𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕯𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖔𝖓 [𝗥𝗼𝗯𝗯.𝗦]

23

UNTIL THE LAST
STAR DIES

VISENYA hated it all, the sight of Essos was almost too much for her to bear. She missed it, the North. The land that she came from. The Free Cities had it's own beauty, this she knew. But her longing for home hadn't ceased. Rickon didn't seem to mind, he thought it was all a rather adventurous journey. Vhagar chirped, nuzzling against her cheek. Her darling Dragon had grown much, they all had. Even Ghost. It was the strangest sight, her wolf and dragons getting along as if they had been siblings from birth. A strange thought and sight indeed.

The wind raked its hands through he long pale blonde locks. The camp was full of men, all of them belonging to her Uncle Daeron. Things had been rather tense between them since his harsh accusations. Visenya could forgive him, but the truth was, she hardly knew her Uncle. And she couldn't claim he was a good man just because of his handsome desirous features. Visenya shook her head, Vhagar following her as she went.

Visenya closed her eyes with a sigh, bathing in the bright sunlight. It was luminous and bright, like most days in Essos. But it was welcome with open arms, as much as she missed the cold. The warmth distracted her from the sorrowful pain that had consumed her very soul.

The sound of heavy boots on the dry ground beneath her feet pulled her from such thoughts. The image of her father quickly fading away into nothing. Visenya swallowed her grief with all the strength she could manage. Her fists clenching at the sight of her Uncle. He wore his crimson cloak like always, proud and arrogant.

She tried to smile but it was feeble, her heart ached. For the comfort of a brother that lived across the wide and vast ocean. For the sister that had treasured her precious needle. Visenya knew nothing of their whereabouts and perhaps that was what broke her heart the most. Her brother, Robb, hadn't even deemed her worthy of a reply.

"Niece," greeted Daeron.

Visenya did nothing but nod at the sight of him, her hands reaching for Vhagar. Pulling him to her chest, the searching desire to drown in her misery was far less.

"He hasn't replied to me. My brother, Robb." She chuckled bitterly. "Mayhaps he thinks I'm a traitor. Or hates me for abandoning Bran. B-But there was nothing I could do..."

Visenya knew not why she was telling him the troubles of her heart. As bittersweet as they were.

Daeron had little to say to that, and he was hardly a stranger to the truth of heartbreak. For all their troubles he couldn't help the remorse that swelled within his chest.

"Perhaps he hasn't had the time to reply? It is very well possible with the war that has consumed Westeros."

Visenya blinked. "May I ask, how you know so much about Westeros? I thought you've never been back home."