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...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Cregan couldn't keep his hands off her. When they finally left the beach, much to Visenya's disappointment they made their way back to Dragonstone where the guards questioned where they had been and told Visenya that her mother was looking for her. Visenya knew that her mother probably wanted to know where she had been and what she had done but Visenya stunk of smoke and seasalt, she didn't want to have another dead-end conversation with them. She wanted to be left alone with her husband.
"Tell my mother that I will come find her after I've changed." she said, over her shoulder and stalking away, her husband left behind to shrug at the guards and wait for them to jump to action.
They clearly weren't used to her orders like he was. The Princess had clearly learned a thing or two about being in charge in Winterfell. Whether or not Cregan did as he was told was a different matter.
He caught up to her quickly, his stride much longer than hers. And when he caught up to her, she was glad when he fell into step beside her and she could feel his warmth and presence. She had missed being so close to him, she'd missed wanting him the way she had before.
At their chamber's door, she paused. Resting her back against the heavy wooden door and tilting her head up at him, she regarded him again and was again thankful that the Gods had seen fit to put them in each other's paths.
His gaze stayed fixed on her, watching her hands go up his chest and loop around the back of his neck until her fingers played with the hair at the nape of his neck and made a shiver go up his spine. She smiled, almost smugly. She liked knowing that he reacted so strongly to her.
"When do we leave?" she asked, wanting only one answer.
Stooping down so that he was nearer to her, always wanting nearer even though no where was near enough unless he was inside of her and she was on top of him.
"We will tell the Prince Daemon and his commanders, we will say goodbye to your brothers and our Queen and we will go." he spoke softly, knowing that the walls had ears.
Visenya felt the tension in her shoulders start to slacken. Back to Moat Cailin. To Ingrid and Lords Cerwyn and Karstark and Northerners. A few months ago, she never could have imagined finding a war camp of Northerners an appealing prospect.
She even missed the cold. The heat of the South, the suffocating humidity on Dragonstone, it felt almost too much now.
"Yes, my Lord." she nodded, a light-hearted smile on her lips that he smirked at.
"Does that please my lady?" his brows raised and his body pressed in closer.
"You should pleasure your lady more often," she whispered back, wanting nothing more than for him to shove through the door and throw her upon the bed.
Something about being back with Ghost, about seeing him go through with the binding ritual, coming to Dragonstone and defending her, sustaining her. Something about being Lady of Winterfell one moment and Princess the next and realising that Lady Stark was her preference every time. It made her want to jump his bones in a way she'd scarcely felt before.
