Visenya Targaryen, now Lady Stark, thought her journey was done when her husband took his final breath. Yet, a single step into the godswood sends her into a new world entirely-Middle-earth. With her youth restored and no one to trust, Visenya must...
The air in Greenwood (or Mirkwood as she had heard some elves whisper when they thought no one was listening) had a life of its own. Visenya could feel it in the way the trees whispered their secrets to the wind, in the way the earth beneath her feet seemed to hum with ancient power. She wandered the fortress with a cautious curiosity, still unsure of her place here, but too fascinated to remain locked away in her quarters.
It had been a few weeks since Thranduil had spared her from imprisonment. She had taken the time to acclimate to her surroundings, if only to soothe her racing mind. Her thoughts often wandered back to Winterfell, to Cregan and her children, but this world was so vastly different that she found herself easily distracted by its beauty and mystery.
The Green Wood fortress was an intricate marvel, its halls carved from living trees, the walls glistening with the magic of the Elves. Every corner held a piece of history she couldn't begin to comprehend, yet she longed to understand.
The most surprising thing of all had been Legolas.
At first, he had been standoffish, keeping his distance like the others. But she had caught his eyes lingering on her more than once, the same wariness his father had shown. He was cautious, but not unkind. She'd begun to notice the subtleties in his behavior—the quiet way he observed the world around him, the understated humor that surfaced in small gestures or fleeting comments.
He reminded her of Jace.
The thought had startled her when it first crept into her mind. Jacaerys had always been her quiet, thoughtful nephew (that felt more like a younger brother), bearing the weight of expectations far heavier than anyone deserved. She had watched him struggle under the responsibilities placed on his shoulders, the pressure of being Rhaenyra's eldest son and heir. And yet, despite it all, he had managed to find joy, to find humor, even in the darkest of times.
Legolas was much the same, she realized. The Greenwood prince carried the expectations of his people with grace, but beneath that, there was something more—a depth of feeling he kept hidden behind his calm exterior.
They had begun talking more in recent days. It was innocent enough at first—small comments during walks, brief exchanges when their paths crossed in the halls. But slowly, over time, the walls between them had begun to lower. Visenya found herself laughing at his dry wit, and she caught the faintest hints of a smile on his lips whenever she did.
One afternoon, as they strolled through the winding pathways of the fortress, she turned to him with a soft smile. "You remind me of someone," she said, her voice quiet as they passed a tall tree with roots that twisted like ancient knots.
Legolas glanced at her, his curiosity piqued. "Oh?"
"My nephew. Jacaerys." She hesitated, her mind drifting back to a time long gone. "He was quiet, like you. Reserved. But with a humor that caught you by surprise."
Legolas's eyes softened, though he said nothing. He had long been used to the expectations placed upon him as the prince of Greenwood, the weight of his lineage pressing down on him, but her words—her understanding—felt strangely comforting.
"And you?" he asked after a moment, his voice careful. "Were you also quiet and reserved?"
Visenya let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. "No. I was always... different. Stubborn, headstrong. I didn't know how to stay silent when I had something to say." She paused, her expression growing more serious. "But I know what it feels like, to be watched, to have expectations weighing on you."
He looked at her then, truly looked at her, as if seeing her for the first time. "I suppose you would."
Their conversation shifted after that. Legolas began to open up, though slowly, cautiously. There was still a wariness in his gaze when she mentioned certain things—dragons, Westeros, her life before this strange land—but he no longer held her at arm's length.
In time, a quiet friendship began to blossom between them, one built on mutual respect and shared understanding. They were both tied to worlds that demanded more from them than anyone should have to give, and in each other, they found a companion who understood that burden.
As the days passed, Legolas had even begun to bring her books—histories of Middle-earth, stories of Elven lore. He had seen her hunger for knowledge, her desire to learn more about this world she had found herself in, and though he didn't fully trust her yet, he seemed to recognize the importance of helping her understand where she now stood.
It was late one evening when she sat in the library, surrounded by the books Legolas had given her. The flickering candlelight cast soft shadows across the room, the pages of the ancient tomes glowing under the warm light. She had spent hours reading, her mind absorbing the stories of Elven kings and lost realms, of wars fought long before she was born.
She was lost in thought, her fingers trailing over the delicate script of one of the books, when the sound of footsteps broke through the silence.
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Visenya looked up, her brow furrowing as an old man with a grey cloak stepped into the room. He moved with a purpose, his eyes sharp beneath his weathered brows, though there was an air of mystery about him.
The man's gaze fell on her, and for a moment, he simply stood there, as if evaluating her. Then, he spoke, his voice deep and filled with a knowing wisdom.
"You," he said, his tone carrying an odd mixture of amusement and curiosity. "You are far from home."
Visenya blinked, surprised by the statement, though she nodded slowly. "You could say that."
The old man stepped closer, his eyes never leaving hers. "The question is... do you know why?"
The weight of his words hung in the air, and Visenya felt a chill run down her spine. She didn't know this man, but something about him felt... ancient, as if he carried with him the knowledge of worlds she had yet to even imagine.
Before she could respond, the man gave her a small, knowing smile. "All will be revealed in time, dragon-rider. But for now... rest."
And with that, he turned and walked away, leaving Visenya staring after him, her mind racing with questions she didn't yet have the answers to.
