Prologue
"The Lannisters are winning the war and I fear the Starks are about to give up, Your Grace. The younger Starks are still missing, including the girl. I've gathered information that Daenerys Targaryen is bidding her time, still gathering and conquering people." The hall was empty saving for Ser Erik kneeling before the throne where Lord Ilrie sat. Only three torches lit the hall and no other sound can be heard except for the occasionally breath of fire.
Lord Ilrie stared at the distance. How he remembered when he heard the news of Eddard Stark's death. And Joffrey Lannister, what a foolish boy.
"And what of Stark's bastard?"
"I'm afraid the Night's Watch still has no news."
Lord Ilrie nodded, his slowly blinding eyes of white tried adjusting in the dim-lit room. "Thank you, Ser Erik. That would be all."
Ser Erik made a final bow and retreated. Lord Ilrie of House Stormcloud watch the knight's back as he exited the hall. How young Erik was to be a knight but he had no choice. A boy of fifteen who should be a squire became a knight.
"Thoughts, father?" the familiar, gentle voice drew Lord Ilrie back to reality.
Veneria stood before her father, her black-to-blue hair shone as beautiful as ever. She was a mere girl, the age of fourteen and yet she stood proud like her late mother.
"I'm afraid we have to make our move, my dear. The war is not good and as the Starks fear, winter is coming." Lord Ilrie slowly stood from his seat, old age had taken over his once young and strong body. He fought the battle against Aerys and he was one of the many who witness the fall of Rhaegar. He remembered the days like it was yesterday.
Veneria bowed, "Silence is the loudest, father."
"Yes, yes. Silence is the loudest." It was the Stormcloud's principle. They have been silent for long after Aerys. After the dragons' death. Their house was never mentioned, they never conquered anything else. Their household is less than a hundred, enough stewards, horses, maids, septa's, squires, knights, farmers, and people to rule. They never drew attention to themselves, not until now.
"You are right of age, my dear. It is time." Lord Ilrie gently touched his daughter's cheek.
"As it pleases you, father." Veneria bowed and left the room.
Their castle was small, not bigger than the castle of Lysa Arryn in the Eyrie. Much smaller, in fact, but it stood tall straight and proud, almost like it could never be broken down. She ascended the stairs of her tower, climbing to the top. Her silk dress made swooshing sound that comforted her against the silence of the entire castle. Her face was calm and yet her heart and blood was beating with excitement. This is the time for the entire realm to recognize who they are. Many have forgotten about the Stormclouds but this is their time once again to rule. The wolves, stags, dragons, and lion, how odd…Veneria thought. There used to be five.
She reached the top most of the tower and pushed open the big oak door. The darkness welcomed her like an old friend. Slowly, her steps echoed around the room and it stirred low grumbling sounds.
"Daenerys Targaryen," Veneria whispered, "The last of the dragon blood. Mother of dragons." There was a sudden screech and the torch blazed to life. Before her stood a massive white dragon, white as snow with eyes redder than blood. The dragon slowly crept towards Veneria as she held out her hand, "Daenerys has three but they're all babies, aren't they, sweet one? The blood of Balerion the Black Dread flows in you and now is our time to bring back our name."