Weeks after Otto was dismissed, and Rhaenyra and Torrhen's betrothal was almost set in stone, they journeyed to Winterfell.
Due to the worsening weather and heavy snow that was falling upon the North, it was decided it would be better to first sail to White Harbour, and make the short journey to Winterfell from there.
Torrhen stood with Rhaenyra on the boat, overlooking the city in the horizon. White Harbour was the only cities in the North, thus it was quite populated. Torrhen had been a few times, with Aunt Gilliane and Uncle Rickon. Gilliane had brought him there for his nameday, and Rickon had bought him an axe from a skilled blacksmith.
"Tell me again." Rhaenyra says, "What we are to expect on this, cold, cold, journey?"
Torrhen laughed with a smile. "Is the Princess not content, in the North's climate?"
Rhaenyra shivered slightly under her coat, and the burrowed fur cloak she had taken from Torrhen. "No wonder you're all so miserable. I am shocked nobody on this ship has frozen to ice yet."
Torrhen hummed, "Well, first we will dock at White Harbour. It's the only city in the North, so we may rest for a bit there. Then, it is a small day's ride to Winterfell. Once there, we will sit down with my father, discuss terms, and all will be done."
Rhaenyra sighs, tucking the furred cloak further around her. "I cannot wait for this to be done."
"Nor can I." Torrhen replied, flashing Rhaenyra a smile.
Rhaenyra returned it. Her hand drifted to his, and he interlocked their fingers.
Frost, scared of being on the water, ran up to Torrhen and Rhaenyra, leaning into their sides, and whimpering any time the boat rocked. He seemed to grow more and more with the passing weeks, almost the size of a full grown hound.
"You great, whimpering, beast." Torrhen said, fondly. Scratching behind his ears to calm him down. Rhaenyra laughed, also running a hand through the wolf's fur.
The sound of retching drew their attention, seeing Viserys lent over the side of the boat, puking his dinner up. Lyonel Strong stood with him, the new Hand appointed after Otto. Torrhen's gaze also caught that of a certain Kings Guard, who seemed to be glaring at him more and more over the passing days. Torrhen ignored it, having no patience for Cole or his jealousy.
Torrhen saw Rhaenyra's worried look, and sighed. He soothingly rubbed the skin of her knuckles, and she smiled tightly at him. The ship rocked slightly, Torrhen's hands catching Rhaenyra as she stumbles. Frost gave a whimpering yelp, practically hiding behind Torrhen's legs now, as if that would save him from the waves.
He looks over the sea, and a small smile lights his face.
"We're here."
....
They docked at White Harbour, several heads bowing to the King as he passed. Viserys lightly stumbled on his feat, his fatigue and sickness visible.
"Torrhen, tell me." Viserys rasped, "Would it be better to rest here for a short while, or continue on our journey?"
Torrhen sighed, adjusting his cloak. "The roads will be... tough, this time of year, Your Grace. Winter is nearly upon us, and we have already made such a long part of our journey. The men are tired, as I am sure you are, Your Grace." He spoke carefully.
Viserys nods, conceding Torrhen's point.
"There is an inn halfway in the city." Torrhen looks over his shoulder to the bustling streets. "It is clean. Comfortable. We could take a short rest there and continue whenever you are ready."
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Monsters of The North || Rhaenyra Targaryen
FanfictionTorrhen Stark, the king-wolf. Nephew of Rickon Stark. Husband and King-consort to Queen, Rhaenyra Targaryen. 'The king who never knelt'.