Visenya let out a slight groan in pain, as she felt the maester assist Mira in changing the bandages that were on Visenya's left shoulder and back. It had been a week since the battle occurred...word got out, and evidently it was being called The Battle of The Bastards...even though Jon technically wasn't a bastard. Once the bandages were changed, and Visenya's long black gown was situated back on her upper-body, Mira carefully helped her to a seat.
Within the past week, Mira had been updating her on the various events occurring. Since the Starks took over Winterfell, Jon and Visenya both came to an agreement to allow for Sansa to end Ramsay's life...by feeding him to his own hounds.
Of course, no one protested.
Aside from Ramsay's death, Jaime ordered Bronn and Brienne to retrieve Myrcella and Tristane from Dragonstone, since he knew that due to Visenya's injuries, she wouldn't be able to fly on dragonback for sometime. Plus, Jaime and Visenya both came to an agreement that Myrcella would be safer in Winterfell, than at Dragonstone by herself. While they didn't know it yet, the two of them made the right decision.
Once she sat back down, she carefully lifted her head up to allow for the maester to examine her face. While there were some cuts still present from her fight with Herald Karstark, the bruising was almost all gone and the cuts she had were very minor...which she was eternally grateful for. The maester gave her a small smile as he placed a cup in front of her.
Visenya frowned. "What is it?"
"Milk of The Poppy, Princess." The maester explained. "It will help with the pain."
She gave the older man a small nod, before drinking the liquid from the cup. For the last week, the maester's have been giving her Milk of The Poppy, to allow for the healing process to go faster and without pain. Once she finished drinking the liquid, the maester gave her a small nod before leaving her chambers. Out of everything that had happened, she was glad that her old room in Winterfell was left unchanged, from when she left it, all those years ago.
"Do you wish to lay down, Princess?" Mira asked, taking a seat beside Visenya.
She shook her head. "I'm tired of laying down."
"You are recovering from two potentially life-threatening injuries." Mira countered. "It's best for you to take it easy."
Visenya shook her head, standing up from her chair. "I want to go for a walk in the Courtyard."
Mira let out a sigh in frustration, knowing she wouldn't win the argument, and if she said no...Visenya would figure out a way to get down there herself. After placing a black fur overcoat over her shoulders, Mira carefully guided Visenya out of the room, and down the stairs into the Great Hall. Sansa, who was speaking to one of the Stark bannermen, noticed this, and walked toward Visenya.
"What're you doing out of bed?" Sansa asked looking over her sister.
Visenya shrugged. "I grew tired of being waited on."
"Where're you going?"
"To the Courtyard for a walk." She explained. "Why?"
"Jon has called a meeting of the remaining Lords of The North." Sansa explained. "I hope you will attend."
Visenya nodded. "I will. Mira, why don't you help Sansa prepare for their arrival. I will be able to manage on my own."
Before Mira could protest, Visenya turned around and started heading towards the door that led into the Courtyard. No sooner she opened the door, she felt the brisk, cold air immediately hit her in the face, making her sigh in content.
She had missed Winterfell.
While she loved Dragonstone with all her heart, Winterfell was and would always be her childhood home. And now, Winterfell was similar to what it once was. Lively and controlled by The Starks. As she began to walk through the Courtyard, she noticed that some of the Wildlings had occupied Winterfell along with the Starks. From the corner of her eye, she saw a small Wildling child having issue carrying a crate filled of fresh lemons (that were probably for Sansa), to the cart in front of him to be taken to the galley for supper. There were many crates of various produce, all not native to Winterfell, so it must've come from the Reach recently. Visenya let out a small sigh before walking over to the child, taking it carefully from the child's hands.
"Thank you, Princess." The child smiled.
Visenya gave the child a small and nodded for her to go and play with the other children, relieving her of her duties. Kneeling slightly, she picked up another crate and started to walk towards the cart.
"What do you think you're doing?" Jaime called from his position across the Courtyard, as he practically ran over to her. Once he reached her he sighed in annoyance. "You are supposed to be in bed."
"I was...then I got bored. You can only stay in bed doing nothing for so long." She immediately replied as he took the crate from her hands. "I can handle lifting a crate."
"You are not supposed to lift anything." He explained putting the crate down in the cart. "You are still healing."
She rolled her eyes as they started to walk away from the produce. "I am tired of everyone saying that to me."
"And why is that? Because it's true?"
"Because it's annoying." She immediately replied. "I understand that I was injured...but after a while of everyone waiting on me hand and foot...it gets quite annoying after a while."
"I'm sorry." He sighed glancing at her as they continued to walk through the Courtyard.
She shrugged. "It's not your fault."
"I told the maesters and Mira to watch you like a hawk." He began making her snap her head towards him in annoyance.
She stopped in her tracks with annoyance in her eyes. "Why would you tell them that?"
"I was concerned." He spoke with honesty. "I was worried you wouldn't recover."
Just as she was about to reply, a voice called for her.
"Visenya."
Both of them looked away from each other to see Rickon standing in the middle of the Courtyard, covered in furs of his own.
"Jon requests your presence." Rickon sighed before looking to Jaime. "He requests both of your presence."
The two of them sighed before following the younger boy and into the Great Hall. Eventually, Lords and representatives from the Northern houses, the Vale, The Riverlands, and the Wildlings gathered within the Great Hall. Visenya was seated next to Jon, who was sitting in between her and Sansa. Rickon sat beside Sansa, and while Jaime was neither a Northerner nor a Stark, he still sat by Visenya's side, since he was her husband. Mira was sitting beside her brother, whereas Tormund and Davos sat amongst the Wildlings...but Visenya could still see Petyr Baelish standing in one of the corners of the room, watching the entire scene unfold...which made Visenya sick to her stomach. Maegor and Ghost were also present as well, but were laying near Jon and Visenya's feet. All of them, including the Direwolves had grown tired of listening to the banter that had been occurring for the last few hours.
"You can't expect Knights of the Vale to side with wildling invaders." One of the Vale knight's began, making his claim.
Tormund rolled his eyes before smirking toward the knight. "We didn't invade. We were invited."
"Not by me." The knight huffed before sitting back down.
Jon, tired of the nonsense stood up from his seat.
"The free folk, the northerners, the Riverlords, and the Knights of the Vale fought bravely, fought together, and we won." Jon began. "My father uses to say we find our true friends on the battlefield."
"Your father was not Ned Stark." One of the Riverlords began. "But that of Rhaegar Targaryen."
"Eddard Stark was more of a father to my nephew than my brother was." Visenya spoke from her seat. "He treated my like a child of his own...as he did with my nephew...we both consider him our father."
Another representative stood. This time, from the North. "The Boltons are defeated. The war is over. Winter has come. If the maesters are right, it'll be the coldest one in a thousand years. We should ride home and wait out the coming storms."
"The war is not over. And I promise you, friend, the true enemy won't wait out the storm. He brings the storm." Jon explained, sitting back down.
This led to everyone in the room beginning to speak among themselves in deep thought on the fact that the Night King was coming this way. Annoyed with the banter herself, Lyanna Mormont stood up in annoyance.
"Your son was butchered at the Red Wedding, Lord Manderly. But you refused the call. You swore allegiance to House Stark, Lord Glover, but in their hour of greatest need, you refused the call." She began, addressing the various Lords in the North. "And you, Lord Cerwyn, your father was skinned alive by Ramsay Bolton. Still you refuse the call. But House Mormont remembers. The North remembers. We know no king but the King in the North whose name is Stark. I don't care if he's a bastard. I don't care if he is a Targaryen. Stark blood runs through his veins. He's my king from this day until his last day."
Murmuring resumed amongst the masses making Visenya turn to Jaime with a sigh. For once she agreed with him. She wish she stayed in bed, then she wouldn't have to deal with this nonsense. However all of them fell silent, when Lord Manderly stood up from his seat.
"Lady Mormont speaks harshly and truly." The man began. "My son died for Robb Stark, the Young Wolf. I didn't think we'd find another king in my lifetime. I didn't commit my men to your cause 'cause I didn't want more Manderlys dying for nothing. But I was wrong. Jon Snow avenged the Red Wedding. He is the White Wolf. The King in the North."
In that moment, Visenya's eyes widened in shock as the man drew his blade, pointing it down on the ground and knelt before Jon. Lord Glover, then stood up.
"I did not fight beside you on the field and I will regret that until my dying day." He began. "A man can only admit when he was wrong and ask forgiveness."
"There's nothing to forgive, my lord." Jon sighed in honesty.
"There will be more fights to come." The man continued. "House Glover will stand behind House Stark as we have for a thousands years. And I will stand behind Jon Snow… the King in the North!"
Just like Lord Manderly, Lord Glover drew his blade, rested it point-down on the ground, and knelt before Jon.
"The King in the North!" He declared.
Everyone in the hall then stood, accept for those sitting at the high table, and drew their blades.
"The King in the North!" The all chanted.
And after glancing at Sansa, Visenya, and Rickon, Jon slowly stood up, accepting their plea. Visenya wasn't surprised but she felt a certain sense of familiarity of the situation, as it reminded her of the night Robb was declared King.
"Wait!" Mira shouted about everyone, stopping their declaration. "What of the rest of Westeros?"
"Who gives a shit!" Tormund groaned. "The North is independent!"
She shook her head. "The current King of the rest of Westeros is a usurper, similar to the King before him, and the King before him."
Everyone looked at her in confusion, not understanding where she was going with addressing the current ruler of Westeros.
"What are you suggesting, Lady Forrester?" Lyanna asked in confusion.
"The rightful ruler of Westeros is that of Targaryen. Since the next in line for the Iron Throne would be that of Rhaegar Targaryen's son..." She began.
"He is already a king." A Wildling began.
"Exactly. Leading the next ruler to be the next eldest sibling of Rhaegar Targaryen." Mira confirmed with a smile, making all eyes fall on Visenya.
Visenya looked at the entire room with eyes wide. "No."
"You are the rightful Queen of The Seven Kingdoms." Mira began taking a few steps forward. "You know it yourself, even though you won't admit it. You are the only Targaryen who understands why the North must remain independent, and if you made your claim, you would push for it to remain that way."
"You are nothing like the past Targaryens." Davos chimed in. "You are humble, kind, incredibly wise and intelligent. You are more civil than that of Robert, Renly, and Stannis Baratheon."
"The rest of Westeros want's you as it's ruler." Jaime began making Visenya turn to look at him. "You've heard their pleas yourself...seen how they adore you, how they agree and favor your choices and decisions...always favoring the small folk than that of the Great Houses."
"Not only that, but they have already regarded you as a Queen." Mira continued. "The Queen of Dragonsbut also a Queen in The North."
Murmuring began amongst the various Lords as Visenya turned to look at Jon in confusion, and in response he immediately stood up.
"You've heard what they've called the woman sitting next to me." Jon began. "The Queen of Dragons, The Angel of the North, The Northern Dragoness, The Rarest of Them All, The Last Targaryen, The People's Princess, Good Queen Alysanne Reborn, Visenya the Dowager Queen Reborn...but what all of these have in common...is that of the titles of a ruler. A queen."
Jon then turned towards Visenya and kneeled before her.
"Hail Queen Visenya of House Targaryen, Second of Her Name, Rightful Heir to the Iron Throne, Rightful Queen of the Andals, The Rhoynar, and The First Men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm." Jon proclaimed as Visenya slowly stood up.
Slowly, everyone in the room began to kneel before the woman, making Visenya look around in shock. Never in her wildest dreams would she think they'd declare her as the rightful Queen of The Seven Kingdoms...she'd always assumed it'd be Viserys or Rhaegar...but never her. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Jaime kneeling as well, making her look even more shocked than before.
He gave her a small smile. "My Queen."
Visenya then turned back to the masses, with eyes wide, finally accepting what she had come to know...that she would make a great Queen. While she never wanted the Iron Throne...everyone else wants her to have it...something she never thought would happen.
"Long May she Reign!" Mira smiled from her position kneeling before Visenya.
"Long May she Reign!"
A/N:
Visenya is finally Queen!
Well, kinda :)
Everyone has been wanting this to happen...and I'm glad everyone is still along for the ride!
As always, let me know if you have any questions, comments, concerns, or ideas, as I appreciate all of your input!