and I couldn't help but beginning coming up with a bit of a plot based around it. I hope you all enjoy it.

"Stop that this instance," Septa Mordane had bitten out at you, slapping your hand away from your mouth and effectively stopping you from chewing at the corner of your thumbnail. It was a nasty habit, one you'd had since you were barely able to walk and hadn't yet been able to rid yourself of. "Ladies don't bite their nails," she continued, shaking her head in frustration before returning her attention to Sansa as her smile returned.

You had always been a problem child in the eyes of your teachers. It wasn't that you chose to rebel, it just seemed that you were unable to follow instructions properly, and it had vexed them to no end. That exasperation had spread to you too, seeping into your day to day life. You could never explain what made you so incapable of doing as you were told, you didn't even understand it yourself, and their chastising did nothing to help. 

"Make yourself useful and find Arya for me," Septa Mordane finally uttered, drawing you out of your flustered thoughts and back into the present. "She's late," she continued, nodding towards the door as you rushed to get to your feet. 

"Yes, Septa Mordane-"

"She'll be down in the training yard with the boys, no doubt. You can start your search there."

You nodded as you slipped out of the room, releasing a soft sigh. You had been so desperate your whole life to be liked by the Septa, had attempted to be good at every single task she set for you, and yet you had failed at every turn. And now, all you were good for was running around on a hunt for the other problem child of Winterfell. 

As you pushed out into the courtyard, your forced a smile onto your face. If Jon saw the frown you had been harbouring a few moments before he would never stop questioning you about what was wrong, and you were far too set on your search to be waylaid. 

You paused for a moment when you saw the three boys setting up their firing range, all teasing and having fun, so different from the lessons you were forced to take part in. Leaning on the fence, your smile dropped for just a moment, and then Jon was headed in your direction, glancing around before pressing a quick kiss to your lips. 

"You've been set free early," he murmured, his fingers brushing your cheek for just a moment before he separated from you completely. 

You shook your head. "Not exactly," you corrected softly, wishing that he could just keep holding you for another moment. "Septa Mordane sent me Arya hunting," you explained, raising your eyebrows when he scoffed. 

"That woman is far too mean to you-"

"She's doing her best with what she has to work with," you interrupted, standing up a little straighter and clearing your throat. 

Jon's brow furrowed, his hand taking yours to keep you standing with him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

You shrugged slightly, forcing a small smile onto your lips. "I should get going-"

"No," he interrupted, his grip tightening ever so slightly. "What did you mean by that?" 

Your tongue darted out to wet your lips and your smile dropped completely replaced by a deep frown. "I don't exactly make her job easy. I can't sew, I don't understand how to run a household. Seven Hells, I can barely even follow a basic instruction without messing it up." 

"Yeah, and who's fault is that? She's been picking on you since you were a kid. You mess up sometimes because she's got you constantly on edge." His hand lifted to cup your cheek for just a moment, seemingly completely giving up on keeping your displays of affection limited in public. "You don't make her job harder, she's just doesn't do it properly." 

You swallowed around the lump in your throat before giving a short nod, pulling away from him. "I should get back," you murmured, offering him a small smile. "You don't happen to have seen Arya around here?" Jon shook his head, a frown fixed on his lips as he watched you almost completely deflate. "Fuck," you sighed, running a hand over your face in frustration, and then you were headed of to continue on your little mission.

*Time Skip*

When Jon had turned up at your door that evening, you couldn't say you were surprised. He got so protective when you were even the slightest bit stressed, and right now he was all too aware of how you were teetering on the edge. He pressed a soft kiss to the side of your head as he moved past you and into your chambers, watching as your entire body relaxed at the contact. It had always been this way. No matter the problem, he could help you solve it. He was the rational voice that was always lingering, always ready to step in when you needed him. 

Jon raised an eyebrow at your red eyes and stuffy nose. "You couldn't find Arya, huh?" he murmured, settling into the armchair in front of the fire and patting his knee for you to come and join him. 

"Septa Mordane took a great deal of joy in yelling at me," you responded, leaning into his touch and offering him a small sad smile. "Even though-" you added softly, "-she spent an entire lesson lecturing me on how unladylike it was to yell about a week ago." 

He released a small snort of laughter at your comment. "Told you it's not your fault," he uttered, his thumb running over the small of your back soothingly. "She's just a bitter old lady," he added, letting you nuzzle your face into his neck. 

"She wasn't always like that-"

"She was," he corrected, feeling you stiffen in his touch at his interruption. "I remember when you first came to Winterfell, she spent a week practically ignoring you because she thought it was wrong to teach an Iron Islander with the sweet little northern girls she had grown so attached to. She only gave in when Lord Stark insisted she taught you properly." You sighed, nodding slightly. "She made up her mind about you from the first time you met, and she's too jaded and stubborn to let you change her mind," he continued, craning his neck to look down at you with a soft smile. 

"Thank you," you murmured, taking his free hand in yours and linking your fingers. "I wish I could see the world the way you do," you added as he lifted your hands, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. 

His smile remained on his lips, his eyes fixed on your fingers, the two of you joined so perfectly. "I just wish you could see yourself the way I see you."

You released a soft chuckle, using your free hand to take his chin and force him to look into your eyes. "I don't think my ego could handle it," you teased. 

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