DISASTROUS ( Jon Snow )

29

we have to create. it is the only thing louder than destruction.

-andrea gibson

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"What will we name her?" Jon asked Amaris that night, as they sat curled together in his bed, pressing as close as possible.

"Her?" Amaris asked, her lips pulled back into a teasing smile. "Who says our child will be a girl? I think the baby will boy a boy."

Jon rolled his eyes and shook his head at her.

"Boy. Girl. It doesn't matter," he said, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

"I don't want to think about names," Amaris said quietly, tracing circles on the back of his hand lightly. "There are too many names, too many dead loved ones... we can pick a name when he is born."

Jon hummed but said nothing more as he pulled Amaris even closer to him. As she slowly drifted off, Amaris had a small smile tugging at her plump lips. Ever since she met Jon, this had been the only thing she wanted. She burrowed her head into the spot his neck met his chest and gripped his back, holding him as close as possible. He kissed her forehead and that was the last thing she remembered before sleep overtook her body.

The cold of morning came far too quickly. Amaris busied herself by packing her bags and making sure everything was in order for their departure, while Jon bid his goodbyes to his brothers-in-arms. A cloak pulled tightly to her body, Amaris walked outside while a couple men of the Watch carried her things out for her.

"Are you ready?" Amaris asked Sansa, sneaking up on the younger girl.

Sansa jumped but turned to Amaris and smiled.

"If Cersei Lannister taught me one thing it was how to play the game," Sansa said, her lips pursed.

"That's not what I meant," Amaris said, shooting Sansa a meaningful glance. "Are you ready to face Ramsay?"

Sansa sighed and attempted to flatten the creases in her dress. She looked up at Amaris and nodded.

"I have to be," Sansa said. "He needs to pay."

"Sansa," Amaris whispered, reaching out to grab her wrist, "if you ever wish to speak about anything with me."

"I know," Sansa said, smiling and squeezing Amaris' hand. "Thank you, Amaris. You've always been so kind."

"You've always been deserving of it," Amaris replied.

"I'm so glad you're going to be my sister," Sansa said with a large smile.

Sister. The word was so heavy, riddled with pain and violence. Saying nothing, Amaris forced a smile in Sansa's direction and walked to her horse. Her horse was tall and his fur was the same color as her hair. As Amaris ran her hand down his mane, she wasn't quite all there.

"Are you all right, your grace?"

Amaris snapped her eyes up and looked at Davos. He was sitting atop his own horse and looking down at her with worry in his dark eyes.

"Yes, I'm fine," Amaris said, climbing onto the horse with minimal effort.

Riddled with unhappiness and grief, Amaris rode silently on her horse as the party took off. Jon, at some point during the day's ride, had maneuvered his horse next to her but she paid him no mind. She was still stewing in her grief over Shireen and her father, and even her step-mother. Her only remaining family, slaughtered by the Boltons (or Brienne, in her father's case). The thought made her sick, and Amaris was sure that the nausea this time was not induced by her pregnancy.

Amaris could not help but wonder; was she somehow betraying Shireen by taking Sansa on as her sister? Was it cruel to Shireen's memory to acquire a new sister so soon? Amaris thought it was. It was not as if Amaris did not want Sansa to be her sister, she just wanted Shireen to still be her most important sister. Soon, Shireen would be forgotten and Sansa would be Amaris' only sister, maybe Arya as well if the youngling showed up at any point in time from wherever she had run off to.

As night fell, the party halted. Soldiers, or rather the wildlings, set up tents and Jon created a perimeter. Amaris retired to her tent. After fastening the curtains shut, she drew herself a bath and undressed. As she soaked in the scalding water, Jon entered. Their eyes met and she looked away before dunking her head under the water. When she surfaced, Jon was standing over the bath, a concerned look on his face.

His cheeks were flushed red from the cold and snowflakes were melting in his black curls. His dark, tired eyes were narrowed and his mouth was stern. Unconsciously, Amaris sent him a rather coquettish look as she moved her fingers along the smooth water.

"How are you?" Jon asked, his voice still gruff from yelling orders.

"I've been better," Amaris confessed, tilting her head back to properly wet her hair. "Join me in the bath. Make me feel better."

"A tempting offer," Jon mumbled.

Licking her lips, Amaris reached up and grabbed hold of his shirt. She tugged and sent him to his knees. The thought of him being so willing to her every whim was absolutely exhilarating. Amaris brought his lips to hers and soon Jon was climbing into the bath with her, still very much in his clothes. Still, she found it very hard to care about his clothes while his lips were constantly moving up and down her neck and shoulders while his hands caressed every inch of her body.

"Why were you so sad today?" Jon asked later that night.

"I was thinking about Shireen," Amaris said quietly, turning so that she was facing Jon. "I was thinking if Sansa becomes my sister, would that be an insult to Shireen's memory? Would it be like she was never here?"

Jon was quiet as he moved his hand up and down Amaris' arm.

"It's silly," Amaris muttered.

"No," Jon disagreed. "You're grieving. You're allowed to grieve, to be sad. She was your sister. She can never be replaced."

"We've both lost so many people," Amaris whispered, tucking some of Jon's curls behind his ear. Her eyes were brimming with tears. "I thought I lost you too. Oh, Jon," she cried, "I was so scared. I'm still so scared. I can't lose you."

"You won't," he told her. "I promise, and I always keep my promises to you, don't I?"

Breathing out a quiet laugh, Amaris tucked herself against him and hugged him tight. They fell asleep in each other's arms that night, after hours of crying, laughing, kissing and falling in love all over again.

In the morning, as Amaris dressed she noticed her clothing was beginning to not fit as well as it did a mere month ago. Her breasts were larger and her stomach was beginning to swell ever so slightly. Amaris knew these were the signs of life growing within her.

"Jon," Amaris called, "come here."

Jon, halfway through dressing, walked over. Amaris' heart fluttered at the sight of him in nothing but trousers, his sculpted, muscular chest out in the open. She shook the inappropriate thoughts from her head and placed his hand against her stomach.

"Do you notice the swell?" Amaris asked quietly, her eyes wide with excitement. "Soon we'll be able to feel him move."

"How are you so sure of our child being a boy?"

"Mother's intuition," Amaris replied coyly.

Of course, she didn't truly know, but she could feel it in her heart and soul. There was a little boy growing inside of her, destined to be a great king and a good man.

In that moment, as Jon beamed at her, his hands on his stomach and his eyes on her face, Amaris could not think of a moment where she had been happier. They were in a bubble where there was only happiness. There were no wars or blood or carnage or death in this moment; there was only joy and love. And that was all Amaris wanted, really.

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sorry for such a long wait guys - this chapter took me forever! 

-bleuseys