The Conquest

Visenya

A little away from the village by the shore of God's Eye was a forest, almost as large as the 20 acres of Harrenhal's godswood. The forest was ancient. Trees thick and old with twisted roots and canopies so dense that it blocked out the sun, were bound by network of vines that crept through the forest bed. Ever and anon, the stillness is broken by melodious strain of birds.

The environment smelt of assortment of flowers unknown and the wet smell of earth after shower that influenced the cool breeze with it's intoxicating fragrance. The path that led Visenya to the chime of river- a stream from God's Eye that joined the Blackwater Rush- deep inside the woods was steep and laid with lush green grass. She took off her boots and sunk her feet into the blades of grass- the earth was cool and damp under her feet. 

Visenya breathed lungful of the tranquility that permeated throughout the woods. She had not felt this much at peace since- since when she couldn't remember. All her life had been being on guard and masking her insecurities, watching out for any probable jeopardy that may threaten the position she had worked so hard to achieve. She could feel the poison drain from her veins by the ground.

She looked back once- the chaos of their camp was left far behind like it was another life, illusory. This- the overwhelming sensations of her senses, the soft kisses of flowers and caress of the trees were more real. Delicately, she let her cloak fall to the ground and walked free from its weight. Next to unburden was her hands; the iron gauntlets fell on the soft ground soundlessly. As she continued down her path, Visenya left trail of fabric and jewelry behind her.

Not much later, she spied the river- a living ribbon of turquoise flowing confidently amid the moss and green. With each turn, it made soft splashes- the sound of a child laughing and sang with the birds in the language of nature. As she proceeded to take the pin off her remaining robe, her hackles rose having detected the presence of someone in the vicinity. 

"If you wanted to speak in private, you only needed to ask, brother."

"And risk hearing 'no'?"

Behind the chest-high oleander shrub, Aegon Targaryen materialized. Fully dressed in leather and a humble smile that Visenya despised, he ambled towards her. "The last time I appealed for a private dialogue you fled before I could get a word in."

Visenya remembered. Aegon didn't miss how he older sister was still avoiding him so he had slipped into her chamber unannounced while she was disrobing. Visenya had thrown a fit and Aegon had to shamefully from his queen's chamber.

The memory dissolved and Aegon's face came into focus. A sudden dread seeped in her veins as she realized how alone they were- all around them was green, green and little glimpse of blue and amid it were two figure clad in black and white.

"What do you want, Visenya?" He asked when they were two foot apart.

"For you to suffer." The truth came from the bottom of her heart; a feeling of acute despondency that alienated her from her surrounding for which she blamed none other than her brother. "I could have had everything- Dragonstone, Westeros but you came along and told me we would do it together."

"And we will."

"Will you?" She mocked. "Then why do I feel I have been kicked out along the way? Maybe you haven't, maybe its not your fault. But every time I see you, or Rhaenys, or even the bloody squires, it feels like all of you are meant to be here. And there is no place for me."

Aegon looked at her like he was seeing her first time. There's always an odd paradox to Visenya- she would writhe in agony rather than let her pride dissolve and let anyone see the pain she was in. Aegon crossed the distance between them, clutching her hands and bringing them to his chest. "But you are not unwanted here Visenya. You are loved. I have said it before and I will say it again, you have my heart. I made a vow."