Thomas Brodie Sangster. In every way. I'm doing all his characters. I take any ship with him. I take any requests. ANY. So go crazy have fun and don't forget to enjoy!
P.S. I sort of entered this book into the Watty's as a joke so we'll see how that...
A/N: In this, Jojen is actually older than Meera (sorry I didn't know I was spelling her name wrong yikes) and is the heir and the oldest. He's probably about nineteen. Also this is like... WAY before he goes out to find Bran. I might do a part two for that happening and hoe things might go down with him dying and stuff. This is just some angst with insecurity and past trauma and mostly just fluff and so very many words that are all self indulgent cause I need someone to love me despite some SHIT in my past, ya know? Lol enjoy.
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Now what we were alone, I was nervous. This had finally just set in. I was married. And alone. With my husband. Who I didn't know. On the first night of our marriage. Expected to... consecrate our marriage.
When the bed sunk, I flinched. "Sorry," Jojen whispered, freezing. When I didn't respond, he sighed. "Would you like the bed to yourself for the night?" Surprised, I looked back. He was looking at the floor, as if trying to picture the set up he could put together in order to make it comfortable. When I kept looking and he finally realized I was, he looked up at me and our eyes locked. Well then. I mean, at least he was handsome. Around my age. My mother had raved about how lucky I was. In addition, he was a gentlemen too, obviously.
A nervous smile rested on my lips. "You don't have to. Might as well get used to... this." Jojen settled on a frown as he slipped under the covers and my heart fell. He hadn't smiled once since this ceremony had happened. I had met him only once before today but I had yet to see him crack even a fraction of a smile. He was so serious. I was so cheery and positive and light hearted and hopeful. How would we ever get along? Or, perhaps, he usually was very light hearted and cheery. Perhaps it was just the being married to me that had turned him somber. Maybe I was annoying. Perhaps I wasn't pretty or good enough to truly deserve the man that was now in my bed, expected to be married to me in the way two people are when they are married. Maybe he was in love with someone else and now that I was here, he could only find reason to be miserable and annoyed. Maybe he didn't mind me. Maybe I was good. But... not good enough.
My thoughts turned, my stomach following suit. I felt exposed and small and awkward and as I pulled the covers over myself as well, I sunk into the mattress and turned my back to him so he wouldn't see my face and how upset I was. He might blame himself, or get mad at me when I had insisted he be in the bed even though it seemed like I didn't want him to be. Closing my eyes, I forced my body to relax and my mind to still as the aching in my chest increased. I would have to get used to this. This handsome, somber boy my age who was my husband and this dull, too quiet house that was mine. Hm.
I fell asleep the first night uneasy.
It was dark. There was the sound of a curtain being pulled and I blinked rapidly as harsh light filled the room. When my eyes finally adjusted to the sudden change, I looked around and took everything in. It was a big room, spacial but well decorated too so that it felt nice to be in. Cheery with golden, deep yellows and soft, light reds and pastel oranges.
