As some of you may know (and some may not), your old pal Northern Lights took a bit of a break recently.
I’m going to shoot straight and be blunt because, to be perfectly honest, it’s an opportunity for me to discuss somewhat anonymously what’s going on with you, my Jonerys fandom peeps, in a way that’s less complicated than IRL.
So, I had a miscarriage, and Baby Lights is no more.
This is not my first loss, but it’s hard, and it’s the sort of thing that makes you want to curl up and be left alone.
I did that. For a few days, anyway.
But I’m back, because much like our boy Jon Snow, they haven’t made a fucking situation that keeps me down for long. It’s just how I roll, famalams.
So I’m here, working on fic, getting myself back together, ready to roll even harder on this Jonerys train than I was before.
And, as always, I meme, therefore I am. Thanks to those of you who knew what was up and extended good wishes and positive vibes. You are my spirit animals.
Written for day five (Tropes // Historical AU // King and Queen) of the Jonerys Appreciation Week on @iceandfiresource. This is, well, exactly what a fic with this combination of prompts would be expected to be, which is to say arranged marriage.
Jon had always been rather grateful for the way his life had turned out.