Vhaenessa Targaryen

17

The Wall was cold.

It was to be expected with all the snow and ice surrounding it.

The dragons landed close as they could to the gates of Castle Black that did not really resemble a castle of any kind.

It was more like a small colony of buildings banded together against a very tall wall of ice and stone.

They dismounted, feeling stiff and cold, leaving the dragons just out of sight of the castle. Not that out of sight meant that the men of the Night's Watch hadn't seen them arrive.

Vhaenessa wondered what they thought and felt when they saw them; creatures out of legend alive again for the first time in many, many years.

Men in all black met them halfway as they walked the last bit of stretch to the gates.

One of them were Ser Alliser Thorne, a man who had been leal to her family and found himself shipped of to the Wall for it.

He wore a sneer on his lips that made Vhaenessa hold Aemon tighter to her chest than necessary.

He most likely thought of her as a traitor to her own blood. He is quite wrong.

She was as much a victim of it all as he. Though, she had been the innocent and he had fought in the Rebellion.

"Princess," a man she didn't recognize, bowed to her, his face a stoic mask, yet she could see something in his eyes that told her that he did not mean to mock her by using her former title.

Before she can say something back to him, Brandon pushed past her to embrace none other than Benjen Stark.

"Old Gods be good, Ben, you're all grown up," he said mournfully.

Vhaenessa couldn't blame him for being mournful. He had missed so much of his family's life. Much like she would now with her other children. It made her heart ache just to think about it.

"Princess."

She looked towards the man who had spoken before.

"Lord Commander Mormont welcomes you to Castle Black."

"Thank you, Ser...uh.."

"Arman Darry. My brothers was Ser Jonothor Darry of the former king's kingsguard and Ser Willem Darry the master-at-arms."

Vhaenessa swallowed. Ser Jonothor had died in the Rebellion. Good riddance. He was a right bastard and not of the born-out-of-wedlock type.

He was complacent in the murder of Rickard Stark and the fake Brandon Stark.

Of course, he obeyed orders, but she remembered how utterly viciously he delighted in hurting innocents. It made her sick.

Ser Willem had fled to Essos with Viserys and the newborn Daenerys. She don't know if he still lives.

"Why are you here, Ser Darry?" she asked, curious to know.

"Loyalty, Princess, like most of us who fought for your family,"Ser Alliser spoke up pointedly, his voice as harsh as the cold of the Wall.

Vhaenessa steadied herself. She wasn't going to snap at the man. She wasn't.

He had been loyal to her family and for that she can try and not cause trouble for herself and her children.

"Vhaenessa."

She looked from Sers Arman and Alliser to Benjen.

She walked closer to him, accepting his gentle hug.

"Ned sent word about the King. Does he really think that you hired someone to kill his Hand?"

She nodded. "Yes, apparently I have nothing better to do with my time other than sending assassins after his small council."