There were two babes in the Tower of Joy.
Two babes tied so closely to their parents, Ned had to make the decision.
One with hair like raven feathers, eyes as grey as steel, and a face of a true Stark. The other, with hair like moonlight, eyes lik...
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Jon had decided that if the North needed to see Rhaenar the way he saw Rhaenar, the way to do such a thing would be to introduce them. There was an aura about her, an air that may be off putting to most, but once they got to see who she was, it becomes addictive. Rhae sighed softly as she pushed back a lock of pale white, securing it with a small dragon clip as she stared up at him, the braids free from her hair as she dressed modestly.
That's the first thing he had told her to do, dress in black. The Northerners weren't accustomed to dresses of white or cloaks of pure pale fur; he told her to blend in, to strip it all back until they reached the battlefield. "Are you sure?" She asked as a single braid sat in her hair, the clip just as dull as her dark coat as she turned in the dingy mirror. "This doesn't feel..." Herself, was the word she was looking for.
Rhae had grown used to having beautiful clothes, of wearing beautiful things and decorating herself in dragons; this felt too... Plain for a princess. "Yes, once they see you they'll come to get used to the way you dress; ease them in first." She shot him a glare, not appreciating it. "They're hard, used to only dressing for warmth."
"And you're sure this is it?" She questioned, turning to show off the spine of fur that ran down the back - Jon had said that was enough. "Surely they don't care what I wear, more than how I act?"
"No they don't. It's not for long, just until they stop following you with their eyes." Her brow quirked, that would never stop. If the Northerners didn't care, what was he doing this for? Because Sansa didn't like the idea of her? Or that was just Jon's honest opinion.
Rhaenar sighed softly. "Why are you doing this Jon? Really?" Never before had she let a man dictate what she wore since her station had risen, but if this was to truly aid the North, she would.
"I'm just trying to keep you safe. These men had little to nothing, I don't want them to be tempted by Cersei's offer, otherwise I'll never forgive myself." Rhae nodded, understanding him. She would do the same if she was in his shoes, she'd try to protect him anyway she could. "It's just for a few days, and then you can dress in whatever you want to dress in." He uttered as he came up behind her, seeing the silver chains and a crown that sat upon plush pillows. There wasn't much jewellery, the pieces she usually wore but Rhaenar reached for a golden necklace, a ring sitting upon the chain.
That was an exception, she thought as she tucked it underneath the coat, securing it with a neckerchief of red - small victories when picking battles. He reached out for a shawl of fur, one of his own as he passed it to Rhaenar who secured it around her shoulders. "There." He muttered, looking her over.
