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 = 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!
Marna — as she refused to recognise herself as Visenya despite the wishes of the Targaryens — was far from pleased when she found out about the change of plans. King Rhaegar and his Queen, Elia, agreed as soon as they 'confirmed' her lineage, that it was necessary for them to return to the South the very next day. They had spoken at length with her and the two Targaryen children, so much so that all of them, Marna included, caught not an ounce of sleep through the dead quiet of the night.
They wished to learn about her, to converse with her, and very simply, to be near to her person. Not one of the four wished to let her out of their sight, and it was decided that evening that she would remain with, at the very least, one member of House Targaryen at all times… it was unnerving.
Marna was unsure of whether or not that was due to nervousness that she might flee or be stolen away, but what could she say? The King wished not to heed her words that she was a Stark, and should she speak any more about that family, her family, she feared what he might do to punish them for the offence of stealing her away from her supposed rightful family and 'poisoning' her opinion of House Targaryen.
"Visenya," the King said as he hesitated at the door to Rhaenys' temporary chambers. "We leave at the start of the evening, our destination, King's Landing. There is much and more I wish to say to you, to tell you, to do with you… I know I have said the words many a time by now, and I hope you hold it not against me — I love you, my daughter. I am so very glad to have you home, where you belong."
Elia, who had remained silent as the King spoke, smiled at Marna. "You are kind-hearted and thoughtful to urge mercy for the Starks. Lord Eddard erred grievously and broke trust beyond the ability to repair, but finally, we have found you, sweet girl," she bolted towards Visenya, her eyes watery, and her slight form pattering across the floor until she was once more by Marna's side.
Immediately, Elia's arms wound themselves around Visenya's equally as lithe build. Rhaenys, ever the emotional girl that Marna had come to know in so short a time, joined the embrace happily, and with a cooing sound.
"I love you, baby sister," Rhaenys said into her ear, the girl's voice soft with a lilt that Marna couldn't place.
All that she knew for certain after so long a time with the Targaryens, was that they did so love their physical tokens of affection. Aegon had been the most conservative, and he'd seemed awkward too, but he kept shooting small smiles her way, amongst other looks that made her feel… uncomfortable. She was no fool, she knew that the Targaryens married brother to sister; she would not, regardless of their wishes.
Elia pulled back, one hand cupped Marna's cheek and the other went to her hair with a petting motion as the woman looked at her with the utmost adoration and affection in her eyes. "Daughter," the Queen said. "I will treat you as if you came to this world of my womb — all that you need, want or anything that troubles you, no matter how trivial it might be, come to me, Visenya. There's so much to make up for."
"She'll have me too, mother," Rhaenys said as she pressed herself forcefully into Marna's other side, the girl's stronger, larger build far less sensitive and far more eager than the Queen had been.
"She'll have us all," Elia said softly before she pressed a kiss to Marna's forehead and withdrew across the room, to where the King stood with a look of contented peace.
"Goodnight, daughters," the King said, the latter of the two words sounding as if he was trying it out before he shook his head, a gleeful, yet sorrowful look on his face; it made for a queer combination even as he spoke again. "Goodnight, Rhaenys, and goodnight to you too, Visenya. My love to you both."
Elia echoed the words of parting, her voice far softer and matronly. It caused a sensation through Marna that she wasn't quite certain of. Lady Catelyn had never been horrible to her, but it went without saying that the woman had never quite acted the part of a motherly figure. She had done as good, mayhaps even better than most other women would when their man returned with a bastard in his arms. That alone was more than she could have ever dared to ask Lady Catelyn for.
As the door closed, Marna blinked and made to stand, her mind intent on taking her out of Rhaenys' chambers… until the older and stronger girl stopped her with nought but a hand on her shoulder.
"Where are you headed, 'Senya?" Rhaenys asked, her eyes intent on forcing contact with Marna's just as much as she was intent on staying by her side and in physical contact.
It was unnerving.
Marna swallowed, opened her mouth to speak, and then sat back whence she had been but a moment ago; on Rhaenys' temporary bed. "I forgot that I was meant to stay the night with you, Princess."
Rhaenys face was a mixture of disgust and a scowl at Marna's lattermost word. "Sister," the older girl stressed, her voice completely serious as her eyes — the very same shade that Marna's were — bore into Marna's. "You need not call father, King Rhaegar or our mother, Queen Elia. Aegon is Aegon, and I, Rhaenys or Sister."
"As you say," Marna deferred, forcing a smile despite the strangeness of the Princess's words.
"As you say…?" Rhaenys tried, a brow raised and a teasing expression on her face as she scooched backwards, up the bed, and pulled Marna up along with her.
For her part, Marna allowed the older girl to handle her. She was gentle, gentler than earlier at the very least, and there was little she could do to stop the girl. Not with two members of the Kingsguard outside of the door should she try and leave or lest she says something impolite.
"As you say, Rhaenys," Marna answered Rhaenys with a bow of her head as her eyes sought out the fireplace; anything to look away from the uncomfortable girl at her side. 'Would you like it that I should start a fire, Rhaenys?"
"Please," Rhaenys said with a scoff, pulling Marna closer at the same time she pulled the covers up and over their bodies. "I seldom get cold, for my body runs hot. If the weather grew too fierce in the night, I would not trouble my baby sister to light a fire — there are servants, and it is they that will do the work whilst you and I rest."
"We've not done anything too strenuous today," Marna said with a shrug.
"And we won't, not until we return home to King's Landing. There, you will attend the very same lessons that Aegon and I have had since we were old enough to start. Father will make you train with the sword, spear or mayhaps even the bow as well. That will make for a sight to see, I think," Rhaenys said as she made herself comfortable.
Unfortunately for Marna, Rhaenys' comfort was very intrusive to her own. The girl twisted their legs under the sheets, threw an arm over her centre, and pressed her front to Marna's back. They were so wrapped together that Marna half felt she had been taken captive; it wasn't the first time such a feeling had made itself known throughout the day either. They had said she would return to King's Landing with them. Not once had they asked for her opinion or what she thought, for even she knew that whatsoever she said would not matter to them.
She would be in the South regardless of her own wants and desires. Forevermore, lest something happened that changed her circumstances, she would be called Visenya and they would do whatsoever they could to make her seem the part of a girl that never was.
Marna exhaled softly, Rhaenys' breathing still energetic and frequent as her breath splashed across the slightness of Marna's neck. The other girl would not fall into the realm of sleep for quite some time, she was the most eager of the four Targaryens and that alone was likely a contributing factor to her being the one that was chosen to watch over Marna whilst the others slept.
"I know you mean to sleep, baby sister," Rhaenys said softly as the hand that had been under their pillows moved up so that it could revel in Marna's hair. "I mean not to disturb you or force myself upon you, but… selfish as it is to say, I need to. Father has spoken so very oft about how you were meant to be. We had heard so many tales of what he had hoped would come to fruition, about how we were meant to be some type of second coming of sorts. Aegon and I thought him mad, and yet, here you are. It is hard to believe and my mind has not stopped racing since the revelation only the prior evening."
At those words, Marna swallowed. What could she say back to the Princess? That she was happy for her that King Rhaegar was right in her existence? That all of his hopes and tales and visions would come true?
She swallowed. "I hope I don't disappoint you or the others," was what she settled with.
When Rhaenys' arms tightened around her, she thought that her words had been wrong.
"Never worry that you'll disappoint us, baby sister," Rhaenys said at the same time a feeling of creeping wetness and a catch in her words alerted Marna that the older girl was, once again, letting her emotions get the best of her; she hated that her own throat tightened and that her mind turned even more conflicted than it had already been. "You're finally where you belong, and we'll never let you leave again."
I had thought as much, Marna thought, resigned.
If she had thought she would ever be free to live her life and do as she pleased from the moment the Targaryens had arrived, that one sentence confirmed the reality of her situation. She was theirs, and the Starks would rely on her to quell and ease the retribution that they would try and enact upon them.
When Marna woke, it was to a degree of heat and feeling of pressure upon her that she had never felt before — Arya had never radiated heat, nor had the small girl weighed even half as much as Rhaenys did. That was the culprit behind those feelings too, for Rhaenys, the Princess of the Realm and one of the most beautiful women in the eyes of men, was wild-looking and snoring upon Marna's slighter build. She had told the truth the previous night as well, for the girl was giving off so much heat that it simply had to be unnatural.
She was a Targaryen, after all, and who else but them would have an internal fire to keep them warm in the extreme cold?
Marna tried to pull herself away from Rhaenys' body, but she failed to do so. The other girl's grip around her torso and the manner in which she had entangled their legs made for an impossible situation. In other words and simply put, Marna was trapped until Rhaenys woke from her slumber.
That lasted for nearly another half an hour, a half an hour with which Marna was left looking up and at the ceiling, and when that time was up, Rhaenys rose not of her own volition.
One set of knocks, soft and without an announcement, came from the door nought but seconds before it was opened equally as softly. Marna needn't guess who lay behind those actions, for the person therein made herself known and strode into the room with all of the confidence of her station; she cooed and stopped her walking for seconds when she took in the sight of the two girl's wrapped together as one in the bed.
"There is no amount I wouldn't pay to have this vision captured on a portrait or tapestry," Elia said with a shake of her head before she moved to Rhaenys' bedside, whereupon doing so, she sat down and brushed the girl's hair from her eyes with one hand and did the very same action — sans the eyes portion — to Marna. "Rise, Rhaenys, and a beautiful morning to you, Visenya."
Elia's voice cracked when she spoke Marna's second name. It was almost as if the previous day and night had meant nothing, and the woman was intent on allowing her sadness and contempt to shine through once more.
Rhaenys groaned, pulling Elia's face back into a smile and Marna's thoughts away from that previous evening.
"She is always late to rise," Elia said softly as she smiled down at Marna, a look of affection and adoration on her face that was almost blinding… until a smirk and look of silliness overrode those emotions. "My daughter she may be, but it matters not, for whoever causes her to rise too early in the morn is always the target of her ire for the duration of the day."
At that, Marna smiled. It was mayhaps the first genuine one she had given, and it was of no surprise that it came from the Queen. Her words in regards to Rhaenys reminded her of Arya and how angry she could become should somebody wake her before she was ready. Mayhaps the Targaryens weren't entirely evil and incomparable to other people.
"Do yo— we still mean to leave this evening, Que— Elia?" Marna asked, her words stumbling over one another as many a correction need be made.
The Queen would have to settle for Elia too, for 'mother' as she wished to be called was still too difficult a word to say for Marna. She had never come to know the affection or love of such a person, and the only two she had known that could be her mother, were deceased regardless of the person she believed; King Rhaegar, or her Father.
"We do," Elia said with a simple nod as she continued to pet Marna's long, silverish hair. The last vestiges of dye would soon be stripped, and when her hair was true and silver as they wished to be, gone would be Marna and in her place, the girl that they claimed her to be.
It was an odd feeling, odd beyond belief, and saddening. She wished to remain in the North with the Starks. The poison of the South was well known to her, the dangers present betwixt the Targaryens and the other families were too many, and finally, no Stark ever did well below the Neck.
All can agree on the lattermost fact.
"You needn't worry, sweet girl. Your father has brought a force so large some might call it an army, and more will soon be joining us as we march to King's Landing. Many more, should he have his wish, and the first of them will come from White Harbor. There's to be a tourney in your honour," Elia paused for a breath as she smiled again, just as beautiful, caring and sweet-looking as every look she gave, but her latter words weren't to be.
"Mama," Rhaenys groaned, the one word taking nearly ten seconds until it was said and done. "I wanted to sleep in. Visenya's warm and comfortable, and far softer than Aegon… a few more hours? Please, mama?"
Elia laughed and gently pushed Rhaenys off of Marna, and after doing so, she tutted at her eldest child with a playful glint in her eyes. "If your father and I let you decide, Visenya would remain in the bed until she had her twentieth nameday. You must rise the same as she must, for we mean to leave this very day. Your father wishes to return home so that he can make an announcement for all of the Realm to hear — Visenya is here, she is ours, and we are back home where we belong."
Immediately, Rhaenys was out of bed, the sheets — plentiful as they were — found themselves tossed aside to the fur-covered floor and the older of the two Princesses was at her luggage.
Marna looked at the other girl strangely. She had only just risen, and yet, she had found a store of energy large enough to move so quickly and so precisely. Rhaenys was odd, but that was in hand with the thoughts of all in regard to House Targaryen.
"Rhaenys misses the sun and sea," Elia said, offering up an explanation as she noticed Marna's expression. "I don't believe you've ever gone to the South, have you, Visenya? We spoke not of any travels you might have had the previous evening, forgive me. What point is the furthest you've travelled?"
"South, or overall… Elia?" Visenya asked, catching herself before the start of 'Your Grace' exited her lips; it was troublesome to correct. All of her life she had learned how to call a King and Queen or their children, and now, those rules were set aside, for she was claimed as their family.
Elia's smile, if such a thing was possible, grew when Marna failed to make any sort of mistake. "In general, child. Have you gazed upon the Wall? Have you set your eyes upon the sea or witnessed the bogs of the Neck first-hand?"
At every question, Visenya shook her head, and upon seeing Elia's look of urging, she gestured about the room with a fond look upon her face. "I have seen Winterfell and Winter town, the hills and the forest, the Godswood and the small pools of water by it."
Rhaenys spoke before Elia could. "You've never left the area around Winterfell?" she asked, her voice and expression one of disbelief even as she held up a myriad of dresses betwixt her two arms.
"Lord Stark," Marna started, her words slow and carefully chosen lest she called the man 'father' before the two Targaryen women. "He had said it would be dangerous outside of the surrounding area, and only with guards was I allowed to have those viewings lest a kidnapper or raper try and take me."
Elia and Rhaenys shared a glance that Visenya wasn't able to decipher. She wasn't certain that she wished to even if she had been able to do so. Whatsoever they thought of Lord Stark, of all of the Starks, would be at odds with her own opinions. She had been the one to live with them, eat with them, learn with them and spend the entirety of her life up until the point they had claimed her, with them; their opinions were piecemeal in comparison to her own.
There was silence for a time and trepidation between the three women as they looked at one another. It was clear to Marna by Rhaenys' face alone that she wished to say something, it was clearer still when she opened her mouth a few times only to close it. Finally, and after what felt like an age had come and gone, Elia swallowed audibly and spoke.
"It matters not what you have seen, and what you haven't. With us, Visenya, you'll have your first view of the sea and your first of the Neck," Elia tapped the younger girl's neck as she said that, her atypical smile on her face and one that matched forming on Marna's face thanks to the woman's joyous nature. "Should you wish it, I'll take you to Dorne and introduce you to the rest of our family."
"Uncle Doran would love her," Rhaenys said as she flung onto the bed a number of dresses before she moved to yet another luggage case; one filled with jewellery, Marna thought.
I hope she doesn't intend for me to wear any number of those silken gowns, Marna said inwardly as she spied them in the brief lull of conversation. They're all too slight and would leave little to the imagination. I prefer my body hidden from the gazes of men.
"Oberyn would love her, and his daughters would be set on teaching and meeting our Visenya," Elia said as her face lit up, likely at the very words she was speaking as she envisioned them within her mind.
On and on that conversation persisted. Neither of the women seemed to wish to speak about her father — Lord Stark as they called him — or how he had kept her near and around Winterfell. Instead, and so that they might plan as Rhaenys moved around and Elia stayed in contact with Marna, they spoke about Dorne.
Marna learned about the communal pools — called Water Gardens — where all might escape the heat of the day, she learned about their fashion and cuisine, their love for all and lax attitude in regards to the rest of Westeros, and finally, their passion. Elia had said that no person was half as passionate as the least passionate person throughout all of Dorne.
There was little Marna could argue, for, before they had arrived, she had never so much as seen a Dornishman. The only thing that Marna knew with absolute certainty, was that she would be avoiding the Water Gardens of Sunspear. It mattered not if they were kept to them for the duration of any visit she took, she would never bathe with others around. Her modesty meant far more to her than that.
"I think I've got it," Rhaenys finally said, the silence save for her movement and muttering finally finished as she gestured for Elia and Marna each to come to where she stood.
Elia stood, and rather than move immediately, she waited with one arm outstretched for Marna. The girl could do little else other than swing her legs off from the mattress and rise, taking the Queen's arm and joining to the woman's side as she marched them over to her daughter, where they saw what Rhaenys wished for them to see.
It was a dress, baby blue in colour and more modest than most that Rhaenys had withdrawn. It was trimmed in a silver-type material, there was a broach amongst other jewellery set atop it and fashionable boots by any standard on the ground before it. In Marna's mind, the clothing before her was the fanciest she had ever seen. It would come as no surprise to the girl if she learned that it cost more than any Smallfolk made in one year's time.
Elia made a noise of thought as she regarded all that Rhaenys had laid out, and something else. When Marna turned to look at the woman to see her expression, she swallowed; the Queen was dividing her attention between the finery and Marna's body.
"I could never imp—" Marna started, hoping that she might talk her way out of dressing in the clothing that Rhaenys had provided.
"You'll never impose upon us, sweet girl," Elia said as she pulled the girl tighter against her, her left hand — the further of the two from Marna — came over to swipe errant strands of hair from when she had stood up back, back to their place behind her ear. "We'll remove the last remnants of dye from your hair, and when you leave, you'll leave as a Princess."
If Marna had hoped to keep her hair dyed the near-black colour that it had been under her father's supervision, she should have known better. Mayhaps there was something to be said about letting your natural shade shine through for the world to see. It would certainly be far less tedious.
"Is there anything else that would see me covered more so than that?" Marna asked as she pulled a face at the dress. "I mean not to disrespect you, Rhaenys, nor you… Elia. I'm used to clothes that show not an ounce of my skin, and so to have so much available for others to see is unnerving."
"In the South, such clothing is scarce, for the heat of the day is far too unbearable under layers of fur or heavy garments. You'll come to see that as soon as make it to the Southern edge of the Riverlands," Rhaenys said, her face devoid of any negative emotions at Marna's words or look.
Elia nodded at Rhaenys' words. "She's right, child. In the North, it is wise to dress so that the cold can't take root and turn you ill. In the South, especially Dorne, the opposite is true — dress too warm or heavy, and the sun will turn you sick," the Queen smiled at her as one might do to placate another. "We can have a second layer to further conceal you should you wish it so. Your comfort matters more to us than anything else, least of all fashion."
"Thank you," Marna said quietly, a short-lasting smile on her face as the door to her chambers opened once more, this time, a group of servants with a tub and buckets of hot water making their entrance. They weren't around long, not with Elia sending them away as soon as the tub was filled and an order for more hot water to be left at the door was given.
Rhaenys clapped giddily and moved towards Marna and the Queen. Her feet, bare as they were, were so loud that even walking atop the pelts of animals as she was, noises were made. "Finally!" the Princess exclaimed.
"Finally?" Marna parroted, an odd sense in her mind that relayed just what the bath was for; she had a feeling she wasn't going to be going about the process herself. Not this time.
"What Rhaenys means," Elia prefaced with a look of a warning shot to her daughter before the older woman turned her attention back to Marna with a soft look on her face; it was as constant a presence on the woman's face as the Heart Tree was in a Godswood. "Is that we have wanted to see your natural looks since first we laid eyes on you, Visenya. Your beauty despite the unnatural colour of your hair is beyond what most can dare compete with."
Slowly, Marna nodded in understanding. "Thank you, yo— Elia," she replied, flustered at the genuine look on the older woman's face and the matching one on Rhaenys'; there was something else in th— her sister's eyes too, a look that was unreadable.
"It'll be natural in time, sweet girl," Elia said, unphased by Marna's slip-up.
Silence fell when the older woman was finished. The room, large as it was, began to fill with a thin layer of mist as the trio looked betwixt one another. Marna shifted, her eyes drawn to the bath where the water was gradually cooling. When the silence was broken, finally, it was by Marna's own voice.
"When I'm finished, should I call out to the two of you? Will you be by the door?" she asked, swallowing and wringing her hands when neither woman made to move.
Again, as from earlier, there was a silent look shared between mother and daughter. Marna could tell there was much and more that was shared in that one, meaningful look, though she couldn't begin to contemplate just what that was.
"We'd like to clean your hair for you," Elia said, her voice soothing and her touch upon Marna's shoulder fleeting as if it were nought but the wind. "Would you allow us that pleasure? Since Rhaenys' birth, I've taken care of her hair and washed it for her… selfish as I am, I'd like to do the same with you, especially with the importance of this first time."
Marna remained silent as she thought about how best to answer the Queen. She could deny the woman her desires, and yet, if she did so, Marna was aware that she could order it so. There was a lingering doubt in her that said the Queen was too kind, that she wouldn't do so and that her father was wrong about Elia above all of the others; it was traitorous to all that she had heard, but it was growing with haste as Marna came to know the Queen.
She cleared her throat, and in response, the eyes of the other two women fell back onto her. It was unnerving to see her very own eyes staring at her with a cocktail of emotions swirling around within them.
"May I… May I stay dressed, at least partially so?" Marna asked as she pulled on errant strands of her hair and nodded towards the bath.
Elia nodded as soon as the last word was free from Marna's mouth. "You could stay as you are now if you wished it — your flesh is your own, I need not see it, nor does any other person. If they do, should they do so without your permission, you need only utter a word to me and we'll see the problem resolved," the older woman pressed a kiss to Marna's head and gestured with her head for Rhaenys to come to them. The girl did so immediately and sought out Marna's other side as they moved towards the bath. "Thank you for indulging me, sweet 'Senya."
Marna could do nought but smile at Elia's words, and when the time came for the Queen and Princess to rid her hair of the dye she had used for so long, she had never felt so cared for in such a physical way, ever before. They were gentle, they spoke in whisper-like coos and complimented her more than any person had ever done before.
Elia's last words before she left for Marna to continue alone, would stick with her for quite some time.
"When next I see you, I'll see Visenya Targaryen — I wish above all else that your mother could have seen you as we will."
Marna wished the same.
"Where is she?" Aegon, the Crown Prince's voice asked loudly as Marna walked alongside the Queen and the Princess.
There would be no feast or celebrations, the trip would be of no true duration. They had found her, they had confirmed her lineage, and they had claimed her; she felt the part of a Wildling woman, and the Targaryens, the man that had stolen her.
"They'll be at a loss for words," Elia whispered into her ear, the woman's voice giddy and conspiring whilst her visage was one of joy and contentment.
Rhaenys tightened the grip she had on Marna's left hand, and finally, the trio turned the last corner, the Royal Caravan finally coming into their vision. The King and Prince were at the front of it, atop beautiful, armoured steeds and with three men of the Kingsguard in the immediate area.
When the presence of the three women was revealed, their own Kingsguard and other guards trailing behind them, Aegon went silent. The King swallowed as she drew closer, not stopping once as she moved with the two Targaryen women. It was when she was nought but a dozen or so feet away that she could see him blinking rapidly, and with another few steps, he raised the back of his hand so that he could wipe at his eyes; first the left, and then the right.
Aegon, all the whilst the King looked at her in awe, sorrow, and utter joy, was silent. There was nary an emotion on the boy's face, short of shock. He lacked the wetness in his eyes or the happiness on his face that the King had, but as Elia had said — and the woman seemed to know far more than just how her family would react — the two men were silent.
That dragged on until, after nearly a minute of silence, the King slipped off from his horse with impressive fluidity and made his way over to her. In response to his doing so, Marna looked down, her eyes downcast at the ground and the only proof that he continued towards her was the clanking of the armour he was dressed in. It stopped at the same time his mailed boots came into vision, and slowly, as he had done when first they met, one hand grasped her chin so that he could raise her face. When he did so, it was with the utmost care.
"You look as your mother did — as we picture you might when we spoke of the daughter we would make," The King said, swallowing many a time and with a voice filled with emotion. "Our thoughts did little to credit how perfect you would be… welcome home, Visenya."
He hugged her when he finished speaking. She was pressed — in Rhaenys' dress — against the man's armour. All of the decor, the rubies, the print; all of it on his armour did little to discomfort her as he held her in his arms. He was strong, and as a King, there was little safer a place she could ever be.
Mayhaps my father, he truly is, Marna pondered inwardly. Father never hugged me so when I was younger. When he did, it was only when he was deep in his cups or on nights when he desperately missed Aunt Lyanna or Nuncle Benjen. Mother…
"I apologise," the King said as he finally drew back, his arms remaining on her. "You must forgive an old man. We sometimes forget ourselves," he finished with a chuckle, forced as it was, as he finally stepped back.
Not once did his eyes leave her. It was much the same as Elia and Rhaenys when first they entered after she had bathed and dressed.
"You're far from old, my love," Elia said, ending the moment and slotting into the man's side as she regarded Marna with all the love that she had ever shown the girl. "Our Visenya is beautiful, truly. I can picture it now how all of the Lordlings will pine for her attention — mayhaps we'll need to find her a dozen Sworn Shields or more to fight them off."
"I'll do it," Aegon said, the boy finally speaking as his horse moved around impatiently or nervously.
Rhaenys, now back at Marna's side, snorted. "It is I that will keep Visenya away from the grasp of any that would take her from us after we've finally found her," she turned to look at Marna. 'You'll stay with me for a time, won't you? We could do whatsoever we'd like in my chambers."
The King cleared his throat, and immediately, silence fell as all of the heads of House Targaryen — and Marna — turned to look at him.
"You will have all the time so wish to and more in the wagon. I have spoken with Lord Stark, and terms have been made, and so now, we leave" the King regarded Visenya then, his eyes pointedly on her before he continued speaking. "We return South, to King's Landing, and we shan't be alone."
Elia stood up as tall as she could and pressed a kiss against the stubble of Rhaegar's right cheek. "I wish you would ride with us."
"As do I, my love," Rhaegar said before he stole a kiss from the woman's lips. "I ride at the front as I always have and always must. I intend to make up for my absence when we make camp. Nearly six and ten years it's been since our Visenya was taken, and so there is much time that must be made up for."
"I've already started," Rhaenys said, her voice surprisingly challenge-filled… until Marna noticed it was directed at Aegon rather than the King.
The King must have noticed too, but rather than scold Rhaenys or say something to quell an argument before one should arise, he spoke to the Crown Prince alone. "Should you like to, Aegon, you could join them in the wagon. I would not fault you, nor could I blame you should you wish to spend time with your sisters and mother."
Marna chanced a look from out of the corner of her eyes at Rhaenys' face when the King spoke. She had her nose raised and a smug look on her face, and not one second later, Marna was pulled — rather forcefully — into the much larger girl's side. It wasn't entirely unpleasant, nor was it entirely pleasant.
Aegon seemed to scowl at some point, for when Marna looked away from the Princess and back to the Prince, he looked unimpressed and bothered. "I ride at your side, Father," the Prince said from atop his horse. "As you said, in the evening is when I'll make up for all of the lost time. Rhaenys and mother will surely share her with us by then."
"I'll not keep your sister from you, but I can't promise you time alone with her. I've finally learned my third child is here, and so I intend to smother her with all of the same love I've smothered you in since first you came into this world," Elia said, her tone filled with sass as her free hand fell upon her hip.
"Poor Visenya," Aegon quipped.
Elia narrowed her eyes at the much taller, broader figure of her son. "Don't think for a moment due to your size and title, my son, that I'll not spank you as I once did when you were younger. You came from me, and if need be, I'll remind you of the power a mother has."
Rhaenys whispered into Marna's ear at that point. "Mother and Aegon aren't truly arguing, they're jesting. They have their own relationship — mine and yours will be far sweeter, Aegon's is a front for the men. He thinks it impresses them."
"Come now," the King finally said as he pressed one last kiss to Elia. "We make for the Neck at a break-neck pace."
Marna thought the urgency was a jest, but as the journey began and she found herself tucked alone save for the company of Elia and Rhaenys, she learned despite the wagon that it was no jest at all. They moved with haste, and as Winterfell finally fell out of her view, she remembered something.
The Starks had not wished her a safe journey or any form of farewell. She hadn't seen them since the moment the Targaryens took her away from them.
Marna swallowed and rubbed incessantly at her eyes as she looked out and into the surrounding woods of the North. If either of the other women saw it, they didn't say anything as they stayed engrossed in a conversation she was a silent partaker of. Her father, her brothers and sisters, all of them had not been so much as one final look at her, much less any words of goodbye.
I did this for them so that they might be safe. I shan't disappoint them, and I must find out the terms with which the King spoke of. If it is unfair to them, I will see it righted howsoever I can.
One last time, and as the air grew too cool for her to have the window near her open, Marna looked into the woods. There was no going back, not that there had been a chance since first the Targaryens had stepped into Winterfell's courtyard. Had she wished to flee, the time with which aid would have been given freely was gone.
With that, Marna Snow was gone as well, and finally, with her hair revealed and more finery on than ever before, she truly was 'Visenya Targaryen' in every way. Mayhaps only with that, it would be easier for her to think of herself as a new person, for she knew that should she continue to think of herself as Marna, the pain would be too great; she missed the Starks, and soon, she would miss the North itself.
"We've been stuck in here for hours," Rhaenys said with a groan as she stretched, one arm falling around Visenya's shoulders while the other tapped incessantly against the fabric-covered wood of the wagon. "When will father halt the caravan and make camp? Should he not do so soon?"
Elia shook her head. "When first we stop, it will be only to swap horses with those that go on unused in the back. He wishes to ride hard and fast away from Winterfell, away from the North in general."
"Why?" Rhaenys asked as her right arm around Visenya's shoulders began to knead and massage the smaller girl.
Visenya was so very happy that Rhaenys had asked the question, for she herself had wished to do so but feared what Elia might say. They would be foolish to trust her, no, mayhaps trust wasn't the right word; they knew better than to share everything or anything of substance with her so early in her time as Visenya.
She was never meant to be a Princess despite what they might say, and so she would have to train oft and attend many a lesson to fix the issues that could arise otherwise.
"Your father is very… cross, with Lord Stark. They spoke whilst we spent time with Visenya — Aegon was present too, as was Lord Stark's heir," Elia said, her words chosen carefully even to an apolitical and not overly perceptive Visenya; she had seldom experienced others outside from House Stark or their immediate and most trusted men and women. "There was a series of concessions agreed upon for the sake of peace and reparations. One of which is travelling with us at this very moment."
Visenya's interest was immediately piqued, and after swallowing, she spoke. "Who did… who did Lord Stark send with us?" she asked, stopping herself only a second or two before she called 'Lord Stark' her father.
It was the easiest way to annoy any of the Targaryens, most of all, the King. Should Visenya call any of them brother or sister, or Lord Stark her father, they would grow very cross, but it was never directed at her. Well, she was certain a portion of it was, but they didn't want to scare her off just yet.
Or maybe they're all truly that polite, and father lied. Lord Stark didn't even wish to tell me that the Targaryens were coming to claim me as their family, or who my mother was or my true father… it makes sense. He has not the silver hair or purple eyes that I possess, and as Rhaenys said, I was hidden away as if I was already stolen.
"Are you well, my sweet?" Elia asked, concern evident in her voice as she leaned forward and rested the back of one hand against her forehead.
Slowly, Mar— Visenya nodded and smiled as best she could at the Queen. "I am," she answered. "Sorry for worrying you. This is all strange to me. It feels as if it's nought but a dream and when next I wake, I'll be in my bed with my hair dyed black and my old furs on."
"Never again," Elia said in a tone that was meant to be reassuring, but with two simple words that made Visenya wince. The older woman frowned, and Rhaenys' hold of her grew tighter.
"None of it is very fair, baby sister, but we're here now. All will be as it should have been, and soon enough, you'll be experiencing everything that you should have. I'm sure if you wish it, if you truly wish it, father will allow the Stark children to come South and see you — you'd like that, and if you'd wish it so, I'd make father allow it," Rhaenys said, her words confident-sounding and doing more to put her at ease.
"Well said, daughter," Elia said quietly as she leaned back in her seat.
Visenya, for the first time, pressed herself further into Rhaenys' side. Strange as the other girl might be, and a Targaryen on top of that, she was the one that Visenya felt most at ease around. Mayhaps it was because they had slept together, or maybe it was the girl's personality and love for physical affection; whatever it was that Rhaenys had, Visenya was immensely thankful for it with every foot further they grew from Winterfell.
Elia had been right. They had ridden through the darkness of night, but with so many torches that it seemed as if the Night had never truly come. The King truly wished to make his way away, and for good reason, as Visenya had found out just who the other person was that was travelling with them.
Her baby cousin — brother — Rickon Stark, had been taken to be a ward of the Crown. He would be raised in King's Landing, and whilst she felt terrible for him that he had been taken away from their family, she was thankful for his presence; he would not be alone, for she vowed to keep him close by.
Well, she vowed to do so silently.
At some point, the call of sleep had taken her and she woke up hours later to the same, rhythmic bumping of the wagon. Her head had been resting against Rhaenys' side, for the height disparity between them was too great for the smaller girl to rest her head on Rhaenys' shoulder.
Rhaenys, for her part, smiled down at Visenya as she woke; Elia was doing much the same, not that such clarification was needed.
"Good morning to you, baby sister," Rhaenys said, the older girl biting her bottom lip as she brought up her free arm to move the many wild strands of Visenya's silver hair from out of her face and mouth. "You slept as if you were a rock — was I comfortable?"
Elia snorted but remained silent. Visenya wished the older woman would have spoken when she realised she had her face pressed not only into Rhaenys' side but one of her rather large… breasts too.
"Well, little 'Senya?" Rhaenys urged with a playful lilt in her voice.
Slowly, Visenya nodded and moved away ever-so-slightly. "You're very soft… thank you for letting me sleep, and sorry for falling asleep against you," she said politely, the epitome of manners as she had been taught.
At that, Rhaenys and Elia frowned in unison; the two were nearly clones save for Rhaenys' rounder, larger features and purple eyes.
"I was jesting, there's no need to apologise. I would have you sleep on me rather than a bed whensoever you grow weary. We would have cuddled and bathed together nearly every day when we would have been babes," Rhaenys looked over at Elia then, but she reaffirmed her grip on Visenya's shoulder and kept the smaller girl close, lest she tries and moves to the opposite side of the bench.
"When we stop to make camp tonight, would you like to see your cousin?" Elia asked, changing the subject away from the uncomfortable nature the previous one had and filling Visenya with a sort of hope she desperately hoped wouldn't be taken away.
"Yes, please," Visenya answered, her voice as polite as it had been when she had spoken earlier. "I'm sure he'd be happy to see me even if my hair's different than from when last we played."
Rhaenys shrugged. "You're more beautiful now than you were before, and I half thought that would be impossible."
Elia rolled her eyes and caught Visenya's with her own when she was finished. "Careful of my daughter, sweet girl. I dare say with your beauty and how covetous she is of beauty, you'll never be alone again."
At Elia's words, Rhaenys opened her mouth for a rebuttal, but the door to their wagon had a knock almost as soon as they came to a sudden stop. "My apologies, Your Grace, Princesses," came a man's voice. "It's time we change the horses so that we can continue until the sun sets. Should it please you, the King has said you can step out and stretch until the men have completed their task."
"Thank you, Ser Jaime," Elia called back. That was all that she said to the man, the one that Visenya remembered had been rude when first she met the Targaryens.
"Sister?" Rhaenys asked, two of her larger hands sandwiching the one of Visenya's that was nearer to her. "I know you've seen the North's countryside for nearly six and ten years, but would you like a moment outside?"
Visenya blinked at Rhaenys, and slowly, her eyes moved to the Queen's. The look she thought the oldest woman was one filled with trepidation, for Visenya meant to make use of the time if she were allowed. "Might I speak with Rickon… Mother?"
There was a gasp from Elia at Visenya's last word. The woman had likely not expected her newest daughter to address her as anything save for the Queen or Elia for quite some time — possibly forever — and yet, the newest member of her family had done so in nought but the second day. She needn't know that Visenya was doing so in the hopes of using that joy for personal gain.
"I can make no promise, 'Senya, but I will send Prince Lewyn to speak with your father," Elia said, and like that, she moved towards the exit after sneaking a side hug with Visenya.
The watery quality of Elia's eyes wasn't lost on Visenya, nor was the smile that seemed brighter still. It had to be the sun, Visenya decided, or the woman's Dornish routes. Whatsoever was the cause for her smile and how beautiful it could be, it wasn't one with which the North would ever see.
"Father probably ordered that you stay with us and us alone until we're home," Rhaenys said quietly so that only Visenya could hear it. Soon after, the door to their wagon opened wide, allowing light and a biting wind to greet them.
Elia spoke to a man, Prince Lewyn he had to be — he looked Dornish too under his helmet — and the man went off without any audible response. At that, the Queen looked back at Visenya and held out a hand. "Come, sweet girl," she urged as if Visenya were a wild animal that need be tamed, the gesture and hesitation much the same.
"We can stretch for a few moments at the very least. It'll be far better than staying stuck up in here," Rhaenys said, her words urging Visenya to go forth just as much as Elia's actions were.
Visenya extracted herself from Rhaenys' side, that side of her body growing cold immediately on account of the lack of the other girl's warmth and slowly moved towards Elia. Her legs felt numb, her head felt as if a fog had settled inside of it and thanks to the dress, she felt thoroughly exposed despite the additional layers that were on over it.
If this was what it felt like to be carted around as a Princess, she much preferred the life of a bastard girl atop a horse with a few men at her back. At least they would barely show their presence, and never would they look at her for too long as the many men and women of the Royal Caravan were doing.
Truly, as Visenya stepped down with aid from Elia and a man of the Kingsguard, she took notice of how eerily quiet and still the immediate area had grown. If she had not known better, she would assume this was the first time many of them had seen a person with silver hair and pale skin; the King and the Prince put that thought to rest immediately.
There was a cough from Elia at the same time that Rhaenys descended the few steps, and as if the woman was as magical as those within Old Nan's tales, all action resumed. The many guards trotted away or turned their heads away from her, the men that stood at the front of the carriage resumed their workings and even Aegon himself, who Visenya hadn't noticed, rode away and with speed.
"You made Egg get caught, mama," Rhaenys said with a chuckle in her voice as she pressed herself into Visenya's back, her hands immediately seeking out the smaller girl's hair as she toyed with it.
"Aegon could have journeyed with us had he so wished to, and had you not provoked him, daughter," Elia responded, rolling her eyes as she shot a second's long glare over Visenya's head and at the taller girl currently against her back; her eyes fell down afterwards, catching Visenya's with warmth and affection, the previous emotions gone. "You'll have to forgive Aegon, sweet girl. He's not as good at saying what goes on inside that mind of his, not like Rhaenys… you'll have to be careful she isn't too forward."
"I make up for Egg's reservations," Rhaenys said, speaking directly into Visenya's right ear.
It made the smaller girl shiver more than the cold ever had.
"You make up for his lack of troubles too," Elia quipped, as she gestured with her head for the two younger women to follow her. "All of them need excusing. Many weren't aware of why we visited, and their confusion that we're leaving so shortly after arriving must be beyond comprehension."
"We're Targaryens. They probably just think we've finally gone mad," Rhaenys jested.
"Enough out of you," Elia said with a shake of her head and a scolding look.
"Yes, mama," Rhaenys said, giggling under her breath, the sudden volley of exhales splashing against Visenya's ears much the same as her words had; it made a queer sensation rise up. One that had never existed before, for no person had attached themselves to Visenya as much as Rhaenys had.
"Ser Arthur and Lord Commander Hightower were the only two Kingsguard that knew, and of the Small Council, only Lord Varys was aware of our trip. You already know why Lord Varys was aware, darling," Elia said as the trio made it to a clearing filled with wildflowers and berries; Visenya knew the berries were of a type that couldn't be eaten. "Now that I think about it, he must be rewarded for his service to our family. His deed and those of his little birds may never be outdone in my lifetime."
Rhaenys nodded, Visenya felt the girl's hair and head, the former tickling the back of her neck. "The Spider deserves a juicy fly," she said. "Harrenhal? Is there another seat that we might afford to him?"
The look on Elia's face at Rhaenys' words was immensely annoyed, and yet, Visenya thought that she might have spied a touch of amusement from the older woman. When she spoke, there was no scolding nor answer to Rhaenys' question given. "Lord Varys desires land as much as he desires women, my sweet. Would that we could offer him Casterly Rock or Highgarden — he would refuse."
"What's he want?" Visenya asked, finally speaking up at the same time she walked — with Rhaenys still pressed against her back and the girl's arms around her centre — towards one of the large berry bushes.
"To serve the realm," Rhaenys said, a horrible accent put in place and a mocking tone present.
"I hope that with you now where you belong, my lovely Visenya, you might teach Rhaenys the matter of decorum and timing. It's evident that Rhaegar and I weren't up to the task," Elia said, shaking her head as she seemingly gave up on Rhaenys' behaviour… for the time being. "As for his desires, Rhaenys spoke the truth, albeit in a way that greatly detracts from it."
"Please, that's how he speaks, mother," Rhaenys said.
Elia opened her mouth to respond, but the man from earlier came up and began to speak in hushed tones into her ears. Whilst that happened, Rhaenys tightened her hold around Visenya a few feet too far from the bush.
"They're poisonous, 'Senya," Rhaenys said quietly, and as one hand swept up Visenya's long, silver hair. "I can't let you any nearer to them than we already are."
I wasn't intent on eating them.
"You worry for my safety?" Visenya asked instead of firing a biting retort at Rhaenys.
"We've only just found you. I shan't let you leave, not until we're old, gray and looking at our Grandchildren," Rhaenys responded, those words being the first that were said seriously since they had left the wagon.
Visenya wasn't sure how to respond, and thankfully, she need not concern herself with doing so. Elia addressed the pair and said that the men had finished with the wagon expeditiously, and as a result, Visenya would not be given the chance to see her baby cousin until the end of the day.
In Visenya's mind, the choice had been made to block her from doing so the moment the man, Prince Lewyn, had left. They wanted her completely and utterly now that she was with them. Elia and Rhaenys were polite with what they said and how they acted, the Prince was awkward, and the King was a mixture of sadness and adoration.
Visenya wouldn't be the fool. She was of the North, and the North remembers; only time could truly tell how they would treat her or if her fate would end the same as her mother, her Nuncle Brandon, and her Grandfather. She cursed herself for allowing dark thoughts to fester, but they were innate to her… as innate as Elia's smile.
"Aegon will grow jealous with how attached the two of you have become," Elia commented from her seated position a good few feet away from Rhaenys and Visenya, the warmth of the large tent making the three lethargic.
Rhaenys grinned, victorious-looking and smug as she tightened her hold around Visenya; for her part, the smaller girl allowed Rhaenys' touch. She told herself that there was little she could do to stop the more powerful girl, for her strength was not solely physical. It need not be mentioned that there was a portion of her that thrived under the attention and all but preened whensoever her sister commented or pet her.
"Aegon had his chance," Rhaenys said as she pressed a kiss to Visenya's nape, her two hands massaging up and down the smaller girl's arms and shoulders. "Had he travelled with us instead of Father, he could have spent all that time with her that he liked. Instead, she's mine"
"She's ours," Elia said, rolling her eyes as she went along playfully with Rhaenys' possessive words. "And I do believe your Father and Brother will be along shortly. It took the men no time at all to set this up and furnish it, 'tis the only reason it's seemed like an eternity within the warmth and comfort of this tent."
Visenya agreed, the tent was very warm and comfortable. The rugs, the bed, the chairs and the platters of food… it was more than she deserved. In fact, she felt as if she were too pampered and undeserving of all that she was receiving. It need not matter that the Targaryens could afford it with ease, for after nought but one singular day, she had experienced more spoiling than throughout the entirety of her life.
"Just wait until 'Senya sees home for the first time," Rhaenys said, her words as much for Visenya as they were for Elia.
Elia folded her lips inwards as she set down her glass of wine and looked at Visenya. The older woman's eyes were searching, and after she swallowed the remnants of wine in her mouth, she opened it to speak. "I do hope that you find King's Landi—"
The flaps to their tent burst open without so much as one word from the outside world, and as Visenya and Rhaenys jumped and Elia turned, eyebrows raised at the intrusion, they took notice of who had arrived.
It was Aegon. He was out of breath, still in his riding clothes, and looking around as if he had gone mad. When he spotted Visenya in a nightgown in Rhaenys' arms and a large fur wrapped around the pair, he groaned. That didn't stop him from moving as close to them as he could, that being the chair near the foot of the bed that Elia had originally sat in before moving to the tray of wine and snacks.
"Mother," he said to her without so much as a look in Elia's direction. "Visenya."
Visenya bowed her head, and as she did so, Rhaenys peppered the nape of her neck with small, ticklish kisses. "Pr—Prince Aeg—on," she squeaked out through a fit of giggles that she couldn't control.
He looked at her with an expression as if she had just insulted him, and then he glared. Initially, Visenya thought the poison-filled look was meant for her, but when Rhaenys stopped peppering her neck with kisses, she realised who it was truly meant for. From out of the corner of her right eye, she could even make out Rhaenys' tongue sticking out at Aegon.
"Aegon or brother, never Prince Aegon, baby sister," he said after that murderous look fell from his face to be replaced with something that was a mixture of charming and gallantry.
Visenya would hand it to him, he could certainly look the part of a Prince. As for actions, she was much less impressed with him than she was in regard to the queer and overly-affectionate Rhaenys.
"As you say, Aegon," Visenya said with a dip of her head. She let the silence that fell when she finished speaking linger for all of a few seconds, and then she spoke again when Aegon didn't make to do anything short of staring at her and Rhaenys. "Did you… enjoy the Northern countryside?"
"It was a treat to view, though I dare say the most beautiful sight to behold throughout the entirety of this trip has been you, little sister," Aegon said, his words spoken with confidence as he sat tall and with his shoulders spread apart.
At least now he's regained his breath… though the stink of a horse remains on him. It smells like home.
"Our baby sister is a beauty, 'tis true. It's for that very reason that it'll be I who stays by her side — we mustn't let cruel rumours befall her," Rhaenys said, speaking up as she returned to massaging Visenya's shoulders. "Mayhaps I'll even allow you to sup with us on occasion. Only if you're polite, little brother… what say you, 'Senya? Should he have to retrieve flowers for the chance to share a meal with you? Something else?"
Visenya swallowed as she caught on to what was happening. Aegon and Rhaenys each wished to claim her as their sister. Elia's words of warning spoken only earlier in the wagon made sense. Rhaenys claimed things of beauty, and to Rhaenys, it seemed as if Visenya was a 'thing' of beauty. Aegon, for his part, seemed to want her just as bad.
It wasn't unusual, Visenya had witnessed the same jealousy and possessiveness with a few of her Northern siblings. Arya and Robb especially were much the same as Aegon and Rhaenys; each fought for her time, and each would tease the other incessantly over the smallest of victories.
They share the same starting initials, mayhaps the Gods had a hand in that, Visenya had to fight to hide a frown as her siblings spoke heated words to one another, words with which she tuned out from hearing. If that is where they spent their time, it would make sense why so many claim the Gods to be cruel.
"Enough," Elia finally said, the voices of Rhaenys and Aegon stopped immediately. "I'll not…my love, finally."
Elia's words had been heated and her eyes were awash with the fire that House Targaryen oft mentioned. That fire, strange as it was to witness from a woman as slight and soft-spoken as Elia, was quelled as the King's presence was announced mere seconds before he entered the tent. When he did so, his breath was even and his steps were carefully measured.
He looked and acted the part of a King.
"Elia," Rhaegar said softly, his affection for the woman known as he swooped her up in his arms and kissed her deeply. That kiss persisted for longer than most would deem proper, and when the time finally came for him to set his wife back to the ground, he did so with a content noise that was echoed by Elia. "Children," he said a second later, his eyes flickering between the trio.
"Father," Aegon responded first, his voice matching his father's calmness as his earlier jealousy and anger at Rhaenys was seemingly forgotten.
Rhaenys squeezed Visenya's shoulder as if to remind the smaller girl that the King was addressing her as equally as he was addressing the other two. With that reminder, Visenya swallowed as the man's eyes captivated hers, and wetting her lips, she spoke.
"Father," she said in tandem with Rhaenys, the older girl having timed her so that they spoke in unison.
"Good girl," Rhaenys whispered, her voice so low and soft that Visenya half-thought she had heard a ghost; it was only the second squeeze of her opposite shoulder that convinced her the words had truly been slipped in before their father responded to the trio.
"Aegon, Rhaenys, Visenya," he said, one name after the next all the whilst his eyes remained on the lattermost of the three. "By all the Gods, the new, the old and even the Lysene Goddess, I have longed to say your names together — tell me of your day, daughters."
Rhaegar fell into the chair beside Elia, a glass of wine already poured for him, and like that he remained until the light of the day was well and truly gone, and the vast majority of the men and women of the camp had allowed sleep to claim them. Owls sang, bats whistled by, and wolves howled, and for hours to come the Dragons stayed together.
Visenya wished so very badly that Rhaegar and Elia would have stayed until Aegon left, for when the King and Queen separated so that they might sleep, she desired not to be left to her two squabbling… siblings.
In every story, it was the young and juvenile dragons that were the most troublesome, dangerous and covetous of their possessions, regardless of the truth of the lattermost word.
"Be a dear, Aegon, and grab more wine for Visenya and I," Rhaenys said within seconds of Rhaegar and Elia's departure.
Aegon narrowed his eyes at Rhaenys, but when those eyes fell to Visenya's and she blinked at him, his gaze turned soft. It was odd after hearing how brat-like he could be, and Rhaenys only yesterday had mentioned that he acted the part of a man to impress other men. It occurred that she could have some personal bias, but from what Visenya had witnessed herself, it was more likely that Aegon's looks and manners were faked than Rhaenys'
Nonetheless and whilst Visenya had been deep in thought, Aegon moved to do as their older sister requested. He looked as if he didn't wish to fill their cups for them as he did so, but when he did, Visenya's was first and he went so far as to help her with one hand atop hers so that none was spilt upon her clothing.
Or rather, their clothing. None of what she wore, slept on or looked at it was hers regardless of what they claimed. It was not her coin that purchased it or her hands that claimed it.
"It took nought but one look from our innocent baby sister to turn that heart of yours to mush, is that right, little brother?" Rhaenys asked, her voice teasing as she toyed with Visenya's hair with her off-hand and sipped with the other.
"Right in one, and for the very reason of her innocence. I find her purity and manners a sight to behold nearly of the same quality of her person," Aegon shot back, his words scathing whilst he looked at her with the polar opposite of expressions on his face. "Truly, little sister. Try as I might, I fail to recall one beauty that matches you."
Rhaenys snorted. "That weed from the Reach would be so very hurt if she heard you say as much."
"Margaery Tyrell is a whore. You've heard the rumours the same as I, Rhaenys, and mother and father have as well. I'll not marry her, and nary anothe—" Aegon stopped, shook his head, and shot a meaningful look at Rhaenys; Visenya intercepted it and took note of how even Rhaenys herself seemed to take a step back from her teasing and words of viciousness. "Enough of those women. I mean to spend this time with Visenya."
"I suppose you do have to secure second place in her heart. You wouldn't wish for Daenerys or Viserys to do so," Rhaenys agreed, that same smugness from earlier in place even if her words had lost the edge to them that had previously been present.
Again, Visenya was reminded of Elia's words in the wagon. Those words had not been contested by Rhaenys when they had been spoken.
Aegon ignored Rhaenys' words and focused solely on Visenya. He remained quiet as he sat patiently at the foot of their bed, one half of him illuminated with the flickering fire whilst the other remained dark as he was still. Nary another word was spoken by him, and so Visenya blinked as her brows furrowed.
"What would you like to know?" she asked slowly, thankful for Rhaenys' presence; she never would have thought a Targaryen would become an anchor or safety net of sorts, yet it had happened.
The world was truly turned upon its head if it hadn't been already.
In the darkness and orange light of the fire, Visenya's unfocused, tired eyes could make out a shrug from Aegon. "Tell me not of your time with Lord Stark or his children, but of your thoughts on all that's happened," he said. "I know it must seem strange to be whisked away from a place you've called home for over a decade, and as a dear friend claims, discussion works wonders to ease the mind of its many burdens."
Surprisingly, Rhaenys had no clever words in response to Aegon's.
"You might not be pleased with the thoughts that rattle around inside of my mind," Visenya stated as the call of sleep grew stronger, and Rhaenys' warmth and steady breathing against her back grew more comforting with every passing second.
"You're here," Aegon said. "It is too late for you to leave us. Father knows of you, we all do, and I dare say we'll never be able to continue without you ever again."
Rhaenys made a noise of agreement. "You wouldn't know, but Father and Mother are happier now than they've ever been before. Our trip to the North was filled with stress, and many an argument was had. Never again will that happen."
"Remind yourself of that, please," Aegon said with a snort. "Go on, Visenya. Speak your mind, we can handle it."
Those were the last words Visenya heard before the call of sleep grew too strong. Rhaenys' warmth, the wine, the heat and fur, all of it claimed her, and when next she opened her eyes, it was to birdsong and sunlight peeping through the tent with Elia's smiling visage the first sight that she saw.
The morn had come, and she remembered not if anything else had happened after Aegon's words; she thought not, but it felt like a dream.
Everything felt as if it were a dream.