'When you play the Game of Thrones,
You win.
Or you die.
There is no middle ground.'
In which the Princess of the Storm is spun into a whirlwind of chaotic events, all beginning with a single choice to choose Lord Eddard Stark as the new Hang to the...
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VALENCIA LAID SOUNDLESSLY ON JON SNOW'S CHEST. His arm around her back gathering her into his side, her hair sprawled out along his shoulder and chest, their eyes closed as their hands held one another on Jon's chest. Valencia listened to Jon's heart, the rhythmic beat reminding her that the man she was surely falling in love with was holding her. The castle was almost abandoned, Ned Stark and Robert Baratheon had taken many men on a hunting trip, the women were huddled inside, keeping busy and keeping warm, leaving most of the Keep quiet and abandoned; it made it much easier for Jon to sneak from his side of the Keep to Valencia's. Wanting total privacy, and time with Jon, the princess She had dismissed Lilith, desperate for no interruption whatsoever.
The announcement of her betrothal had bugged Valencia for days, as well as her father's warning. She had not spoken with her father or Robb, and was purposely avoiding them, not wanting to accidentally bump into them and be pulled into an awkward conversation, or one that would turn into a screaming match. She wanted to scream at her father to call the engagement off, and tell him that she belonged with Jon, and only Jon. She loved him, she really did, and now, it was going to be taken away from her. It was Jon she wished to marry one day, not his half-brother. She was willing to give the throne up for him, not Robb. It was Jon that she wanted to show the world to. And now, she was faced with the cruelty to tell him that she was to marry his brother and end things between them on account of her fathers warning. She promised herself that she would tell him when she was ready, and it had already been a week since the announcement, and each time she saw him her insides became twisted. But even still, she selfishly wanted as much time as she could with him before he would discover the truth.
So, in the few weeks that were leading up to her scheduled wedding, Valencia wanted to be calm with Jon, even if it was just for a moment.
She lay on his warm chest, bound in boiled leather with her finger playing with the cords of the doublet. They were in her room, huddling from the cold while the fire died next to them.
Valencia could be like this forever, just herself and her loving Jon.
"Why do you think the Gods are cruel?" She asked, it was a common topic among many citizens of Westeros. The Seven Gods were very cruel, and almost torturous, they could be kind and give strength, but they could give pain and death. And her current bump in the road seemed to be almost like a punishment from the gods.
Jon thought for a moment before answering. "Perhaps it is a punishment?" Valencia pursed her lips listening to him, "a punishment for the wrongs our ancestors have done, or it is to make us stronger, more self-aware?" He shrugged. Valencia scooted closer to him, a large waft of cold air drifting into the room. She hugged her dress closer to her, the shawl around her shoulders not doing much, the fire next to them barely burning.
"Maybe," she shrugged. "My father does not believe in the Gods. He thinks it's foolish nonsense that someone made up so we obeyed their laws since we did not follow the rules of man."
