The Northern Dragon

CH 10: FIRE AND BLOOD

The people's cheers did not stop as Ilyn Payne lowered his blade and blood dripped down the weapon, the executioner crouching down and grabbing the lord's head for all to see.

Sansa's eyes rolled back and she fell on her cousin's arms unconscious, the blonde holding her up as he took in a deep breath and turned his sapphire pools to his uncle's body.

The Hound tightened his hold around Rhaenys as she kept screaming, tears falling down without stop. Feeling her struggles ceasing, the man unwrapped his arms from around her.

With shaken steps, she walked closer to his lifeless form, falling on her knees beside him.

The crimson pool of blood ran around him, tainting her black dress and pale hands.

"No..." another sob escaped her lips as her hands squeezed his clothes, her head falling over his back, her pained cries continuing.

Watching as the cheers began to vanish, Joffrey quickly pointed to the Hound who did not move a muscle to stop her, "W-What are you waiting for? Take her out of there."

"Don't you even dare." Michael spat at the boy, carrying Sansa in his arms.

But before any fight broke out, the dragon sat up and rubbed her wet cheeks. Some of the blood rubbing on her cheeks.

Her head turned around and she looked up them, some of them stepping back as they stared into her eyes. Those amethysts eyes in which fire was brightly burning.

As strange as it felt, Varys was slightly frightened as he stepped closer to the Targaryen's chambers the day after the execution of Lord Eddard Stark, walking in the moment he heard her voice.

The woman was standing on her balcony, not sparing him a glance as she stared down at the palace gardens, or more like the people down below. Her black gown fluttering around her with the wind and her silver curls.

What was really apprehensive for the man though, was the fact that her presence felt like that of a completely different person. Had it not been for her snowy tresses, he would have mistaken her for someone else.

Blinking rapidly, Varys made a bow in greeting, "My Lady-"

"I thought it was 'Your Grace'?" Rhaenys cut him off, finally turning back to the man so that they were face to face, "That's what you called me before, wasn't it? Princess Rhaenys? The one true Queen?"

"My apologies. You did not seem to enjoy that title the last time." the Spider lowered his head, furrowing his brows in puzzlement as he looked her over.

It wasn't just her presence that had changed, but also the way she stood and how she spoke. It radiated power and fire, something she had tried to contain before.

But she wasn't going to hide it anymore.

She wasn't going to hide who she was behind an ice wall.

"Your Grace, may I ask, but what can I do for you?" wondered the Master of Whispers, taking a couple of steps closer to the white-haired girl.

Smiling at him, Rhaenys went inside and closed the door to the balcony behind her, her hands clasped together before her as she slowly walked in front of the man, "That depends."

"Depends? On what?" questioned the man, the princess walking past him and whispering to his ear, "On your answer."

Varys shivered slightly as he felt her eyes locked on the back of his head, her voice turning icy as she spoke, "Did you or did you not tell the Small Council about my aunt's pregnancy?"

"W... What...?" the man turned back to her at the question, the woman tilting her head at him, "It was a simple question, wasn't it? Did you or did you not, Lord Varys? Which is it?"