Rhaenys grew up at Winterfell, a dragon amongst wolves. The memories of a first life decreased in brightness and were replaced by memories of running about the snow laden ground of the courtyard. She cared for baby Jon and was mesmerized by Robb, at least when he grew past the babbling stage. Though she never forgot holding Aegon in her arms or being held in Rhaegar's arms, she enjoyed holding little Bran or Sansa in her arms. She had always felt the need for family and this time she was getting siblings.

Or at least children her own age that felt like siblings. She was a ward, just like Theon Greyjoy later on. When news came that the Lannister fleet had gotten burned and destroyed, Rhaenys had grinned to herself. At least she had gotten some measure of revenge against the Lannisters but for the most part, she had seen Eddard Stark off with a twinge of worry. She remembered Eddard Stark a few years after her family was killed, coming home with little Theon beside him. Rhaenys had been nine years old then and had tried to keep Theon company in the first few weeks, showing him around Winterfell. Of course, Arthur's presence behind her had frightened Theon some, seeing the tall man with the big sword at his waist. Rhaenys had giggled and ran right into Arthur's arms, making the former kingsguard laugh.

Robb had joined her, all of six years old, in showing Theon around. They, along with Jon, had inevitably ran off without her often enough at that time and she had laughed, remembering her first few years at school at Hogwarts. She had thought boys were aliens at that time too and even before, in elementary school, boys had been carriers of cooties. And even so, back in England, no one had played with her due to her cousin's bullying. When she was alone, she often went to go play with Arya and they got along well enough. Arya had insisted on Rhaenys telling stories of the old dragon skulls in the red keep and she had obliged the younger girl.

She remembered the dragon skulls with fondness, knowing somehow that they were gone now. The Usurper, she had heard her shadows call Robert that, had probably taken them down. She told Arya of Balerion's skull at night but when Arya or Sansa asked of Rhaegar, she quieted down and didn't talk. Rhaegar was her father and Jon's and she didn't… Both of her families, the Potter and the Targaryens, had gotten killed before she could really know them and she wanted to keep what she knew of Rhaegar to herself.

She often dreamed of Rhaegar, her magic floating around her dreams enough that she knew she was seeing the past. On one particular night eight years after she had moved to Winterfell, she woke up with a scream on her lips and sweat on her brow. She jumped out of her bed, threw a fur cloak on because it was winter and it was cold, and raced out of the keep. She didn't even keep her feet silent enough that no one heard her; Ser Oswell followed her out into the courtyard and out to the godswood. And of course, now full grown Balerion padded out to walk alongside her. The tom cat got along with her and was an asshole to everyone else.

She stood beneath the heart tree, breathing heavily. Snow fell onto her black hair and stuck to her eyelashes, causing her to wordlessly cast a small weather shield around her. Balerion curled around her and asked to be picked up, purring away the moment she did. She tucked him under her cloak and hugged his warm body close, the cat's protective nature reminding her of Hedwig. Ser Oswell stood behind her, a quiet shadow that she had gotten used to a few years ago. The three former kingsguard had always rotated between her, keeping a subtle eye on Jon as well. Jon didn't even know that he was Rhaegar's son because Ned and the kingsguard had made her keep that a secret.

"Princess, it's cold out here," Ser Oswell remarked after a few minutes. "You mustn't freeze."

"I've told you," Rhaenys muttered. "I'm not a princess anymore. It's just Rhaenys."

"Princess, it's cold out here."

Rhaenys snorted, seeing her breath in the air on the exhale. "You know what? I've come to see Winterfell as home. I want nothing to do with King's Landing or the throne. It's safe here, or well, at least safe with you and Arthur and Ser Gerold."

"Rather cold for a home," Ser Oswell commented, his hand on the hilt of his sword. It wasn't like anything or anyone could get to her in the godswood but Ser Oswell and the others were ever alert, since someone had tried to kill her a few months ago. They had deduced that it was a Faceless man but the man had killed himself before they could get answers.

"I miss father," Rhaenys whispered. "Is that so wrong of me? When he… and… my grandfather between them got Ned's sister, brother and father killed?"

She heard Oswell inhale sharply and then he was standing next to her, silent as ever. "Arthur should be here; he's the best one to ask about dreams."

"Who says I had a dream?" Rhaenys questioned, looking up at the man. She pushed a few strands of black hair behind her ear and pulled her cloak tighter around her; she always seemed to do worse in the cold weather than the Starks. Though she enjoyed the warmer weather and loved sitting near a fire. Mayhaps it was because she was a Targaryen. She had never felt the weather like this before, when she was a witch and was going to school at Hogwarts.

"You have this look about you," Oswell offered.

Rhaenys snorted as he tried to copy her expression. "It was a dream of my grandfather."

Ser Oswell sighed and held out a hand. "It's best if we talk about this in the morning when you've had sleep. Come, your grace."

"Ser! I'm not a queen!"

"Your mother thought you would be," Oswell spoke as they walked back into the courtyard and then up to her room. She was quartered next to Sansa and Arya; the boys were opposite them in rooms. Ser Arthur and Gerold Hightower and Oswell were quartered with the men at arms but they always took a night shift with her. In the first few days after the attempt on her life, Robb had offered to sleep outside her door, like a knight in shining armor. Rhaenys had laughed quietly, seeing Robb smile at her. She hadn't laughed a lot around that time, the attack having reminded her of her heritage.

"Yeah, well, my mother was raped and killed in the Red Keep," Rhaenys retorted, shrugging. They stopped at her door and Ser Oswell saw her in. Rhaenys dropped Balerion onto the stone floor and he raced over to hurry under the covers of her bed, yowling quietly at his mistress' strange outing to the cold world. "I would prefer not to be royalty."

Oswell studied her then wished her goodnight.


"Did my grandfather burn people alive?" Rhaenys questioned the next morning as breakfast was served in the great hall. Everyone stilled, including the servants. Eddard stared at her with narrowed grey eyes and Lady Catelyn's eyes widened, her face going pale. Theon, Jon and Robb all turned to stare at her with wide eyes. Sansa gasped, her face going paler than Catelyn's. Ned stared at her with something akin to pity which made Rhaenys sigh and turn away, to look at Jon's expression. His grey eyes, which were Stark eyes, were wide and solemn.

Maester Luwin turned to look at her too, studying. He was opening a few scrolls, messages that had come from Stark bannermen during the night. Some messages said that some fortress was running low on food or some other town was running low on water. Some messages said how many people died of the winter sickness that was going around. Ser Gerold, Ser Oswell and Ser Arthur were eating with Ser Rodrik, having heard of wildling raids. Rhaenys knew that at least one of them planned to go fight with the Stark bannermen.

Ned dipped his head in a slight nod. "He did."

"Ned! This is not meal talk!" Catelyn exclaimed, gesturing to the kids.

"She is ten and one," Ned spoke. "She deserves to know. Cat, you know how I found her."

Catelyn frowned and turned to look at her then at Jon. "Very well, but not at the table."

"Rhaenys, you can come with me to my solar," Ned remarked. "If you want to hear of your grandfather, I will tell you."

She nodded then finished up her breakfast.


"He is not sitting at the table with us," Catelyn spoke out, gesturing to where Jon was sitting with Robb and Theon. Ned was standing across from her in the doorway of the great hall. "Not when the Northern lords come to celebrate the harvest."

Rhaenys and Arya were sitting in the corner of the hall, whispering about something. They were most likely arguing about how useless sewing was. Rhaenys was now ten and four years old, three years older than Robb and Jon.

"Cat…" Ned trailed off.

"He's your bastard son," Cat retorted.

Ned sighed, peering over at Jon then at Rhaenys. "You are allowing Rhaenys to sit with us. She's no different than Jon."

"Rhaenys is not a bastard child. Jon is."

"I have already said I am sorry," Ned whispered. "You are punishing Jon for my transgressions."

Catelyn narrowed her eyes then she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She looked over to where Arya and Rhaenys were only to see the dragon princess staring at her. Rhaenys' light purple eyes were narrowed, upset, as if she had heard what Catelyn had been saying about Jon. And for all that Catelyn knew, maybe Rhaenys Targaryen could.


"Arthur, could you teach me how to fight?" Rhaenys asked, looking up at Arthur. He was standing on Winterfell's north wall, remembering his first sighting of the wall a few years ago. There had been wildling raids a few months ago and Arthur had ended up at the Wall, in Castle Black afterwards. He glanced at her, her black curls moving about in the wind. Her eyes, that had deepened to Rhaegar's deep purple, looked up at him with her best pleading look. The look that had gotten Rhaenys whatever she wanted in King's Landing; the grin that had immediately gotten Rhaegar and Elia wrapped around her little finger. They had doted on her so much...

"Rhaenys," Arthur started, looking over to where Robb, Theon and Jon were training with Ser Rodrik. Ser Gerold was assisting, pointing out a few errors in their stances.

"I need to know how to fight, Arthur," Rhaenys argued. "Besides, I don't want to immediately reach for the magic, not when it scares people."

Arthur sighed, remembering when she had first made something float back in King's Landing. It had been when they had gone to Dorne for the first time; Rhaenys had been so excited about seeing her uncles that she had made the things around her float. Elia's ladies in waiting had been so scared when that had happened. Unluckily, it had also been around Aerys and when Arthur had seen undisguised want in the king's eyes, he had told Rhaegar about it. Rhaegar had told them to keep a further eye on his daughter, see that Aerys didn't spend any undue time with her.

"Little princess-"

"Arthur, you're going to say yes," Rhaenys argued, her eyes narrowed. "I need to be ready."

Arthur stared at her, raising an eyebrow. "Dream?"

"It was another white walker one," Rhaenys admitted quietly. "I know they haven't been seen in thousands of years. But there are so many ways I could get into trouble and I want to be able to protect myself without you or the others around to protect myself."

Arthur sighed, filing away her words about having another white walker dream. Last week, she had had a dream of dragons. "Alright, Rhaenys. I'll teach you how to fight. It's not like Lord Stark or Lady Stark have any say in what you do or don't do. Join us when we assist Ser Rodrik in teaching the boys. I'll talk to Eddard about it."


Rhaenys walked out into the courtyard, her eyes on Ser Rodrik standing in the practice yard. Robb, Theon, and Jon were standing in front of Rodrik, all with practice swords in their hands. Arya of course, was hiding between some of the barrels in the farthest corner, watching.

Arthur Dayne and Gerold Hightower were sparring to one side, showing the boys how to move their feet. Rhaenys finally came to a stop next to Robb, who grinned at her.

"Come to watch?" Theon asked, smirking at her.

"No," Rhaenys replied.

Theon raised an eyebrow.

"I came to learn," Rhaenys offered, grinning at Theon's somewhat unsurprised look.

"That was what the shouting match was about then," Robb said. "Ser Rodrik?"

Their teacher was looking Rhaenys over apprehensively. "Lord Stark said not to teach you lest the king disapprove."

"That's fine," Rhaenys remarked, grinning wider and swinging the wooden practice sword that she held within her left hand. Her hand remembered holding a thinner, smaller stick in her left hand, made of holly. "I have my shadows to teach me."

Arthur winked at her and bowed to Ser Gerold, who shrugged in bemusement. All three former members of the kingsguard were well used to the chaos she brought with her.


"Mother, Jon's hurt!" Robb yelled, rushing into the hallway and stopping in the doorway of the room where the women were. Rhaenys was sitting next to Arya, across from Sansa. Jeyne Poole sat next to Sansa and Septa Mordane sat in the middle of the group, pointing out a problem in Rhaenys' sewing. The ten and five year old girl looked up at his arrival, her violet eyes studying him. Robb grinned at her and she raised an eyebrow. Rhaenys looked back at her sewing then over to Catelyn, who immediately looked up at her first born son. "Yes, Robb?"

"Jon's hurt! He fell from a tree!"

Rhaenys stood up abruptly, dropping her undone sewing on the stool, and hurrying over to the door. She stared at Robb, tilted her head in that strange way she did, then ran back through the hall.

"Hmm? I shall send for Maester Luwin. Go. We shall be there quickly."

Robb stared at his mother then ran back the way that he had come, heading out of the keep and the courtyard and into the godswood. He knew by now that his mother wouldn't tell the maester for another ten or fifteen minutes, so used to her being prejudiced against Jon. He could hear Rhaenys already talking to Jon, her quiet voice steadying but worried. He found Jon by the tree where he had left him and Rhaenys kneeling over him. Ser Arthur was standing guard over Rhaenys, her silent protector. Or occasionally not so silent. Robb remembered Arthur and Ned's argument over teaching the girl how to fight a few years ago. Robb stopped and looked over to Rhaenys, seeing her look back at him then down at Jon.

"You told Lady Catelyn?" Jon asked shakily, clutching his right arm close to his chest.

"Yes, I did, Jon," Robb replied, wrapping a hand over Jon's good hand. Jon squeezed his hand and they looked at each other, both knowing that Catelyn would take a while to send Maester Luwin.

"I can help," Rhaenys whispered, with a glance over at Ser Arthur then back to Robb and Jon.

Robb turned to look at her, Jon still clutching his hand. "Help? How?"

"Princess..." Ser Arthur started, coming over and kneeling at Jon's feet. "Are you sure?"

"They're not our enemies, Arthur," Rhaenys whispered, taking Jon's other hand. Jon's eyes widened but he squeezed it nonetheless. "If you two can keep this a secret..."

Robb stared at Rhaenys, seeing her look back at him. Her lips twitched up into a hesitant grin and a few curls of her black hair fell into her face. He had oft noticed that she purposely let her hair into her face, almost hiding her dark purple eyes. She did that when other lords and their families came to Winterfell to celebrate or for some other occasion. Most lords ignored her and some stared at her intently, like how wolves stared at their prey. Robb had noticed Lord Bolton stalk her in one of the corners of Winterfell a year ago and had to intervene, going to stand in front of Rhaenys. Admittedly, the daughter of Rhaegar had said she didn't need anyone to protect her afterwards but he had seen her shaking fingers.

"I can keep a secret," Robb finally replied, nodding.

"Even from your father and mother?" Rhaenys questioned, solemnly.

"Okay."

Rhaenys stared at him then dipped her head and started to speak words under her breath. They didn't sound like any language Robb knew and it didn't really sound like what Valyrian would sound like. But then Jon yelped and a crack sounded from Jon's hurt arm. A strong wind blew through the clearing and the weirwood tree above them creaked and almost seemed to glow. Robb shivered in the new breeze then just a second after it started, the wind stopped. Robb glanced down at Jon and Jon stared up at them, focusing more on Rhaenys, who was staring at them wearily.

"What… was that?" Jon finally asked, looking up at them from where he was leaning up against the heart tree. "My arm's healed!"

"Magic."

Robb's eyes widened. "Dragon magic?"

Rhaenys giggled and shook her head. "No. I don't even think that's a real thing. Though I did accidentally burn my left hand a few days ago."

"What? And you're not… You should have gone to Maester Luwin," Robb spoke, reaching out to grab Rhaenys' left hand and examining it. Her hand was small and warm and he felt it go still, looking up at her. Rhaenys' cheeks were red and her eyes were wide. He quickly let go and pulled back to sit across from her, with Jon in between them.

"I'm fine, wolf boy," Rhaenys remarked, bemusedly. They heard Ser Arthur snort behind them and Rhaenys turned around to glare at the former kingsguard. Arthur whistled innocently and turned around, to all appearances, giving the three of them privacy. "Us dragons tend to be immune to the heat."

"Wolf boy?" Jon repeated, looking up at Robb and sitting further up. "I like that nickname for you."

Robb laughed and glared at them both before tackling Jon. Rhaenys and Jon both laughed before the two boys started to tussle.