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Snippet #2544186

located in Our World, a part of Crowns, Empires and Swords, one of the many universes on RPG.

Our World



Characters Present

Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of The Harbinger Character Portrait: Amelia Targaryen Character Portrait: Jon Stark Character Portrait: Da'Karro Misantri Character Portrait: Clara 'Scarlet'  Stark Character Portrait: Robb Stark Character Portrait: Arya Stark
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Dawn fell on New Castle and in the chamber of The King of The North, The King slumbered. Beside him lay a beautiful woman, draped over his chest, her head resting over his heart. Her sliver hair, radiant as the moon, cascaded down her back and spilled onto the sheets. Her skin, fine as the richest silk was kissed by the sun like a lover waking her for a new day. She smiled softly as sleep slipped away and her mind began to stir. Her hand ran up the kings chest and he stirred as well, but only for a moment. As her emerald green eyes slowly flicked open and she looked upon the face of the sleeping man that would one day be her husband a feeling of serenity fell over her. It had been so long since he'd been able to sleep soundly through the night. His worries plagued him at night. Through dreams and even prophetic visions, so often accompanied by the image of a three eyed raven he'd tell her. Last night when he came to her she'd boasted, jokingly, that he would be too tired to dream when she was done with him.

Now he slept, perhaps too exhausted from their romp the night prior, perhaps finally at peace with his duties as king. Whatever the case Jon Stark slept soundly and Amelia Targaryen rose from the bed they shared. She slowly made her way across the room, her bare feet padding softly across the old wooden floor. Amelia was still getting used to the cold here in The North. Everything was cold. The days were cold, the nights were colder. Even now as the sun woke the world the very floor she walked on seemed chilled and frosty. She was quick to step on the bear skin rug on the other side of the room where some of her clothes had been set. She slipped on a pair of soft, doeskin slippers lined with rabbit fur given to her by Jon's uncle Eddard for those cold Northern mornings as he put it. He'd said his wife and daughters swore by them. As her feet slipped inside the soft fur she could see why.

She pulled on a thin night gown then a heavier, woolen robe before she sat in front of the mirror to tend to her hair. She missed Missandei. She missed the young woman's voice and her stories as the two women would do each others hair in the mornings. She missed Ser Jorah and his ever watchful eye and dutiful council. He still didn't even know she was due to marry Jon. She wondered what he'd say about the engagement. Most of all she missed her children, her dragons. She'd never been away from them this long and her heart yearned for them.

There was a soft knock at the door followed by Jon's squire's voice, begging pardon and asking permission to enter the room in order to change the chamber pot.

"Come in."

Amelia said politely. Podrick stepped into the room, half tip toeing, worried as to the early hour when at truth the sun had been up for some time and it was Jon and Amelia who had been sleeping in. He gave Amelia a hurried half bow.

"Beg'n your pardon, Your Grace. I'll just change these and get out of your way. Apologies."

He said emphatically as he hurried in with two new chamber pots to replace the used ones that needed a good washing out. Amelia found her self smiling at the young man. He was so worried all the time about doing a good job he often spent more time falling over himself to realize how splendid a job he was actually doing.

"No need to apologize Podrick, please. Really, it's no bother at all."

Podrick nodded respectfully to Amelia as he collected the dirty chamber pots and rushed for the door.

"My thanks, Your Grace."

He said as he readied to leave. Amelia's mind snapped back to her yearning to those she missed and she called out for Podrick before he left.


"Yes, Your Grace?"

He asked, standing in the door.

"Would you bring me some parchment? And a quill and ink as well?"

"Of course, Your Grace. Right away."

He said and Podrick was off. Amelia turned back to the mirror to finish readying her long, trademark hair for the day. She had decided to braid it in the Dothraki fashion today. That meant she had a bit of braiding to do so she set to her task, her delicate fingers moving with practiced ease as her betrothed roused from his slumber.


Arya loved her gift. The shinning Mithril was light as a feather but as hard as dragon scales, or at least that's what she had been told by New Castle's meister when she'd asked about it. Her cousin Jon had gotten it for her and she couldn't be more pleased. She finally had armor of her own and it was light and thin so she could wear it under her clothes and it not be seen. That allowed her to sneak around effortlessly without a big clunky suit of iron or steel. She had always wondered that as she grew would she get a suit of armor like her brother and cousin? If so how in the world was she supposed to be stealthy with all that mess?

In any case she had her new gift and she had to thank her cousin. She ran to his room but only found Amelia. She was nice enough but reminded her too much of Sansa. Ever since their reunion Sansa had been practically stuck to her side. She and her sister had this long, boring talk when they got back about how sad Sansa was that Arya didn't want her as a sister and she'd told her that she'd overheard her saying that to Clara. Arya had to admit, she did feel a little bad about that. She had never intended for Sansa to hear that. So Sansa had decided they were going to try, really try and get along. Arya had her reservations but she promised she'd try. That didn't mean she had to spend every waking minute with her older sister.

She left Amelia in the room where she was finishing getting dressed and bounded down the stairs for the great hall. It was there she found her cousin. He was seated at the long table breaking his fast on oats, chickens eggs, brown bread, fresh berries and beer. He was sitting with her father and Lord Umber along with the three mercenary captains that just signed on with them the other day. The braavosi was casually sopping up some porridge. The Hound, as he was called, was tearing into some chicken. The other man, the man named Jaqen had an empty plate in front of him. He'd either finished eating or never ate at all and was sipping some cool water from his mug. As she approached, quiet as a mouse he seemed to sense her and turn in an instant. His odd eyes locking on to hers and a faint smile touched his lips.

"Lovely girl, good morning."

He said with a respectful nod. Arya froze in her tracks a moment and stared at him. No one ever caught her sneaking up on them before. She nodded back to him and mumbled some greeting before making her way around the table to Jon. Her father said good morning to her, which she returned but for Jon she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him lovingly.

"Thanks so much for the gift Jon, I love it."

Jon seemed pleased by the hug but confused more than anything.

"Gift? What gift?"

She let go of him and stepped back, unsure if he was trying to play some sort of joke on her.

"The shirt?.... The one you left in my room? The Mirthil one you idiot."

The Hound chuckled at that and the Braavosi smirked. Her father chided her for insulting Jon but he waved it off with a laugh.

"I'd love to take credit for that Arya but I swear, I left no Mithril shirt in your room. I think I might remember that."

Her father leaned forward and pulled her toward him. His fingers tugged at her collar and he touched the Mithril beneath. He inspected it for a moment and Lord Umber, who was craning in his seat to see, let loose an impressed whistle.

"Fine work. That is a kingly gift."

"Yes... but not from this king."

Lord Eddard said, seeming troubled. Her father seemed troubled about everything.

"Well if you didn't give this to me, who did?"

Jon shrugged in his seat.

"Don't know, it's a mystery looks like."

"Mystery eh?"

Arya said intrigued before she headed off. Her father told her to be sure to take the shirt off and leave it in his room until they found out whose it was. Arya promised but never did make it to her fathers room, even hours later.


Robb carried her in his arms as Da'Karro stalked at his left and Clara and her new pup pranced in front. She was happy to be home and Robb was just happy Robyns ordeal was done with. He walked right passed the others, caring little for their stares of disbelief at Robyn Sheva alive and in his arms. They all took her for dead, they all gave up and he had no time for them. His cousin rushed out to meet them, as shocked as the rest of them. It was harder to be mad at Jon but Jon should have known better than to give up on her.

"Robb? Is that?..."

He began before Robb cut him off.

"She's not dead."

He snapped as he walked up the steps and began moving past Jon.

"Where was she?"

He asked.

"The Dread Fort."

He shot back, over his shoulder not caring to stop and chat. As Robb continued up the stairs and towards his room he barked for a meister to come tend to Robyn's numerous wounds. Leaving a very confused Jon with a very excited Clara who, at the moment was thanking him for sending Ghost with Da'Karro. Jon was more than just confused, he had no idea what was going on. He turned to look at Amelia who was rushing over to embrace Clara.

"Clara, what happened to you? Are you alright? What happened to the captain?"

Jon looked down at Ghost and could still see the dried blood around his muzzle.

"I'm fine, I swear. They found me just in time."

She said smiling before she scurried off after the captain and Robb. Jon shared a look with Amelia and they both broke out into a happy and relieved chuckle as well as both sharing in a bit of confusion. Jon would give them some time before going after Robb to get the whole story.