The Price of Revenge

Winterfell

A flash of lightning lit up the Red Temple of Volantis, casting dark shadows on the walls, a thickness growing in the air. The summer storms had arrived, something that brought Melisandre comfort. It was the first sign of normality she had felt in the past years. It brought her hope that the Lord of Light would forgive the sins of men. A sharp cry had her turning away from the storm brewing, forcing a smile on her face as her eyes connected with the tearful babe before her. She reached into the child's cot, lifting the small girl into her arms, in an attempt to abate her cries. The infant barely cried after her birth, but in the days since she was stolen away from King's Landing, she seemed to do little else.  

"Shall I tell you the story once again, Little One?" Melisandre murmured, as bright blue eyes stared up at her. 

"Many years ago, thousands of miles away, a promise was made. One that was upheld for over one hundred and fifty years, without question. The youngest child of the Targaryen's was promised to the Lord of Light and sent to this very Temple at the beginning of winter. That was until the reign of Aerys II Targaryen..." Melisandre trailed off, as the babe's cries grew louder, as they always did at that part of the tale. 

"He was a fearful man, driven mad by what I could not say, but his hysteria stirred at the thought of his heirs. His sister-wife Rhaella, was always mindful of her duties and did her best to bestow children upon the King, but alas, many died too young. Only Prince Rhaegar and Prince Viserys made it through infancy. The King grew obsessive in his need to create more heirs...thus, he turned toward his younger sister, Elaena. To keep his bloodline pure. And then, you were born. Healthy, strong...with hair as dark as night" Melisandre sighed, rubbing her hand over the babe's thick hair. 

"A bastard. The King believed you to be his child, though I could never be sure. There were rumours Elaena had taken others to her bed, but King Aerys had those rumours crushed, along with the tongues of anyone who would speak them. But there was worse to come. You had been promised to the Lord of Light while you were still in your mother's stomach...but now that the King could see you living and breathing, he refused. He turned his back on the promise that his ancestors had made. The Targaryen's of late rarely believed in R'hllor, but had still been too fearful to refuse the tradition. The Mad King believed he knew better. And so, you were kept in the Red Keep. It was only a matter of days before Robert's Rebellion began" Melisandre continued, as the cries finally ceased. 

"I came to your mother, having seen Robert's victory in the flames. I begged her to return you to us...and she did. I stole you away from that place. But your mother was not so lucky. One of her most trusted handmaidens had bestowed her own infant daughter upon the Princess in the weeks before the sack of King's Landing. Aerys was slain by the Kingslayer. And Robert was crowned King. And Elaena Targaryen and the false babe she carried with her, were burnt alive in the Great Hall, on the new King's command. He said it would be what Aerys would want after all" Melisandre spat out, as thunder echoed over her head. 

"But...now, you have returned to us. I beg for the Lord's mercy, day and night, though I do not think it is enough. The Long Night is approaching, and you, Little One, are the last known Targaryen. The Prince or Princess that was promised" Melisandre exclaimed, as the infant's eyes slowly fluttered shut. 

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298 AC 

Kaela watched with amusement as Arya's eyes lit up, a look of wonder flashing over her features. She was a strange child, but Kaela was fond of her, nonetheless. If Lord Stark allowed her, his youngest daughter could be a formidable warrior one day. Kaela's eyes flickered down to the object of Arya's wonderment, holding out the Valyrian steel dagger for her to take a better look.