The Forgotten Visenya (HOTD)(GOT)(Cregan Stark)

Red Leaves and Thoughts of Leaving

The room was dimly lit, the pale light from the snow-covered world outside casting a cold glow through the frost-covered windows. Visenya sat on the edge of the bed, the fire in the hearth barely offering any warmth against the biting chill that seemed to seep into her bones. Her body was still stiff, her muscles aching from the struggle of the night before. The assassin's blade had left her with only one visible scar, a thin line across her cheek, but the memory of the flames, the smoke, and the suffocating heat still clung to her skin like a phantom.

Cregan stood near the doorway, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword as he watched the maesters prepare for their examinations. His face was etched with concern, his eyes dark and focused on her. She could feel the weight of his gaze, the protective intensity that had only grown stronger since the fire. It had been his idea to call for the maesters, to make sure she was truly unharmed, but Visenya hated the way they hovered over her, poking and prodding as if she were a puzzle to be solved.

"She was in the heart of the fire, yet she bears only this scar," Maester Aldric muttered as he traced his finger along the mark on her cheek. "It defies reason."

"Reason or not, she survived," Cregan said firmly, his voice tense. "I want to know why."Visenya resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "I'm fine, truly. There's no need to—"

"We have to be certain, my lady," Aldric interrupted, his voice softer, but insistent. "The fire could have caused damage we cannot see with our eyes alone."

Cregan took a step closer, his presence reassuring despite his frustration. "Is this necessary?"The maester exchanged a glance with his colleague, Maester Galen, before speaking. "We believe there may be more to this, Lord Stark. Targaryens are known for their unique bond with dragons, but this... this immunity to fire is rare, even among your bloodline."

Visenya tightened her grip on the edge of the bed. She had heard the same stories, the legends of her ancestors who had been born of fire. But she had never thought of herself as anything more than a warrior, someone shaped by battle, not by myths.

"What do you suggest?" Cregan asked, his voice low and full of barely restrained impatience."We would like to conduct a few more tests," Galen said cautiously. "There may be something in her blood that we've yet to understand. It could help us—"

"No," Visenya interrupted sharply, her tone leaving no room for argument. "I'm not some specimen for your studies."

Cregan looked ready to argue, but Visenya caught his gaze and shook her head. "It's not necessary."

The room fell silent, the tension hanging thick in the air. After a long pause, Cregan sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "Fine. I'll give you a moment, but I'll return soon." His eyes lingered on her, concern etched in every line of his face. "Make sure she's well."

The maesters nodded, and Cregan reluctantly left the room, the door closing softly behind him.As soon as he was gone, the maesters exchanged a look, and Galen cleared his throat. "Now that Lord Stark is not present, there is something else we need to discuss with you, Princess."Visenya narrowed her eyes, her guard immediately rising. "What is it?"