A Promise of Iron

Petyr

He slipped out of the Red Keep and through the mud gate, clutching the bundle to his chest. The city was in outrage, screams of pain, bloodlust and pure hatred filled the air as thick as the smoke the hung over every building and street. Keeping as close to the city wall as possible he inched his way towards the docks trying the shield his burden from most of the smoke. 

As he neared the ship, it's captain looked up, gold tooth gleaming, "I assume you've brought my promised pay?"

After handing over a few gold dragons he hunkered down in a corner of the one room below deck and waited for the ship to move. He slowly swayed back and forth, humming a song from a memory. Asweet memory of one dance with the one woman he could ever love. It was because of her he was here tonight without her he never would have been given a place at court or this very secret task.

At long last the water began to move beneath them, and Petyr felt safe enough to remove the flap of cloth cover the top of the bundle. Her sleepy eyes opened and looked straight into his, those eyes weren't Stark eyes, he could easily tell. She seemed to take after her Dornish grandmother, with her golden-brown eyes and silky mop of black hair but... even just a few hours old, the look on her face was pure Targaryen. 

He sat up shaking in his four poster bed as the cold night air blew in through a window carelessly left ajar. The wind felt like winter, smelled like winter even tasted like winter. He didn't need to see the white raven himself, a blind man could tell the seasons had changed. As he dressed and lit a candle he thought back on his strange dream, no, not a dream, a memory. A memory almost sixteen years old and shoved in the darkest corners of his mind.

Still, he could not help but think of her now, where she could be. He knew she was in the other world the one the Dornish maesters had sent her to keep her safe. The few hours he had there were the most revolutionary moments of his life. When he had slipped into a hospital to find a pair of foster parents for the girl, who he had named Visera, a play on her young uncle's name. As he walked down the almost too pristine hallway he spotted a young couple on a bench, the wife had been crying, that was evident and she was leaning against her husband. Her very Dornish looking husband. 

"Excuse me," he caught the attention of a member of staff. "Would you be ever so kind as to tell me what happened to that poor couple?"

"Well, it's quite sad really. We have their nine-month-old daughter on life support in the room across the hall. She just stopped breathing."

"Why, that's terrible!"

"Yes, I suppose it is. I actually only stopped because I thought you had the poor child. She looks almost identical to the one in that room. They could be twins, really."

"How... strange. Thank you for your time." He mumbled as he walked by, straight to the end of the corridor to an open closet, a plan already forming in his head. Just as he thought, spare coats, like the ones he had been seeing lined the walls of the closet. He shrugged one on and walked with determination towards two people who were about to be thrilled with the news, and appearence of their healthy baby girl.

As he left the building he passed another couple, though they had their child with them. The girl looked at him with unblinking, icy green eyes, and though they weren't grey he knew that that one. That one was a wolf. He took the crystals that the maesters had instructed him to take when his duty was finished and couldn't help wondering...

Could there be friendship between fire and ice?