Author's Note:

HermioneeBlack: Thank you! Yes, that's what I'm trying to portray but Amara is not technically herself in most ways. She's going through a growth, afraid that she cannot keep thing she loves. She's going to learn that she can't control everything or stop everything.

htennis: I figure you guys would hate me for that! You guys are evil, like me.

amrawo: I wish I updated sooner, but its finally here.

darkwolf76: For some reason, I don't think Aegon is really the type to care about that! You know Targaryens, they only see what they want. Austin is Amara's adopted son, but she refrains from using such a word. She claims him solely as hers. Thank you, I try to keep them lighthearted even in times of adversity, but they can't always be that way.

Natalie: Neither one can catch a break. Too bad I still won't let them.

Louise: Your reviews had me laughing each time they came. Squad goals really made laugh so hard.

Guest: I know. I hate making her so weak, but I think its necessary at this time and during these situations. Don't worry though, something big is definitely going to happen in the next chapter which requires a fighting scene. ;) She won't be a damsel at all then.

War was entirely new to him. Quite frankly, Naran didn't think it be more than intense than it was. His heart raced so hard and so loud in its cage, he thought it would eventually stop and he'd die from the exhilaration alone. Everywhere was death. It was in the air, on the ground, before him, behind him; to his left and inevitably to his right. This was what war was like and Naran had never felt so strange, so barbaric. And what was he fighting for? For his friend? For his own conquests? This fine line between life and death was beneath his own feet and he wondered if all of this would be worth it in the end. He won this time, but who was to say he would win again? War wasn't predictable because the people weren't.

"Prince Naran." Lord Stark had brought him out of his thoughts, fading away the slices of quick memories that seemed to come and go. In the middle of his flashes of war was the Warden of the North, who seemed so troubled by looks alone. "We need to speak on a matter."

The man was always serious. He never once caught the man looking so relaxed, even when his daughter was here, the man was on his guard. He couldn't blame him. He was being used and his son was out in war; his entire family reeling after the actions he made when he chose to go South. Everything that came to be thus far could've been prevented if the man wasn't so honorbound and kind. He could've stayed North and let the South wreak its own havoc. That was the smarter thing in Naran's eyes.

"Speak then, Lord Stark." His eyes watched the wine swirl in his cup, the pavilion felt empty to him despite the both of them being there. It felt like his soul was gone, still out in the battlefield fighting already fallen enemies. "I respect you a great deal." He added rather truthfully. He didn't know Lord Stark very well, but what he did know, he respected even if their thinking was polar opposite. Jon Connington may have still hated the man over past events, Naran was not wounded since Westeros' past was not his own.

"Your sister…" Ned began, solemnly. Naran's eyes immediately flicked to look up at him, no longer amused by the ways of the wine he fiddled with. Just the mention of his sister made his bones taut and his mouth was already forming a frown. "Her name… Amara, is that true?"

How did the man come to know that? The only one who knew about his sister was Aegon. Why would the Dragon Prince even mention her to him? That was already troubling enough. "And what of it, Lord Stark?"

"I believe I know where she is." With his eyes wide, he immediately placed his cup down on the table. Standing to his feet, he tilted his head to beg the man to continue. His pride hated how eager he was. He hated her. He hated her so much and yet he wanted—actually needed—to know where she was. "Your sister is a healer and my sons met her in a village not too far from my very own home. She came and healed my daughter when she was ill and stayed in the town I governed."

It sounded like her. Amara was so fascinated with medicine since he could remember. When their mother passed and all that was left as her journal, Amara read for days and days with a candle by her bed as she tried not to let her tears stain the pages. Naran thought it was her way of grieving, of letting their mother go. He didn't think she would be studying medicine just to be the healer that their mother once was. She came to Westeros to be a healer then? Just the shock of these foreigners had to see a YiTish girl applying and giving medicine, he wished he would've seen it.

"So," Naran sat back down in his seat, "she's been in the North all this time?"

"Scarcely a year." said the former Warden of the North, who took a seat opposite of him. "She's a kind girl. I trust her with my family as much as I have come to trust you." Naran rose a brow at that. "It is because I have trust in the both of you, I think it wise to tell you what Aegon is planning to do."

It was just a thought and now it was confirmed true. Aegon had everything to do with Ned Stark coming forward about his sister. What was Aegon to gain from this? What did he want? And what did his sister have to do with it? "He believes he is in dire need of a heir and while I share this sentiment, he doesn't think he can trust it happen with his aunt. He proposes to marry your sister in her place."

It should've been shock that he felt. Instead, Naran felt nothing but amused. Out of nowhere, he found his own body shaking in an uproar of laughter. "He thinks these Westerosi lords will allow two foreigners to sit in power? Is he truly mad like his grandfather or was this all said in jest?" Aegon was his friend, his best friend. They had been friends for years since they met in Lys, but to hear this? To think Aegon thought this was a wise move? He felt like he hardly knew his friend anymore. Maybe Aegon was really desperate for power and was taking any option closest to him.

"If he plans to take the Iron Throne by force, I doubt he cares how the other lords will feel about him putting a foreign princess as queen. Many lords have resigned that Targaryens aren't fit to rule any longer."

"He is a foreigner himself, Lord Stark ." Naran's laughter died down, wiping a tear that pooled at the corner of his eyes with a swipe of his finger. "Westeros may be his native lands, his proper home, but he was not raised there. The Aegon they knew was a baby with its head bashed in by a man that calls himself the Mountain. He was raised across the Narrow sea by some man thought to be dead and had an obsession with the almighty Rhaegar. They'll think of him as a fraud, some liar with some Old Valyria blood than Targaryen. He'll have to prove himself, I told him this, but marrying Amara would only be a setback." Strategy or his own personal feelings? Naran wasn't sure. His feelings for his sister were hardly kind.

Ned was unsure why Naran found any of this humorous. The only thing he could praise was that he wasn't so quick to this plan. He at least knew the risks of all of this and he at least knew how unfavorable putting a foreign woman other than Daenerys at his side would be as much as it would be putting himself on the throne. Aegon would be the rightful heir on many counts before his aunt. Targaryen loyalists would flock to him before her or may not due to the dragons his aunt possessed. But was really making him king the wisest decision? There was another. Other than Daenerys or Aegon that could rule rightfully, of that Ned most certainly knew.

...

"Stop your fidgeting." With her voice stern, Lady Catelyn's eyes steeled to make a slight glare in the mirror out of warning. Using whatever grips she still had of her self-control, she tried not to make a sour face or pout. How could she expect Amara to stay so still? She was getting married, even if it was happening a little too fast for her liking. There wasn't enough time for her to enjoy being engaged, to dream about this day into fruition, and to properly spend this time happily with her husband-to-be. It had to happen so quickly since they would all be leaving Riverrun soon, Lady Catelyn and Queen Margaery to Winterfell and Jon and Robb to Lannisport or to deal with Stannis Baratheon or whichever needed to be dealt with first.

Seeing as how Lord Stannis remained unchanging for the past week, it was hard to tell what that man was planning and whether it was safe to say or not a battle would happen. The soldiers stationed outside saw no activity that seemed like a threat, but who was to say that it would keep remaining that way? Riverrun had enough with Tywin Lannister, Amara didn't think it could stand another attack despite the time given to recover.

"What's with all the flowers?" Arya's question pulled her out of her thoughts, causing her to look at the girl's reflection in the mirror. Her face was scrunched up, brows knitted in her lack of understanding. "What do they all mean?"

In this room, currently, was Margaery, Arya, and Lady Catelyn. Brienne was on guard outside the door and Dacey declined, claiming she knew nothing about things like this. She also forced Dara to be with her, who was more excited about this wedding more than Amara was. She hadn't enjoyed being forced at Dacey's side, but she caved in as she always did for the Mormont heir.

"They are Sunflowers." She informed her, a smile present. "In Yi Ti, the clans have a family crest. Sunflowers are the crest of the Bataar family. It's strange, really, since they do not grow in Yi Ti anymore. They all died during the Long Night." The Long Night happened so long ago but it still effects parts of the world today.

Sunflowers never bloomed in the fields, which was why Amara's first time seeing one was in the Glass Gardens in Winterfell. After all, how could they survive during a time where the sun hid its face? Sunflowers need the sun to bloom, but even when the sun returned, the sunflowers didn't. Nobody has known why. It was always believed that it meant the Long Night would come again and when they finally bloomed, there will never be a Long Night again.

Arya, still confused, nodded slowly as if she only somewhat understood. "The Long Night happened there too? It happened here and that's why the Wall was made."

Sighing, Lady Catelyn stood straight. "No more talk of myths and legends." She warned them, looking back and forth at the both of them as she said it. "Now isn't the time."

Supposing she was right, Amara looked down at her dress. It was qutie breathtaking, considering how the seamstresses had so little time to make it. She could've apologized to them a thousand times and those apologies wouldn't take the pain of way of their probably sore, pricked fingers. Apologies just didn't seem enough or proper. Amara knew she would have to do something for them out of gratitude, but what? She couldn't think of anything yet.

The wedding dress was white with wisteria brocade. The top was stitch-made in the style of a tunic, high-collar with buttons on the right shoulder and short sleeves that only reached the upper-half of her arms. The skirt billowed out, not in a loud-kind of way like she had seen many Westerosi women wear them. It was comfortable and one she couldn't wait to childishly spin around in whenever she was alone.

Due to the stark difference in culture, she didn't have the proper hair accessories but that didn't really matter to her. Jon's present was more than enough for her and she slipped into her hair that she kept plainly fashioned; parting down the middle. Margaery tried to tell her to go for an updo, the thousand upon thousands of curls that she wore on her own head for her own wedding, but Amara preferred to be simple. Even during her own wedding, she didn't like to be too much different than anyone else. It was her and Jon's day, but the both of them were so painfully shy in some regards. They both hated being the center of attention.

"You look beautiful." said the Queen in the North, her lips the form of a sweet crescent. "You should dress up more instead of dressing so plainly."

Catelyn let out an inelegant snort. Her lips trembled slightly, like she was fighting a smile from coming across her face. "I've been telling her that for nearly a year. As of recent, she has only just decided to dress as she should."

"I like the way you dress." At least Arya defended her, "Why not try breeches instead? That way, you can be even more different." Of course she would suggest that despite being forced to wear dresses again.

"Maybe I should." Scowling, Lady Catelyn was about to lecture her of how unbecoming it would be for a princess to dress in tunics and breeches, but Amara was saved by the sudden knock on the door. Giggling with Arya as the woman tried to fix her expression, Lady Catelyn sauntered over and opened the door with a little fierceness.

The trio of girls were curious, leaning forward ever so slightly to see who came to join or interrupt them. It was Ser Loras, the Queen's brother who was newly knighted and apart of Robb's kingsguard. Many of the servants and healers though him so handsome, which he was, but she could vaguely tell that Loras wasn't the slightest bit interested in them. In fact, Prince Oberyn seemed to gain his attention more oft than they could. Unsure if the attention was out of lust or simply pure, Amara could hardly tell. "Lady Stark, the King wanted me to inform you that Stannis has fled South."

"Fled South?" The woman repeated in confusion, looking down at the floor in thought, she raised her eyes to look back at Loras. "Do you know why?"

Margaery quickly made her way over to stand beside her goodmother. Whether it was because she knew such a conversation was important because she was a queen or out of her own worries, Amara didn't know. Arya and Amara merely rose their brows, glancing at one another in efforts to figure out why Stannis Baratheon decided that Robb was no longer important. "There has been a full-scale attack on Storm's End by an unknown army. None are sure who leads the charge, but Storm End's siege is quite relentless. We have reason to believe it'll be conquered by first light or even earlier than that."

It should've made her happy that the threat that Stannis Baratheon posed wasn't looming over their heads anymore. Still, whoever attacked Storm's End with the intention to claim it had to be someone who wished to be king too, she thought. Who else was in the running to be king now? It seemed as if every day someone wanted the Iron Throne without having the right to claim. What makes this person different and better than Lord Stannis or even Joffrey? What were their reasons if not for power to be the King of Westeros?

The biggest relief other than the lack of Stannis was the fact that the Red Woman was farther away from Jon. Something told Amara that it wouldn't be the last they saw each other, but knowing she was so close was so nerve-wrecking. For once, she could breathe easy and possibly sleep well for some nights since the last time they spoke. "I see." That was all Lady Catelyn could manage to say.

With a few words between siblings, Ser Loras had left them but the room was no longer filled with lightheartedness of a girl about to be married. There was just unease now with only a little bit of comfort knowing Robb wouldn't be battling the Baratheon lord. Every time a battle was taken from him, Amara felt at least for both him and Jon.

"Do you think that army nobody knows the name of could be a threat, mother?" Still intrigued, Arya thought it wise to ask. Unsure if Lady Catelyn wanted to speak of it with her youngest daughter, Amara chewed down on her bottom lip to rid herself with what might be unwarranted curiosity. The woman looked at her daughter first and then at Amara, whose eye were big and swirling with inquisitiveness as well. She sighed and then shook her head.

"It is possible." She calmly put it, "Anyone could be friend or foe." With her eyes closed, she shook her head again. "The witch did say this would happen. She said a dragon will fly in the South with a lone wolf in a sea of sunflowers and they would destroy all they think oppose them."

A premonition? Amara felt bothered by line that spoke of a sea of sunflowers. What could that possibly mean? In the back of her mind, she couldn't help but to think of home. A sea of sunflowers… Could it be…? It was possible after remembering Jon said her brother was looking for her. Why would he come to Westeros of all places and join the war that had nothing to do with him or Yi Ti? That hadn't made any sense to her, but the dragon and the wolf meant something. Since she was so unsure, she kept herself quiet. She didn't want to breathe life into any theory or let her heart hold hope that Naran was actually on the soil of Westeros.

"You don't actually think there is truth to her words?" Margaery questioned in astonishment, despite her confidence she also seemed like she believed Melisandre's words or at least was trying not to. "She's a mad woman who asks fire for answers after she gazes in them without burning her lashes."

She hardly sounded like believed what she was saying. Margaery might've believed that once, but what happened to Renly was still a very frightening mystery. The whispers of a shadow baby that was born between Melisandre's legs or some sort of magic was still talked about until this day. It was much louder now since the woman came to approach them. "I don't know what to believe." Lady Catelyn admitted, sounding rather defeated and sad. "After all that has happened this past year, I know that there is nothing that can't be impossible. What happened to Ned, my sons, and to Lord Renly… I can believe in anything."

Lowering her head, Amara laced her hands before her. "A dragon and a lone wolf in a sea of sunflowers…" The words repeated in her head, so softly like a lyric from the lips of a bard. The words gave her dread and at the same time, they gave her hope.

"No matter." Lady Catelyn lips went from a worried frown and to a smile, "Today is a day of promise, we must remember that." Trying to find the will to smile genuinely, Amara pushed her worries aside. "Everyone should be gathered, we will go to our seats and when you are ready, Brienne will escort you to Robb."

Robb would be the one giving her away, strange as it was. Since he was king, her king since she swore him fealty, it was proper and because he would be her family… It held some sense, but it didn't change how strange it felt to her. Naturally, it should've been Naran since she was fatherless. Amara couldn't imagine her little brother wanting to give her away to a Westerosi man or to any man at all. Just imagining the scene made her want to laugh. With a sharp nod to Lady Catelyn, she watched the three of them leave her alone in her chambers to let the silence she almost didn't remember be known again. Inhaling, she pressed her hand over her chest before she let out a rather loud exhale. She could feel her heart beating so fast as her hand rested there.

Her eyes looked around the room before looking in the mirror, staring at her reflection. It felt strange to be in YiTish like clothing, dressed like a princess of her country would be considering the last time she was dressed like this was for a previous wedding. This was so vastly different all due to the fact she was marrying someone she knew, someone she trusted, and someone she loved very purely. There was no forced emotions, no forced marriage for the sake of the country, but just her and the person she loved thinking that maybe a lifetime spent together was well worth it.

Once she felt braver, not feeling fidgety from her nervousness and glee, she finally left the room to see Brienne waiting patiently. The two of them hardly spoke, mainly because Amara didn't know how to approach her. Brienne was intimidating both in looks and presence. She always wore a stone expression and just exudes everything serious. Amara found her admirable because of her boldness, her proud declaration of her knighthood. She was unapologetic like Lady Maege and Dacey, yet she did not have any feminine charm like Dara. She also wasn't the friendly type, not in the slightest.

"Are you ready, Lady Amara?" Everyone started to call her Lady Amara when they knew of her engagement, just how quickly would that change to Princess Amara? The thought nearly made her want to cringe due to having gone so long without such a royal title. It would be different since she would no longer be Princess Amara Bataar, but Princess Amara Stark. Jon told her once that Stark meant 'unyielding'. It seemed fitting for every members of this family, but for her? Her name was spelled to mean peaceful, so she would be peacefully unyielding. It sounded strange when you put it together and seemed to make little sense. It did not hold the weight like Bataar had since it meant hero. Amara was no hero, at least she thought she wasn't.

Giving Brienne a nod, the two of them walked in the quiet halls of Riverrun. Each step was bringing her closer to marriage, which was starting to make her nervous all over again. As much as she wanted this, she wondered if she could be a good wife. How does one know how to be a good wife anyway? It wasn't something you could learn, could you? It just mainly seemed like such a huge task and Amara was afraid she wouldn't be able to live up to it. She wasn't a good betrothed before, so how could she be a good wife?

"Are you…" Concerned, Brienne leaned forward slightly with her brows fixed in a worried stance. Surprised Brienne saw her fearful expression, she washed it all away with a smile.

"I'm fine." Amara told her simply, trying to ease the Tarth's obvious worry. "I'm just a little nervous is all."

Brienne said nothing, just seeming to understand what she was currently experiencing. She didn't ask anything else, choosing silence. This was the first time she thought they could properly speak, but it ended too awkwardly for conversation. Now Amara was left with quiet and the clicking of her heels as well as the sound of Brienne's heavy, armored boots to rebound off the walls of the corridor.

It didn't take long before she saw Robb before the large oak doors that would lead outside to the Godswood. He was standing their donned in his kingly attire, adjusting his crown rather hastily. Trying not to laugh, she crinkled her eyes as could tell he was getting frustrated. Robb hardly liked wearing his crown and she could understand since it was so heavy. Before he could utter some curses, Brienne cleared her throat loud enough to capture his attention.

The King in the North quickly turned, a bit surprised to see them or just startled that someone saw him trying to fix his appearance. His eyes first laid on Brienne before looking at the shorter person, Amara, who began to wring her hands. With wide his eyes, he sooner broke out into a smile. "You look…"

"Strange?" She stopped him as if she was unable to accept any compliment he was going to give her. Why did she feel so odd now? Perhaps she should've gone with someone more traditional; Northern style. "You've never seen a YiTish wedding dress before, have you now?"

Robb shook his head, his reply leaving his smiling lips "Never." He told her with honesty, "But it is different… Beautiful."

Brienne turned to her, bowing slightly. "The King is right, you look beautiful, my lady." Though she said it so stiffly, Amara believed she sincerely meant it. "Now, I will excuse myself." The both of them nodded and watched her go through the doors, heading her way to the Godwood where everyone else was.

Not everyone she wanted to could be here. Amara wished that Austin was here the most because this would be his family now. Jon would be his father just as she was his mother. Even though the two were close and Austin liked him, she still would've enjoyed for him to see them coming together and for him to get a glimpse of what a whole family was like. He seemed so excited hearing about the engagement in the letters. He seemed so overjoyed, mainly for her because he thought that she should be "rightly married before she was too old." Those were his words exactly. Amara also wished the younger Starks, Rickon and Bran, could be here. She especially wished Sansa was here, knowing that a wedding setting suited her so much and because Amara missed her. She had been apart with her for the longest, but knowing she was safe in Winterfell was enough to ease her.

Asha, Maester Luwin, and Ros were another three she wished were to see her married. Asha was taking care of things in the Iron Islands, so she couldn't really attend. Even if she weren't so busy, this wedding was happening a little too quickly to properly invite her. She could imagine how uncomfortable she would be, hoping that the feast would happen much more quickly since that was much more of her setting than a ceremony. Ros? Oh, Amara could hear Ros making fun of her until the early hours of the morning.

"Nervous?" Her soon-to-be goodbrother asked. He brought her back to reality than her sad thoughts over those she thought were missing on what was supposed to be a joyous day.

"I'm shaking, can't you tell?" Goose-pimples were all over her arms and her heart was still beating like a drum. Her nerves would not calm and if they did, they only would for a few good seconds before driving her crazy all over again. "I feel like fainting." She admitted, linking their arms properly.

Robb turned to look at her, brows bowed. "Please don't." Trying not to smile, she looked up at him. "I wouldn't know how to explain that to Jon."

Chuckling, she gave his arm a squeeze. "Something tells me I should so I can be told how you stumbled as you tried."

With three consecutive knocks, the doors slowly opened to reveal the walkway to the Godswood. Strange, she thought. She had came to the Godswood so many times while she was here, but all of it felt so strange to her now. It was unrecognizable, like she had never been to this place before. It was the second hour of the night so the sky was filled with an endless display of stars, but there was no moon for it was new. It made her think back at what Zola had told her about what that had meant.

Robb began the march, keeping his strides a slow and less wide so that she could properly keep his pace. The two of them hadn't decided to speak for whatever, unknown reason to them. Amara tilted her head back, looking at the twinkling stars like she had never seen them before.

The only thing that tore her eyes away from them was when she could feel the only eyes she would be happy to look into for eternity staring straight at her. Lowering her head, she caught sight of Jon standing before the weirwood tree, back facing it, so that the front of him was turned to her.

She couldn't feel shy about the eyes of friends and strangers alike staring at her because his face brought her comfort. If she was beside herself, she would've ran to him, but because she knew that this was not the proper way of this, she allowed Robb to keep their steady pace.

Like it was the only color in existence, Jon still wore black, but there was a surprise hint of grey here and there on him. His hair was trimmed, not long and bushy as he would've allowed it to be, and he shaved some. Even though Amara thought him handsome clean-shaven, she recognized him better with hair on his face.

Now that she was by him, under the heart tree, she could clearly see that in his hands was a cloak. It was the same as the one that Robb laid on Margaery's shoulders. As much as she didn't understand or really like that custom, she didn't say anything. With some more staring and returned smile's, Jon finally spike. "Who comes? Who comes before the gods?"

Her eyes slowly turned to Robb, waiting for him to say the words. "Amara of House Bataar comes here to be wed. A woman grown and flowered, she comes to beg the blessings of the gods. Who comes to claim her?"

"Me, Jon of House Stark, Prince of Winterfell." Jon sounded so sure, but because she knew him, she could hear the slight tremor of his voice. "I claim her. Who gives her?"

"Robb of House Stark, King of the Bride." She withheld her breath as Robb turned to her, bearing the questions she rehearsed to answer in her head for hours. "Amara of House Bataar, will you take this man?"

Without hesitation, bearing a little too much eagerness, she answered. "I take this man!" Amara blushed at how over-excited she sounded, leaving Jon beaming and a few chuckles from those that knew them that witnessed.

Unlatching herself from Robb's arm, Jon's large hand had took hold of hers as Robb made his way to seat next to Margaery. Intertwining their fingers, the both of them turned and knelt down before the heart tree. Closing her eyes, she bowed her head in submission. This time would be spent in prayer and Amara hardly knew what to ask of the Old Gods. They weren't hers, but they were Jon's. So what could she ask of them? 'Offer the man I love protection and long life. I also pray that I can bear him rightful children; plenty and healthy.' That was the only things she would think important or at least something the gods would want of her to provide him.

Jon raised first and she soon followed suit. The warmth of his hand left hers, almost too quickly for her liking. Amara had to turn to await the cloak he would lay on her shoulders, the cloak that bore the sigil of House Stark. When she felt the heavy piece of clothing on her, Amara felt so small, like it would devour her as she turned to face him again.

"There's something else." He quickly said, leaving her confused as it did everyone else. He reached into his pockets, making her wonder just what he was about to pull out from them. Blinking twice, her eyes went wide at the sight of two rings. Her heart instantly sunk, out of happiness, mostly. It was just the shock that brought the sinking feeling. "I read that in Yi Ti, you exchange rings. I thought since you would take this cloak from me, you and I should properly share something."

He placed the ring he would wear in her palm, taking her left hand, he slipped the ring onto her finger. Jon even knew what hands to place them on, much to her surprise. The wife wore it on her left, meaning she carried her husband in her heart. And with trembling hands, she placed his on his right hand ring finger, meaning he carried the strength of their life together.

Taking both of her hands, his thumbs brushed over her knuckles in slow strokes. Amara didn't know when she started to cry or why she was crying. They must've been happy tears because there was not one ounce of sadness in her at this time. She couldn't see him pull her into bring her closer, she couldn't see the lack of distance between them because it was all blurry; just one, grey blur. None of that mattered though, not even the roar of applause. The only thing that matter was when his lips pressed to hers because this cemented that they were bound with feelings along with vows. That this marriage meant they were bound for soul and life, no matter how long or short it would all be.

His hand took hold of hers again as they would be making their way to the Great Hall. It was a lucky thing, for them, that the Tyrells had brought so much food or else she'd fear the castle would be left starving with the constant feasts and weddings that had taken place. Amara leaned into Jon and due to her height, she could only pressed her head into his arm as they walked. They were swarmed with people, congratulations and even the teasing of those who couldn't utter a single word of praise without poking fun.

Jon seemed the happiest, even when the situation seemed so unlike him for him to be looking so content. Surrounded by a sea of people, he held his smile and kept the crinkle of his eyes. Amara wondered just what he was thinking right now exactly.

"Prince Doom-and-Gloom is finally married," Theon said with, squeezing between the both of them with his arm wrapped right around them. It seemed fitting, for him to behave like this. "First it was Robb and now you," He said to Jon, shaking his head. "I guess I'm next, huh?"

"I have a feeling Bran will be the one to marry before you do." Amara snickered as Theon suddenly scowled, his look quite menacing towards Jon. "Only a woman gone mad would marry Prince Theon."

Her snicker turn into a full blown cackle. "Keep it up, Jon, and I'm gonna be the reason why you're being buried on the day you tied the damn knot."

"I'm glad you could stay, Theon." Amara told him, steering the conversation to a much lighter side. "It is good to see you."

His glower softened, etching a way to a usual grin. "It's the least I could do. I still couldn't believe he was gettin' married. I had to stay so I wasn't thinking it was all some sort of weird dream."

"Will we be attending any wedding of yours any time soon?" Amara couldn't imagine Theon settling down, ever. Even as an old man, she saw him still a lecherous man that could not be satisfied by one, single woman.

"Got to have me an heir, don't I?" She nearly forgot that. The poor woman, she was bound to be cheated on… heavily. Unless she was a salt-wife, which she hoped Theon wouldn't have. A salt-wife was a woman by the iron price, which she hoped would die in tradition in the years to come. "'Sides, I'm going to have fun seeing all of you miserable with marriage. Then again, Jon is always miserable." He turned to face her, "You just make him a little… less miserable."

Rolling his eyes, Jon decided to not say anything. She knew he wanted to, his lips were begging to as they twitched, but what she saw was a smile instead. So maybe Theon wasn't that insufferable to him or maybe he was a little right about what he said.

The three of them stayed together until they reached the Great Hall, where Theon promised them a toast that left Amara feeling uneasy. He was so crude, she worried his words will leave Lady Stark jumping straight out of her boots and out of the realm of order. What would Greatjon say? Oh, she feared that the most; curses and crass. She couldn't expect nothing less.

The both of them sat at the high table with Robb on the throne and Margaery beside him. "I'm scared." She bothered to whisper, leaning towards him with her hand gripping the sleeve of his gambeson. "Should we let Greatjon or Theon make any toasts? Lady Catelyn is bound to set the place aflame if they do."

Jon hid his laugh behind his chalice, eyes slowly looking at her as he kept his voice low enough for her only her to hear. "That would be quite funny, wouldn't it?"

Her fearful expression soon faltered, a mischievous glint in her eye. The only reason she was so worried about them speaking was because she thought Lady Catelyn would blame her for it, but she was the bride. How could she be put to blame? She could laugh and enjoy it without fault and not suffer the woman's wrath later on. "You have a point…"

There were people she never met here like Alys Karstark, two of Greatjon's daughters, and a few others that had been invited to join them since they weren't too far from Riverrun and would be safely escorted back. There was also the fact that Robb had planned a marriage between Lord Edmure and Lord Karstark's only daughter.

The both of them quickly straightened as people came to the tables bearing them gifts and blessings. Amara didn't expect any gifts, but because Jon was a prince, they felt it only right even though this wedding was rushed. Greatjon was grinning from ear to ear as he approached the table, leaving her smiling at how bright his face was. "Well, look at you two, I see two blushing brides."

Jon frowned instantly, making Amara laugh at the quickness of his expression. Jon was always considered pretty to many of the lords and ladies, and he hated every single time it was mentioned. "My husband is quite beautiful." She fed onto the ongoing joke, making his frown deeper but a twinge of red on his face.

"Hopefully tonight, his seed quickens and we get us a heir. Our queen doesn't seem to be showing any signs."

Now it was her turn to be completely flustered, her face nearly turning the same color as a rose itself. Amara did want children and took care of herself to not have any before they were married or prior to the fact when she wasn't sure if they would ever be together. She still wasn't ready for another child, especially when she barely spent enough time with the child she already had.

"Please, Greatjon, I'm not looking forward to a honeymoon baby." Amara said in all her honesty.

"Neither am I." Jon was still blushing, furiously, and taking another sip of wine to calm himself.

"Well one of ya has to be having a baby." Although he was right in the matter of politics, Amara felt that the pressure shouldn't be on them. Robb and Margaery were friendly, not at all lovers, and were coming a long way from the awkward stage they originally had. She didn't think Margaery was eager for a baby either and if she was? Well, Amara could guess it was Robb that was holding back.

"I think you should be telling Robb that." Jon pushed, "He's the king, not me." Greatjon seemed unsatisfied by the answer, sighing some. He then nodded, supposing that he would have to nag at Robb about having the proper heir. Jon couldn't be the heir forever; his prince status would remain unchanged despite the fact.

For a second, Amara wondered what a child would look like between the two of them. Since the both of them were black of hair, Amara doubted the child would have hair any different. The only change would be whether they had her straight hair or Jon's curly locks, would they have his dark and grey eyes or her blue ones? Would they have his Northern look or her YiTish/Rhoynar appearance?

Either way, Amara could feel the love for this hypothetical child blooming in her heart already. Now the sense of wanting a child came, but it didn't last. She was not ready. She did not want to raise a child while her husband was still in war. She wasn't sure how Lady Catelyn could do it, raising a child alone during the Rebellion, but Amara didn't think she could be as strong nor as brave.

After Lord Umber, many other lords came, she finally met Randyll Tarly personally. Meeting him wasn't exactly of pure intentions since she couldn't fight her own biased feelings. This was the man who had hurt Samwell, being the young man's very own father. He didn't seem at all excited about the event, he was simply here because he had to be. This marriage served nothing to him, so she didn't expect for him to be very much joyous. He didn't seem like the type to be happy because the environment was anyway. It could've been her own bias clouding her judgement.

Samwell was still here. Once he heard that they pushed this wedding ceremony, he thought it only right to be here and see the two of them like this. Amara couldn't find him right now, but she was sure that once his father was too preoccupied that he would show himself again. The need to duck and hide like this was getting old, but she couldn't force Samwell to own up to all of this. If he wished to not confront his father then she would let him do as he wanted. This was his family, his life.

"Princess Amara." The title made her grimace like a minor wound. Trying to control the obvious frown, her eyes lifted to see what looked to be a servant. He handed her a rolled piece of paper, obviously a letter. Curious, Amara gave him a nod in thanks before unrolling it with eagerness:

I'm a little shock and surprised to hear that you are engaged again. I thought I should've been the first to know of all people. No matter, I have written to tell you that I know where you are and will come to see you when all my business is tied up here. After all, the bride must have a proper dowry and I can provide just that. I hear your husband is an excellent fighter, he even took down a man that is known as the Kingslayer. I don't know how many times I heard of that tale… I'm quite sick of it actually. What a man you married though. Are you attracted to fearsome fighters? I suppose there should be some pride in the spirit of your deceased betrothed.

Nevermind the past, I look forward to meeting you again after all these years.

Your Loving Brother,

Naran."

What was she to say? How was she supposed to feel? Her mind kept asking how did Naran know where she was and that she was engaged? He even heard of Jon out of all people. Amara was white as chalk, still blanching from reading this letter she almost thought she was imagining. With her eyes and mouth still frozen wide open in shock, holding that pure look of stunned surprise, she kept staring at the letter and reading the word over and over.

"What's the matter?" She could hear Jon say and she could move her head to face him. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the letter in her hand.

It took a while for it all to wear off and for her to look at him, almost like she was seeing past him. "Naran just sent me a letter."

Astonished, Jon held his hand out for the letter and she barely moved as she handed it to him for him to read. It pained her that she did not feel immediate happiness like she thought she would have. In fact, she felt numb almost. Like she didn't have the right to speak to him. After all that she had done… No, Amara promised to forgive herself and that if it was meant to happen then it would. Naran wanted to see her. After all these years, he wanted to see her face-to-face, and she would not deny him or herself that because of the guilt that still lived within her.

"This is great news." He sounded happy, for her. He even pressed a kiss to her temple in order to make it seem like this was all natural and good. Was she overreacting? Amara was starting to feel that she did that a lot lately. "Strange how he hears of me." He still wasn't used to the fact that there was not a soul in Westeros that did not know his name and his accomplishments thus far. After being simply known as Ned Stark's bastard, he wasn't used to good things being known or said about him.

"It is…" It came out in the sound of a whisper, her shoulders drooping as she thought of how Naran must've felt hearing all of this about her. Her getting married and starting a new family without him in it. He must've heard of Austin and thought she was so content without him. He wouldn't know how much she still grieved for leaving him or her regrets of what she had done to her family. He must see her so selfish and he still wanted to see her and speak with her. 'He became a good person without me.' She felt better about that at least, glad that he was still good and the world had not done him harm.

Amara could barely pay attention to anything afterwards. She scarcely ate the dinner or even the cake, half of the toasts sounded like murmurs to her ears. Everything was moving except her, lost in her thoughts and debating whether she should be happy or worried. What if Naran would be disappointed seeing her? How much has he grown and change? Why she felt nervous when she wasn't meeting him yet? What was he doing here in Westeros?"

"—in a sea of sunflowers."

Came to her mind again, wrapping itself around her mind like a fragrance does to your sense of smell. He was the sea of sunflowers, wasn't he? He allied himself with a dragon and a wolf, of whom she could not figure out save for one was a Targaryen from her understand. The wolf? Who was the wolf now? Now she couldn't forget it. Now she hated she pushed it aside. What if Naran had a reason to be here? Why was he apart of this war? Could she protect him? Did he need her?

By the time she finally brought herself back to earth, she was in her temporary bedchambers. Blinking twice, she looked around in confusion. She was still wearing her dress, which meant the bedding custom wasn't performed. Amara had hoped it wasn't, not liking the idea of any man's hands touching and undressing her. She also didn't like the idea of women touching and undressing Jon either. Who made such a custom? Why were the people of Westeros so hypocritical when it came to virtue and modest? When she called them ass-backwards, Jon merely laughed for a good hour straight when she told him that once.

Jon wasn't in the room, which seemed strange. By the time she turned to go towards to the door to do whatever came first in mind, he came walking in as if he had only left her for a few short minutes. "Feeling better?"

"I… I was acting strange, wasn't I?" She already knew the answer but she wanted things by detail.

"You didn't talk for a two hours." Two hours? Amara got lost in herself for a whole two hours? "Nobody noticed except for Robb and I."

That was good. That would've been embarrassing if she sat still like an empty vessel and people began to notice. Her hand reached to her head, massaging one temple. "I wonder if… If my brother is somehow involved in what is happening down South."

"Why would you think that?" How could she properly explain? He would say that Melisandre was spitting nonsense, but what she said was… true. There was some truth in the things she said. How terrifying was it for Amara to admit that fact. "The Red Priestess…"

"Her again?" Amara swallowed the defeated sigh she nearly let out, "I told you before…"

"But she was right." She urged, "She spoke of a dragon and a wolf in the sea of sunflowers. It is a Targaryen boy leading the charge, and Naran… Naran could be helping him. He is the sea of sunflowers; it is my family crest."

All Jon could do was look at her, putting some thought into all of this. He couldn't deny that, could he? Could he not see how she could make such a connection? "It could be a pure coincidence." …She supposed that was true. It could be or at least Amara wanted to believe that since she was afraid of what everything could mean. "Do you really want to think of her? Now of all times?"

Lowering her head, Amara felt guilty for bringing this all up on their wedding day. This was a day of celebration, where worries should be over little and silly things like how the cake wasn't sweet enough or how terrible people danced. She didn't even enjoy that much since she spaced out for a whole two hours.

"I know, I know." Nodding, she gave him a fond smile. "You and I should be on my mind right now. Naran's letter just… surprised me, is all."

"And there's nothing wrong with that." His hand pressed to the side of of her head, trying to be reassuring as he always was. "Your brother means a lot to you, I know that, and I would never encourage you to forget him."

He was good to her, to her pain and her doubts. Jon always tried to salve them with his kindness, with his understanding, with his empathy. For Jon to have been through so much in his own right, he always tried to make her see the brighter side of things even when he couldn't see it all for himself.

Without warning, Jon lowered his head to press his lips to hers. Amara did not give him struggle, and could barely suppress the moan that seemed to leave her. Tonight should be spent in romance; blissfully happy with the man she married. The outside world could bother her tomorrow.

As his arms wrapped around her, she could feel herself leaning in to the pliant warmth of his body that seemed to spur her on. Everything about him was warm, from his gentle touches to his lips. Amara could feel his fire all the way to her toes and up to her fingertip, her hands grasping onto his shoulders and bawling up the material of his clothes. That warm feeling she felt the first time they were together pleasantly began to coil deep within her, becoming stronger and nearly impossible to ignore or deny.

...

"Kevan…" Tywin Lannister remained seated in his pavilion, his elbows pressed to the table and his hands locked to make a bridge. His brother stood before him, eyes still scouring the daily reports that seemed to change by the hour. Whatever his brother was reading currently had his complete focus, so much so that he didn't even hear Tywin call his name. "Kevan." He said his name again, a little bit louder this time.

Snapping his head up, Kevan looked him in the eyes to give him his full attention. "Ah, yes." Clearing his throat, the Warden of the West closed his eyes to receive the news that had been brought to him. "Tyrion is doing well as Hand though Cersei still has some complaints for the changes he made." As if he wanted his daughter's complaint. It was her rotten parenting that created this whole entire war he could've been without. "Storm's End has been attacked and conquered by an unknown army."

His brow rose at that, his eyes glittering with curiosity. "An unknown army?"

"Yes, they have no banners or House colors that we know of." Curious, Tywin wondered if they were a potential threat or someone they could join hands with. The Stark boy had made himself a large army based on his many allies he seemed to made in the near year. If only Petyr had been able to win a marriage between Joffrey and Margaery then it would've been him with the greater number and the Reach within the palm of his hand. Littlefinger would be punished for failing him in that regard.

"And you know nothing of who is at the helm of it?" Tywin asked, only to receive a solid no from his brother.

"There are only rumors." Kevan looked back down at the letters, "They say it is a Targaryen." A Targaryen? Surely not the surviving girl. It would've been hard for her to hide, but her brother was known to be dead. Another Targaryen? Surely it was some fool hiding behind a false name or perhaps someone who was using Daenerys to fight in her name.

Setting his jaw, he briefly closed his eyes to process all of this. "Anything else?"

"A foreign prince is with them and many of my men have begun to think that is also Lord Stark with them." That made his eyes shoot open and it took everything in Tywin to not slam his fist against his desk. Ned Stark? Tywin hoped the man drown at sea after his supposed escape. Now the man was back with a vengeance? If Robb Stark found out his father was alive then they would forget Lannisport and Casterly Rock. What was to stop them from marching straight to the South, join the hands of the allies Ned Stark made for themselves, and swarm King's Landing?

"Does his son know?" The question came quickly, his voice resounding all his pent up anger.

His brother shook his head, "Not that I am aware of, fortunately enough. Should we still proceed with the plans?"

Tywin, relieved, nodded. "We'll split up by first light and make our way. It is about time I bring this Wolf King and his bastard brother to the heel."