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...
"I don't care about being queen I care about staying alive!"
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Nothing can beat the gates of Winterfell, Amara is absolutely certain of it. The moment the gates came into eye sight, it was as if all the weight of the world fell from her shoulders And she could finally breathe again. She was home, back with her father, back where she's safe and sound.
She was the first one to dismount her horse and beeline straight to her fathers open arms, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug, one he returned readily.
The two weeks his children were gone was enough to make Rickard start to wallow in the silence of the halls. He forgot what it's like when everyone is gone.
Rickard sighs as he holds Amara closer to him, "How was the trip, sweet daughter of mine?"
"Good." Amara mumbles into his fur cloak, not bothering to let go to answer him. She feels the rumble through his chest when he laughs, and only let's go when she feels the presence of her siblings behind her, knowing they wish to greet their father to.
"A feast is being prepared for us." Rickard informs his children, "All of your favorites now that your home."
"I need to wash up first." Amara scrunches her nose, having been in the same cloths for the last 2 days of travel.
"You all do." Rickard nods, "Once you're done you can meet in the great hall."
The children nod, each greeting their father one last time, before heading off to their separate quarters. Amara sighs in delight as she sees her tub already filled with warm water, making quick haste in getting in.
She hasn't felt relaxed since it was announced she would be going to the tournament, but now that she's home, she's hoping the lingering shadow of dread that still surrounds her will finally subside.
She's home.
It doesn't take long for the water to start to cool down, forcing her to get out and dressed in a new, thicker dress.
She makes it to the dinning hall before the rest of her siblings, smiling at her father as she takes the chair next to him.
"The boys didn't cause too much trouble at the tourney then?" Rickard questions.
Amara shakes her head, "None at all I'd say."
"And your sister?"
Amara shrugs, "No more than usually I suppose."
"Mm." Rickard hums, the rest of the children filing into the dinning hall and taking seats amongst the high table. The boys share stories with their father about the travel and the tournament, jesting one another as they do.
"I remember a similar tournament when I was a youth." Rickard laughs, "Though it ended very differently."
