DISASTROUS ( Jon Snow )

22

are you brave? the devil asked.

no, she answered, but i am alive.

-and sometimes those two things are the same | j.a.s

__________

Amaris sat in her father's tent, feeling rather warm by the fire Melisandre had blazing in a transportable hearth. Her cloak was drawn close to her body while the flames danced wildly before her eyes. In the background, she could hear Davos reporting the deaths of forty horses. However, Amaris couldn't bring herself to care. In the fire, she could make out the figure of a girl, tall and willowy, with hair that matched the color of the orange flames.

The girl was crying, pleading with a boy several years older than her. She wanted him to help her. The scene changed. An old woman was nailed to a cross, all skin stripped from her body except her face, which remained untouched. The fire-headed girl was crying as a man kissed her cheek. The scene changed again. A man was fighting a White Walker. There was fear in both the man and White Walker's eyes as their swords clashed, but the man was better. He drove his sword through the Wight, shattering it into shards of ice.

Gasping, Amaris drew herself away from the vision. Her heart was pounding and she kneaded at her temples with her knuckles. She knew the girl in her vision, and she knew the courtyard the girl had been standing in. Sansa Stark was back in Winterfell and in the clutches of Ramsay Bolton.

When she was capable of coherent thinking, Amaris looked up and saw that Davos was gone. Her father and Melisandre were discussing the odds of victory. Amaris, however, was not worried with that. She knew if she had only known earlier about Sansa's whereabouts, if she had known only a few days earlier, she could have convinced Jon to kneel before her father and pledge his allegiance to their cause.

Perhaps she would get that chance. She knew that she would see Jon again, someday. And when that day came, in the near future, she would convince him to stay with her.

"Father," Amaris said abruptly, "may I be excused?"

"Of course," Stannis said.

Amaris nodded and hurried out of the tent. Breathing warm air onto her hands, she hastily made her way to her own tent that she shared with Shireen.

The camp remained in place for a week, each day growing colder and colder. Men were growing restless. Two groups of mercenaries abandoned the camp, taking horses and food with them. Everyone was starving, temperaments were rising and fights were breaking out everywhere.

Daily, Amaris and Davos begged Stannis to retreat to Castle Black and wait out the blizzard that seemed to stretch on for days. Stannis was not having any of it, however. He grew more and more irritable with each request. So, each day and night Amaris stayed in her tent with Shireen, sulking whilst Shireen read her stories aloud.

After eight days in the camp, the night was broken up by shouts and smoke. Fires had been set throughout the encampment. Coughing, Amaris ran outside of the tent to see what had happened. Once she was outside, the answer was clear. They had been attacked, ambushed.

"Shireen!" Amaris yelled, seeing her sister's head poke out of the tent. "Stay inside!"

"Amaris, what's happening?"

"I don't know," Amaris lied. "I'm going to find Father. Stay inside and stay safe."

Shireen nodded and retreated inside. Sighing heavily, Amaris desperately looked around. Her eyes locked with the dark, sadistic eyes of a man she didn't recognize. He held a torch in his hands and blood was splattered onto his face. However, Amaris soon realized who he was. She was staring at Ramsay Bolton.