Arabella Baratheon had been through absolute hell and back and then she meets Jon Snow, a bastard boy she couldn't love. But that doesn't mean she didn't love him.
But little does she know meeting him only made things worse for herself.
Will they g...
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Jon frantically paced the room almost clawing his hairs out from their place , Arabella rolled her eyes at his act of being over dramatic at the situation.
'No!' He yelled again 'Absolutely not!'
Arabella shook her head grabbing her sword from the sheets spread out on the floor 'You don't have a say in the matter Jon, i'm your queen my vote out rules yours. So as your queen i'm asking you to drop it'
He huffed grabbing her cheeks 'And as your husband, i'm asking you not to fight!' He yelled 'Your carrying my children, what if you get hurt?'
She smacked his hand away 'I won't! If she means what she said she won't hurt me!'
'If she means what she said she'd do anything to get a place as your sworn protector..!'
'What is your logic on that one Jon? If I die there will be no one to protect?!'
Jon's cheeks burned red and his fists clenched he couldn't bare the sight of her any longer not when she was making such a stupid decision 'This should be the least of my worries right now!' He yelled 'I'm going to go help Sansa with something we should actually be doing!'
And with that Jon stormed out the room, Arabella slumped down hands in her head maybe this was the stupidest idea ever but every king and queen needed a protector, it doesn't matter if she wasn't on the throne she needed a protector and Jon as her king couldn't commence to that duty for much longer.
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Arabella fitted the chest armour to her size and looked down at herself realising her bump was extremely evident and one wrong move from her or Iona could cause an awful event.
She shook her head knowing she had to be the one to fight Iona but a little voice told her not to, and that voice seemed to get louder and louder and the louder it got her head ached and burned, before she couldn't take it much longer dropping forcefully to her knees.
Her dark hair swung behind her almost floating on the wind it looked so magical, her sword raised slashing the other girl the blonde however steadied her stance and fought through the pain now radiating through her
Arabella gasped wiping the blood from her nose and standing up staring into the fire before her surely not.. Clara is dead.
Tormund told her Clara died, he told her she was dead , gone, no longer breathing .. but her vision seemed to say otherwise.
The curtain to the tent flew open revealing a panting Blythe 'Someone is here your grace! She claims to be your friend, says she heard of your fight!'
She clutched onto her stomach trying to catch her breath 'Does this woman have a name Blythe?'
'Clara.. Tormund is with her now, he seemed angry..'
