𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 & 𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙚𝙣𝙨, 𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘣 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘬

𝔢𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱 | 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖕𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝖘𝖚𝖗𝖛𝖎𝖛𝖊𝖘

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ＲＨＡＥＮＥ ＷＡＳ ＮＯＴ ＩＭＰＲＥＳＳＥＤ.

While the feast was jovial and enjoyable, the King was sitting amongst the Northerners and making a fool of himself. His wife was sat at the high table, with Lady Stark and Ned, watching in distaste as her husband swapped spit with a servant girl.

The ivory-haired Princess was sat next to Robb, as was expected of her, and she stayed quiet most of the feast, only speaking up when absolutely necessary. She was content listening to Robb talk to Theon, laughing about the brothel girls and fabricated hunting stories.

Theon truly loved his cock, that she was sure of.

When Arya began to act up, flinging food at her sister across the table, it was a welcome distraction. Robb got up to put his little sister to bed, and Rhaene followed.

The further they got from the hall, the quieter the music became. Soon, Rhaene was standing outside of Arya's chamber door, waiting for Robb to get her tucked in.

He emerged, finally, with a small smile on his freshly-shaven face. His warm eyes drank in Rhaene's figure as she leaned against the wall.

"I don't want to go back to the feast," Rhaene confessed softly, "I'd much rather stay as far away from Robert Baratheon as I can get."

Robb offered her his hand. "As you wish, Princess Rhaene."

"What are you up to, Stark?" she narrowed her eyes accusingly at him, having expected him to make her go back.

Robb looked slightly offended. "I'm not up to anything," he defended himself, "I simply wish my lady to be happy."

Rhaene rolled her eyes. "You're drunk," she realized, "you would never agree to me shirking my duties so easily."

"Is it so hard to believe that I want you to feel at peace?" he asked. "I only wish the best for you, Rhaene."

Rhaene looked at him for a long moment. His eyes were genuine, and his expression reminded her of a kicked puppy. He was telling the truth, she realized. "Forgive me," she said, looking down at her boot-clad feet, "I am quick to assume, sometimes."

They sat in silence for a few moments. "Would you like to go riding with me?" he asked her, "I'm sure father wouldn't mind. In fact, I think he would encourage you being as far away from the Lannisters as you can."

Rhaene nodded, a small smile creeping onto her lips.

She followed him to the stables, where she saddled Hūra and he saddled Storm. Soon, they were racing out the gates of Winterfell and into the surrounding woods. It was quiet, the only sound being the thundering hooves and their laughs.

"Lord Stark," she said dramatically, "whatever will your father think? Sneaking off into the night with a young maiden of fifteen."

"Well, we are to be married." Robb grinned over at her. "Though I would not go as far as to take your maidenhood before our wedding night."

Rhaene smirked over at him before swinging her leg off of Hūra, landing on the ground with a dull thump and taking off into the darkness. Her feet cracked sticks and crunched leaves as they hit the forest floor.

Robb cursed to himself, doing the same with his horse and securing the two of them before running off after her. "Rhaene," he called into the dark, "it's dangerous to be out here at night."

He got no response, only a distant wolf howl and the hoot of an owl.

"Rhaene?" he called louder. "Rhaene!" He turned as he heard a branch break, finding her standing right behind him with a mischievous smile on her face. "Seven hells!" he cursed.

"Did I scare you, Lord Stark?" she breathed, her chest heaving from running.

Robb sighed to himself, clenching his jaw. "You could've been hurt," he stated, "why would you run off like that?"

"You were meant to chase me," she laughed, taking a swig from a skin of ale. "Though the Heir of Winterfell was never one for children's games." She backed up a bit, leaning against a huge tree with a sigh.

Robb took the drink from her as she passed it, taking a deep drink and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His eyes shone with something dangerous. "Aye," he said softly, "not one for games." He advanced on her like a shadow.

Rhaene barely had time to say his name before his nose brushed hers, his lips hovering just over her mouth. "Robb," she sighed against him, "please." She didn't know what she was begging for.

"Lady Velaryon! Lord Stark!" guards shouted from atop the wall.

Robb sighed through his nose, resting his forehead against hers. "It seems we are missed," he muttered in disappointment.

"Perhaps we should return," Rhaene suggested softly, removing her hands from their death grip on his forearms. "Your father may suspect something of sinful quality."

Robb's face fell, as if he was hoping she was going to say something different.

≽ ∗ ≼

"Dearest Dany," Rhaene wrote with a sigh, "where do I begin? The man I'm betrothed to is... amazing, for lack of a better word. He's strong and kind, and I would be lying if I said I could not grow to love him.

How are you? It's been months. I only wish to know that you are alive and well, and that Vis is treating you as well as can be expected.

With my love,

Rhae

Fire and Blood."

She placed the letter under Maester Lewin's door, and walked back to her room, unknowing of the shadow that watched her. A shadow with the name of Jaime Lannister.

He knelt down and plucked the sealed scroll off of the ground, opening it and letting his eyes skim across the page.

"Jorrāelagon Dany, skoriot gaomagon nyke rhaenagon? Se vala iksan dīnagon naejot iksis. Vok, syt mijegon hen iā sȳrkta udir. Ziry's kostōba se sȳz, se nyke sagon pirtir lo vestan nyke daor jorrāelagon zirȳla.

Skorkydoso glaesā? Ziry iksos issare naenie hūra. Nyke mērī jaelagon naejot gīmigon bona iksā glaesagon se sȳrī, se bona vis iksis hae sȳz hae kostas sagon.

Lēda ñuha jorrāelagon,Rhae

Perzys Ānogār."

He couldn't even begin to make out the letters. Kissing his teeth, he crumpled up the paper and moved to the nearest torch, lighting it on fire before dropping it to the stone floor and walking off.