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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Days passed and Visenya waited. She waited for ravens, for good news of the Blacks and of her mother giving birth but nothing came. She went for walks with Lord Stark's mother, a kind and strong woman who was a daughter of Lord Manderley. She married her children's father when she was sixteen and although she didn't explicitly say it, it was clear that their marriage had been a marriage of duty and companionship rather than love and passion. Visenya accepted Arrina's invitations to do needlework together in the afternoons and practice with a bow with Harrin in the evenings.
But Lord Stark kept his distance, shaking his head sullenly at her when she laughed at something Edric said at dinner or let Arrina hold her hand as they walked from the hall. He did not speak with her but he didn't ignore her anymore, he watched her and Visenya knew she couldn't afford to put a foot wrong or he would enjoy it immensely.
She wondered if he ever did anything alone, constantly shadowed by Edric or Ser Darron, Maester Fagan or any number of his men. Even his direwolf seemed to shadow him. Perhaps never finding a moment alone with each other was just what their lives would consist of.
She was wondering about how long she could prolong their engagement when a voice yelling pulled her from her thoughts.
"Your Grace!"
Someone yelled out. Ser Jarrald turned first, hand at the ready by his sword. Although it was clearly unwarranted. It was one of the stable boys, dressed in Winter clothes and clearly panting from his exertions. In his hand, he bore a scroll.
"A raven just arrived!" he panted, looking his Princess in the eye for the first time and becoming nervous "It comes from King's Landing, Your Grace."
Visenya grabbed the message from his hand, noticing the sigil stamp and freezing.
Sea green mixed with red. A sea horse.
"But there are no Velaryons in King's Landing?" she whispered to herself, not sure who could be writing to her.
Her father, Ser Laenor was dead. Her grandsire, Corlys was away fighting in the Stepstones. Her cousins Baela and Rhaena were on Dragonstone with her mother and brothers.
It could only be one.
Visenya ripped the sigil apart, and flattened the short message in her hands.
"Visenya, A new dragon has been hatched – gold.Dragons and Wolves are to be friends from this day forward. Arrangements should swiftly be made."
She could hear Ser Jarrald dismiss the Squire and ask her something. She did not respond.
Rhaenys was in King's Landing and had likely risked her life to send this raven before she hopefully fled.
She crumpled the note in her hand. She did not need to read it again nor try to decipher the message Rhaenys had clearly tried to keep private should it fall into the wrong hands.
