DISCONTINUED
amaris smiled and her eyes filled with melancholy tears as she looked at jon snow, the man she loved but could never have.
jon snow x oc
season 1 - season 8
highest #32 in fanfiction
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i was a girl gulping a woman's grief.
-call my name // melissa febos
_________
Daenerys Targaryen was a sight to behold. Silver hair, blushed skin, and eyes of vibrant violet. Those very eyes grew wide at the sight Amaris. She'd been expecting the king and not his wife. Her shock was hidden well, but not well enough.
"You stand in the presence of Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, rightful heir to the Iron Throne, rightful Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Protector of the Seven Kingdoms, the Mother of Dragons, the Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, the Unburnt, the Breaker of Chains."
Rightful heir... Amaris almost laughed. Glaring, Myra stepped forward.
"This is her grace Amaris of House Baratheon, Queen in the North," Myra announced, her Dornish accent bouncing off the stone walls.
Amaris paid Myra's words no mind. Instead, she stared straight ahead at the throne Daenerys was currently sat upon. That was the throne fit for no other than Stannis Baratheon. Lips curled back, Amaris bowed her head. Ghost prowled around her in a tight circle, baring his teeth at anyone who looked in her direction.
"Forgive me but, I was under the impression I would be meeting with Jon Snow—"
"Yes, well," Amaris smiled in a faux, self-deprecating manner. "My husband has much more important things to attend to."
Daenerys smiled, but nothing reached her cold eyes. "I see. Thank you for travelling so far, my lady. I hope the seas weren't too rough."
"The winds were kind to us."
"Apologies, I have a Flea Bottom accent, I know," Davos stepped forward, "but Amaris is Queen in the North, your grace. She's not a lady."
"Forgive me—"
"Your grace, this is Ser Davos Seaworth," Tyrion spoke up.
"Forgive me, Ser Davos, I never did receive a formal education, but I could have sworn I read the last King in the North was Torrhen Stark, who bent the knee to my ancestor Aegon Targaryen. In exchange for his life and the lives of the Northmen, Torrhen Stark swore fealty to House Targaryen in perpetuity. Or do I have my facts wrong?"
Ghost stopped his pacing and nudged his nose against Amaris' curled fist. Loosening her limbs a bit, Amaris ran her hand down the back of his head.
"I wasn't there, your grace," Davos said dully.
"No, of course not." Daenerys smiled coldly. "But still, an oath is an oath. And perpetuity means— what does perpetuity mean, Lord Tyrion?"
"Forever."
"Forever," Daenerys smirked. "So, I assume, my lady... you're here to bend the knee."
Amaris sighed heavily. R'hllor truly was testing her in this moment. "As a matter of fact, I'm not here to squabble over a stupid, ugly chair. I am not here to bend the knee to you, your grace."
