𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 & 𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙚𝙣𝙨, 𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘣 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘬

𝔱𝔢𝔫 | 𝖇𝖊𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖌𝖔𝖉𝖘

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ＲＨＡＥＮＥ＇Ｓ ＨＡＮＤＳ ＳＨＯＯＫ as she pinned her hair back. Her wedding was tomorrow. It was meant to be much later, but the King had apparently told Ned Stark to 'get the damned thing over with' because he wanted to head back South.

She wasn't allowed to see Robb, of course, to ask his opinion on it - or even to ask him if he was ready. She thought she was, until the entire thing was sprung on her.

Now, she wasn't so sure.

As her hair slid out of its clip, effectively ruining her hairstyle, she threw it across the room in frustration. It hit beside the door just as it opened, revealing Maekar.

"I hear of you picking up a bow again, and now you're trying to assassinate your own brother with a hair accessory?" Maekar sighed jokingly, shaking his head. He bent down and picked up the clip, examining it between his pale fingers.

"I am not in the mood for humor," Rhaene said stiffly, leaning onto her vanity and putting her head in her hands. "The Lannisters are in my home, the Baratheons sit at the same tables that I do, eat the same food!" She abruptly stood, whirling around. "And now they are to attend my wedding, and bear witness to something that should be between Robb and I."

"Sit down," Maekar sighed, making his way over to her and slipping his gloves off. When she did, he slipped his hands through her silky curls and began to braid her hair back. "Tomorrow you will be married to Lord Stark, and after that, the Lannisters cannot touch you without igniting a war."

Rhaene ground her porcelain teeth together. "And what of before? I have no personal guard with me, no one to protect me while I sleep." She looked around the room. "No weapons, nothing." She eyed her brother in the mirror, watching him meticulously braid her tresses.

"If they touch you, I will kill every last Lannister that draws breath," Maekar promised calmly, "I will burn them with wildfire as our grandfather did before us."

Rhaene sighed to herself. "Grandfather was mad, Maekar."

"He was a Targaryen," Maekar corrected, "he was a dragon."

Soon, Rhaene was in bed. Her thoughts plagued her mind, and she oft found herself staring into the hearth. Maekar sat in the chair beside it, watching the flames with a perplexed expression.

"Fire and blood," she heard him whispering, "fire and blood."

≽ ∗ ≼»

Robb stood nervously, his thick furs keeping him safe from the softly blowing wind. His hands, that were shaking, were clasped together at his hips.

There was a deathly silence over the crowd of people gathered in rows alongside the aisle. No one spoke a word, not even the normally-boisterous royal family.

Sighing, Robb shifted and tried to think of all the things that could go wrong.

"The Lannisters could discover she is a Targaryen - or worse, Robert himself. She could call off the marriage. It's unheard of, but it can happen. She could-"

His thoughts came to a halt as he saw her.

She walked slowly, with her chin lowered and face covered by a veil. Her arm that wasn't linked with her father's was held against her waist.

Her dress was snow white, with lace detailing and long sleeves that went to her wrists. Her hands were left bare, and Robb could see them pinkening from the cold.

It felt like forever, but eventually, she was right in front of him. He could hear her shaky breathing. Pity welled inside of him. He wanted to tell her that it was alright, that she would be safe with him, but he couldn't.

"Who comes before the Old Gods this night?" Ned Stark asked in a low voice.

Jacaerys cleared his throat. "Rhaene, of the House Velaryon, comes to be wed. A woman grown and flowered, trueborn and noble." He glanced at his daughter. "She comes to beg the blessing of the Gods. Who comes to claim her?"

Robb stepped forward, and mustered up the courage. "Robb, of House Stark, Heir of Winterfell." He looked deeply into Rhaene's eyes, which he could barely see through her thin veil. "Who gives her?"

"Jacaerys Velaryon, her father, and Lord of the Tides." Her father stepped away, moving to stand beside Maekar in the crowd.

"Lady Rhaene, will you take this man?" Ned asked slowly.

Rhaene swallowed thickly. "I take this man," she said softly.

"Lord Robb, will you take this woman?"

Robb allowed the smallest of smiles to cover his face. "I take this woman," he said. He unfastened his cloak and stepped around her, placing it around her shoulders.

"Join hands, and kneel before the Old Gods, to allow them to bear witness to your union."

Robb put his hands, that had since stopped shaking, out for her to place her own in. Slowly, she slid her fingers into his palms.

The two of them knelt before the Heart Tree, in a moment of silent prayer.

≽ ∗ ≼

Rhaene sat next to Robb at the high table, watching with an expressionless face as the King laughed and whored and drunk himself into a stupor. Her father sat on her other side, and her brother beside him.

Sighing deeply, she brought her hands off of the wooden table and instead, lay them in her lap, where she intertwined her shivering fingers. The Kingslayer watched her, as he had been watching her for many days.

A warm hand engulfed her own, bringing her out of her reverie. "Are you alright?" Robb murmured into her ear, "we can leave, if you want."

Rhaene shook her head. "Stay, enjoy the party," she stood from her seat, brushing her dress down. "I'll be in... our quarters."

She left silently, nodding to the guards as she passed. Soon, she was in front of Robb's door. Shakily, she turned the knob and pushed it open.

His room was large, with a double featherbed that was covered in thick furs. A hearth was opposite, smoldering coals sitting in its depths. A fur rug sat in front of the flame, lit gently with the warm light.

She eyed her trunk, which had been moved into the room, as well as her vanity. It looked out of place. She made her way over to it, sitting down in the padded chair and observing herself meticulously in the mirror.

She looked stressed, she realized, with darkened green eyes and her lips set in a frown. Slowly, she brought her hands up and began to undo her complicated hairstyle. Soon, a blanket of curls cascaded down her back.

Then, she moved to the bed and lay back onto the soft furs, falling into a dreamless sleep.