A sharp shout followed closely the shattering of glass against the wall sounded loud and clear down the spacious halls of the palace. This was a normal occurrence within King's Landing, for the dragons that lived there always had such a temper. The owner of such a rage was a rather stunning young woman who was rather petite in height, and frail in appearance. A true princess and future heiress to the throne, but at the moment she appeared more like an elegant dragon on a rampage.

"I told you I did not want one!" That scream was followed by another item breaking against the wall.
"Get out! Go away all of you!" This one was followed by an inhuman roar that demanded attention. The sound of feet scurrying out of the room was all that could be heard.

The attire that chosen was rather feminine with a touch of masculinity. Her authority was represented by a form-fitting ensemble constructed of fine leather, canvas, and suede. The top portion was made of pieced together leather, the strength of the material and molded fit reflecting the strength of her character. As decoration and a mark of her high status, there was a wide strip of fine mauve fabric running down the front. The skirt reaffirms her identity as the Iron Throne heir and trousers implying her standing as equal to men. Sintara Targaryen's chest heaved with exertion as she dropped the glass in her hand, letting it shatter, and plopped on the ground. The dressing room was a disaster, but a dragon's wrath was never peaceful.

As she sat down on the dirty ground a scaled beast trotted up, it was pitch black with cool amber eyes. The size was a little larger than a medium sized dog with large wings that could span around half the room if he so wished it. Balerion was the biggest hatchling in his clutch and one of the smartest as well. He was rather stoic yet far meaner than his temperamental sister who had destroyed yet another room within the palace. Instead of the imprint of a mother, he saw her more as a sister he looked after.

"Can you believe it Balerion?" The young Dragon sat down beside the woman. "I told him I wanted no celebration of my nameday, mother too and yet they still wish to throw one. But I know the real reason why."

Sintara rose from her place up in the ground and brushed off any dirt upon her attire."This is not for me, he just wants to remind the houses he is in charge." She referenced bitterly of her father.

The mad king had been growing more and more paranoid after her birth and now at the age nineteen, it had been blown out of proportion. He thought everyone was after his throne, including certain houses. Her nameday celebration was a perfect way to gather everyone and remind them who ruled, it was not for her but his benefit. It would all go wrong she just knew it. She tilted her head backward when she heard the sharp rapping on the door, she assumed it was her mother and was certainly not going to wait around for a scolding or argument.

"Balerion help me." She quickly pleaded while shooting over to a nearby window.

With a snort the dragon shook his head while trotting over, allowing her to step on his back and host herself up and out the window. He trailed soon after with a light beat of his large wings, standing on the still and looking down at her. Thankful they had been on the first floor otherwise there could have been a little trouble. Sintara grabbed his tail when he offered it and pulled her out of the bush she had landed in. The sharp rapping on the door grew louder as Sintara took off with dragon close behind her into the woods.

She knew she would most likely upset her mother with her refusal to be at the celebration and infuriate her father, but so be it. She lacked any true friends, besides her dragons, because of her more straightforward personality as well as her title. But she didn't mind really anyway.

"Let's see if we can find Sunfyre." She told Balerion.

The dragon didn't appear like he wanted to do that. Hunting sounded more pleasing to the stomach, but he followed her to the small lake a bit north from them in search of the fishing dragon. Sunfyre was a part of his clutch, a sister as white as snow with gold laced throughout her body. He found her annoying, but Sintara for some odd reason liked her.

•••

The sound of many hooves clopping against the ground had been almost tiring at first. But after the first couple of weeks, it had turned into background noise. Seated upon a dark-colored horse was a tall young woman. Her hair, so dark it almost seemed black, was thick and so long it reached almost to her waist normally. She had it combed and pulled into a large, elegant braid.

Her dress was a dull blue color with faded-black patterns. It tightened a little under her breasts, the fabric clasped together with a pin. The pin was golden, with the little figure of a dire wolf - the Stark House sigil. The dress trailed behind her a couple of feet, the sleeves long. The fabric was, in general, soft to the touch. And around it all, she wore a large, black cloak. It flowed all the way to the ground, the neck and shoulder areas lined in thick, warm fur. She had, of course, long since tucked her cloak away; it was far too warm for her winter clothing.

"But, Mother, must I wear this dress? It is far too formal." She complained softly.

She didn't mean to whine. She could have handled being carted off to some party the mad king was throwing - even if it was, clearly, just a demonstration of his need to assert himself. Nonetheless, she could have handled it with class. But then she was shoved into this dress, told it's what she would be wearing to the celebration. Had she not respected her parents she would have flat out refused to wear it and slipped into something she much preferred. Her mother had fussed over her appearance for days, as though she were trying to make her look 'perfect.' Her father had supported this, and something about the look in her parents' eyes made her uneasy.

"Hush. It is Sintara Targaryen's nameday celebration. You are in attendance representing House Stark; when they see you, they see the North." Lady Stark's tone was filled with impatience.

They'd had this argument repeatedly since leaving their home, and during the trip her mother had begun to lose her collected air. The closer they came to King's Landing, the clearer it was she was anxious, though of what specifically Ravenna did not know. She felt a twinge of guilt, feeling selfish for complaining. Especially when both of her parents were so clearly troubled by something.

"... You're worried about this celebration, aren't you?" she asked suddenly, casting a glance at her mother. There was a long moment of silence between the two women and they rode side-by-side on horses, her mother looking beautiful despite the stress that weighed on her.

"Yes. I am worried." her mother murmured after a moment, nodding slowly. Ravenna was about to press for more information, but her mother expected this and beat her to it.

The following words that slipped from her mother's tongue were words that Ravenna had heard all throughout her life. They were the words House Stark lived by and were heard quoting in many different situations. These words had many meanings and many applications ; and in this moment, in the meaning Ravenna heard, she felt a chill run down her spine, a sudden, unknown fear striking her heart. It made her take this situation far more seriously.

"Winter is coming."

She did not have time to press her mother with more questions. Reality hit her rather suddenly as she realized where they were. The noise around them grew louder as she focused, no longer blocking it all out. She looked around at the city, at all the people; in the distance, she could see the ocean. They were here - they'd made it. They had reached King's Landing.

After a month-long travel, after much planning and being told over-and-over again how to act and speak, what to say and what not to say, the young woman found her mind going blank. This was her first visit to King's Landing, and although it was quite a site to behold (could you blame her for being excited to see the Iron Throne?), she couldn't help but feel a dread in her heart. She longed to turn around and race back to the cold world she called home; to the Northern land that she knew so well. But it was too late. They were here, they were approaching the palace, and in no time they would be in the middle of a celebration for a young woman they didn't even really know.