BLOODLINES ↠ JON SNOW

XXVIII. TWO EVILS

XXVIII.   TWO EVILS
[ 8x04 // 8x05 ]

A HEAVY BURDEN BEARED DOWN UPON AMODERA'S SHOULDERS AS SHE READIED HER HORSE FOR THE JOURNEY SOUTH. In every battle, every war, every struggle, she had always been sure that the steps she took were right. Perhaps they caused suffering, but for the good of the many. War was messy, but she had never doubted she was fighting for the right side. But now, as she prepared to go South to fight for the Mother of Dragons, Amodera couldn't help the doubt that invaded her mind.
How much easier it could've been if Jon had never gone to Dragonstone; if he'd never vowed to fight for Daenerys Targaryen. They could live out their days in the North -- together and at peace. But alas, promises had been made and once again they had been called to claw at the gates of Hell for their freedom.

The sound of snow crunching underfoot signalled his arrival, long before his voice reached her ears. "You didn't come to bed last night." Jon said, his voice quiet and filled with desolation.

Amodera turned to look at him, the lost look in his eyes enough to make her heart pang. But still, she remained vigilant. His betrayal had cut her deeper than any knife could muster and she had to teach him. "I had to make sure my people were ready for their journey North." She stated defiantly, her gaze never breaking from his.

Jon clenched his jaw, dropping his gaze before stepping closer to her. "I'm sorry, Amodera." He began, his voice low. "You know I would never do that to hurt you, but-"

"But what Jon?" Amodera questioned, stepping back from him with her brows furrowed in anger. "You vowed a long time ago to help the Free Folk. That should come before whatever promise you made to Daenerys. My people are exactly that -- my people. You do not get a say in our matters."

"You know I would never hurt you; you're my wife!" He cried out, taking her hand in his. "I just don't want Daenerys to look to the North and see a threat -- in me or in you."

Amodera chewed over his words, knowing the consequences they could create. "I told you...I told you not to tell her, and you didn't listen." She muttered, wrapping her arms around his neck as she held him close.

"I should've listened." Jon mumbled, his breath grazing her ear as he embraced her. Even in his worse moments, he could feel her and feel at peace. "I don't want to go. I want to stay here, with you. But I'm torn between the family I've had and the family I've just found."

Amodera sighed, closing her eyes for a moment as she wallowed in his warmth. She understood his pain, truly, but she also knew he couldn't live with himself if he threw away the life he had for a new one. "You may be a Targaryen like her," Amodera began, stepping back to look him deep in his dark, sad eyes. "But half of you is still a Stark. Half of you belongs in the North; it always will. Don't forget that."

Jon leant down and kissed her softly, holding the part of him that made him strong. Amodera was his home, and he vowed to never forget that again -- no matter how torn he felt.

"Now you're just rubbing it it." A voice sounded from behind them. Amodera looked across her shoulder to see Tormund walking towards them with a grin on his face. "You're happy and loved up, and the big woman's off with a one-handed knight."

Amodera grinned at her old friend, as she stepped back from Jon. "Oh, don't act so disheartened. I saw you walking across the courtyard last night with a Northern woman."