A/N: Would love to hear everyone's thoughts! I'm not sure if y'all are liking it or not, so reviews would be greatly appreciated! But nonetheless, thank you for the support and hope you enjoy Amirina's nameday!

Also! Guess who found out she was related to Catherine de Medici and is a direct descendent of the best character on Reign? This girl lol

Disclaimer: Same old, same old

"Must you tighten it so much, Renee?" Amirina sucked in a breath, leaning her hands against the wall.

The handmaiden scoffed, "Would ya rather look like ya have some form of breasts, or would ya rather look like a ten year old boy?"

Amirina rolled her eyes. "My breasts are larger than your's."

Renee laughed and pulled a string harder than necessary, causing Amirina to stumble slightly. "Try me, princess," the girl sassed back. "Ya should be thanking me fer makin' ya look like a roasted stag in front of a starvin' man."

"I don't need help to look as such," Amirina stated confidently, looking back at the fiery haired girl.

"Is that what Theon tells ya? Or per'aps Robb? Or per'aps even that one bastard, Gendry?" the pale, green-eyed beauty asked.

"Actually," Amirina started, "all three do."

Renee laughed then, appreciating the sarcasm of her lady. "Gods, Rina, ya have those Northern men wrapped around yer finger," she said, no hint of jealousy in her voice. Amirina knew how Renee liked her men. She liked them lean and dark, like the Dornish men. The southern girl liked the northern men, and the northern girl liked the southern men.

Amirina sighed then, "Yes, but not the one I wish for."

Rina had told one person of her…likings. And that person was Renee. The girl was close in age to her, a year younger, and a blunt realist. Amirina found she could trust the girl early when she had been assigned to be one of her handmaidens. She ended up trusting her more than anyone that was female at the moment. She would voice her opinions but would not voice other's secrets. She was a good person like that.

"I know, Rina," she stated, as if slightly saddened by the fact. "But can ya blame 'im for bein' blind to it. I bet the boy hasn't even seen a pair of tits since he suckled from 'is mother's own. It doesn't help that yer 'is cousin. He can't see ya in that way when all you've done is act like an older sister to 'im."

Rina nodded in agreement, albeit hesitantly. It was like she didn't want to agree with the fact. She hated that fact.

"He doesn't even look at me," Amirina stated, frustration clear in her voice. "Just a look. That's all I truly wish for. Perhaps then, he would like myself as I like him."

"He saw ya naked," Renee sniggered, tying the final knots on Amirina's corset.

"Oh shush, Renee, he didn't even see me. He looked away like a celibate knight the entire time," Amirina said, a small smile on her lips.

"Per'aps," Renee started, smoothing out Rina's underskirts, "he likes men."

Amirina burst into laughter, her corset threatening to crush her torso with each syllable. "He most definitely does not enjoy the company of a man!"

Renee shrugged, pulling Amirina's thick curls up so she could start working on her updo. "I wouldn't be sure, Ri. If I was 'im, I woulda jumped ya the moment I saw ya without any clothes on," she teased.

"Renee-"

"Rina!" the girl exclaimed suddenly. "What in the seven hells happened to yer shoulder?!"

Amirina froze at this remark, surprised the girl had caught it. Jon said nothing, so she assumed it was just a mental thing (despite having felt something the other day). "I…uh, fell off that damned horse and I am fairly certain I must have landed myself with some frostbite," she said quickly, perhaps too quickly. "It is fine, I barely feel it." Renee didn't seem to notice however and simply stated:

"Ya must have Luwin look at it."

Amirina nodded, wanting the subject to pass, which it seemingly did. Renee started talking about other matters as she began braiding certain strands of curled hair.

"Have ya written that one lord back?" she asked, pulling some strands from away from her face.

Amirina rolled her eyes and handed a piece of the dark hair to her handmaid. "By old and new, no. I nearly retched upon my lap when I read his last letter," she said, sighing in disappointment.

Renee giggled, "Oh shush, Rina. He's an heir. He'll sing ya sweet words o' poetry and make ya fat with child."

"Ah yes, the wondrous life of a woman," she teased back, tilting her head back slightly for Renee.

The younger girl chuckled and held some strands together, reaching over to grab Rina's hair comb. The piece of jewelry was intricate and old, something her mother had apparently worn at a lot of large gatherings. It was silver, flower designs with pearls decorating it. It wasn't small, but it wasn't gaudy, and Amirina loved that her father had given it to her years ago. It was one of her most prized possessions. Her only connection to her mother really.

Renee had braided the sides of Rina's hair back, pulling them together into the center of the back of her head. She pinned the two braids together with the hair comb, letting the natural ringlets cascade down her shoulders and back. Renee then proceeded to decorate the thick braids with small flowers, adding a bit more of a feminine touch than she might have intended.

The two worked in silence then, Amirina waiting for her dress. Renee grabbed it from the oak dresser, holding it carefully. She didn't want to risk ruining the fine detailing. Despite the low risk of doing so, the handmaiden still held onto the dress with such care it could be compared to a mother with her babe. Amirina wanted to chuckle at the observation.

Renee signaled for her to turn around, and Amirina did as such, watching as Renee pulled the dress up. The handmaiden separated the back, the lacing undone so she could slip the fabric over Rina's head. Amirina lifted her arms, the dress barely touching her as Renee placed it over her. The fabric clung to her waist perfectly, as it had been designed to do so. The skirt flowed effortlessly and Amirina couldn't wait to do a spin or two to see it in its finality. Amirina pushed her arms through the tight sleeves and turned around once more. Renee pushed the Martell's hair to the side, causing Rina to hold it up as the girl laced the back up.

Renee laced the dress with quick precision, the fabric now holding in place against her chest. The girl patted Rina on the back, allowing Rina to drop her curls and let them fall back into place.

"Yer all ready, Ri," Renee said, forcing Rina to turn around.

Amirina smiled at her handmaiden and wrapped her arms around the girl. "Thank you, Renee," she said, pulling away from the hug slowly.

Renee chuckled and fixed a strand of hair quickly, "Ya haven't even seen yerself, Ri. Don't thank me yet."

Amirina gave a quick laugh before rolling her eyes good-naturedly. "Shush now, Renee. I find myself to have far more eyes upon me when you have made me up for the day," she said, winking in the process. "Now, my dear, allow me the honor of having you escort me to my feast."

Renee gave a mock gasp and bowed lightly. "It would most certainly be my honor to escort ya, princess," she said, faux pride in her Northern voice.

Amirina laughed with the girl, linking her arm with her as the two stepped out of her room, heading for the night of her life.

"I can't say that I'm surprised to see ya here, Snow," a voice said, waking Jon from his stupor.

The bastard son turned and made eye contact with his half brother, a sigh of relief escaping his lips. For a moment, he had thought that the Greyjoy had been speaking to him. He rather not get into it with him on this night. On Amirina's night.

"Lady Catelyn made it clear Amirina wished for my presence, yet also managed to make me fearful of fulfilling our cousin's wants," Jon stated truthfully, lifting a goblet to his lips. It wasn't filled with wine, but instead with cold water. He needed the water to keep a clear mind. And he rather liked water over wine or mead or whatever they served at feasts.

Robb chuckled and took a breath, walking to stand beside Jon. "That would be my mother," he said with light jest, but also with slight disappointment, making Jon feel less alone.

"She's a real charmer." Jon looked around, observing every face in the crowd. He had heard rumors that Amirina's future husband would make an appearance, a surprise one at that. He knew she would be infuriated but would be unable to do anything in public so as to not embarrass her family nor herself. He hoped the gossip was simply words in the wind.

Robb then looked over to Jon, a curious look in his eyes. "People're saying you've seen our dear cousin…indecent. Is that true, brother?" he questioned, a strange tone to his voice.

Jon waved it off automatically. "Rina was screaming in the throughs of her dreams. I went in and by old and new Robb, she was sweating like a pig. Her head was warm and she complained of a chill. I immediately thought of helping her into a warm bath, as that's what Lady Catelyn always did for Sansa. I kept my eyes averted and ensured she stayed out of my line of sight or covered if my eyes were upon her. I would not ever desecrate our cousin as such," he defended, as if he had said the speech a thousand times. And he probably had, seeing as how much word was traveling.

Robb gave a chuckle and clapped Jon on the shoulder. "I know brother. You're far too timid to even look at her when she's dressed. I will ensure my mother is not bothered by it, however, as she's no doubt heard of the whispers by now," he said amicably and in full support, receiving a smile from Jon.

"Thank you, Robb," Jon said, looking over at his sibling. His brother simply gave him a large smile, one of kindness and something else. Something Jon had no clue of.

Robb took in a deep breath and allowed his eyes to search the feast. "I wonder where our dear cousin is? How long does it take a lady to groom another until fit for the public's attention," he joked lightly, nudging Jon.

Jon chuckled in response and rolled his eyes. "It would appear it takes far too long."

Robb laughed with amusement and opened his mouth to say something, but his eyes caught onto something and his lips stayed apart if only slightly. Jon cocked an eyebrow and turned to look over where his brother's eyes were landed, and even he became entranced for a moment.

Amirina had walked in, smiling and laughing with another girl who had a head of fire. Jon had seen the other girl before, as he deduced that she was Rina's handmaiden or lady or whatever they called them. She was pretty, Jon believed. A hair of fiery red, and eyes of ivy green. Yeah, he thought her pretty, even if she did have a bit of a fox's face.

But gods, Amirina looked beautiful, and while it took Jon a moment to realize it, he eventually did. Her dark curls bounced with each step she took, strands from the sides of her face pulled back into braids. Her eyes were looking a bit hazel at the moment due to the warmth of the Great Hall, but they twinkled with amusement and happiness. Her freckles stood out against her skin for once, as she had no hair to cover her face and the light forced them to pop. Her smile widened with each word her handmaid spoke, her teeth shining slightly. Her face was the epitome of happiness, and Jon thought it made her look best.

But then his eyes traveled. They traveled to her dress and the body underneath. Jon thought the dress complimented her figure well, and that the blues stood out against her skin and made her seem exotic almost. Yes, the blues were their colors, but she made the color foreign, as you never saw a beautiful girl of Southern color in the blues of the Stark household. It made him want to go up to her. It made him want to inspect every stitch in the fabric, every design. Contrary to what he had told his brother, he had peeked, if only for a brief moment and a one of weakness. One that none would know of. But he knew what she looked like under that dress, and Gods, she was-

Jon immediately stopped his train of thoughts. He shook his head and felt that his collar and trousers were a bit too warm and tight. He looked around, his eyes desperately searching for something, anything, to distract himself. He couldn't think that way. She was his cousin! She was practically his sister, he had told her as much already. She was his friend. She was not some woman he could throw his fantasies to. Nor was she just some woman who he could pursue after and hope for a chance…even though he definitely did not want that. She was family. That was not something people engaged in anymore. That practice died with Robert's Rebellion. Siblings, cousins. Done. And Jon told himself he would not fantasize of such a thing anymore.

"I'll be back," he muttered to his brother, loosening his collar slightly and walking towards the back, where he might be able to sneak out and take a moment to find clarity in the cold air.

Two people stood off to the side, a man and a woman. The woman was of average height with a blessed figure. Her hair was a pale red and done intricately upon her head. Her face was quite beautiful, her nose sharp and her face somewhat thin. Her ice blue eyes stared out at the people over the rim of her wine-filled goblet, assessing everyone in the crowd.

The man was handsome. He held a strong jaw with thin lips, a thin moustache above those. His hair was blond and curled slightly, yet done up. He had blue eyes similar to that of the woman's, and he leaned to his left slightly. A cane was visible in his left hand, showing the fact that he was crippled and his left leg was the poorly functioning one. He was taller than most, but shorter than a lot. But he was handsome, and anyone could see that.

"Where is she?" he asked impatiently.

The girl rolled her eyes and took another drink from her goblet. "You mustn't worry, Willas. She'll be here. It's her feast for gods' sakes," she said, acting as if she were the older of the two, when in reality, he was.

"She's to be my wife, Margaery," he said quietly, looking over at his beautiful younger sister. He then straightened his collar slightly and looked out at the crowd of people once more. "I'm allowed to worry where she is."

"She could be your wife," Margaery pointed out, a look of annoyance in her eyes. "That doesn't mean she is to be your wife. By the Seven Willas, she barely sends raven back after you write her. You know she does not want this."

Willas closed his eyes in annoyance. Yes. He knew very well how Amirina Martell was not at all fond of their potential betrothal. His grandmother and Prince Doran Martell were still negotiating certain things of which Willas could care less for.

"I heard her bastard cousin saw her indecent," Margaery gossiped, an amused tone to her voice.

Willas looked over at his sister, tired of her games but willing to indulge her. "Is that so?"

Margaery nodded, a smirk on her thin lips. "Why, yes dear brother. It happened earlier today, I heard. I wonder if he was gifting her her nameday gift," she said, as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

Willas laughed then. "It amazes me dear sister, that you can believe whispers and hear such things with only having been here for mere hours. I do admire such an ability," he teased slightly, but was also dead serious. He had no idea as to how Margaery managed to arrive at a location and suddenly know everything about everyone within hours or minutes. It…disconcerted him greatly. "But you mustn't listen to silly rumors of my soon to be wife. Our grandmother will not hear of them."

Margaery shrugged her shoulders and took another sip from her goblet. "Whatever suits you best, brother."

Willas smiled in content and was about to leave the subject but silenced all thoughts. His eyes caught a woman who seemed to be the object of the feast. She had to be, he thought. Her dark hair was done up and curls cascaded down her back. She held a gleaming smile upon her features, smile lines accessorizing the smile. Light freckles were dotted across her face, and her skin was tanned in complexion. But her eyes. Willas wished for a time he might lose himself within them. They were hazel and Willas wished to see them up close, not just lengths away.

He could not truly see her dress, but he assumed it was as beautiful as her. He hoped it was at least.

"I assume you've seen your bride to be?" Margaery asked, the slight green of envy crawling upon her tongue and words.

Willas nodded his head, uncomposed for a few moments. He shook his head then, trying to rid himself of his distraction. Yes, the woman was beautiful (which he had heard of), but he had to realize it. He had seen it, now he had to process it and rid of it as a distractor in his mind.

"Indeed I have," he muttered, grabbing his previously forgotten goblet and taking an uncharacteristic swig of it.

Amirina smiled as people she barely knew came up to greet her. She smiled and nodded and chuckled alongside them, simply to sate their needs for the girl of the feast to favor them. She found it rather tedious, but it was something she had to endure for the sake of her name. Martell. Gods, sometimes she believed it to be a curse to be a southerner in northerner's clothing. In the south, in Sunspear, these events…they just weren't the same. They were more…intimate in the North, in the way of more people clamoring to receive your attentions.

The Martell sighed, wishing for a more southern affair. And when she meant southern, she meant Dornish. She wanted to scoff at the term the northerners gave to those around King's Landing. They were not southerners. Dorne was the south of Westeros. The Dornishmen were southerners, not some pompous pricks who "ruled over the Seven Kingdoms". It itched her skin like a beetle crawling upon her.

"You're a pretty lass," the drunk voice of the Smalljon called out. Amirina could hear the slur of his words and could smell the mead on his breath.

She turned to face him and smiled, finding that he was fairly comedic in some senses from what she had seen at the feast so far. "And you're a drunk," she said in jest.

The tall northern man gave a deep laugh and walked over to Amirina. He clapped her on the shoulders and smiled at her, his face ruddy from drink and whiskers around his dark eyes from smiling. "Aye, but drink has made ya even prettier than ya were before," he said, grabbing her hand and leading her to the floor for dancing. Amirina's eyes widened by his forwardness but followed along, simply not to upset the drunk man.

People danced along the wood floors, smiling and laughing. Servants who normally would be serving or cleaning or spending time doing nothing were invited to partake in the festivities on request of Amirina, as that was the custom in Dorne. Her eyes trailed the spinning fabrics of dresses, the glimmering of smiles, and the way men held onto the women of whom they loved. It made a small smile grace the Martell's lips and made her want to join in on the fun. She wanted tonight to be one in which people could be free of responsibility and simply enjoy themselves.

The Smalljon captured her attention immediately, as if sensing she was not fully there. "Come now, little snake. Come dance with a Northern man," he said, as if it was not an option, simply a command.

Amirina raised an eyebrow but did as told, curtseying slightly to the man. She had not danced a Northern dance in quite some time, but she remembered a few bits and pieces of it. The Smalljon gave a drunk smirk and grabbed Amirina by the waist. The girl gave a slight gasp, surprised by how straightforward he was but amused by how drunk he truly was.

The dark-haired giant of a man spun her out, forcing her hand to hold onto his at the last second. He pulled her back quickly and smiled at the laugh that escaped her lips. "Ya better hold on lass, wouldn't want to hurt yer pretty face," he smirked beneath his dark beard.

Amirina gave a chuckle and smiled. "I can keep up," she challenged.

The Umber gave a hearty laugh and began twirling her, picking her up, and dancing across the wood with her.

Amirina knew she shouldn't be having as much fun as she was having with the man. She had heard things…a lot of things about the eldest Umber son. He was rumored to be cold, calculating, and knew how to manipulate his way into getting what he wished for. He was said to have tortured wildlings for simply stepping into the forests surrounding the Last Hearth. He was said to hate his father with every fiber of his being. Yet, Amirina found him to be refreshing at the moment. He was an escape for the moment.

Amirina gave another laugh as the Umber spun her around once more. Her skirts circled around her and her hair followed suit, the curls spinning and flying through the warm air around them. Her smile was wide as she closed her eyes and looked not at the Umber. This was her moment of fun for the first time of the night, she would not base it around anyone.

And just as quickly as she had started spinning, she stopped and laughter flowed from her as her surroundings tilted lightly. The deep and drunken chuckle from the Smalljon caused her to turn her attention back to him and she caught a gleam in his eyes that suddenly made her laughter stop. The look in his dark eyes made those orbs even darker and a hint of something…of malice, and suddenly her previous thoughts of who he truly was ran rampant in her mind. She felt her hand tighten from the pressure of his own, only slightly, but she felt it. And she feared it. What had she done?

A resounding applause stirred her from her thoughts, and a tense smile pulled across her lips. Her etiquette forced her into a curtsy and she felt the Umber follow suit with a bow. Her eyes searched the crowd for anyone she knew hurriedly, wishing out of the situation. She was nervous…her father oft made sure she was never. She didn't know how to handle the man grasping her hand a bit too tightly. A pair of dark brown eyes caught her's and she felt the worry of her uncle. He was an excuse. Amirina smiled and turned back to the Smalljon. The malice was gone from his gaze, but Amirina still felt the chills of unease racking her body.

"Thank you, Lord Umber," Amirina said, curtsying politely. "I appreciated the dance quite a lot."

The Smalljon grasped her hand once more and lifted it to his lips; his rough beard tickling her skin as he kissed the back of her hand. "No need fer formalities, little snake. Ya can call me Jon," he said, looking down at her and yet he still held her hand.

Amirina smiled politely and was about to excuse herself but the Smalljon caught something behind her and sighed. "It seems yer uncle wishes fer yer presence. We shall…stay in contact, little snake."

The tall man turned and slid through the dancers, his gigantic frame disappearing.

Amirina finally took a deep breath and turned to go outside for a fresh whiff of calm air. Ned would wait.

Jon sat upon the small stairs that led up to the walkway that led to the Great Hall. He gave a sigh and ran a hand down his face, tired and wondering why in all the hells he wasn't in there. It was his cousin's nameday and yet there he sat. It had not been a quick time either. Not something he used to clear his mind quickly. He had practically sat the entire night outside. And what ran through his mind? Nothing. He thought of nothing in his time outside.

Jon looked out to the dark in front of him and breathed in the cool air, his breath coming out in a puff. He reached down into his plain and dark doublet, grasping the necklace he had had made. He looked down at it and rubbed his thumb over the claw and the sapphire beads that spread next to it. The black rope was plain and all the decoration was in the claw and eight beads. He knew Amirina would like it...or he assumed he knew.

He looked back up and was about to stand to go and gift the necklace to Rina, but he hesitated when he heard footsteps.

"How is it that you always sneak out of my nameday celebrations?" the voice of Amirina Martell teased as she walked up.

Jon turned and looked up, a small smile on his lips. "Aye, it seems I always find a way."

Amirina chuckled and walked down the steps slightly, sitting next to Jon. She rubbed her hands together slightly and Jon noticed the chill overtaking her body. He had no cloak on him but he knew an old arm around the shoulder helped. He reached over and pulled her close, feeling her shiver slightly.

Amirina leaned her head upon his shoulder and he could hear her sigh. "What bothers you, cousin?" he inquired, looking straight ahead.

"I'm fairly certain that I may have just give the Smalljon the wrong impression," she confessed, her voice confused almost.

Jon chuckled slightly, unknowing to the horrors spoken of the Smalljon, "And just how do you accomplish such a task, Rina?"

"Dancing."

Jon laughed and pulled her tighter to him. "Only you would manage to make a man fall in love with you with a dance."

Amirina huffed with humor and Jon could feel her shake her head against his shoulder. He looked over at her and saw a small smile on her lips, one of contentment and peace. He smiled down at her and something in his right hand took his attention.

"Oh," he mumbled, taking his right hand and reaching it over towards Amirina, "I almost forgot your gift."

Amirina looked up at him and looked back at his hand. Jon opened his clenched fingers and revealed the necklace, the claw sitting perfectly in his palm.

Amirina gave a childish squeal and greedily took it to inspect it. "By old and new, Jon!" she exclaimed happily, holding the necklace in the air. "Where did you get the claw?! What kind is it? It looks like the size of a mountain lion, does it not? But it's shaped like a wolf's..."

Jon chuckled and motioned to help clasp it around her neck. Amirina nodded hurriedly and handed the jewelry to her cousin. He took the necklace and undid the clasp at the top, wrapping it around her neck and quickly closing it so it would stay on. Amirina looked down and quickly wrapped her arms around Jon's neck.

"Thank you, Jon. It's by the far the greatest gift someone has ever given me," she said, her voice sincere. Her smile was wide and Jon couldn't help but stare for a few moments. "I thought perhaps you'd write another story for me to add to my book, but this is better. I absolutely love it."

Jon was taken aback for a moment.

"You still have the book?" he asked, surprised and touched.

Amirina's expression changed to one as if she was surprised he'd even ask. "Of course I do, Jon! Why wouldn't I? It sits by my bedside in Sunspear. I read it almost every night," she smiled, rising to her feet.

Jon couldn't help the feeling of warmth that crept into his body and lightened his heart.

"Now, we must go back, dear cousin. It is my nameday feast, and we have yet to dance." She held out her hand to him and he took it, the warmth not receding.

Jon went with her. Of course he did. He always would go with her. He just didn't know it yet.

A/N: God…that was more difficult to get through than I thought it would be. I had one thing planned and when I finished, I hated it. It didn't flow. And right now, it's getting much harder, because I changed my whole outline for this pre-cannon shit. So I'll leave it up to y'all. I hope it was an okay chapter. It isn't what I totally wanted, but it was close enough to my second of four ways. I hope you liked all of the moments and pov's, and I'm sorry if I disappointed in any way.

I'd love to hear your thoughts on:

-How much longer you want pre canon to last?

-What do you want to see pre canon wise? What relationships do you want me to develop more?

-What are your thoughts on Willas? Smalljon? Who would you rather she be betrothed to? (Because I can't decide which one would work better and betrothals can change wink wink)

-Was this chapter alright?

I'd love to hear your thoughts! Please, they really do mean a lot. I'm not asking for reviews, but more than two or three are certainly helpful for new chapters with this pre-cannon era. Thank you all, I love you so much.

-P

CWG-967: Much Love! Thank you for your continuous support!

HPuni101: Ahhh I missed your reviews! I was wondering where you went! So glad you're happy with how things are going! I hope I didn't disappoint! Love you!