Jon Snow sat on his bed, a sultry expression on his face as his hand moved rhythmically beneath the sheets. He was lost in thought, daydreaming about the stable girl he had seen earlier that day. He didn’t notice the door to his room creak open, and he certainly didn’t notice his mother, Lyanna Stark, enter the room.
Lyanna stood in the doorway, her face a mask of shock and disgust as she took in the scene before her. Jon’s face turned beet red as he quickly tried to hide his actions, but it was too late.
Lyanna raised an eyebrow and leaned against the door frame, a smirk playing on her lips. “Well, well, well. I didn’t know you had it in you, Jon.”
Jon spluttered, trying to come up with an excuse, but Lyanna cut him off. “Don’t bother, I’ve seen it all before.”
Jon’s face fell, and he looked at his mother with a mix of embarrassment and anger. “You have no right to judge me, Mother.”
Lyanna laughed, a loud, booming sound that filled the room. “Oh, Jon. I’m not judging you. I’m just surprised you’re finally taking after your father.”
Jon’s face twisted in confusion. “What do you mean?”
Lyanna pushed herself off the door frame and walked over to Jon’s bed, sitting down next to him. “Your father was quite the ladies’ man, Jon. I’m sure he would be proud to see you following in his footsteps.”
Jon’s face turned even redder, if that was possible. “I don’t want to be like Father. I want to be my own person.”
Lyanna chuckled and ruffled Jon’s hair. “You can’t escape your heritage, Jon. It’s in your blood.”
Jon pulled away from his mother’s touch, his expression darkening. “I don’t want it. I don’t want any of it.”
Lyanna’s face softened, and she put a hand on Jon’s shoulder. “Jon, you can’t run from who you are. You have to embrace it.”
Jon looked away, his jaw clenched. “I don’t need your advice, Mother. I can figure it out on my own.”
Lyanna stood up, a playful smile on her face. “Well, if you ever need any help, you know where to find me.” She winked at Jon and left the room, leaving Jon to stew in his own thoughts.
He couldn’t believe his mother had caught him in the act. And to make matters worse, she had compared him to his father, a man Jon barely remembered. He didn’t want to be like his father, he wanted to forge his own path. But as he lay in his bed, he couldn’t help but wonder if his mother was right. Was he destined to be like his father, no matter how hard he tried to resist?
Only time would tell. But for now, Jon was content to wallow in his embarrassment and anger. He would figure it out on his own, he was sure of it. He just needed some time to clear his head and come up with a plan.
And so, Jon lay in his bed, the sheets tangled around his legs as he thought about his future. He didn’t know what it held, but he was determined to make it his own, no matter what his mother or anyone else had to say about it.
Want to know how it ends?
This is just the opening chapter. Continue the saga — or write a steamy tale starring you.