Edith Targaryan:

Edith Targaryan had no life, like at all. Her mother and father took great care to shield her from any other living human being besides her brother and sister, Rheagar and Aelina, and themselves of course. Her father had decided when she was born that she would be the second born warrior of the family and her mother had decided that she would be a beautiful Lady of the Court. Her father eventually got his way and so it would be that she trained from dusk to dawn everyday with the Dothraki and unsullied.

Her mother however got her dream for the perfect, pretty Lady. Her sister Aelina had much more of a happier upbringing then her. Although Aelina was twelve years old [four years younger than herself] she was already the prettiest girl in Westeros. She had long black waves that flowed down her back and had an exquisite pair of violet eyes, just like her mother. Edith knew her mother loved her, but in a much different way. She gave her delicately crafted swords and daggers, while Aeline was given pretty dresses and jewelry.

In fact on her fifth birthday her mother promised to find the most precious gift of all, a gift fit for a strong warrior such as herself, a dragon. Her mother ordered people to search and eventually Edith was given two dragon eggs a black one and a white one. To have them hatch she must walk into a fire, a large bonfire to be precise. So her mother first tested hot water burning irons and thick fire itself and when she was deemed ready she was sent into the fire. By dawn her mother had been the only one left, ready in hand with a thick heavyset black robe.

When she emerged her white hair was matted and filled with ash and soot and her deep purple eyes stung slightly from the burn of the fire. The two dragons were perched on her shoulders, the black one she named Deanaro and he had deep dark red markings all over his scaly black body. She named the white one Kaos, he exquisite with bronze markings. Her mother was proud and later that day they had a grand feast for her which sent her older brother, Rheagar scowling his way through the many courses.

Her brother was always jealous of her, ever since she had been born. She was the favored of all of their mentors, both the Dothraki and Unsullied. She had been the first to master counter attacking an enemy. She was the first one to flip of a medium ledge and land on both her feet, and the first to throw a knife and for it to hit dead center and spill the course sand from the bag and onto the stone floor. Especially that night she hatched her dragons; she was the only one out of her siblings to be titled as the Unburnt.

But, that was many years ago, and now her dragons were full grown, her skills well learned and her tongues well spoken. But, it was also the time for her to fall on her ass over and over again.

The horse galloped through the green grass field, it's breathe came fast and heavy blending in with her own heavy breathing. This was her sixth or seventh time flipping off a horse and it was hard shit to master, especially when you have to draw an arrow and hit a target exactly twenty-five feet away. Her brother however, did not have to master this skill any further, for he flipped from his horse with grace and ease like a bird to flight, and he sat with an ugly smug plastered over his pale face, oh how she wished she could rip it right off.

Kaeggo, her Dothraki gave the cry for her to jump and with a push from her stirrups she flipped through the air grabbing the wooden arrow from its quiver, knocked it tight and fast and let it fire. As she landed on the grass she saw the arrow pierce directly in the center, at least a centimeter away from her brother's.

Edith beamed with pride and slung the bumpy bow back over her shoulder and walked over to her teacher who had his arms across his chest, staring at the dead on center mark.

"Davra! Better than yeri idiot gaezo! Yeri are a true lajak, Edith." Kaeggo said his long braid swinging. "Athchomar Inavva."

"Athchomar Gaezo." She nodded as she turned to her brother. "Let us speak the common lekh ha tih gaezo."

Kaeggo nodded, "You both did well, go to the Unsullied, leave the mud it shows you worked hard."

Edith returned the quiver and bows to the stand and continued the walk to the docks where their Unsullied trainer usually sat with his wife Missandiē.

"How do you do it?" Rheagar asked brushing his hands over his training clothes as he gave her a quizzical stare.

"Do what?" She replied staring at the large forge where nearly all of the weapons they fought and trained with were made.

"Beat me." He sighed. "Every time, no matter what we do, if we spar, shoot or ride you always win."

"That's not true." The corners of her mouth tipped up into a small smile. "That time when you were eleven and I was ten, you shot a spear straighter then me. That's the thing your better at javelins and spears. You have more muscle." She laughed prodding at her brother's arm.

Rheagar rolled his dark eyes, "Still you beat me in everything, you have two dragons who you kill a fuck ton of people with. Not to mention how skilled you are with knives."

"It depends," she stated. "You have to be quick, lean and angelic. If your not knives have no use for you." She looked up at her brother who's brows were scrunched up in confusion, "what is it brother?"

"The Lords," he exclaimed. "They weren't supposed to be here seven days time. What are they doing here?"

Edith looked up ahead of the path; her father was greeting Lords and Lady's that walked down from the top decks of their expensive boats. "I wonder why." She said mischievously as she glided down the rest of the path to where her father stood in heavy armor instead of a king's cloak and robes, despite the present heat congesting the land. "Father, why have these Lords arrived early?" She asked.

"For you and your brother." He answered. "You to will have a championship, fights contests, things such as that. Many are interested in Rheagar and your skills. They also want to see who they should offer up as a suitor."

"Father," she whined. "You promised I would have another year before mother supplied suitors."

"Time is of the essence," he gave a long sigh. "Especially with the rallies in the south. Many find it unfit that Targaryans sit on the throne, then again most of these people were under the rule of Cersei."

"Uh," Edith muttered in disgust. "Cersei, the senile bitch."

Her father's eyes drifted up the ship to where his sister stood, "Ah Sansa, my dear sister, how are you?"

"I'm your cousin, Jon not your sister." Cousin Sansa replied harshly at Jon. But, she leaned down to hug him and pat him on the shoulder lightly. When she moved to Edith she froze in disgust, "my gods, Jon how do you let her walk around like that?" Rheagar walked up his mouth open as if to greet her, "him too!"

"Sansa," Edith's father sighed. "These are my children not yours."

"Do you know where Aunt Arya is, Sansa? I was looking forward to seeing her again." Edith said hopefully.

"She was going Horseback with Jamie and Brienne." Sansa replied cooly. "She should be here in a day or too," she clasped her hands together. "I was looking forward to seeing my darling Aeline, is she in the tower?"

"Yes, Sansa." Her father replied as politely as he could. "She should be up their picking out an outfit for tonight's event, you could help her if you like."

"I would love to." Sansa said walking away from them.

"Poor Aliene," Rheagar smiled. "She will probably be buried in dresses, she will sure suffocate."

"Imagine," Edith sighed. "She probably would try to walk down those large gold stairs and roll right down." Both siblings started cackling, clutching their stomachs.

"Enough, children," their father interrupted a scowl on his face. "Tell Greyworm you will be sent to the tower to prepare for tonight's feast, as should Missandie and him."

"Yes father." The siblings answered in unison as they started off to the north side of the docks to inform their mentor of the horrid event.

Alistair Lannister never favored feasts or any event where he had to walk up to a group of Targaryen and offer their well-being. It wasn't like he disliked them or such he just found it very awkward since his dead aunt tried to kill at least half of the people in the room.

"You should try to snag the Targaryen girl." His father whispered from his right side.

"Dad!" He hissed. "There's no way I would do that and no way she could fall for me, I'm a Lannister."

Jamie merely waved a hand and picked up the goblet and took a long sip of bitter red wine, "Please no one mentions that the King and Queen are Aunt and Nephew, that's incest, marrying a targaryan girl you have no family ties with, however is not."

Alistair was about to answer to his fathers ridiculous remark when a loud horn sounded and a man in black robes decreed the Targaryen would descend the pretty marble steps any second. So the whole room clapped with politeness as the same man cleared his throat and the doors flew open. Hand in hand the King and Queen of Westeros walked down the staircase, one with a smile, and one with a strange look as if he suspected someone to jump out and murder everyone.

The next Targaryen went by, Rheagar he was named after Daenery's brother Rheagar, who's father his had slain. He walked down the stairs in fine robes swathed with silk, he was very muscular and you could tell his cloths were straining from the pressure of his arms.

Finally the name he had been looking forward to was called, Edith Targaryen. This time when the doors opened his eyes were saucers and he couldn't help but feel gravitated to this pretty girl. She had eyes of dark lavender, which showed nicely against the fluorescent purple and blue silk dress she had on. Her pure white hair was let loose and flowed down her back except for the top of her head, which was swirled in beautifully thought out braids. She smiled and her teeth were a flashing white and the gold crown on her stood out and out shinned against the lightning of the beautiful room.

When she reached the bottom her brother came and escorted her to the royal podium which was raised a slight amount over the rest of the pretty mahogany tables.

"She is pretty." Alistair smiled.

Unfortunately, Alistair's table was quite close to where Edith and her brother sat. So after that statement Edith had put down her cup of wine and gave him a confused look, even that was perfect on her face. She placed the golden goblet on the table and stood with many of the people of the feast. She mingled around them and returned smiles and thanks until she walked over to Alistair's table.

"I'm sorry to bother you all," she said in a melodic voice. "But could you all move from this table, I would like to talk to Alistair for a minute, please."

Alistair swallowed as his father and others moved away from the table to return to others or talk to old friends. "Yes, my princess. Why do you wish to speak with me?" He asked politely.

She sighed and rolled her eyes, "don't call me that."

"What?" He asked in confusion.

"Princess." She said. "The word makes me sound like such a damsel in distress."

"You are not?" he replied.

She leaned in close to him so their faces were close, "if you thought I was such a damsel in distress why are you here Alistair?"

"What do you mean?" He asked dumbfound.

"Tomorrow," she whispered. "I am going to beat the shit out of my brother, and everyone here is going to watch," her breath was ice cold. "So, no Alistair Lannister I do not consider myself a damsel in distress." And with that she stood from the table and left her long hair flowing behind her.

Alistair let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding in.

The Next Day Alistair and his father and mother sit on a raised platform where the Targaryen's sit also. Jon has a blank look on his face as he looks from entrance to entrance where his son and daughter will fight. The Queen however wears a worried expression and has servers bring her more and more goblets of wine as the game draws closer. The King's hand however, his uncle sat with an intelligent look as if he was playing out the odds.

By the corner Edith was to come out of, Arya stark stood sawing at her nails with her knife. He had traveled with her here and he has found that the she is not one for conversation, and is the best at ass kicking anywhere, no wonder she is one of the generals in Jon's army.

In the corner farthest away, Sansa's son Maven sits politely chatting amongst his group of friends chatting and laughing as usually. Alistair finds it that he can tolerate the boy only because he is nothing like his mother. Sure, he has her shocking blue eyes but he had deep black hair and from the looks of it could take anyone in a fight.

In his daydreaming state he only faintly hears the loud call announcing the game to start. Slowly but surely the door to Rheagar's side slide open and he walks out in thick brown leather that cuts open to expose his large muscles. There are no weapons aloud only fist fighting, hand-to-hand combat. The doors to Edith's side slide open and she stands at full attention, in matching leathers that show off the curves of her graceful body.

Her hair is tied to the back in a chorus of braids and as she walks Arya who whispers something in the girl's ear before disappearing to the stands stops her. He feels a shuffle of movement behind him as Arya Stark slides into the bench next to him.

Out of nowhere the general speaks, "My niece is going to win, just you watch Alistair, just you watch."

The call goes out and the siblings start towards each other with great speed.

…

Edith took a deep breath as her and her brother circled each other with deadly skill. Whoever won this round would be seen as the stronger one in the eyes of the judging Lords and Lady's sitting on the stands.

Out of no where her brother reached out with a right hook directed to her cheek bone, but Edith blocked at sent out a low kick directed towards his shin. The move hit home and he staggered back, until he came charging again. This time he let out a kick that hit her hard in the chest and a sweep to her legs sending her to the floor and hitting her nose and a stream of blood flowed out.

She flipped back up and charged for her brother, grabbing his head and kicking him in the stomach, she hopped up onto his neck and spun and knocked him onto the hard sandy gravel and his nose bled, while on the floor he grabbed her by the neck and lifted her up without squeezing. She kicked out with her boots landing the blow and knocked both of them to the floor, again.

With little time left, she gave out one anguished cry and threw a punch at her brother but found it blocked and she was on the floor as the horn blew out its loud cry, her brother had won round one.

…

Alistair watched the fight play out and was queezy by the blood splattered all over both of their faces as if they were painting a red picture.

"She lost." He said crestfallen to Arya.

"She has not lost yet, she still has two more rounds, and she has been saving her strength." Arya replied her eyes still fixed onto the arena.

Alistair glanced at the platform where the King, Queen, Princess, and King's hand sat. Jon has watching his children with admiration, while Daenerys looked rather worried and said something to her daughter Aelina who shrugged. Tyrion however, sat with a hand upon his face as he surveyed the situation at hand.

Alistair switched his eyes back to the arena as Edith scrubbed at the blood with a cloth and was dumping cups of water into her mouth while her brother stood at the other end waiting for her to finish. She glanced at him with an evil smile, and wiped her mouth as she stepped back into the ring.

…

Jon had placed his bets on his daughter, like always. It wasn't that he favored her, she just had more skill and determination than his son. Kaeggo and him had decided Jon would oversee the upcoming training that led up to the event, day after day he watched his daughter beat his son in everything. So, it shocked him that Rheagar had beat Edith in this round.

"Do you think she's okay," his wife said from his side. "She used to winning all the time at everything."

"Daenerys, my wonderful wife," Jon sighed. "She's just getting started."