BLOODLINES ↠ JON SNOW

XX. INTO THE LION'S DEN

XX. INTO THE LION'S DEN

THE SMELL OF MUD AND DISEASE HUNG IN THE AIR LIKE POISON -- a warning of the dangers that lay ahead. Kings Landing breeded despair and Amodera sensed it's cruel breath lapping at their heels. They had arrived just minutes ago and already Cersei's collection of soldiers had been escorting them through the city in uniform defiance. Amodera didn't trust them, not for a second. She'd been through too much to let her guard down now.

"I don't like this place." Amodera muttered, glancing across at Jon. He just nodded grimly in reply, a look of sombre melancholy upon his face. She knew how hard it must be for him to step foot in the place that his father had died; to meet with the people who had killed his brother. Reaching down, Amodera let her hand slip into his own. The heat from his body instantly calmed her - warming her cold exterior.

As they rounded the corner, the towering ruins of the dragonpit loomed above the trees - casting a fateful glare upon their weary bones. The crimson banners of the Lannister sigil stood proud against the sandstone arena, like a wild animal baring it's teeth. The queen was backed into a corner, and yet everything around them powered the mirage of Lannister strength. The soldiers dispersed around the platforms in the centre of the arena, directing each of the unfortunate guests to their seats. Amodera glanced across at the soldiers that surrounded them, a wariness invading her eyes. Her gut told her not to trust them, but her heart told her they had no choice.

As she turned, her gaze fell upon a woman dressed in black and surrounded by armed guards walking towards them. The infamous queen, Cersei Lannister, she presumed. The woman had a look of sly pride upon her face, as if she had mapped out every possible situation; every way she could win. It unnerved Amodera to see someone so proud of their cruel mind. It reminded her of Ramsay.

Jon turned to Amodera, squeezing her delicate fingers in reassurance before letting go of her hand and taking his seat. Amodera raised her head, looking across at the queen as she took her seat at his side. A look of contempt spread across Cersei's face at the realisation that Daenerys was not with them. "Where is she?" Cersei questioned, venom laced within her voice.

"She'll be here soon." Tyrion stated, glancing across at his sister calmly.

The queen arched an eyebrow. "Didn't travel with you?"

"No."

Deafening silence filled the air; a tension so thick you could cut it with a sword. Only the sound of thunderous roars upon the horizon brought a startled look upon their harsh faces. In seconds, two dragons appeared in the sky, casting mystic shadows across the land. Amodera couldn't help but smile at their beauty and power. It took her breath away, even after everything she had seen.

The larger of the two cane to the ground before them, relinquishing it's mother to the lion's den before joining it's sibling in the skies above. Daenerys emerged from the clouds of yellow dust with delicate grace, stealing the eyes of the men and women alike. The only person in the arena who was not in awe of the young woman was Cersei, whose perturbed look had grown ever stronger. "We've been here for some time."

"My apologies." Daenerys replied calmly, before directing her gaze to her Hand, who stood beneath the wary eyes of those around him.

"We are a group of people who do not like one another. We have suffered at each other's hands." Tyrion paused, glancing at his sister. "We have lost people we love at each other's hands. If all we wanted was more of the same, there would be no need for this gathering. We are entirely capable of waging war against each other without meeting face to face."