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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When morning broke, Visenya was already awake. Her lord-husband was still fast asleep. He had stayed awake for the better part of the last week watching over her and letting her rest, she knew he was in need of a proper rest. One that he seemed to be getting in her bed chambers on Dragonstone.
A strange thought. She'd never had a man in her bed there. It would have been much too risky and when she'd been with men before him, it was never a romantic endeavour with terms of endearment and flowers. It was something else, something rather empty and impersonal. Something she had never had with Cregan thankfully.
He slept behind her, one arm stretched out under her and the other wrapped around her middle, banding across her chest so that his hand held her shoulder and his chin rested in the crook of her neck.
On their way from the Riverlands to Dragonstone they had been sleeping on roll out mats beside small campfires. There was no time for pitching tents or making camps with beds and privacy. Lord Umber and Ser Jarrald had been sleeping mere feet away from her and although she trusted them with her life, it wouldn't have felt right to be sidling in next to Cregan. She had slept next to him, often pulled a bit closer by him when she couldn't get comfortable and he put her head against the solid middle part of his thigh. She'd feel his hand ghost over her back while she tried to sleep, just over and back.
Now she did the same for him, her fingertips back and forth over his forearm the way she did when they were drifting off. His deep and steady breaths didn't change. Not even when she slipped out from under his grasp and dressed.
Visenya had brought nothing with her. Cregan had brought some of her things from Moat Cailin but she could not find them and what she had left behind on Dragonstone was not even worth mentioning. The amount she had been eating since Cregan had found her and helped in gaining back what weight she had lost but she had changed in Winterfell. Her hips seemed rounder and fuller, her legs stronger, her shoulders too.
When Visenya tried on a dress she had often wore before marrying Cregan, the seams wouldn't even touch. A knock on the door from a lady's maid brought a dress from her mother. A red dress. With stitching reminiscent of flames on the bodice. How Targaryen.
Visenya didn't like it but she had nothing else so with her wolf pin attached, she made do.
Jace was easily found in the mornings. After breaking his fast he spent a few hours practicing his High Valyrian and studying the histories, battles, strategy, and stories. Anything and everything he could one day need as King.
He was born to be a King. And mere minutes later, Visenya was born. In her youth, she had often wondered for what.
"You're getting much better than me"
Visenya said as she descended the stairs, her accent a little rusty.
Jace turned from where he paced. He nodded at her in greeting.
