"And so came the time for a dragon to be offered to a wolf."
A tale in which Robb Stark lives, Daenerys Targaryen is desperate to secure allies, and Rhaegar Targaryen's only living daughter serves as the bargaining chip.
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THE FEAST
The first thing that Robb Stark noticed upon Naelyra's entrance into the dining hall was that she was truly a vision in red.
The gown she wore was a deep red color -- no grays, whites, or blue's in sight -- that cinched in at the waist, displaying how small it was before subtly flaring out. It was nothing flashy, and there was no skin on display, but she immediately grasped the attention of those in hall who came to regard her carefully, before returning back to their supper and ale.
The Young Wolf stood as the Princess neared, greeting him with a soft smile as he motioned for her to take a seat beside him.
She did so and he took a moment to examine the soft tendrils of hair that was pushed over her shoulder, the waves seeming to glow in the candlelight like moonlight. Her eyes turned to him, offering a tender gaze as she said, "Thank you for hosting me so kindly, Your Grace. My chambers are very accommodating."
"It is no problem at all, Princess," he offered back, "you look well."
She smiled easily -- out of his peripheral, he saw Jon watching silently -- and replied, "Thank you. The castle's warmth has restored my spirits, I suppose."
He offered a pleasant smile in return, watching as she observed the others in the hall before her eyes landed on Jon Snow, watching him approach the table slowly with his cloak fluttering around his feet. He smiled tightly at the girl, her amethyst eyes sweeping over his facial expression, analytical not of his looks, but his intentions.
"Jon Snow," she greeted coolly, "You were commander of the Knight's Watch, weren't you?"
"I was," Jon responded gruffly, not offering much further detail as he came to sit awkwardly next to her.
"And a great commander he was," Robb offered in favor his brother, the other men hearing his words and lifting their goblets in approval of the statement. Robb Stark waited for their volume to lower before asking, "is it true you visited the Land of Asshai?"
Naelyra Targaryen's expression faltered at the abrupt question, a solemn look passing over her before she straightened her back and nodded, "Yes, your grace. I was there for quite some time when I was a child. The Ghost Grass is truly a sight to see." It was a formal answer, one that lacked any detail of her life, and Robb Stark fought the urge to pry, but Jon Snow did not.
"And why is it that you left, princess?" Robb Stark nearly glowered at his brother for the invasive question, but the girl did not flinch, as if she seemed to expect it.
"I heard the stories of my aunt and all she was doing to free the slaves in Meeren," she responded, thin fingers skimming over her cup, "I decided that although I was comfortable in Asshai, I desired to meet her."
One man, who already drunk and merry, called loudly, "I heard that she fed her dragons with them at her teet," the man hollered, "what I would do to be that very creature!" Boisterous laughter followed, others joining in.
