"The Princess Aemma and the Prince Jacaerys Velaryon!"
Aemmas eyes ventured the Winterfell yards, allowing the crisp north air to gently pierce her blood. She took her time to appreciate the details of the yard. The condensation dripping from the frozen handrails, the crow cadavers hanging from the walls. The soft glow that shone through the windows to what she assumed was Winterfell Great Hall.
That was until Aemmas violet eyes clashed against a pair of the deepest of dark brown eyes.
Beautiful was an understatement.
The Lord Cregan Stark now stood before her. He wore a cross-armoured tunic with a dark cloak covering his shoulders. Broad shoulders. His hair seemed messy yet somehow tamed, with the sides shaved.
Her eyes widened as she realised all the people gathered in the yard were patiently waiting for her, while she stood blatantly assessing the attractiveness of their Lord. With blood rising beneath her cheeks, she took a painfully rushed step forward. Hasty to swallow the thick lump of humiliation.
"My Lord, I thank you for kindness and hospitality towards my brother and I," Aemma spoke, seemingly losing the ability to break her eyes from his.
"You are most welcome, Princess." His voice was unlike any she had heard. He reached for hand, his eyes never wavering from hers. Aemma chose to ignore the flame that licked up her skin as his hands made contact with hers.
Placing a delicate kiss to her knuckles, only dragging his eyes from hers at the last moment. Aemma felt heat began to warm her veins, her heart beating dangerously fast. Though Aemma could not savour the moment, as voice began from beside Lord Stark.
"Mayhaps The Princess and Prince may wish to visit their chambers. The flight from Dragonstone seems like a tiresone one." A boy interjected, brown curls framing his forehead, eyes all-to similar to Lord beside him. "My Princess" he started, taking her hand to place a chaste kiss on the back of her hand.
She felt no difference. Much unlike Lord Starks caress of a kiss, that had her cheeks a flustered shade of red.
"My Princess, this is my brother. Rickon Stark." His eyes darting towards his brother, giving Aemma a chance to breathe since being in his presence.
"Of course, it is with great pleasure to meet the both of you, I must thank you again." Aemma had been forced to recite such words from the moment she was literate. Always to appease which ever Lord or Lady that stood before her.
"This will be your handmaiden, Princess, Sara." A woman, close to Aemmas own age stepped forward, ebony locks covered her shoulders as night does the sky.Though it was the eyes that were peculiar.
"My Princess, if you would follow me."
Aemma made quick work for bed the moment her -who she deemed lovely- handmaiden had left. Sara had insisted on seeking more dresses more suitable to the norths drastic weathers. It was only a few moments later that Aemma was clothed in a fur-adorned clown above a silk nightgown and beneath the thickest of furs. Resting her debilitated body.
˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.
"Mother will be disappointed to know this tour was proven to be useless" Aemma sighed with a breathe of resignation of her mothers dissatisfaction.
"Not one man suitable. Perhaps you may have been too...harsh?" Baela tried. The last destination of the tour being Driftmark and then she could return to her family and her dragon. Atleast Baela warded for her grandmother Rhaenys. That way Aemma had actual enjoyable company.
"They only care for my Valyrian blood or the throne. Most like both." The two princess walked along the waters edge, on the uneven stone path. The wind lazily dragged by Aemma, flowing gently through her very silver hair.
"Mayhaps. Or you do not bother to consider any of them because..." Baela's voice was drowned out by the rapidly growing sound of the waves crashing against one another. The air slowly turning ominous.
It was only in the periphery of Aemmas vision did something catch her attention. A tomb. Almost identical to the Lady Laena's. Baelas own mother. Lay on the same rock as it had all those years ago.
Aemmas heart tripped over itself. Beating against her ribs. A droplet of sweat danced down her spine, sea salt prickling her tongue.
"Do you see that?" Aemma murmured, finger raised pointing directly at the tomb, though now that she concentrated her eyes directly onto the tomb it seemed... burnt?
"See what, Aems?"
She did not see it. Just like her mother never heard Cannibals cries.
That was the first occasion something happened like a dream occurring while she was still conscious. Awake. A sick feeling slithered it's way around her stomach.
It was the only time she felt control. When she was not lost in her sleep. Her mind had been corroded while she slept. Unable to fight it. And now?
Was she losing her strength?
It was only after a resounding knock was echoed from her door, that Aemma was roused from her dreams.
˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.
Authors Note ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི
I am SOOO sorry for no chapters recently but now a new chapter will be out every week!! Maybe more...
but I have HATED the last few chapters, so that's why I kinda disappeared BUTTT now we can finally meet Cregan and get a move onnnn.
I am sooo exciteddd for the next chapter because some people may recognise a lil scene if you read the 'A Dragons Heir' chapter.🤭
By the way at the moment I am envisioning Sihtric from season 3 of the last kingdom and as the story progresses I think his hair will change like the show. (Iykyk😍) but you can envision whoever you want really!
And 8000 READSSSSS. Are you kidding meeeee??
I am sooo shocked and happy its just like crazy and unfathomable in my mind. 😝
Lots of Love🤍
YOU ARE READING
𝐀 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧'𝐬 𝐇𝐞𝐢𝐫 ┊ 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐤
Fanfiction"Madness and greatness are two sides of the same coin. Every time a new Targaryen is born, the gods toss the coin in the air and the world holds its breath to see how it will land." - George R.R Martin.
