A Prince of House Targaryen

A Bear's Roar

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Chapter 42 (Where it All Began), Chapter 43 (Harrenhal), Chapter 44 (A Feast and A Queen), Chapter 45 (Queen Rhaella and The Hidden Prince), Chapter 46 (My Name is Aemon Targaryen), Chapter 47 (Jenny of Old Stone), Chapter 48 (A Sister's Love), Chapter 49 (Arianne's Passion), Chapter 50 (Trial by Combat), Chapter 51 (Happiness), Chapter 52 (The Calm), and Chapter 53 (The Melee) are already available for Patrons.

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"All crows are liars."

Jon

After dancing more with Val, she wasn't stepping on his foot anymore; her eyes weren't leaving his eyes. It felt as if there were the only people in the hall dancing together, his grey eyes looking back at her. Val felt silly doing this; dancing wasn't something the Wildling didn't do; there was a day once a year in the Wildling culture; on that day, they would celebrate surviving and hoping that one day they would be South of the Wall. Whoever was good at singing would sing while the others made moves around. On that day, wildling often steals their partner.

Val felt her cheeks heating up at the way Jon was looking at her, and she hated herself for it, leaning close, so no one could see her face except Jon, she didn't mind even if he saw her like this, but no one else had the right to look at her in this situation.

After dancing some more, Val noticed people were changing partners, and she instantly frowned; Val didn't want to dance with anyone else; she didn't care if it was a simple dance, suddenly they saw one of the Bear women approach them, Val had to admit the woman in front of them would quickly gain quite a reputation back at the camp, unlike every other southern woman Val had seen so far, this one clearly had strength behind her body, it wasn't just a pretty face with a dress.

"Jon Snow, I was hoping we could dance?" The woman questioned with a bright smile across her face. Val looked at her carefully and was a little surprised to see a mace leaning against the chair the woman had been sitting on a minute ago. Val knew the mace was quite heavy just by the looks of it, and if someone wanted to use it on fighting, they needed to be able to use it freely without much effort.

Dacey is six feet tall, a lanky woman who finds herself at ease in a lady's garb or in leather armor. Despite her long features, Dacey remained elegant in dress and dance; she was six feet tall. She was wearing a long green dress with the house mormont sigil stitched on the front. Full lips, long dark hair like a crow, a small nose with light blue eyes, a long and beautiful face, long strong fingers that she probably used to lift her mace, as tall as Jon, and a bit taller than Val, who was 5.7 feet tall.

"You are?" Jon questioned; Val looked intrigued; she could see why they were warriors.

"Dacey Mormont of Bear Island, just call me Dacey." She said sharply before her eyes settled on Val, who looked back at her.

"You are, my lady?" She questioned with a little smile of her own; just like Val, Dacey could tell the woman in front of her was a warrior, and her eyes could see the hidden dagger in her white clothes; she had to give credit to her, sadly she wasn't into blades, she preferred a mace, and that one can't be hidden.

"Just Val, I'm no Lady," Val answered quickly, looking a bit annoyed, but she quickly masked her annoyance with a small smile; she knew South of the Wall, everyone called each other that for some unknown reason, she knew she would eventually get used to it, probably.