The Targaryen Princess

VI

Two years later:

Natari's POV:

The years passed in quick succession, and I couldn't help but love it here. There is no game to play, no relationships to fake, no lies to tell. The Starks are honorable people and have no use for the deception that plagues the South. They truly are unusual, but in the best way. They gradually integrated me into their family. At first, Ned seemed to be the only one comfortable around me. I won over Catelyn and Sansa with my stories of Kings Landing, and Bran and Arya considered me a guru in all things. They would follow me everywhere, soaking up whatever advice I had to give, even though I thought I was woefully under qualified for such an appointment. Robb and Jon took the longest to accept me. They both could only see me as Targaryen. Robb looked at me and thought about how many times my family had killed his, but Jon saw himself as unworthy to even be in my presence. I tried my best to show them that I was different, but it was my combat skills was what really worked. In the beginning, it only made them upset that a girl was besting them in the arena, but they eventually threw away their pride and asked for my help. I gladly instructed them, and built our relationship. Soon, they saw who I really was and we have become best friends, joined at the hip, and causing a bit too much trouble for Ned.

It is the morning of my fifteenth birthday, and I am startled awake by the sound of rapid knocking on my door. I got up, put on my robe over my nightgown, and opened the door, revealing two young men. Robb and Jon were both taller than me now, and more bulky than when we met. They were scrawny boys then, but all of our constant training has turned them into strong young men. They kept their differences though. Robb's hair turned into a brownish red, and his features became even more defined. Jon's hair got even more curly and dark, and his cheekbones and jawline got sharper, not as sharp as Robb's, but they were certainly not round. It was sometimes difficult to believe that they were brothers. "Hello, boys," I said in a groggy voice. I stepped aside to let them in.

"Did you hear what your birthday feast is really about?" Robb asked, full of anger.

"Wow, what a way to start the day," I say back sarcastically.

"Happy Birthday, Nat," the other boy says much more calm than the other.

"Thank you, Jon," I say sincerely. "See, Robb, that's how you greet someone."

"Men from all over the kingdom are coming to if your eligible for marriage," he continues, ignoring us.

"Jealous, Robb?" I ask with a simle.

"Stop joking, Nat. They are going to try and sell you like cattle. This is serious," Robb says.

"This is tradition," I say as a matter of fact.

"What?" he asks. "How come you never told me?"

"Well, it was rather last minute," I explain. "I wasn't going to have one, until a few weeks ago when your father received a lot of ravens from Lords, asking if he was hosting one."

"And he agreed?" Robb said with his voiced raised in anger.

"Only after more and more came in, begging him," I said. "Everybody wants to fuck the Targaryen." My tone is light and I feign exasperation.

"Gods, Nat. Gross," Jon says, not liking the joke.

"What? Am I unfuckable, Jon?" I say, teasing him. His ears go red with the accusation.

"Well, I wouldn't say that," Robb speaks up with a flirty glint in his eye. I roll my eyes and throw a pillow at him, hoping he didn't notice the slight redness of my cheeks.

"You wish, Stark," I say with a laugh.

"That I do," says Robb with a playful smile.

"Oh, Gods, this sexual tension is too much. I gotta get outta here," Jon says, practically running for the door. I lock eyes with Robb and we share a look, one I have seen many times. It is a combination of playfulness and longing. Our relationship has been like this for about the past year, especially since we got so comfortable with each other. I value all the laughs we have, but I also kind of wish there was something to it.