The last few weeks hadn't been easy for her, not only because of spending them on the road, but also because of the feeling of rejection. She didn't quite understand why, after all, she was surrounded by a lot of people, she had people to talk to. Even with the person who most likely made her feel this way, she exchanged at least a few sentences every day. However, it was a friendly relationship and it didn't seem to be changing.
The stopover in Harrenhal wasn't long, as everyone managed to get along quite well. She kept her word. She could already see the destination on the horizon, she didn't even have to look above the Unsullied marching in front of her in a row, because she was sitting on the back of a horse.
It was the first time she had been this far north and she was silently grateful for the warm, fur clothes. The coat didn't differ much from what she had been wearing every day for the past months. The style wasn't anything new, nor was the color - it was black, with red fur in the places where it was embossed, and that was the only color accent.
The hair was different. It was exceptionally high, pinned up in a bun of several braids, and only one strand on each side of the face was left the other hand, nothing covered the silver chain that - as was often the case - ran diagonally across her chest. The decoration in her hair was equally unchanging, and it would probably match with the rings, if not for the fact that the gloves covered her hands anyway.
She looked to the side without turning her head and cast a rather cold glance at Robb, who wasn't even looking at her at the , many people who had gathered along the road passing through the village were giving her very intense looks. She felt judged by them in every possible way, although she hadn't said a single word to them. They had only seen her in passing, but she knew that they would talk about her among themselves - and not necessarily in a positive way - if they weren't already.
She moved her gaze to the building on the horizon, trying not to worry about the glances, although it wasn't easy. It reminded her of the moment when she entered King's Landing, similar feelings accompanied her then. Even though she hadn't come here as a conqueror.
She couldn't focus on the castle, which she had long wanted to see and compare with the great buildings she had already had the opportunity to see: the Red Keep, Dragonstone, Harrenhal and the Pyramids in Meereen. Involuntarily, she began to look at people again, her gaze shifting between them all the time.
"I warned you that northerners don't much trust outsiders."
She turned her head and looked at Robb, who seemed to want to comfort her after the hostile stares she was receiving. It didn't help much, although it was nice that he hadn't forgotten that she was riding on his left. She tried not to think about the fact that they had barely spoken today. He was probably glad that he was finally going home. She hadn't let him come back whenever he wanted, despite her insisting that he wasn't her prisoner.
He could have disobeyed her. Once they had left Dragonstone, he and ser Davos could have taken horses and left, no one to watch them, they didn't need their ship back. But he stayed. Partly because it looked better that they were coming together, riding side by side.
Despite the fact that he himself felt judged that once again there was a strange woman at his side.
"Especially when there are rumors about this strange woman having horns and a tail." she replied jokingly, trying to distract her thoughts from the unpleasant reaction of those around her. She looked over at him just in time to see him giggling.
"It is said I turn into a wolf at night and eat the entrails of my enemies." he quoted one of the things he had heard about himself during the war, to respond in the same spirit.
She smiled at this absurd rumor. She felt a little more confident, so despite feeling rejected earlier, she wanted to tease him about this turning into a wolf at night. Funny, for most of her life she was not in the mood for jokes, and it was not surprising considering what this life was like.
Daario liked to joke with her, it was with him that she picked up on his good mood and sometimes teased and joked with him.
But she didn't say anything, because a loud roar echoed in the air, followed by more. She raised her head and the smile on her face widened when she saw her children in the sky. Most people panicked, running to their homes. Fear paralyzed several people in place, some of them looked away, crouched on the ground, others simply couldn't tear their eyes away from the beasts.
Visenya, on the other hand, felt a surge of confidence at the sight of them. She lifted her chin, holding her head high. The screams didn't seem to bother her. The dragons flew over them and towards the castle, familiarizing themselves with the new area. She saw them circling the walls, the same as they had done when she had finally came to Dragonstone.
"There must be more rumors we haven't heard. Maybe there's someone who believes that you turn into a wolf at night, and I turn into a dragon, and together we terrorize the people?" she finally replied, but it sounded like a rumor Cersei would really spread among the people.
He laughed, and she laughed back.
In Winterfell, Sansa stood on the walls and saw the approaching armies, stretching so far away that she couldn't see where they ended. She also saw the dragons flying towards the castle. The first one was green, followed by snowy white, and behind them the other two flew more or less side by side. When the first one flew too low above her head for her taste, the rush of air blew her hair and the snow that was on the walls flew straight into her face. She squinted, wincing. She wiped her face with her hand and turned around, watching as the beasts began to fly around the building. Then she took one more look at the approaching people and went down the walls, to the courtyard, which was close to the gate.
She stood there with others, including Jon, Bran and the current Maester of the castle.
'She's a Targaryen, of course she's an enemy.' - she told Robb when she argued with him that he shouldn't answer the invitation to Dragonstone. She was still not convinced about the Dragon Queen.
She watched as she rode in on a snow-white horse, her head held high. It was the first time she had seen her, even though they had both been in the capital at the same time for some time.
Visenya Targaryen, the last of her line and as you can see with very high ambitions. She looked like a Queen, at least because of her clothes. She didn't want to fit in, she didn't even try. Her fur coat distinguished her, even though it was black, it was still striking, especially in contrast to her pale skin and silver hair. From this distance she wouldn't be able to tell the color of her eyes, if not for the fact that they were light purple. Another thing that made her different.
You shouldn't judge people by their looks alone, but she didn't come across as nice. Her clothes and the way she carried herself were enough to give that impression. She didn't even have her hands clasped in front of her, but rather had them hanging loosely at her sides - another sign of her self-confidence, if not arrogance.
She didn't take her eyes off her even when she greeted Robb.
And Visenya? Visenya focused on why she was here and who she was to endure all the stares aimed at her. These weren't just people who simply lived nearby. She hadn't even had time to say anything yet, and she already felt treated like an enemy by some of the Lords.
What do I have to do to make them like me?
"Did I cross the line with the fur?" she whispered to ser Arthur standing behind her.
For a brief moment she felt like a little girl, not a strong Queen who had come a long way to be where she was, and she wanted to hide behind his back. A few seconds later she just wanted to take a step back, to feel that he was close to her. But she didn't do any of those things. She couldn't break her image, they were ready to consider her weak.
Let them stare as much as they wanted, she would endure even if they pointed at her and said her name loudly when they talked to each other. She's been through worse, like being kidnapped by the Dothraki. She's Visenya, of the great House Targaryen, of the blood of Old Valyria, a dragon, and dragons aren't afraid of just any stare.
She came here to save people's lives and she will do that.
"You should wear that white one, you would be even more visible." if it weren't for the fact that she wanted to maintain her appearance, she would have elbowed him in the side.
"Everyone is already looking at me." she mumbled, running her eyes over the faces of everyone staring at her. "And white is not a Targaryen color." she added.
"But recently you've liked wearing it again." he noticed, for which she wanted to elbow him playfully again. Yes, she had also ordered a white cloak made, very similar to the one she was wearing now, but she decided not to wear it today. "You are not bound to two colors just because they are in your coat of arms."
She turned and looked at him, immediately rolling her eyes and returning to her serious posture.
Finally, it was time to introduce her and she felt stressed, but she pushed that feeling aside. They may not trust her, but Robb already does. They will change their minds about her too, if she gives them time and shows them she means well.
"This is Queen Visenya Targaryen. She agreed to help fight the Night King." Robb introduced her when she came closer. "This is my sister, Sansa Stark, Lady of Winterfell." he felt like he was a child and fell in love with some girl and had to introduce her to his parents. He knew what his sister's attitude was towards Visenya, but he didn't know anything about the other girl's thoughts.
He told her about his family several times, she seemed to like hearing about it (and it was a good impression. Since she didn't know her family at all, only from stories, she liked listening to his stories and memories from childhood. She imagined that she had experienced such a childhood herself), so he shared many memories. Especially when they were sitting in the tent at night, and it was raining outside, the atmosphere was conducive to returning to this happy stories.
Despite the fact that Visenya didn't have many happy memories from her childhood, she was more open about it when Robb talked about himself. She felt that she should give something too. She had had a few happy memories with Selaria, the servant who largely replaced her mother. She always told her bedtime stories, she remembered it very well, especially one story that was really the story of Selaria herself, but it was only later that she understood it. About a simple girl who lost almost everything, but made a promise to her friend and intended to keep it, no matter how difficult life would be.
"We didn't have the pleasure of meeting when we were both in the capital." Visenya said politely, not having an idea of what could be a better thing to say.
"I doubt it would have been a pleasure then." Sansa replied, looking at her interlocutor. "That's the past. Now everything has changed, the pleasure is on my side, Your Grace."
"I am grateful for welcoming us all into your home. I have wanted to see Winterfell since I was a child, it is beautiful." only after saying this did she realize that her sincere words could be considered false courtesy, but it was too late to take them back, so she smiled gently and hoped that it would be fine.
"It is large, but not everyone will fit here." she replied, thinking back to the huge number of people she had seen from the walls. "But we will try to ensure that even those camping outside the walls have adequate comfort." she added, which Visenya in turn took as a snipe, as if she demanded luxury.
"I am not here for comforts, but to help in a matter that concerns us all." she explained, immediately then passing her gaze also to the others gathered, whom she could look at at the moment looking to the side, as if emphasizing her words.
No matter what Visenya herself had to say, Sansa remained distrustful, of course because of past unpleasant experiences. In the evening, when the issue of managing the space and the free chambers had been resolved, there was a moment of peace, after a tense meeting.
Sansa went to talk to her older brother, who had finally returned home. She was glad that, contrary to her pessimistic predictions, he was safe and sound, but she had mixed feelings about the person he had brought under their roof.
She knew that the troops Visenya had brought with her were a great help, but she was not sure what her motives were. Cersei had been nice to her, Petyr Baelish had been nice, many other people had smiled at her and then stabbed her in the back, used her for their own purposes. She had no reason to think that she was any different. At least not yet.
And - unfortunately - because of her experiences, it was hard for her to give a stranger a chance.
Even though they had already hugged in the courtyard, the first thing she did when she entered was to go up to him and hug him. Briefly, but enough for him to hug back, even though he was about to start changing and go to sleep after the last day of the long journey.
"Did you bend the knee?" was the first thing she asked as soon as she pulled away. It didn't matter that even before he came to greet them in the courtyard, she had seen him exchange a few more words with Visenya and nothing seemed to make him treat her as more important than himself. She had to hear it from him, and she still didn't know if she would believe him.
"No." He answered truthfully, suppressing the reflex of wincing at the fact that she had only come to ask that.
"Am I supposed to believe that she simply... believed you and came here out of the goodness of her heart?" she asked another question.
"That's right. Why is it so hard for you-"
"Because people aren't good. Especially unselfishly." she stated.
She hadn't met anyone in recent years who was simply good to her. There was always some ulterior motive. She had been naive once, but now she trusted no one but her family. She knew that sometimes you needed others to survive, but just as others had used her, she could use them. She certainly didn't want to be a stupid girl who could be easily manipulated again.
"So you think I'm evil? And Jon too? Bran, Arya? Yourself?" he asked. "There are good people, Sansa, and Visenya is one of them. Besides, it's in her best interest to fight, because the Night King's cause affects everyone."
'All of us who sailed with her from Essos believe in her. She's not our Queen because she's the daughter of a prince from some dynasty we've never even heard of. She's our Queen because we chose her to be one' Missandei had said once, when they were still on Dragonstone. Back then, he'd been rather skeptical about it.
And then he saw for himself that this woman was not the monster, the ruthless conqueror she had seemed when they first met. That was just her appearance, but in reality she had a gentle heart.
She didn't have to give him dragonglass. When he had first refused to bend the knee she could have used force, killed him, but she had accepted it - at least for now. She could have destroyed the capital along with every Lannister soldier, Cersei and everyone else in the city, ending the war in a few hours. Cersei in her place would have done that, Tywin and many others in their cruelty perhaps would too. From what he had seen, he was able to believe that the good stories about her exploits in Slaver's Bay were also very true.
That was why he believed in her good motives. Others may still be wary, but he hoped that as they got to know her better they would change their minds, just as he had changed his. She was a good woman and she will be a good Queen.
"That's different, we're family. But even so, I won't trust a stranger just because you think she has pure intentions. You have to understand that. I won't feel safe tonight under my own roof that we fought so hard to get back." she explained calmly.
He wanted to see it from her perspective, how she might feel not knowing Visenya, but at the same time he wanted to convince her that he was right and that she should trust him.
"Were you looking out from the walls when we came? The soldiers from the rest of Westeros and those she brought from across the sea, they're all here, they've come to fight for our home. Along with supplies and more wagons full of dragonglass. You know how many people we could send to fight ourselves and it would be a drop in the ocean of needs. Only with her we stand a chance."
"I did. I saw four dragons too, one flew right over my head."
"At least try to be nice to her." Is he asking for so much? For her to give her a chance like he did, is that too much?
"Why are you defending her so much?" she asked, and then something else came to her mind that she hadn't considered before. "You... Have you fallen in love with her?" she asked uncertainly, lowering her voice a little, as if she was afraid that she would offend him with this question.
At these words he felt an unpleasant shiver run through his body and a coldness spread through him, even though his heart sped up.
No, of course not. What kind of question is that? - was the first thing he wanted to say, but he didn't. Although it was an obvious answer, right? He had already experienced the love of his life. The woman he gave his heart to is dead and what they had will never come back.
Sam, in response to his question about whether it was possible to fall in love a second time, answered him that why not. He then asked him if it wouldn't be a betrayal.
The loved one is already dead, but if there is some kind of life after death, shouldn't you wait patiently until you are together again? On the other hand, you can't say that something like this will happen. And what if it doesn't? And even then, you don't get to choose who you love.
He can no longer say what love is. He thought of the silver necklace he always carries with him. That was another thing that was hard to explain.
"No." he finally answered, after a slightly too long silence that suggested hesitation in itself.
Again: She didn't believe him.
Even Robb didn't believe himself.