Amara Stark wanted a simple life in the North. She wanted the cold, the snow, and to never have to deal with those in the south. She had no ambitions to ever leave her home, she loved it too much. She didn't believe she'd ever love anything more tha...
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(There's no actual smut, but since it does reference to it, I've rated the chapter 18+)
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The marriage ceremony went off without incident. It was beautiful and grand, everything one would expect a Royal wedding to be.
There were so many faces and congratulations, that eventually, all the faces started to muddle together in Amara's mind, introduction after instruction. Everyone wanted to meet the new princess consort— the future queen of the seven kingdoms. The woman who undoubtedly stole the young Targaryen princes heart.
No one could deny that Rhaegar was in love with his bride. The glow radiating off him was one of a man in love. His eyes shown with adoration every time he gazed at the black haired woman. He never left her side, always having his hand on her arm, or cheek, or back. He spoke so softly with her and his smile was one of deep fondness.
After the ceremony, came the feast, Amara and Rhaegar sitting at the high table alone. The king and queen were not among the guests, having swiftly returned to their quarters after the ceremony. Amara was surprised to even see them at all.
She's only caught a few glimpses of the Queen since she's been here. She's beautiful, in her Targaryen glory, but she was paler than Rhaegar, skinny too. She always had a frown on her face, and her eyes were hollow. Amara knows Queen Rhaella has had quite a few miscarriages, only having one child survive pregnancy. She's been looked at as inadequate, for only providing the crown with one heir. She was also married to King Aerys, a man known for his conspiracies of betrayal and vicious attacks to those he deems un-loyal.
The ceremony was the first time Amara had seen the king. His eyes sunken in, skin an ash grey from lack of sunlight, his long hair missing in most areas atop his head, greasy from not being washed. His nails were long and over grown, body deathly skinny from not eating. His skin bruising where his bones were starting to rub. He truly looked like the mad king everyone described him as.
Amara wasn't too upset they left so quickly.
"You look happy." Rhaegar whispers in her ear, drawing her attention away from all the dancing couples around the room, to his smiling face.
"It is our wedding feast." Amara raises an amused brow, "Should I not be happy?"
Rhaegar chuckles softly, "I have just never seen you smile so wide."
"My family is here." Amara looks back out to the room, spotting where the table full of northern men are, "I have missed them dearly."
