Visenya Targaryen knew many things to be true. She was Harwin Strong's daughter. She was a Targaryen Princess regardless. And she was not going to marry for love.
With a war looming, Rhaenyra Targaryen must do everything in her power to strengthen h...
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Winterfell was cold. Everybody knew that the North's temperatures were as unforgiving as their people. But Visenya had not experienced cold like this in all her life.
She cut that first evening short after being introduced to many Northmen and their lady wives, to Lord Stark's sisters and brothers who introduced her to Maester Fagan and their Septas. Arrina, Edric and Harrin were much younger than their brother and Lord but they had the same dark eyes and hair. Although it was his sister, Torra who had the same aloof and coldness to her gaze and aura.
Arrina told her of her studies, showed her some of her best needlework and even promised to introduce her to their horses and her favoured horse that was her very own. Harrin asked dozens of questions about Grey Ghost, what the beast ate and drank, how far it could fly and if Visenya had ever been almost eaten or burned alive. Edric, the older of the two was quieter and more pensive however his wicked sense of humour and wit was second to none that Visenya had seen.
Torra stayed at a distance, sitting at the top table alongside her mother and her mother's ladies. Visenya knew better than to stare back but she could feel Torra watching her, perhaps just curious or perhaps waiting for Visenya to do something she could be judged for. But Visenya was quite sure that Torra had been a vote against the alliance of Cregan Stark and the Blacks.
Visenya thought about her family as she lay in bed, trying to rub some warmth into her arms and legs. She thought about the lines that were being drawn, dividing the Greens and the Blacks more harshly than they had ever felt them.
Jace and Luke had always bickered and argued with Aemond and Aegon. They sniped at each other, goaded each other and constantly fought to be the better swordsman or bowman or dragon rider. They always wanted to be the best.
Haelena and Visenya were practically forgotten about as girls. Queen Alicent had always been rather vocal about their education being important but limited to needlework, history and etiquette. Visenya's mother would not allow for her only daughter to be pushed aside and so, Ser Harwin taught her just as he taught her brothers albeit in private when they had the time.
But Ser Harwin was gone. Whatever peace her family had come to for the sake of their King and Grandsire had vanished after their Grandsire had gone to bed and Aemond insinuated Visenya and her brothers were bastards.
Whatever was happening in King's Landing and Dragonstone now, Visenya didn't know. She just hoped any raven that was sent, came swiftly and brought only good news.
It was a foolish wish, a child's wish. But alone, curled in on herself in bed in a frozen land where no one had vowed to do anything but keep her alive so she could be wedded and bedded, Visenya felt more vulnerable than she ever had. And she would not stand for it.
Lying still was not helping her frozen bones, so she slid from under the mountain of blankets she had asked for and pulled the lid of her trunk open. She shoved aside the red dress that immediately caught her eye, she didn't want to lay eyes on her wedding dress until she was forced to, no matter how lovely it had been made.
