DISASTROUS ( Jon Snow )

52

girls love each other like animals ... we love with claws and teeth ...

-black iris // leah raeder

__________

"Promise me you'll return," Amaris whispered, clutching her hands to Jon's tunic.

He would be leaving for the Wall tomorrow, and though it was for very different reasons than the last time she could not help the knot of fear that tugged at her stomach — even beyond the fear of him dying beyond the Wall at the hands of the dead.

"You know that's an impossible promise," he told her, brushing his lips over her cheek.

Hissing in annoyance, she tightened her grip on his tunic. "Promise me. If you don't believe you won't return..."

She cut herself off and shook her head. No. She refused to entertain the idea of Jon not returning. When the expedition North ended, she would still have a husband and Robb would still have a father. Jon touched her cheek, his touch far too soft for the calluses on his hands, and nodded.

"I will return to you. I swear it."

When the morning came, snow was falling outside of the window. Cool air drafted in, sending chills across Amaris's bare skin. Even the warmth from Jon's arm draped loosely over her waist could not keep away the cold. Shivering, she pulled the bed coverings higher up and turned into Jon's body. His grip on her tightened, pulling her even closer than she already was. Silently, she traced her fingers lightly over the scars covering his chest. It was a miracle he was alive, and she did not want to tempt the gods above anymore.

He shifted lower on the bed, eyes still closed, so that they were face to face. Slowly, he opened his eyes and smiled softly at her, but there was a certain heaviness to that smile. She knew he was thinking about the risks of the journey just as much as she was.

"I hate to leave you," he whispered, rubbing soothing circles into her hip.

"Just as I hated to leave you," she said. She reached up to touch his face, basking in the fact that he was truly with her. How far they both had come. "But, we all have our duties to fulfill."

Huffing, Jon pulled her close and buried his head into her shoulder. His beard scratched against her bare skin, but she paid that no mind as she slipped her hand into his loose curls. In moments like this, it was easy to forget that she was a queen and he a king. Alone, they could just be. Often, Amaris found that she felt hundreds of years old. With Jon, she could just be young and foolish and in love.

"What do you think our lives would be like if we ran away together all those years ago?" Jon asked.

"I try to not dwell on the past too much," Amaris mumbled. Lyanna Stark's dying words flashed through her memory. "I'd like to think we'd be somewhere warm, though... the sun would be good for you."