The Vailed Dragon

Whispers In the Shadows

The scent of smoke and desire permeated the air within Alysane's brothel, the Velvet Dragon,The name causing her to chuckle to herself non the less the establishment was nestled discreetly in the heart of Winterfell. Ros, one of Alysane's favorite girls that she saw more as a friend and with too much wine or Ale a confidant, sat perched on a plush crimson cushion of Alysanes private "chamber", her long tresses cascading down her bare shoulders. Alysane leaned against the carved oak bar, her eyes glinting mischievously as they surveyed the dimly lit room.

"So, Ros, any tales to share today?" Alysane inquired, her voice laced with a playful yet curious tone.

Ros chuckled, her eyes gleaming with amusement. "Oh, my lady, you always hunger for the juiciest gossip. Well, word has it that Lord Tarly seeks the companionship of Lady Baratheon's handmaiden. Seems like the noble lords have a taste for the forbidden, don't you think?"

Alysane's lips curled into a sly smile. "Ah, the tangled webs they weave. It seems their titles and honor are no match for their desires. Keep me informed of any more information that decides to reveal themselves, my dear."

~

As the evening unfolded, Alysane strolled through the corridors of Winterfell, her steps graceful and purposeful. Her mind wandered, contemplating the peculiar sense of unease that had settled upon her. Something felt off, as if a whisper of an unseen dragon brushed against her skin. She couldn't quite shake the nagging feeling, but she continued her aimless exploration nonetheless.

Lost in her thoughts, Alysane found herself drawn toward the godswood. The ancient heart trees stood sentinel, their weathered faces etched with centuries of wisdom. She meandered amidst the sacred grove. The Godswood was said to be a sanctuary, a place where one sought solace from the weight of secrets, though she always wondered how. She believed in parts of each faith but had set her eyes -discreetly- on the gods of old Valyria, little would she know she would soon despise them.

"Lost, are we?" a voice called out, interrupting Alysane's thoughts.

She turned to find Jon Snow, his dark eyes filled with curiosity. His presence always piqued her interest, a lingering enigma yet a sort of comfort she yearned to unravel.

Alysane smirked, her voice tinged with playful banter. "Jon Snow, ever the curious one. I was merely seeking the serenity of the godswood. And what brings you here, my brooding friend?"

Jon shrugged, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, the man known for his sulking demeanor would smile in her presence. "Perhaps I sensed a kindred spirit amidst these ancient trees or perhaps a damsel but I highly doubt that you would seek me out in distress. Though you always seem to be surrounded by secrets, Alysane-" he paused for a slight moment his smirk growing in a playful manner. "Care to share one with me?"

Alysane's laughter danced through the air like music to Jons ears, mingling with the whispering wind. "Ah, Jon, secrets are what keep the world spinning. But don't worry, I have no ill intentions towards you. Not today, at least."

Their conversation drifted into the depths of the godswood, the sun casting long shadows while they walked aimlessly as time slipped away. Eventually, they bid each other farewell, their words lingering in the hallowed silence. Jon, intrigued and Alysane left with a twinge of happiness due to their conversation.

As dusk settled over Winterfell, Alysane retraced her steps, making her way back to the Velvet Dragon. It stood like a beacon in the night, its flickering lights drawing her closer. On her path, she encountered a familiar figure.

"My lady" Alysane called out, her voice warm and welcoming. "What brings you out this late evening, my dear?"

Sansa smiled, a mixture of innocence and curiosity. "Lady Alysane, I was simply enjoying a breath of fresh air though I know tis not proper. I always feel safe near the presence of the godswood. Do you not feel the same?"

Alysane's gaze softened, her eyes meeting Sansa's. "I believe it brings a calming presence no matter your beliefs."

Sansa looked up smiling at the women with a surge of confidence "you were at the Godswood tree earlier were you not"

Alysane's gaze returned to the girl "Ahh my lady I hope your not spying at me"

Sansa smiled at the playful tones keeping her eyes on the girl she saw as a women now grown despite their closeness in age. Sansa wait for her mysterious friends answer.

Alysane turned back to look that the flowers who has now blossomed from the Winterfel sun that has now gone down. "I walked through the Godswood slightly lost to be honest, and I talked to a friend of mine" 

Alysane answered with honestly slightly flattered by the girls interested in her. Their conversation carried on, secrets shared like delicate petals falling from a blooming flower.​​ Though Alysane would never truly confide in the young girl, she enjoyed being her confidant to an extent. With a final exchange of words, Alysane bid Sansa farewell, watching as the young Stark girl vanished into the night.

~

Returning to her abode on the top floor of the Velvet Dragon, Alysane sank into the plush comfort of her private quarters. A flickering candle cast flickering shadows upon the walls, as whispers of a royal visit echoed through her thoughts. King Robert Baratheon was to grace Winterfell with his presence after the demise of Lord Aryn, Alysane's web of informants - am idea stolen from another lord- had revealed the impending arrival. Though such things seemed to be in order a feeling of unease yet again creepy into her mind but this time she embraced her unease as intuition. The girl relaxed into the feathered bed with ros by her side. Speaking of nobel gossip she had a slight urge the unease was true to something she could feel such events or that she had simply gone mad. Shrugging the idea off with another sip of her goblet of wine, though she rather Ale she was wine to be a more wealthy looking vice rather than the poor man's Ale.

As she reclined on her bed, her mind spinning with possibilities, Alysane knew that the game was about to unfold. A bastard not mentioned in any prophecy, she held an unyielding belief in her own significance. With cunning and ambition coursing through her veins, she would seize every opportunity to rise above her forsaken status and leave an indelible mark on the realm.

The Velvet Dragon would be her stage, and the game of thrones her performance. The shadows whispered their secrets, and Alysane Rivers, the hidden Targaryen, was ready to dance within their dark embrace.

AN// damm I need a face claim fr