A/N: This story is written for two people very close to me - you know who you are - and I thank them so much for their continued friendship and assistance. I'm unsure of the update schedule for this fic, I'll be gone before too long, but I hope to continue to write and post whensoever I can find the time to do so.
Marna/Visenya = Female Jon Snow, the other characters should be self-evident. Thank you and have a wonderful day!
(If you're interested in Beta'ing for this fic, I would greatly appreciate it as I've recently lost two of my Betas to IRL matters.)
Feel free to join my Discord for updates, giveaways (for those who actively chat), early access and information, link on my profile. Without any more preamble from me, I hope you enjoy the story!
THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR THE KIND REVIEWS. We now get so many that it's impossible to respond to all of them, but each and every one of you taking the time to speak your support mean the world to me. Please, by all means, speak with me in Discord!
The juxtaposition between Aegon and Rhaenys had never been more immense than it was now. Visenya's two siblings already had striking differences in attitude, personality and looks, and yet, within her first few moments being within, Aegon seemed more at ease and free-acting than Visenya had known him to be across the entirety of the trip she'd spent in his company. Rhaenys' personality had yet to change, but Visenya suspected that would not hold indefinitely, for King's Landing and the South generally had a corrupting effect that every Northerner spoke of oft whensoever the South was mentioned, be it passingly or in great detail. While her mind might doubt what her father-uncle Ned had said, how could so many be wrong to such a significant effect?
Simply put, they could not. Visenya doubted so many of her kin and countrymen would speak falsely about her new home.
"Mother," Rhaenys said, speaking up as the royal family loitered at the very entrance of Maegor's Holdfast with dozens of guards still accompanying them; nearly all of the Kingsguard were present too. "Might I be the one to show Visenya to her quarters? I believe it would be proper, especially with her chambers practically being adjoined to mine own."
"Do as you wish — within reason — daughter," Elia said jovially, her eyes not once settling on Rhaenys; they were only for Visenya, and within them was disbelief and utter joy to a point that looked blissful. "I have said it oft, my sweet girl. This time, truly, welcome home."
Visenya dipped her head politely to the Queen. The woman had been ever so kind to her, and not once had she pressured Visenya into doing anything. If not for the Queen, the trip, the conversations, and how she felt about House Targaryen in general, all would be far more negative and thoughts about escape however costly they could prove to be would be the first thing on her mind. And yet, Visenya knew to do so was condemning the North and House Stark specifically, to a fate she could not so much as think for a moment about.
"You speak truly, my Queen," Rhaegar said as he stepped beside his wife and grasped her hand in his, the tumb of it caressing the back of the woman's slight hand. "I can envision no sweeter sight than our children together in their home, where they should be."
"We should send for little Daenerys. It would feel as if the Red Keep is populated once more," Elia said to Rhaegar, her eyes, still as of yet unmoving, focused on Visenya and the Princess that stood next to her.
Daenerys is the King's little sister… he has a brother too, one that most mention seems to be oft without a care in the world and lustful to such a point that the Imp of House Lannister pays tribute to him. I would not like to meet Father's — King Rhaegar's — brother.
Visenya was pulled from her thoughts by a hand, soft, but strong, and very incessant. It was of little surprise that the hand in question belonged to her older sister, half-sister, cousin or perhaps simply a kidnapper; Rhaenys Targaryen. The girl had proven to be as kind as her mother when it came to Visenya, but with Aegon, there was jealousy and possessiveness when it came to Visenya's time. Even with others, Rhaenys was cool or dismissive, and her eyes stayed only on Visenya and her person.
Truly, Visenya was lucky to bathe, dress and use the loo on her own. Those were but the only instances in which she had only her mind and her body — all others involved Rhaenys, even sleeping, lounging or walking atop the boat.
"You'll love everything here," Rhaenys said as they started away from the main group, two Kingsguard and a half dozen men in Targaryen-style armour following after them in silence save for the clanking of plate armour. "There's much history here if it interests you, and if it doesn't, fuck the history — the garden, the godswood, the various balconies and sights that one might enjoy… whatsoever you might wish for will be yours."
Visenya shrugged. She doubted she could wish away the internal confrontations and struggles about who she was, and she doubted further that she could wish to return to the North, where she preferred to be. The stench of waste, muck and other scents did not linger whence she came from, and the men, they had not the stares that those in the South had. It was improper, and the dresses she wore that were from the far larger Rhaenys still made her feel as if she were nude before them. It was unfathomable when Visenya heard that some Southron women walked around in such sheer clothing on account of the heat that the menfolk could make out every detail of their bodies; she would never do so.
"Is it overwhelming you?" Rhaenys asked, pausing. The men that were trailing behind them paused in sync with her as Rhaenys slid an arm around Visenya's waist and pulled the younger, smaller lithe girl into her side. "I apologise, my 'Senya. I've just… I've thought about your first day here so many times. What I would show you, what we would do together, how we would sup on whatever took our fancy, how we would bathe with the view of Blackwater Bay as the ships sailed past on journeys unending," Rhaenys sighed, her face suddenly tentative and unsure. "The fault is mine."
She shook her head at the older girl and placed her left hand on the hand that was wrapped around her waist. The fault laid not with Rhaenys, but with Visenya herself, for she was still tired from the journey and her mind had not rested once throughout the entirety of the trip. When sleep claimed her for the few hours it did every night, her mind was haunted with visions of the North, of the Starks, of a woman in a bloody bed, of swords that clanged together, and of a tower with felled men standing a silent, bloody vigil.
Suffice to say, sleep was but the one luxury she had yet to receive or be offered all that much in the last days of her trip to King's Landing. Perhaps it was the suffering, oppressive anxiety that one felt when they were pulled into a completely strange and new environment, or perhaps she was a Targaryen, and it took but a push from her 'family' for the madness that had been within her to gush out as a geyser might.
"I'm tired," Visenya finally said, her eyes staring into Rhaeny's matching set after a long silence. "It is not your fault. This all interests me. I would just like to rest, if you might show me to the Chambers you're to give to me."
Rhaenys shook her head when Visenya finished speaking and spoke even as she started them off on their trip once more. "I'm not giving them to you, and Mother and Father aren't either. Those chambers have always been yours, little sister. It is as I said before when first we met," Rhaenys' gaze fell to Visenya's, an intensity, no, a fire burning within the sockets of her eyes. "We have known you've existed, we simply had to find you, and now that we have, we're whole. I don't believe in the Seven, but upon resting as you said, I believe I will light a candle in the Sept as thanks nonetheless. If you'd show me, I would pray in the Godswood with you too."
Visenya blinked at Rhaenys, and then she couldn't help it, she smiled. The words were very fitting with the girl she had come to know and her kindness matched that of the Queen. It was as Visenya first thought when the sight of the Red Keep, and more specifically, Maegor's Holdfast, greeted her eyes.
This was to be her prison or her home, and it was for her to decide which would ring true. Mayhaps both would ring true for a time, but if they would not let up and she was free to do as she liked, save for returning to the North… she would have to make it a home.
With that thought in mind, Visenya allowed Rhaenys to lead her through the maze-like halls of the holdfast until a chamber was reached and she was urged within; for the first time since she had laid eyes on a Targaryen, Visenya slept alone.
It was some time later when Visenya rose from her rest, refreshed physically whilst her mind remained drained, by and large. Queer as it might be to say, Visenya had found it both exceedingly difficult to rest and to find comfort alone in the oversized bed despite the comfort and quality of it, the sheets, and the pillows. Rhaenys' company, which the older girl had insisted on, had spoiled her, and there would be a period of time that needed to pass before she grew comfortable with sleeping alone.
Visenya did hope it would pass by quickly and sans issues. The thought of tossing and turning upon the comfortable sheets, of staring at strange walls, stranger artwork or listening to birdsong until she allowed sleep to claim her was discouraging.
I wonder how long I was allowed to rest, she thought as she swung her legs out from under the warmth of the sheets. The carpets of varying designs and softness that greeted her feet were strange, with an almost false feeling in the comfort they provided. They did not come close to matching the furs of the North in any regard.
She would have to request and very politely at that, to have animal furs and pelts provided to replace the carpets that littered the ground. The designs were odd and overly ornate, whereas the beauty of nature and animals was absolute and unparalleled. It would seem the Southron people lacked any sort of taste if they felt the need to be so gaudy in apparel, architecture and furniture amongst other fields of craft.
Visenya huffed in distaste and moved over to the wardrobe that Rhaenys had pointed out in the brief and hastily given tour that she'd given before Visenya dove atop the bed. As Visenya suspected, it was filled to the brim with clothing of various sizes with writing in the common tongue that distinguished what builds were where within the wardrobe that could very well fit twelve of her body within. The majority of the clothes within were… lacklustre, perhaps that word was not correct. They were beautiful, the vast majority of them, but most were lacking in the skin that they would cover or in the thickness of the fabric. That was something that Visenya wasn't fond of.
There was a series of knocks, which, she wouldn't admit with pride, startled her enough so that she jumped when they sounded from the door to her new chambers. After a few seconds and when the knocks ceased, a man's voice rang out.
"Princess Visenya, Princess Rhaenys has come to visit," he said.
Silence. The door didn't open, and nothing else happened. Visenya had expected there to be more words that followed, anything, mayhaps the simple fact that she would enter or maybe an inquiry as to what she wished the man to do about Rhaenys' visit, but there was well and truly nothing that was added onto the man's sentence.
Thus, thenceforth, she waited for a new development whatsoever it might be. Visenya would wait in vain for a minute, perhaps slightly more or less, when the man spoke again.
"Princess Visenya, if you have risen, Princess Rhaenys has come to visit you," he said, again, his voice louder and with extra words added on; they seemed to know that she had slept. If they were expecting her to rise, however, she suspected she'd rested for longer than she'd thought she had; it was still bright out, so it was hard to tell, in truth.
Visenya swallowed nothing save for the saliva in her mouth and raced away from the wardrobe that had caught her interest. The dresses within did not fit her fancy, nor would any, she suspected. What she wore at the present would have to suffice, and so she moved in a near sprint to the door, whereupon reaching it, she opened it — after unbarring it — and peaking her head out, one eye concealed by her long, flowing hair that matched that of Rhaegar and Aegon.
Rhaenys was standing directly before her, and beside Rhaenys and on each side of the girl, were two men in the Kingsguard armour. They stood silently, imposingly, and to Visenya, menacingly; one was to be her guard at all times, and likely her captor if they thought she might flee.
"You are awake," Rhaenys said with a teasing lilt to her voice as she looked at Visenya. "I had thought you might be asleep, and if you were, I apologise for having woken you from your slumber. It wouldn't do if you missed your first supper with our family and it will soon be upon us, I suspect. I came to visit you before such a time came about, may I…?"
Visenya blinked, nodded, and stepped back and away from the door. Rhaenys pushed her way into the room within seconds, and the door was promptly closed and barred behind her. There wasn't so much as a word exchanged with the men that stood outside, and Visenya felt a flash of annoyance flash through her. It was not to be directed at any other person, for it was her own fault; she had not spoken to the man that had tried to address her twice. Manners dictated that she apologise.
"Might I guess that the dresses we'd originally picked out for you don't tickle your fancy?"
"They are," Visenya paused, her brows knitting together in a manner that was oft remarked to look adorable by others despite her complaints. She tried to find the words to answer Rhaenys, but the girl nodded knowingly, no words being required from Visenya for her meaning to get across.
"I had thought they might be too sheer or slight for your preference. You possess a beautiful body from the little I've seen of it, little sister, and were I you, I would flaunt it — I mean not to speak wickedly, nor do I suggest you should do so. You're simply beautiful, is what I mean to say, and it is surprising in a world such as ours that beauty is respected rather than used as a means to an end," Rhaenys gestured to the door. "When you wish it, we will go and retrieve a dress from my room. You'll find one that befits your standards, I'm sure."
Visenya ignored the remarks about her 'beauty' or how she didn't use it as others might and simply nodded in thanks at Rhaenys' offer. It would make her feel at ease at a time such a thing was sorely needed.
"Rhaenys?"
The older girl turned to look at Visenya and cocked her head to the side. "What is it?"
"When will the announcement be common knowledge?" Visenya asked, unease filling her as her mind suddenly shifted to such a train of thought. "You made mention earlier of House Tyrell amongst others. Will I be required to meet with them soon? On the morrow or in the coming week?"
"If you don't wish it, no. I would tell Father that you will do so on your own time, be it a moon, three moons or until your eighteenth nameday, should you wish it. As I said, you are my little sister, my sweet 'Senya — we have finally found you, and nothing will ruin that or come between us, this, I promise you," Rhaenys pulled Visenya into her arms, and the latter girl didn't resist.
The warmth of her older sister and the affection therein felt positively wonderful.
Rhaenys had done as she said, which came as no surprise to Visenya, The older girl had yet to break her word and as such, Visenya found herself in a dress that kept her modest and comfortable, and still did away with much of the Southron heat that Visenya already despised to the uttermost. If only winter came, and fast, for she doubted the time would ever come in which she would enjoy the inhospitable weather and the overwhelming heat of the sun; her fair skin would burn and turn to the colour of a tomato before too long.
Fortunately, she could stay indoors, hidden away from the many criminals of the South and the Nobles that would seek to use her as nought but a broodmare for their progeny. Visenya would geld the first man that attempted to lay with her, and her ability with the sword after training so long in the North, she imagined, would be more than up for the task against the Southron men. They were far slighter and smaller in build than the men of the North, Aegon and Rhaegar too.
Robb and her Father-Uncle Ned would beat the other two in a battle of strength in seconds.
"Here?" Visenya asked more steel and confidence in her voice than she felt as she came across a door with four men standing guard before it.
"Yes, Princess," the Kingsguard, Ser Jonothor Darry, her assigned Kingsguard, said. The six men behind him remained silent; they were men assigned to her 'personal guard' and were considered amongst the best of House Targaryen's standing guard. They were one of the few families that had a standing, prepared army, however small it might be.
Likely because they were among the only ones that could afford to do so. Most houses had to focus on stretching their food and golden dragons to cover expenses.
"Open the door, please," Visenya said to the two men nearest to the door.
They waited, hesitation in their eyes as they looked at her. There had to be words or standing orders that contradicted her, mayhaps a warning that had been given. What exactly, Visenya did not know. She took a tentative step forward, and when she did, the man on the right side of the door slowly, trepidation clearly in his action, opened the door to the chambers she wished so very badly to enter.
Visenya did not wait a moment more, she moved quickly into the chamber and as soon as he did, her destination was within eyesight. Rickon, her baby brother, baby cousin — it needn't matter what term she used, for in her mind, he was like a baby brother to her. There was no other person in the South with her that she felt such love and care for and not one that she was half as attached to. Rickon was not particularly close to her, that had been Arya and Robb, but his presence even if it hurt for him, selfishly put her at ease; she had a purpose, and it would be to take care of him as the Targaryens tried to bring her into the family.
"Rickon," she said as the door was closed behind her, likely by the Kingsguard offering her a token show of privacy. "I have come for you," she lowered her voice, "little brother."
He had been atop the sheets of his 'new' bed in a chamber that was far larger, more ornate and had grander pieces of furniture. Of course, as she had come to know by now, comfort and wealth were not in any way a replacement for family and the affection of loved ones.
"Marna?" he asked, rubbing at his bleary eyes as his small body rose to look at her.
"Yes," she whispered — yes, she was still Marna. "It's me. You are dressed well, little brother. Very handsome. Have you eaten anything today?"
Rickon shook his head but glanced at the table near his bedside. He did so fleetingly, perhaps with enough time for his little eyes to blink twice over, and then his gaze stayed on her again, this time, unmoving. "You won't leave me again, will you?"
Marna swallowed, her throat constricting, but she couldn't shake her head to indicate no. It was not her choice, nothing from whence the Targaryens had first laid their eyes upon her had been her choice. If it had been, Rickon would have stayed in the North where he belonged despite her selfish desire to have family close; there was no reason for her ill fate to befall another person she cared about. Her Father, Ned — Uncle — well… she had her concessions had been forced, but they had not been discussed. Had the King stolen land? titles? vassals?
Mayhaps more, or something else, the truth was she would never know unless she was told.
"I wish to never leave you, little brother. We are… guests of House Targaryen. You wish to become a knight, do you not?" Marna slipped atop the covers of the bed and moved closer to Rickon. When she did so, the small boy moved to her, his smaller frame pressing immediately into her lithe build; they cuddled as the children of House Stark oft did, intertwining with one another as a pack.
"Father said I could be whatever I want."
She smiled at those words. It sounded a lot like Lord Stark.
"Is that your desire, then?" Marna messed with his hair, the shaggy, unkempt red hair atop his head moving around easily and causing him to giggle as her voice took a teasing quality. "Ser Rickon Stark — Knight of Winterfell. It has a nice ring to it, does it not?"
Rickon nodded excitedly against her. "Please!"
"Whatever you want," she said, repeating Lord Stark's words.
"I want you to stay with me," Rickon said, a victorious look on his face as he looked up at her; she grinned and shook her head, kissing the top of his hair. He was a very clever boy. It was a good thing, for from what little she knew, it would be required of him in King's Landing. There were many and more that would seek to use him, to betray him, to mu— no, her mind would not allow her to think such things.
Suffice it to say, Marna and Rickon would continue the pack tactics of House Stark. It was necessary.
Visenya had entered, and as she reclined in the bed with Rickon, it was Marna that stayed.
"Well, isn't this a sight?"
Visenya sat bolt upright and looked at the source of the voice. Rhaenys had somehow… no, Rhaenys had entered Rickon's chambers quietly. After doing so, the Princess had sat in the chair nearest to the bed, a goblet of wine in her left hand and a platter of food — fresh — on the table beside her.
Rather than respond to the other girl, Visenya's eyes fell on Rickon, her baby brother. The boy was still pressed against her, his head resting upon her bosom and his small arms wrapped around her as best they could in a way that mirrored Rhaenys' typical possessiveness. He was asleep, without care and free from the troubles that had been plaguing him since her 'Visenya' revelation.
"Quiet, please. Rickon's sleeping and I wish not to wake him," Visenya said, gesturing to the sleeping boy at her side.
Rhaenys cocked her head, amused, and then she dipped her head once. "Leave him to rest, we must sup soon. You'll need a dress and more, little sister. This is to be your first meal as Visenya, after all, and Mother will wish it to be one that is remembered and celebrated."
Must I?
There was no part of her that wished to leave her little brother. He was so content, so happy, and so safe with her.
"Visenya."
Rhaenys' one word told her that was not possible. She had to go with her, and so, with a heavy heart, Visenya slipped out from under Rickon, ensuring that his head rested atop one of the feathery pillows. If she were to leave him as was seemingly required of her, she would ensure his rest would not suffer for it. When she ensured that all would be fine with him, she moved away from the bed, her feet sliding across the carpet, until she was near Rhaenys.
"Let us not linger," she said to the older girl.
There was no reason to stay idly in Rickon's room. He would rest, and she would do what was required of her; mayhaps she'd even enjoy it once she was far enough away from her little brother.
"As you wish, little sister," Rhaenys said, standing and brushing Visenya's closer arm with a feathery touch.
And they were off, moving expediently to Rhaenys' quarters with two Kingsguard and a dozen Targaryen household guardsmen. It took but a few minutes to reach Rhaenys' quarters from Rickon's, and when they did, the door was opened, the two sisters stepped in, and it closed.
Or rather, it would have, if not for the pale, strong-looking hand that stopped it.
"Sisters," came the charming voice of Aegon, his face coming into the two girls' line of sight when he pushed open the door further, enough so that he could step into Rhaenys' room. "I have not seen you since first we arrived. I had heard that Visenya was resting, and later that she was visiting Rickon Stark — it would seem luck was with me, for I've finally found you both."
"Luck's a queer way of saying little birds, little brother," Rhaenys said sweetly, her words and the expression she wore implying there was a depth that Visenya couldn't understand in the older girl's words.
Aegon huffed, pulled the door shut behind him and promptly ignored Rhaenys, his eyes on Visenya alone. "Is it as you imagined it to be? The Red Keep, I mean. I do hope it's not stifling or intimidating. It's to be your home."
"It is beautiful, Prince Aegon, thank you," Visenya responded immediately, bowing her head in the customary way as she deferred to the ground rather than continue the intense gaze he had fixed her with.
When she finished, a frustrated noise came free from the boy's mouth. He seemed unhappy with her words, enough so that she nearly apologised for whatever had given cause to offend him. The Targaryens were a hard bunch to understand.
"Manners, baby brother," Rhaenys said with that same sweetness lacing her voice as she wrapped an arm, long and strong, around Visenya's waist. The older, stronger girl pulled the smaller one into her side and Visenya felt thankful despite the dagger of discomfort that seemed to sink into her whensoever Rhaenys forced contact with her. "Visenya was weary from our travels the same as I. Perhaps your questions might have waited until our supper."
"I wish to see her," Aegon said with a shrug, his steps loud and heavy and telling her that he was moving closer to her and Rhaenys' position.
Rhaenys huffed and her arm tightened around Visenya's waist. "Could you not wait? Are you so bothered by the fact I've gotten to know our little sister that you feel the need to intrude upon our time together?"
"If I allowed you to pass the time you claim as your own with Visenya, I would have none for myself. Visenya is as much my little sister as she is yours, moreso, perhaps, if you compare our looks," Aegon was close enough that she could see his feet, and Visenya lifted her eyes then, violet striking violet. "You know of our aunt, Daenerys, don't you?"
"I do," Visenya replied, peering at the Prince before her from the cover provided by a curtain of her long hair.
"Splendid. She's to arrive within the sennight. Daenerys does so desire to meet with her newest niece. You'll be very fond of one another, I'm sure. You two seem similar in more ways than most could imagine," Aegon smiled politely at her then, a tentative, cautious quality upon his face as he reached a hand out to grasp her free one.
Visenya stayed still, Rhaenys' arm wrapped around her waist as it was, and allowed Aegon's hand to grasp her own. It felt very different to Rhaenys'. There was a bumpy quality to the back of it as if the veins were swollen, the size of his hand was larger still than the older girl's, and the general underlying strength… it was worrying. If he so wished to overpower her and do to her as Targaryens did to their siblings, as she had been told the old King did to his Queen, she would be powerless to stop him.
When that thought struck her, Visenya shrank away from his touch and further into Rhaenys, who she determined was the lesser of the two evils. The older girl was possessive and strange, she seemed to look at her with eyes that Visenya could not oft read, but she was decidedly better than Aegon as her mind raced with Targaryen habits embedded in her mind thanks to the Starks and other Northern company she had kept.
"You startle our sister," Rhaenys said, a smug quality to her voice as she positioned herself behind Visenya's body before pulling her smaller frame against the front of her larger one. The older girl's arms wasted no time, wrapping around Visenya's body and ensuring the lithe girl was firmly embraced.
Aegon looked not at Visenya then, but at Rhaenys. "I will have words with you when next we meet for our lessons, sister."
Rhaenys shrugged. "Do as you wish."
With that, Aegon smiled one last time at Rhaenys before he moved back to the door he had entered through. When it was closed firmly behind him, Rhaenys left her position and barred it shut, ensuring no other visitors would enter sans her express permission; permission that was unlikely to be given based on her covetous nature.
"Do you dislike Aegon?" Visenya queried, the question almost getting stuck upon her lips were it not for a flash of boldness.
"Gods, no. If not for him, I doubt I would be sane," Rhaenys said immediately as she returned to Visenya, leading the girl over to two chairs that were very close together and sitting down once they reached the plush furniture. Visenya followed suit as Rhaenys continued speaking. "You must understand, we had been told many times and oft that you existed, that you were always meant to and that, without you, we would be incomplete. There is more to the story, though it is not my place to say — now that you're here, I can't find it within myself to let you be even if his desire is nought but to covet you as I've been doing."
"I don't believe I'll be leaving of my own volition for quite some time," Visenya pointed out, her tone with strings of sadness and displeasure therein.
Rhaenys smiled at her, though the look failed to reach the Princess' eyes. "We mean not to imprison you."
"But you have," Visenya said, unable to help herself; Rhaenys' arms found her again, this time tighter than before as if she feared Visenya could flee.
It was an impossible task and one that, even if she could, would not for a myriad of reasons. One of the strangest was an innate desire to learn about herself, her heritage and the truth of the matter of her lineage. Was she a Stark, a Targaryen, or nought but Marna Snow?
Marna's life had been far easier, and without the issues that she now faced as Visenya.
"How could we leave you in the North after learning about your existence?" Rhaenys asked, the words slowly leaving her mouth as her gaze intensified. The very question seemed to bother her in a manner Visenya couldn't characterize. "It would be impossible. You were always meant to be here, with us, with your family. Had you been raised with us, you would not see our ways or persons as queer. This would be your home and the North, a land with which you have a minor connection."
Visenya remained silent as her eyes went downcast. To have this conversation was pointless, for neither she nor Rhaenys would change their wants and desires. Rhaenys wished not for Visenya to be free, and Visenya wished not to be stuck in King's Landing even if she did wish to know her family and if they truly were, without a shadow of a doubt, truly her blood.
Silence save for the occasional song of a bird and whip of the wind.
"I love you, 'Senya — Father does, Mother does, Aegon does, Daenerys does," Rhaenys blinked rapidly after such words flew from her mouth. "Please do not despise us so for returning you to your home… please do not leave us, little sister."
As Rickon had done, Rhaenys buried herself into Visenya's frame.
As Visenya had done, she tried to provide the best comfort possible despite the circumstances.
The battle within her waged on as she had come to see first-hand the effects it had on Targaryen and Stark alike; it made it no easier to determine who she was, and far harder for her to decide who she wished to be. Lord Stark, if all the Targaryens had said was true, was in the wrong for taking her despite the love and life she'd had thus far. But, was it not equally wrong to take her as the Targaryens had from a home she'd known and with siblings she had been raised with?
Perhaps that question would be one that Maesters were the most qualified to answer.
"Mother and Father have huge quarters, 'Senya," Rhaenys gushed as the girl, now happier and full of that same fire Visenya was so used to seeing said as she pulled them through the maze-like halls of Maegor's Holdfast.
"All here are exceedingly large," Visenya responded as her eyes went from door to door, examining the rooms they passed. She tried to take in every last detail that she could, for the furniture was so dissimilar from the North and the ornateness of nearly every object, archway or even the doors themselves felt gaudy… though that wasn't to say every sight she saw lacked beauty.
If she were to be told this was the most expensive, most beautiful and most extravagant place in the world, she would believe it. There was still something to be said for the lack of plantlife or material from the wilderness; pelts and furs, trophies from hunts and ancient tools were just as worthy of the title art as any statue or tapestry of the south.
"We never saw your old chambers — are your new ones pleasant? Would you like changes?" Rhaenys seemed nervous or anxious. Perhaps she'd taken Visenya's comment negatively.
"All is well, you and the rest of the family have my thanks for seeing that I'm cared for with such finery and detail," Visenya said demurely, smiling at Rhaenys in a way she only hoped could convey her thanks. "If I feel I'm left wanting for anything, I will do as you said to and speak with you or Elia."
At that, Rhaenys smiled and the worries that had marred her beautiful face were washed away as dirt was by water. "Never forget we'll get you anything you desire, little sister. Mother might have said it, and if not, I will say so now or risk reiterating her words. We have years upon years to make up for, and so when next your nameday comes around, the gifts will be most lavish."
Visenya shifted uncomfortably. She was very used to receiving a few gifts, never more than five for her nameday, and those, she doubted, would be near what House Targaryen gave her.
"You needn't ge—"
"My girls!" Elia said from the archway ahead, where she stood dressed in finery that hugged her body with jewellery adorning her and her hair flowing freely, beautifully, down her back. If Rhaenys were to look as the Queen currently did when she grew up, she would never be called anything save for fair or gorgeous.
The Queen wasted no time whilst Visenya observed her, and in a scant few seconds, the woman was before the two girls. Her arms, thin and slight as Visenya's were, wrapped around the two Princesses. The embrace was tight, but not overly so, and when the woman pulled back her face was alight with love and happiness.
"Mother," Rhaenys said politely, her voice that of a Princess and less of a sister.
Visenya took notice and only just stopped herself from curtseying to the woman. "Mother," she responded seconds after Rhaenys, Elia's smile growing wider and the jovial expression nearly as bright as the sun the Dornish coveted.
"You two look beyond beautiful today," Elia said to them, her eyes rapidly blinking and a small sniffle coming from the woman. She stared at the two girls for time enough that Rhaenys felt the need to clear her throat, and afterwards, she ushered the two girls into her chambers whereupon they were greeted by the other two members of the family; Aegon and Rhaegar.
Each looked very handsome and seemed dressed in a manner that was truly befitting royalty.
"Daughters, welcome," Rhaegar said, his back straightening and his eyes matching those of Elia's; awash with happiness, the stress lines of his face gone and his shoulders sagging as if the weight of the Seven Kingdoms was no longer felt.
Aegon stayed silent, his eyes only widening for a few moments before he blinked himself back to sentience. Visenya's gown was, perhaps, more visually appealing to the menfolk than she did so enjoy. It showed the most cleavage she had ever dared to throughout the entirety of her life and that had been at the behest of Rhaenys, but still, her figure was hidden well enough away and the small clothes ensured no secrets would be sold.
"I dare say, Father, Mother, the Seven Kingdoms, the entire world — none are worthy to see Rhaenys and Visenya together," Aegon finally said, his typical 'gallant' and 'charming' qualities finally shining through his initial surprise.
"My daughters are beautiful, you speak the truth. I fear we'll need to create a Maidens guard if your reaction is anything to go by, Aegon," Elia said in jest, teasing Aegon and smiling at the two girls once more.
Rhaegar nodded once, seemingly in agreement. "Such a decision would not be without merit. The Tyrells and the Lannisters especially will try and make a play for our Visenya, and I wish not to have to handle them. It is bad enough that Lord Tywin and Lord Mace remain in the guests' quarters, for undoubtedly word has reached their ears of our newest family member."
"Tyene, Obara, Nymeria, we could trust them, Father. Uncle Oberyn, I'm sure, would also be willing to defend our honour if the need arose, especially if the Lannisters were to be involved," Rhaenys said with an almost eager tone in her voice.
The Dornish and the Westermen don't love one another, nor do the Dornish love the Reachmen, if I remember well. There are many intricacies and feuds between houses and peoples, though Father said many of the South was not a matter of importance for my studies.
Visenya squirmed. If the topic grew to encompass other Southron houses, it would be as if they were discussing topics the Maesters did so favour, for she would be without understanding.
"An idea for another time," Rhaegar said, gesturing for the two girls to come forth. "Step into the light, daughters. The flames flicker too oft for my eyes to view the beauties you have become in detail and I wish for nothing more than to see my girls together as they should have been."
Rhaenys grasped Visenya's hand, and Visenya stepped forward in sync this time rather than allowing herself to be pulled.
Rhaegar smiled upon their doing so, and he nodded, his eyes moving to Elia. The woman went over to him, took a seat beside him, and then he whispered to her something that made her smile wide and nod her head animatedly as his arm wove around her. Whatever the King had said both appeased her and made her smile once more as she looked between her children — Visenya included.
"Visenya," Elia said as the girls lingered at the edge of the table, Rhaenys rubbing soothing, comforting circles on the smaller girl's back.
"Mother?" Visenya responded, the world still feeling unnatural, and yet, when the woman smiled at her, queerly correct. It was an add combination, that was certain, but one that she knew she could grow to appreciate. The Starks had been lucky to live their lives in the presence of each parent.
"Won't you sit betwixt Rhaenys and I?" Elia padded the chair to her right and then looked at the one opposite of the one she'd just indicated. "If you'd prefer, you could sit betwixt your Father and Aegon."
Even if Visenya wished to do the latter, Rhaenys' look and Elia's joy were too wonderful to let dissipate. Still, she knew it was the King who wielded the power and eventually, Aegon that would do so in his stead. It would be unwise to stay close only to the female members of her adoptive family.
"Might I alternate?" Visenya asked, earning a curious set of gazes and one that looked vaguely wounded from her older sister.
"How do you mean?" Elia asked, cocking her head in a manner that was welcoming and without that look of betrayal that was firmly entrenched upon Rhaenys' face. In truth, it wasn't half as horrible as she made it out to be, but there was, without a doubt, a flash of annoyance or jealousy that Rhaenys seemed to feel.
"I would like to sit betwixt the four of you. Mayhaps the main course between you and Rhaenys, and dessert, between Father and Aegon… would that be allowed, my… Mother?" Visenya queried, her old instincts returning as uncertainty filled her under the attention of the four Royals. She had recovered before she said Queen, though the slip-up was obvious if one paid attention.
"You needn't permission to do something as thoughtful and sweet as that," Elia gushed, her voice with a coo-like quality as she looked at Visenya.
Rhaegar's smile grew. The King seemed pleased. "Your manners are like that of Daenerys, Visenya. I look forward to when first you meet her — Elia spoke truly too, my sweet. You needn't our permission to choose who you dine beside."
"Thank you," she responded quietly, a smile peaking out from behind a curtain of her flowing hair before she finally took to the seat Elia had first pointed out. The one set firmly between her and Rhaenys.
When she did so, it was not Aegon who rose to push her chair in, but Rhaenys. Aegon had made to stand, 'twas true, but Rhaenys had been nearer to her and did so before he had even completed the action of standing from his chair. Under the gaze of Aegon, Rhaenys went so far as to kiss Visenya's hair in the fashion she herself had done for Rickon earlier when she'd visited her baby brother.
This time, however, Aegon's look was genuinely annoyed, and risking a glance at Rhaegar and Elia, the two seemed displeased, perhaps worrisome. Visenya suspected her presence was the reason for the quarrel, for there had been no mentions that had reached her ears nor those of any Northmen that spoke of problems betwixt the Targaryen siblings.
"Wine, little sister?" Aegon asked after he swallowed, took a breath and fixed her with that smile that likely made many a maiden swoon. Were he not her brother mayhaps she would think him handsome, instead, it had little effect save for her eyebrows wrinkling together as if Robb had offered her flowers; Winter Roses were to be the only exception she would take from him.
"Yes, please," Visenya answered when Aegon blinked at her, his attention not once going to anything else.
At that, he grinned, dipped his head, and filled her glass to the brim with a smile on his face. He did the same for Rhaenys, Elia, and for Rhaegar before finally filling his own glass.
"Dornish red with a few modifications at the behest of Oberyn," Elia said when she noticed Visenya examining the liquid. "It has a touch of spice, as all things should. You'll find it tasteful if wine is your fancy, and if not, we will have a pink brew from the Reach brought from the cellars, one that many a young woman likes for its sweetness."
Visenya looked at the woman with a small dusting of red on her cheeks at being found out. She wished not to appear spoiled or ungrateful for what they had provided, only, wine was not oft something that she appreciated. In the North, it was mead and ales, and the best ale she had ever tasted had come from one of Winterfell's own brewers.
"I don't mean offence, just," Visenya nodded toward her glass. "Wine was not oft our drink of choice."
"No offence was taken, my sweet. Mayhaps if you wish it, we could have a wine-tasting day on the morrow or one of the days beyond to see which makes you find pleasing and which you wish to avoid. If you don't wish it, you need not even drink the wine before you. Rhaenys would empty it with ease, wouldn't you, gluttonous daughter mine?" Elia asked in jest, one hand reaching forward as she reached across the table to pinch at Rhaenys' cheeks.
Rhaenys, in turn, playfully slapped her mother's hand and laughed as the woman continued to toy with her teasingly. Visenya couldn't help but smile at the older woman's antics and how Rhaenys responded; Lady Catelyn and little Sansa would never have acted as these two were even if it was only family present. They always had to be the epitome of propriety no matter what. The fact that the Queen and Princess could do so with seemingly no care in the world was awe-inspiring and giggle-inducing.
"Visenya," Aegon said as Elia settled back into her seat and Rhaenys tried — and failed — to sneak a second glass of wine. "I'd like to get to know a bit more about your tastes — might I ask what your favourite dessert is? I'm sure we could have it made for you within the hour."
Visenya swallowed, unsure of how she should answer. Lady Catelyn tightly regulated the sweets intake of Sansa, Arya and herself despite the bastard status she'd had as Marna. No man would wish to have a fat wife, she would claim. Thus, they would only have sweets on nameday celebrations or special occasions in which Lord Stark would specifically say that he desired them for the family. If not for his direct intervention, they would have honeycakes or apple tarts, and seldomly, lemon cakes.
Each was a rarity and farthest from her mind, especially in remembrance of taste.
"I prefer anything with honey," she said. "Though I will say many and more desserts I have yet to taste. If you have anything you might recommend, I would be very happy to try them. I do not know if it is proper, but perhaps sweets might go with wine during the tasting?" Visenya looked at Elia and was all smiles, and when the older woman noticed her attention, she nodded.
"Wine and sweets go well, sweet girl. If you are fond of cheese and bread, they too go well with wine," Elia's smile shifted to Aegon, whereupon doing so, the woman nodded at the same time Visenya jolted in her chair at sudden contact upon her right thigh.
"Is all well?" Rhaegar asked immediately, his silence not unattentive, but focused on her. He was a man of few words, but his eyes never wandered and his attention never wavered.
"I am well," she responded, smiling shyly at him; it was hard not to. He was the King, and while he claimed to be her father, perhaps rightly at that — more than likely rightly — but it was still so strange to think of him as such. Elia, at the least, had shown much effort and was sweeter and gentler than Lady Catelyn had ever been.
Rhaegar settled back in his chair, pleased by her answer. "Would you like to speak on the morrow, daughter?"
About what?
Visenya cocked her head at him, the angle ensuring that her hair fell forward as a curtain might so as to conceal her face partially. "What might we speak about?" she paused, weighing the options in her mind, and then she let flow the word that was strange to direct at a man that was not Eddard Stark. "Father?"
The King's face lit up as Elia's had when first she had called the woman mother and every time since then. "Everything. There is much to discuss now that you are home, and I wish to do so before the courtiers and Small Council moves to speak with you. I am sure you have questions related to the North as well, but I mean not to ruin our evening meal as a family — I fear my wife would be cross with me for moons if I did so."
Elia nodded, her eyes sharp as she prodded the King's side, much to his amusement. Visenya pursed her lips to prevent herself from laughing at his serious words. It would not be proper, nor Princess-like of her to do so. She was a bastard no more.
"I will do as you say," Visenya answered when he raised his eyebrows, likely wishing to extract her answer.
Rhaegar nodded once, pleased, and then he motioned with his eyes to Rhaenys and Aegon each. Whilst he wished to speak with her, he seemed more patient and steady-handed whereas the rest of the family was very enthusiastic, to say the least.
"On the morrow then, my daughter — ah, perhaps before the festivities of the night are over, we too might share a dance."
Rhaenys' eyes and Aegon's each snapped towards the King. He laughed when he saw them do so and spoke again, more for Visenya's sake than either of the other two Royal children. "Yes," he said. "Ser Jonothor will play for us a song. It has escaped my mind to ask, but, Visenya, do you sing? You certainly have the voice for it."
"She does. Visenya's voice is fairer and lighter than most," Elia agreed, an encouraging smile sent the smaller girl's way.
In response, Visenya felt her cheeks heat up worse than any amount of alcohol could ever cause. "I…" she started, swallowing as she noticed Rhaenys and Aegon were gazing at her too. "I know not the songs of the South, for I was only ever taught those of my hom— of the North, my mother's home."
Lyanna Stark. The woman she'd never come to know after being filled with so much hope by Lord Stark; if there was ever any reason to despise the man, it would be that.
"Any would do," Elia encouraged.
Rhaegar agreed, nodding his head with a smile that was just as encouraging as Elia's as the man leaned forward with a goblet in his hand; he set it aside as soon as he was comfortable.
Visenya opened her mouth and promptly closed it. The meal in and of itself was enjoyable and sans pressure or issues, however, the thought of performing for them still felt unnatural. She had very tentatively and with much trepidation, come to think of the Targaryens as family, 'twas true, but they lacked the intimate relationships required for her to be comfortable to do much and more. In fact, she doubted that she would train with Aegon in the yard as she had with Robb or attend seamstress lessons with Rhaenys… if the Princess did so.
"I wo—" was all that Visenya got out before an arm wove around her from the side and pulled her close.
"You need not sing, sister. Father has a voice that could make any gods weep, I believe they were trying to see if such talents found their way to you — I fear Aegon and I each couldn't hold a tune if it had a handle for us to grasp," Rhaenys said with levity, her grasp and words doing much to ease Visenya's worries.
"Rhaenys does not lie," Aegon said gruffly from across the table, a leg of chicken in his right hand and a bun with butter in his left.
Elia tutted. "Neither of you has poor voices for songs, and Visenya, you needn't sing for us if you don't wish to. Rhaenys was right, we were simply curious to know if your voice was as beautiful when you sang as it is when you speak."
Ser Jonothor entered shortly thereafter, and when he did, Rhaegar moved away to a harp. The man's long, gaunt fingers danced across the instrument with surprising dexterity and finesse, and when the gruff, older knight began to sing a song for the tunes the King played, Visenya felt mystified.
It was a wondrous post-dinner break, but dessert, she selfishly had to admit, could not come quicker.
"I should have sent for an artist, Elia," Rhaegar said, the words sorrowful-sounding as his eyes trailed Visenya until she sat down. "Would that I could have this moment immortalised upon a tapestry and hung near to our bed for the rest of my days."
"We'll have one commissioned later, my love. Our three greatest treasures could be put on one together — would it not be a sight?" Elia winked at Visenya when the girl acted nosy, leaning toward the King and Queen to better hear their words over the discussion Rhaenys and Aegon were having.
Visenya blinked and blushed, thoroughly caught. They would do nothing to her for wishing to listen in on a conversation, but she still expected to have her hand slapped or for a remark to be sent her way. Whensoever a jibe could be had by Sansa's sept or, on occasion, Lady Catelyn for her past life's misbehaviour, the chance would not be wasted.
"Visenya?" Aegon asked gently, his voice similar to that of Rhaenys'.
She turned away from the King and Queen and looked at the older boy, the Prince, her brother. As hers would oft be when she fell too deep into her cups, his face was flushed red and there lay a smile, light and sloppy, upon his face. Her nose wrinkled at the sight, but still, she paid the Prince his due attention.
"Aegon," she said in deference, her eyes avoiding his out of an innate intimidation atop the discomfort his presence had; her thoughts and what little she had been told about the incestuous ways of the house did not help. Her education may not have been perfect, but Visenya had been told frequently about the grievous offences the family committed regularly.
"Would you allow me the pleasure of returning you to your chambers when the meal is over and our parents wish to rest?" Aegon paused, and when Visenya's eyes found his, fear etched across his features, he rapidly shook his head and held out a hand as one would to a wild animal that needed care. "I don't mean to do anything untoward or dishonourable. Rhaenys has had much and more by way of time with you than I, and whilst I shan't oft admit it, perhaps I too can grow jealous."
"Are you trying to take my 'Senya from me, baby brother?"
Visenya grinned and withheld a giggle at Rhaenys' butting into the conversation. Aegon, meanwhile, huffed and looked over at the older Princess. "Visenya is not yours alone, Rhaenys, and we're each aware that 'twill be you that shares a bed alongside her this evening and many more."
Smartly, Visenya chose to remain silent as the two half-heartedly squabbled, no real heat in either sibling's tone of voice.
"I suppose I'll allow you a small share of time with her so long as you don't interrupt our rest or insist upon her filling her days starting upon the morrow. Mother agrees with me in thinking that Visenya should be given plenty of time away from the courtiers while we aid her in understanding how poisonous they can be," Rhaenys yawned and reached across the table, taking hold of one of Visenya's hands. "I hope my words don't cause you to worry, little sister."
Southron men are not so troubling, Father told me to geld any that dared lay a hand upon me.
Visenya shook her head, cocked her head and smiled, brushing her hair out of her face so that Rhaenys could see said look. "I am without worry."
"I think our Visenya has a few secrets of her own," Aegon quipped, grinning as he leaned further towards her still. His expression was very curious, with underlying tones of amusement at her sudden boldness. "Mayhaps we'll spar one day. Father would allow it if you so wished to."
In truth, Visenya was not overly fond of sparring or combat. It was unnatural to an extent, but her Father had insisted that she be able to defend herself and it did so pass the time better than being stuck atop a tower with little to do. Anything would beat the tower she had called home for so long a time, and when one added in the Stark children, loneliness in a room matched not the outdoors and their company.
Still, perhaps it would be wise to continue if only for her assured safety. It would not do if she found herself set upon without the knowledge or expertise in defending herself.
"One day," Visenya agreed. Before that day came, Visenya would most certainly dine oft with the Queen, Elia, and afterwards, learn from the older woman whatsoever she could in regards to the courtly life. Dishonesty, betrayal, cunning… the South was said to be rife with all manners of poor traits and poorer people.
The fault lay not at the feet of the Small Folk, but their Lords and Ladies.
"I'll gladly spar you," Rhaenys said, not allowing silence to linger as it began to. "The winner could retrieve a small token from Visenya, what say you, little sister? Would you like to see Aegon handled thoroughly?"
Aegon snorted and rolled his eyes. "Our sister speaks grand words, but last I recall, we ended in a draw under the watchful gaze of Uncle Oberyn. And to think you've had a couple of years over I in terms of training… where's it gone?"
Visenya kept her eyes down, towards her plate, and as the two playfully bantered she allowed a smile to slip. The two went back and forth until the last of the sweets were done away with and Ser Darry returned, intent on singing for the Royals so that they might dance.
She danced with Rhaegar, the King. She danced with Aegon, her brother. She danced with Rhaenys and Elia, the two that she had latched onto from when first their journey began; it was at the insistence of the two Targaryen women. Visenya could clearly see that, whilst this scenario was not an ideal one to her, everything could be far worse in many a way.
Then again, she knew not what the King had demanded of Lord Stark or the North as a whole, nor was she vaguely knowledgeable of the politics and 'games' the Southron Nobles played.
At the very least, the eve was fruitful and the wall she'd built up had a piece removed; the Targaryens could wish for nothing more.
Visenya woke with a yawn and a start. In her dreams, she had been falling from a great height, one with a view of nought but sand, the hot sun beating down on her with a vicious heat and precious little in the vastness to shield oneself from it. It was a horrid dream to have, for Visenya found the heat overwhelming and the vast emptiness, disturbing.
The girl wrinkled her nose when the smell of sweat and the sensation of wetness greeted her mind as it woke from its rest. In the night, and alone, she had sweat much and the sheets, as a result, were drenched — it had been so heavy she had, at first, thought she'd had her moon's blood come early. Thankfully, it was still not due for a sennight, mayhaps slightly longer… by the Old Gods she was not eager to experience it in the South. The North had already seen her lounging outside for as long as she could so that she might be able to control the heat flashes.
She sighed and gingerly whipped away the sheets, the material heavier and the shade darker. As soon as the crisp air of the morning greeted her body, it sagged, for the coolness was very pleasant and the scent that had first greeted her was scattered on the wind. In the latter's place, the scent of the water and flowers from her balcony replaced it. Visenya nearly jolted when a sudden song sounded, but when her eyes found the source of the noise upon an ornate windowsill, the cause for worry was banished; there was a bird she had never before seen, one that was a dull red colour and small in stature.
It was beautiful, regal-looking, and sang a haunting song.
When her feet swung around to touch the cold stone floor, the bird flew off, as startled by her as she'd initially been by it. Visenya giggled at its departure and hurried after it so that she might see where it had fled to, but it was gone when she reached the balcony. All was not unpleasant, however, for now, she had the time to gaze without company at the vastness that was King's Landing from the balcony of her chambers; the vision of the water with ships upon it as ants to a hill was awe-inspiring. It was easy to imagine the number of lives upon the water in her field of vision was as large, if not larger than all of Wintertown.
The South was very populous — some even claimed ten and one-hundred thousand souls called the Capital home. If even half as many did, it would still be far larger than any other city in the known world.
Visenya enjoyed the beauty of the flowers, the vision of the city and Blackwater Bay, and the many people going about their lives as specks for moments uncountable, and then she moved away. It had been interesting to see the masses from a place of power rather than obscurity, but she knew that be she a bastard or a Princess, she would never interact with any of those she witnessed.
It was an oddly comforting comparison.
In her mind, Marna and Visenya each wielded little control over their own lives the more thought she put towards it. The Starks, or the Targaryens, neither truly wished to leave her be to do as she so wished.
At least the Targaryens told me of my mother. Lord Stark had taken me as his own, and so he knew who my mother was and chose not to tell me. Mayhaps, had she lived, I would have been raised here with her and knew of the Starks only stories or from occasional visits.
Visenya moved toward a chair that was near the fireplace, where only the past evening, Rhaenys had laid a series of her older dresses. As she slipped out of her small clothes, sweat-ridden and old as they were, she paused. It would be improper and far from sanitary if she dressed without washing, but her room had not a basin filled with water.
With a sigh, she redressed in both her small clothes and the gown from the evening past. She would call to the Kingsguard who stood vigil beyond her chamber's entrance. Lest she needed Rhaenys or Elia, the man would likely know how and what she need do for her desires to be met.
Tentatively, her feet padded across the room silently, touching carpet and stone alike. As was oft said of her, the steps she took were silent and without the sound of bare feet slapping noisily. If anything, what was loudest of her movement was the rustling of fabric, that being in and of itself a testament to her silence, a feat which could only compare to her riding or innate manners.
"Ser?" Visenya practically whispered as the door creaked open enough for an eye to peer outwards; she wished she had in her possession a dagger or mayhaps a shortsword. "Excuse me, Ser?" she repeated louder, the Knight turning his head and looking at where her single violet eye peered at him.
"Princess," the man said, bowing his head respectfully as the six other men stood up straighter, two of them — younger — trying to take secretive glances her way. "How may I be of service?"
Visenya swallowed. With so many menfolk present, the thought of discussing her desire for a bath felt queer. They would know that betwixt a nude her and them, lay a door, singular and without a metallic reinforcement. She swallowed again, a blush settling prettily upon her pale skin as she rose her nose ever so slightly.
"I would like a basin and hot water to fill it brought to my chambers, Ser… if that is the normal way with which bathing is done here," the latter half of the words she spoke were said quietly and with uncertainty. It was, perhaps, obvious to some people how all might bathe, but the Targaryens were Targaryens.
How was she to know if they had a dedicated room or did as most others did?
The man nodded his head, stoic and the epitome of expressionless. "At once, Princess."
Visenya smiled at the man, small dimples forming as her blush increased. She brought a hand up to wave at the man. "Thank you, Ser," and then the door was closed and she stepped away from it.
It was her first order sans a true purpose that she had given. She could not compare it to her true first order, for when it came to her family, nothing would deter her, and regardless of what any person dared say, Rickon was her baby brother. He would always be her baby brother.
The door to her chambers received a series of knocks, and before Visenya could call to whosoever it was, the person spoke; she should not have been surprised…
"Little sister~" Rhaenys sang, her voice loud and pleasant-sounding. "I come with your tub, hot water, and most of all, myself. Won't you let me in?"
Visenya smiled, hiding a small burst of laughter before Rhaenys entered, and did as the older girl wished. As soon as the door was unbarred audibly, it was pushed open and Rhaenys entered with a series of maidservants on her heels save for the men it took to carry the tub; they were not servants, but soldiers.
"Good morning," Visenya greeted, her eyes shying away from Rhaenys' when she noticed the older girl's intensity.
"Good morning," Rhaenys returned, strolling over and combing a hair through Visenya's hair without so much as a thought. It felt pleasant, and when the older girl's fingers stroked her scalp, playing with her head as she was, Visenya nearly cooed. "How was your first true night's rest?"
"I mi…" Visenya trailed off, her eyes on the servants, them being the reason she paused in her speaking. It would not be good and well if they heard that she missed Rhaenys' presence beside her in the night. As Targaryens, especially two Princesses, who knew what they might say or spread around if she had done so?
Rhaenys grinned, waited for a few moments for the servants to finish their works, and then urged the small army of servants out expediently. The older girl followed after them, and Visenya, naturally, stayed firmly beside what had become her grounding rock; Rhaenys.
"My thanks to all of you," Rhaenys said to the servants. "Please, visit the kitchens and take for yourselves the time to enjoy a meal by my leave should any question you."
Visenya watched the exchange, most specifically, the lack of surprise on the servants' faces. That could not mean it was for show, instead, it seemed to be a common enough practice that the servants did nought but bow their heads and speak gratefully a unanimous 'thank you, Princess'
There was the sound of walking as the servants left… and then more walking, albeit heavier and noisier, and coming from the opposite direction; the entrance to Maegor's Holdfast. Rhaenys cocked her head, shrugging when Visenya looked toward her.
"Ser Jaime, Ser Oswell," Rhaenys said, gaining the attention of the two Kingsguard; Visenya remembered that it was Ser Jaime that had been rude to her. "My Mother and Father remain in their chambers, is that right?"
"Very right, Princess," Ser Jaime responded immediately, grinning winningly at his sworn brother.
"Aegon?" Rhaenys asked, the steps getting louder.
The man did not answer before figures at the far end of the hall appeared. Visenya stole but a glance before she moved behind Rhaenys and partially through the door; the men wore green and gold, and they were led by a man with a cane that seemed to have trouble walking.
When they drew closer still, the group of five, all twelve Targaryen guards formed a barrier with the two Kingsguard — and Rhaenys — before them. It took but a look for Visenya to stay rooted firmly where she stood, for the seriousness and distaste upon Rhaenys' face conveyed these were men that Visenya needn't come to know.
Not for the first time, and most definitely not for the last, Visenya was thankful for Rhaenys' presence. The girl's personality, especially the protective and jealous qualities, did seem to benefit her on occasion.
"Lord Willas. If you are headed to meet with the King and Queen, I dare say you missed your turn," Rhaenys said, a certain edge to her voice.
The man, Lord Willas, apparently, moved based on the shuffling of fabric. Words soon followed his action. "My most sincere apologies, Princess. I fear I am a tad bit lost, for it is only my father who visits King Rhaegar when the need should arise. Today, he was indisposed, but we felt it imperative to speak with the King as soon as possible when he called upon us."
"My Father will appreciate the sentiment and expediency in serving him. Allow me to send two of my Household Guard to show you the way," Rhaenys wasted no time and allowed not the man to speak again as she spoke loudly, ordering two men to immediately show the man the way he'd gone errant of.
He tried to say something, and Rhaenys spoke again. "I wish you a fine morning and a good conversation with my father, Lord Willas," and like that, Rhaenys parted the men and returned to Visenya's door, whereupon reaching it, she stepped in and closed the door to Visenya's chambers with an audible and forceful slam.
Visenya jolted at the suddenness and force of the other girl's action, and again when her arms, stronger and with a slight tremble, wove themselves around her lithe form.
"Rhaenys?" Visenya queried.
"The games have begun," was all the older girl returned as her grip tightened, her tone acid-filled and her grip more possessive-feeling than ever before.
Whosoever the man was, Rhaenys' mood had been ruined by him and his accident; Visenya would find out more later.