𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐲𝐯𝐞

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The dragons had kept coming back, confined to Gen's dreams, but near every night now - but this night was different. 

Gen always took form as a dragon of her own in dreams. She'd never seen a dragon in life before, but somehow, she'd grown to know how it felt to be one. The feeling of fire in her belly was like none other. It was no pain, but a heated warmth that spread throughout her scaled body. She could feel where it concentrated, just below the chest of the beast. Gen was smaller than the other dragons at the keep, though she did not know where she was. The great castle loomed over rock and a gloomy beach, with dragons carved of stone towering in front of the castle's doors, as if they were on guard. A rainbow of dragons flitted about the skies, all different sizes, and some of different shape - longer necks or bigger feet, small details unique to each one. 

But here as she perched on the castle walls, observing the waves as they crashed against the pale, gravelly sand, a bird came to perch next to her. Gen flapped her wings and shook as mightily as she could, but the bird appeared unfazed. Peculiar, Gen thought, as she watched the light shine off of the bird's midnight feathers. Its profile revealed a small, sleek head and a long, narrow beak. A raven. Gen huffed, making a chittering sound as she did. The raven finally turned toward her. Gen froze. The warmth of the dragonfire seemed to escape her as she locked eyes with the third smaller eye nestled in the top of the raven's face. It called out to her, a scratchy cry from the raven's throat. 

Gen woke up sweating. She could not find sleep after that, instead lying awake. A three-eyed raven. She'd never seen one of those in life, but her dreams felt so real that she remained unsettled by the bird's unprecedented appearance in her slumber. The hours felt so long as they were days, but eventually the sun crept up and shone its rays into the single window in the family's chambers. Then, a pounding on the door, almost as if on cue with the sunrise. 

"Kingsguard," a hoarse woman's voice yelled. "Open."

Gen's father awoke near instantly and immediately sprung from the bed, rushing to cover himself in a linen robe before prying open the door. When it finally swung open, he was breathless as he stared up at the giant woman who looked down on him. Her face was sharp in features, and serious, a line furrowing the middle of her brow and the top of her forehead. She did not look as if she laughed often. 

"Ser Brienne," her father said, hasty with his words. "A fine day, isn't it?"

Brienne of Tarth's eyes flickered behind his shoulder to meet Gen's eyes. Rowana was sitting up now, too, and pulled Gen close to her in silence. The twins stirred but did not wake up as Gen's mother whispered sweet things into their hair and twirled it around her fingers. 

"Indeed," said the knight shortly, glancing back at Gen's father. "I must escort your daughter to the King."

Gen's father turned, gesturing to Rowana to come forward. Rowana began to rise and make for her robe, but the knight's words cut through the room. "Not her. The little lady."

Rowana's gaze shot to Gen, who glanced fervently at her, before turning to Brienne with a nervous stare. Brienne's face softened as she made eye contact with Genevyve, before gently saying, "There is no trouble, little one. The King has extended an invitation for you to break fast with him. You're to be the future Princess consort's handmaiden, I hear."

Gen's father gave an impatient sigh. "Up, Genevyve, you heard the knight. We would not turn away an invitation from the King."

Brienne's tone became firm again as she straightened her posture and stared down at him with her piercing gaze. "The King was clear that it was to be her, only."

Unsettled, the cook turned back and looked at Gen. She rose slowly, glancing at Rowana as she did. Rowana nodded slightly, her face tinged by a shadow, as if she knew something the others didn't. "Go," she whispered. "This is what I've been preparing you for."

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