LAENYS VELARYON, Lady of the Tides, princess of Dragonstone, youngest daughter of Corlys Velaryon-Lord of the Tides-and Rhaenys Targaryen-the Queen Who Never Was.
No one in all the realms believed that Rhaenys was with child when she announced it pu...
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The travel to Winterfell was long, it took nearly an entire morrow before the green grass of summer was covered with a blanket of snow. Laenys had never been used to the cold, she felt accustomed to the feeling of fire, the feeling of warmth against her skin. However, she could debate that the chill of the North was similar to the chill in her heart.
She had heard from many who were friends with Lord Cregan, that he had been occupied at the wall now more than ever. He said, "Death lingers beyond these walls. Winter is coming,"
The cold wind of the North bit at her skin as Laenys Velaryon soared above the snow-covered landscape on the back of her dragon, Vermithor. The icy Wall loomed ahead, a colossal barrier separating the known world from the wild unknown. The men stationed below looked up, watching a dragon, practically the size of a city swarmed above them. A man with salt and pepper hair screamed out, "DRAGONNN!", before beginning to run away. The men of the Night's Watch either watched with wonder or ran away practically pissing their pants.
As she descended, the men of the Night's Watch scattered below, their shouts and alarmed movements a testament to the awe and fear a dragon inspired.
One of the men who watched carefully was Lord Cregan Stark, his body dressed in black fur and leather. His once short and half-shaven hair had grown out to his shoulders, it was half pinned up with silver rings tucked into the brunette locks. He seemed to have not aged much, however, you could tell his youthful body had hardened from the many wars and training. He was 9 and 20, around seven years older than Princess Laenys.
Lord Cregan Stark stood on the ramparts, his eyes fixed on the descending dragon. His body was tense, frozen in a mix of anticipation and dread. He hadn't seen a dragon this close since his youth, and certainly not one ridden by someone he once knew so intimately. The moment Vermithor landed, the ground beneath them seemed to tremble. Vermithor settled atop the Wall, the dragon's massive form causing the ice to groan and creak beneath his weight.
He was trying to piece together who could possibly be riding the Old King Jaehaerys' dragon, he could see tufts of curly hair blowing against the icy winds. His eyes widened, and his body moved before his mind could form a second thought. He pushed through the crowd of men who shouted and yelled after him, calling him fucking stupid for approaching a dragon if he did not know who was riding it.
But Cregan knew, oh he knew.
He saw Laenys atop Vermithor before she began climbing down the robes attached to him. She jumped down onto the ice, her feet caused the ice to crack slightly. Her eyes watched as Cregan squeezed his way through the crowd, she almost did not believe it was him. He looked different, you could almost miss him in a room full of northerners.
Cregan finally broke free from the crowd before he ended up seven feet from her, which caused him to stop in his tracks. He halted abruptly, taking in the sight of the woman he had once hoped to marry, now a shadow of her former self. His eyes seemed to glisten at the sight of her, but he could not help but notice the condition she arrived in. Her footsteps seemed weak when she climbed from Vermithor, and as she could stand before him her eyes did not hold any light in them. Even though the color of her eyes drew him in, it felt that he had been drawn into a void. Her eyes, once bright with laughter and life, were now clouded with grief.
