A/N: I've got more time again, but as usual, I hope to continue to write and post whensoever I can find the time to do so. I'm also still currently on the hunt for a Beta.

Marna/Visenya = Female Jon Snow, the other characters should be self-evident. Thank you and have a wonderful day!

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Visenya furrowed her brows at Rhaenys' words even as the older girl urged her into her chambers, back whence she'd come and where the water of her bath was cooling off sans usage. Visenya would wash whensoever Rhaenys left, and with water that had cooled or turned cold altogether if need be. It would not be the first time that she'd bathed herself in water that would turn one's warmth to frigidness. The North, and more specifically, her tower therein, would oft be problematic when outsiders were more prevalent. Lord Stark's isolation had been necessary, so he'd said.

"The Tyrells go beyond their station. Mother and Father will not be pleased," Rhaenys said as she sat at the edge of Visenya's canopied bed. "Aegon will take their actions as a challenge. So short a time you've been here, my sweet sister, and already you have men who wish to risk their necks for the slightest of chances to witness your beauty. It must be a thing of legends."

"Will they be problems? The Tyrells?" Visenya asked, content to avoid the remarks Rhaenys made about her 'beauty' as she'd called it. In her mind, she was a pretty girl, and the Southron Menfolk didn't risk themselves for her person, but her name and blood. More and more it seemed a gelding would be in order.

Rhaenys tutted at her as she shook her head. "Not in the slightest. We need not rely on them as we once might have done. The lands of the Crown are fertile and tilled, and therein the ground is harvested much and more that keeps King's Landing fed, by and large. Lord Tyrell aided that process, fool that he is."

"He could be a good man."

"The son of… no, sweet sister, Mace Tyrell is a fool and one that nearly cost us the war. I'll not go into detail, for there is no need to do as much, but he is guided by his mother and his mother alone. When the Queen of Thorns finally wilts away to nothingness, the bouquet will do much the same," Rhaenys waved off whatever comment Visenya might have made next and had her eyes purposefully glance over at the tub, steam still rising from the surface of the water. "You wished to bathe, did you not?"

Visenya nodded as she moved — slowly — towards the tub. It was large, ornate and as regal-looking as everything else in Maegor's Holdfast. Had it not been, she would have thought they'd stolen it from someplace solely for her, such was the lifestyle and taste the Targaryen family seemed to have. If it were in their possession, it seemed a prerequisite that it be gaudy, at least by Visenya's fashion choices.

Then again, this came from a girl that much preferred furs and conservative dresses. Why should she wear the sheer gowns or those that showed off much of her breasts or hugged tightly to her figure? The men of the South were lecherous and godless, and very evidently, unwise and unchaste; they were far smaller on average from what she'd seen too. Most lacked the muscle and underlying strength that the Northerners had in spades.

"My 'Senya," Rhaenys said quietly, her voice a breathless whisper.

"Yes?"

Rhaenys nodded at her clothing. "One can't bathe whilst their garments still adorn their body. You're aware of that, little sister, aren't you?"

Of course, I am, Visenya wanted to say, agitation creeping into her as she looked at the Princess. She didn't, she did not wish to raise the ire of the Princess that seemed to wield so much power, especially over the Prince and the rest of the family. It would do little good for her, of that, she was certain. And yet, at the same time, it would be unnatural… strange, even, for her to remove her clothing under the watchful eyes of Rhaenys.

"I am. I… you were speaking, and you're still present," Visenya made her eyes meet those of Rhaenys. "From whence I come, it is customary to bathe alone. When you take your leave, I will wash and join you for the day much the same as when we travelled here."

Rhaenys pouted at her, but she didn't press the matter as she lept deftly to her feet. "I shan't leave your chambers, baby sister, but I will leave the room to you. Whilst you wash and relax this morn, I will take it upon myself to pick the day's outfit for you — I know, you need not remind me, it will be something even a Septa would wear. I recognise your requirements and comfort moreso than my sense of fashion."

That was agreeable enough to Visenya, and so she nodded at the older girl, thankful at the very least to receive the time to bathe without company. As she'd thought previously, even as a Princess of the Targaryen family, her life was not her own. As Lord Stark — her true Father in her eyes and mind thus far — had done, they controlled her actions even if they wished to allow her the illusion that she was free.

If she were just that, her wishes and desires would not be suppressed, and the name she had gone by since infancy would be the one still used to this hour. Marna, even if Snow need be removed to make way for Targaryen.

"Thank you," Visenya said quietly. There was little reason to drudge up an issue despite her internal feelings.

Rhaenys curtsied to her, "You need not thank me, though I'll gladly receive any words in that sweet voice of yours," a teasing look followed Rhaenys' pleasant smile as she made toward the entrance to one of Visenya's side rooms. "One day, I do so desire to wash your back for you, little sister. We would have shared a bed, bath and tales of boys for as long as we've lived, you know."

"One day," Visenya agreed solely for the purpose of appeasing Rhaenys and expediting the girl's withdrawal from the room.

It was not often that Visenya felt uncomfortable or nervous around her 'sister', but times like the current one were the exception. Sometimes, the tales of the Targaryens and their urges and desires for those they were related to seemed as if they were beyond mere stories she'd read and been told. Aegon's glances and Rhaenys' words and actions seemed to harbour a sentiment that Visenya disdained… hated.

For all of the days that she'd lived and would live, there would be no marriage to Aegon or lecherous activities with any other Targaryen. It was unnatural, horribly so, all had said in the North. The teachings of the Old Gods also said as much from what she'd read about her Gods of choice.

That did not mean, however, that Rhaenys' company would not continue to be enjoyable. No, so long as the other girl did not act inappropriately or give cause for Visenya to distrust her, she would favour her above all others. Rhaenys had held her and calmed her, assured her of her safety and aided her in adjusting to her new life. Without the Princess' calming presence, Visenya knew that her life would be all the harder.

Visenya glanced at the balcony and shook her head. Dark thoughts were never welcome, she told herself, and as she slipped free of her remaining vestiges of clothing and climbed agilely over the tub, her legs sinking into the water, she allowed herself a slight smile. It was not for her situation or memories, but the present.

Despite all of the changes and news that had happened in but one moon, nature remained the same. It was a comfort that assured her despite the distance to a Heart's Tree, her gods remained with her, vigilant and present as the tides upon the water or the birds as they drifted upon the currents of the air.

Her name had changed, her home had changed, and her family had changed, but what she called herself need not matter internally; she was still her.

— — — — — — — — — —

"You look gorgeous, I knew I'd picked out the right dress and the jewellery to go with it," Rhaenys tossed her hair over her shoulder, lock dark waves flowing down her back with a beauty of their own making as she stepped closer to Visenya. The former's hands plucked deftly to and fro upon the latter's clothing as more words came. "Where do you wish to journey, little sister? If you know not a place to go, say a desire in its crudest form and I will guide you."

"Mother and Father? He wished to speak with me, and she would be present… right?" Visenya's train of thought was simple. She would see through whatever the King wished to discuss with ease, and by doing so, she would learn truly what would befall the Starks for the 'errors' or 'transgression' of one man. As for her thoughts about the Queen, the woman was calmer, gentle and loving so much so that Visenya found it internally that there was little chance it could be truthful.

No person was so kind as she was, and yet, there had been no slip-up.

Lord Stark, Father… he could be wrong. The Queen gives no cause for concern. She has not been treacherous or horrible, not remotely. If I wish to make the best of my circumstances, I shan't allow others to poison my mind as they've done for six and ten years, one way or another.

For a few scants seconds, Visenya felt deflated. It was poor of her to think of the Queen negatively when the older woman had done nothing to deserve her doubt or disbelief as to the genuineness of her actions. It came from a part of her that was deeply rooted with an innate disdain for all things Targaryen.

"...able when you do that. Your face looks as if you're sleeping, such is the rested state of it. By all the Gods, Old and New, you'll lead to duels for nought but a dance, won't you?" Rhaenys leaned forward and squeezed her right cheek, giggling when her mouth pouted at the action.

Visenya had zoned out, and as a result, missed whatever else the older girl had said to her whilst she'd been deep in thought. It wasn't the first time in recent days, and she did very much doubt that it'd be the last.

"I'm sorry," she said as Rhaenys pulled back. "I find my mind runs wild endlessly in recent times. Even now, the reality of my station in addition to the many changes that have occurred, do not completely register within the confines of my mind."

Rhaenys cooed at her and pulled the much smaller, slighter of build girl into her side. It was as if the older girl had an ingrained desire to man-handled Visenya whensoever and however often she could and simply looked for the excuse to do so; it didn't help that Visenya provided a lot of those, she'd admit.

"You need not apologise to me, little sister, never. Never, never, never," Rhaenys said as she peppered Visenya's face with small, feather-light kisses that nearly made the smaller girl giggle based on feeling alone. "We all understand how jarring this might just be for you, I promise. It is hard to place ourselves in your precious little boots, though it's not for a lack of trying — Now, as for what I stated whilst you lost yourself to your thoughts with that adorable expression upon your face, I said that Lord Willas will still be with Mother and Father, so to meet with them would expose you to a member of one of the most problematic families. Mayhaps a slight selfishness within myself desires to keep you away from them for as long as is possible for ones in our situation."

"Situation?"

"Situation," Rhaenys answered. "It is complicated, and whilst I do not doubt your intellect, little sister, it is decades in the making between our two houses. The tales, I'm afraid, are as complicated and bothersome. Suffice it to say, they desire to have their blood, Tyrell blood, upon the throne and that is not possible at the present."

"I understand," Visenya answered, happy for now to allow the history to be forgotten. It would not be left alone forever, but if she were to be allowed time to adjust to Maegor's Holdfast free from courtiers, she would not press the matter.

"So, with Mother and Father occupied, where do you wish to go? Daenerys should arrive shortly, and I do believe Viserys will arrive soon after," Rhaenys smiled wider, a teasing sort of look on her face. "Aegon, perhaps? He's sparring in the yard, I believe. If you wish to see one of our good Sers best him and send him sprawling through the dirt, we could do so — it makes for a most pleasant show."

Again, Visenya had to remind herself that Aegon and Rhaenys did not dislike one another. There was simply a rivalry between them, and one that seemed to be deeply rooted, and at most times, amusing.

"What else might we see?" Visenya queried as her eyes once again found the balcony and the view thereof. "I know not of the city or its contents. There was no reason to read of it, for I was told oft and at an early age that Northerners did not do well beyond the Neck."

"You will do beyond well here, need I say. As for what we might see or do, whilst we're limited to a degree if we wish to continue your privacy and life sans the intrusion of others, there is still much we might find," Rhaenys grabbed Visenya's hand and pulled, bringing the other girl over to the exit of her chambers. "First, I believe, is the view from one of the farthest balconies. Others might gain a glimpse of you, but that need not be a problem, for they'll be unable to speak or interrupt us."

"What will we see?"

Rhaenys gave as much of a non-answer as Visenya thought possible. "What won't we see?"

"Will others be moving throughout the halls?" Visenya instead asked. If the other question would earn her no answer either way, she would at least hope to hear one for that type of question. She had thought the place would be Targaryen only, with exceptions made only for the guards.

Evidently, that wasn't quite the case.

"They shouldn't be. The Tyrells and on occasion, others, are allowed when they have been extended an invitation. It was likely that Lord Tyrell being unable to attend, extended the invite he'd received to his son, whom you partially met," Rhaenys opened the door and moved past their Kingsguard and the dozen or so household guard that were present. "Oft, the Lannisters and Tyrells are kept apart since they compete excessively, to the point that no progress is made for the day. It is only Lord Tyrell and Lord Lannister, with few other exemptions made, that work together, and even then it's best to keep them apart — the other Lords and Ladies wait to meet elsewhere with Mother or Father."

"The Lannisters and Tyrells are allowed on account of their family, is that right? The Greyjoys, Tullys and others of similar standing would also be allowed?" Visenya assumed she was correct, she practically knew she was, but if political ineptitude would keep her away from the Southron Nobility longer, it wouldn't be poor to play up.

"Exactly right, little sister," Rhaenys said with a near-infectious cheer as she picked up their pace, the two nearly running through the halls. The larger Knights and Guards that followed close behind simply did so at an increased pace, a light jog at the most.

Shortly thereafter, and as the two Targaryen girls went through the halls and passed tapestries, statues and busts, they reached an old chamber with an older door. Rhaenys halted then, ensuring that Visenya did so as well. With a show of agility, the latter did so nearly the moment the former did without so much as a skid or wasted motion. Rhaenys was pleased as she twirled on her feet until she was facing the door.

"Sers, wait for my sister and I here, we wish to make use of the balcony herein," and thenceforth after Rhaenys spoke, the two entered the chamber they were outside of and Rhaenys promptly closed the door behind them.

She seemed intent that they were given privacy, and so they were.

"Who's room is this?" Visenya asked as she looked around. It was covered with a thin layer of dust, everything, from the desk ingrained with dragons to the sheets of the bed, silken as her own. It was strange to see such luxury left to waste in a world where many and more could do with everything inside of the room.

"It is one of many that are unused," Rhaenys said simply, shrugging her shoulders. "When once our family was far larger, with hatchlings running to and fro, each and every room was used. Dragonstone would be just as full of our ancestors. Until such a time comes again, it will be left as it is — don't allow such thoughts to linger," and like that Rhaenys pulled her away again, this time in the direction of the balcony she'd mentioned.

It took a few seconds, only a few, and Visenya was greeted with the best view she knew she would ever receive of the city as a whole. The chambers they were in had been set in a corner, tucked away from most of the others and larger than many they had seen. It would be one that she would have liked to have… though the view of the sea and the call of it was too much for her to wish to trade away.

"Rhaenys?" Visenya asked as a queer thought struck her, one that she knew would irk her if she dared not ask. "Might I ask you something?"

"Whatever you'd like, always."

"The room given to me, was it dusty as this one was? I could not find any hint that it was. All seems clean and well-made," Visenya said, her words the truth. She had spent a good bit of time and when alone, looking throughout the room so as to familiarise herself with it. Inside was nought but finery, much the same as all of Maegor's Holdfast as she'd seen; the dust in the current room was the only difference.

It was strange.

"Once, it might have been," Rhaenys said as she turned to look at Visenya, her eyes with an odd mistiness in them. "It would not have been that way for quite some time, might I tell you. Mother and Father, as I've said before, insisted that you were real and waiting for us. It mattered not our thoughts at the time, for they maintained you would join us when the time was proper."

"Truly?"

Rhaenys smiled and looked down at where their hands were touching. "I speak the truth — the room has been clean since Aegon's birth. Come, let us step onto the balcony and enjoy the view of the City. I would point out places of interest and the nearest settlements, two that might be visible on the horizon, if the weather is clear."

Visenya didn't allow herself to think about what Rhaenys' words might mean. As it was, what she had thought proved itself true when her sister answered her question. The Targaryens had waited for them with a longing that she suspected the Starks were feeling at the present.

"Which hill is yours and which is mine?" Visenya asked, the question more a distraction than genuine curiosity, though that wasn't to say the latter quality wasn't missing altogether. As for the hills, Visenya's and Rhaenys', one had a decaying structure upon it and the other, a large, beautiful one.

She'd be most jealous if Rhaenys had the large, ornate and beautiful one… then again, if it was the Sept as she suspected it was, mayhaps that jealousy wouldn't be present.

"On the left, near the King's Gate, is your hill and on the right, near the Dragon's gate, is mine," Rhaenys answered, their hands still connected and the grip thereof getting tighter as Rhaenys shifted closer to Visenya. Her height all but ensured the smaller girl — Visenya — was seated snugly at her side. "That structure at the top is the Great Sept of Baelor, and atop my hill, the ruins of the Dragonpit that'll one day be restored, though Father believes it should be destroyed altogether."

"Why?" Visenya didn't know much about the dragons, only the Targaryens… admittedly, the little she knew might have a tough of bias.

Rhaenys turned from where she looked at the land ahead of them so that she could focus on Visenya and Visenya alone. "Do you know how the last Dragons looked? Their size or strength, health or durability?"

In response to such a question, Visenya shook her head to indicate that, no, she did not know much about the Dragons of House Targaryen in their final days. She doubted there were many who did, and the majority would be from the Citadel, where the Maesters trained and educated themselves. Had it not been a duty only for men, it would have been a place she'd very much enjoy visiting.

"They were as small as my little cat Balerion and frailer than he. Oft they were sickly and at death's door, and when the last one was felled, I do believe Balerion would have been slightly larger. It was a pitiful extinction for creatures that had long ruled the skies and ensured that House Targaryen was feared," Rhaenys sighed, clearly unhappy for such an end, and then she shook her head and ran her hands up and down Visenya's left arm. "You seem to enjoy stories and views. I imagine… I imagine there were not many of either from your window."

"Only the same one for years unending, though it needn't be poor. When you're as familiar with an area as I grew to be, new homes and buildings, felled trees or ones that grew with time, they all become noticeable. It was like being one of the Children of the Forest," Visenya ended with a fond memory springing to her mind of Old Nan. She had treated her just as any child of Lord Stark, fondly, softly, and with tales that were told with the same passion that Rhaenys gave.

"I could see the appeal," Rhaenys said politely, with words that Visenya didn't truly believe. After a few seconds, the older girl smiled, shook her hair in such a way that it whipped back and forth, and gestured toward Visenya's hill. "Lady Stark is a follower of the New Gods, I think — do you know much about them?"

"Are they who you keep to?"

Rhaenys grinned at her. "When I wish to be pious, yes," the touch on her arm grew lighter, to the point that it tickled Visenya every so often. "You keep the Old Gods, this we know. Where do you stand on the New?"

Visenya shrugged. "It is not my place to question one's beliefs, but they're not my Gods," she moved her eyes to look away from Rhaenys, in the event her answer was wrong. Visenya was no fool, she knew that she could appease them and that such a drive to appease or submit came from the tales she'd been told about the family. False or not, the Old Gods would never be forgotten for any Southron religion.

"They're not mine either, we simply must keep the majority of the smallfolk pleased, for it is they who give power to the Faith. Father fears someday soon the Faith Militant will rise once more, sooner than we wish and far soon than we'd like," Rhaenys gestured, again, to the Sept of Baelor. "If I were him, I would see the Sept destroyed or taken by our family. The Gods of Old Valyria would do well in Westeros, and if not they, I find myself enthralled by the Lysene Goddess. Do you know of her, little sister?"

Try as she might, Visenya didn't remember much, if anything, about Lys as a whole. Much like the dragons of old, there was no true reason to learn about the Lysene people, their Goddess or their culture. It was but one more place that she would never see, experience or visit.

Who knew, that much change now?

"No," she said softly, embarrassment colouring her cheeks. Rhaenys might act aloof and sweet at times, and other times attached and cheeky, but under that rougher outer shell was an incredibly educated and seemingly cunning girl. She would be the one to keep by her side if Visenya wished to remain safe, and cared for and embrace her role in House Targaryen.

"The Lysene pray to her for they believe her to be the Goddess of Pleasure, she keeps them cared for in all ways, including the flesh. She would do well in Dorne, where all are treated equally," Rhaenys leaned down, and with her face lingering near Visenya's for a second or so, smiled wide before she pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "What next might we see? The beach, maybe? I shan't take you to it, but there are better views than those your room has. Maybe you would like to see the Queen's ballroom for guests?"

Visenya bit her bottom lip. Rhaenys raised a brow and motioned for the younger girl to speak, and so she did, tentatively. "Could we enjoy the view for some time? I don't wish to ruin any tour you might have planned in your head, but the view of the city and what it has to offer is very enjoyable. As you guessed earlier, with so many new sights to see, how wouldn't I love to memorise them all?"

"We can stay as long as you'd like, even if it sees us here until the evening," Rhaenys responded as she used her strength to bring the two over to the nearest chair on the balcony. It was clean, likely from the whipping of the wind and occasional rainfall, and colourful. "Sit with me?"

"Yes," Visenya answered, her tone still quiet and hesitant as she was positioned by Rhaenys' grasp into her lap as the older girl practically fell back into the seat. It was easily large enough for the pair to enjoy together.

"I think I'll take you to the Godswood later," Rhaenys mused as her hands rose from Visenya's hips to her hair, her long fingers massaging her younger sister's scalp. "I would ensure it's kept closed to others, so only you and I might enjoy it for a time. Would that be enjoyable, or do you wish to remain here — you needn't worry, none shall pass our guards, so let that not impact your decision."

"Is there a Heart's tree in the Godswood?" Visenya had thought she remembered hearing that all had been cut down by the Andals centuries ago. They had swept through the lands, killed the Children of the Forest and the First Men even as they aligned with one another to combat the Andals and stolen all they had possessed all the while destroying their trees, their places of worship.

It was another grievance that the Northerners never forgot, and seldom forgave. If a list were to be made, it would be long and menacing, and the Southron people would have much justice to face.

Rhaenys shook her head with a morose look on her face. "Unfortunately, there is not — 'tis a fact that all who worship the Old Gods remind us of. But what might we do? Plant one? If we managed it, I do believe those who keep to the New Gods would cause quite the issue over it."

"They would be wrong to do so. The Crown protects those who keep any faith," Visenya wiggled around atop Rhaenys and huffed when she couldn't reach a true level of comfort. It was most tedious until the older girl's arms wrapped more tightly around her as she pulled her flat against her larger form.

"Be still and relax," Rhaenys said into her left ear, her voice a whisper as her hands delved back into the crown of silverish hair atop her head. "There is no need to wiggle around as you do, 'Senya. Enjoy the howling of the wind and the smell of rain on the horizon… say, do storms frighten you? Aegon will be cross with me, but when he was a babe, he would oft crawl into my bed at the slightest hint of thunder or lightning."

"I enjoy rain, snow and hail, and whatsoever brings them. It is the heat I find unbearable. If I could, I would live in a land of constant snow, though I know that to be a life that would be most difficult to live," Visenya sighed as she rested her head atop Rhaeny's chest. The older girl was soft and comfortable, and the beating of her heart was cause for a great sense of comfort and safety despite the despicable nature of most people that were now near her.

In the North, there was no need to keep oneself concealed from others. There were seldom dishonourable, treacherous folk, and when there were, the smallfolk or Lords would handle them with the justice they deserved; if not executed for laws that they had broken, they would be sent to the South, where they belonged.

It would come as no surprise that others who fled to Essos thrived in bands of sellswords, and of them, many were nought but killers regardless of what they said. One she remembered was a Lord of Bear Island, a Mormont, and he had been one of the worst types of men that had caused much anger for Lord Stark — Father — for the man had sold poachers into slavery.

Slavers, regardless of who they were, deserved nothing.

Visenya's breathing grew deeper, and slowly, with the smell of rain that Rhaenys had commented, she allowed the sense of tiredness to thrive. In seconds or minutes, she knew not, her eyes closed, her breathing grew deeper, and the soft, fleeting touches from Rhaenys sent her away into the realm of dreams.

It was a wonderful rest.

"... the need to ruin our time, little brother?" Rhaenys' voice spoke, barbed and bothered.

It was the first thing that Visenya noticed when she rose, her body still atop a softer, larger one. With the view slightly darker, and the clouds far heavier-looking, she could only suspect she'd slept longer than she'd intended. It wasn't as long as she could have, however, for she was woken by Rhaeny and Aegon as they verbally sparred.

"Ah, Visenya's woke," Aegon said from his spot loitering against the archway of the balcony's entrance and exit. "Good afternoon, sweet sister. It would seem you and Rhaenys have been resting for quite some time upon this balcony — be there a reason, or did it strike your fancy?"

Visenya made to speak, but yawned, a slight squeak escaping her throat in the process. Rhaenys cooed at the noise, her right hand immediately weaving itself back into her hair.

"Visenya wished to see more of the city in its entirety, and what better way to do so all at once whilst maintaining her privacy, than from this balcony? Guards or Courtiers that might have viewed us together, few in number as they would be, had not the chance to speak with us," Rhaenys smiled, happy. "Sisterly bonding time is ever so important, little brother. Mayhaps you'll realise bonding is good for you and important, and allow sparring to wait."

Aegon snorted as he approached, content to sit beside the two sisters. He fell with a huff and sighed in relief when his body made contact with the padded furniture below. It was exceedingly evident that he felt sore from his earlier work. "Not all of us have the ability to do as we so wish or desire, Rhaenys. I am to be King when Father decides to abdicate, and when that day comes, it is expected of me to do all that he has done and more, and better than he."

"It's expected of every King, Aegon, but how many follow through?" Rhaenys asked with a snort and grin when Visenya squirmed, her hands delving deep and soothingly atop her head.

"All the more reason for me to do what most cannot. My time with Visenya will need to be had in the evening when I can make the most of it and whilst she's free. I imagine come a fortnight or perhaps even one moon in its entirety, her days will be full up from the wishes to dine or speak with her from our many hundreds of guests," Aegon nodded and held up a hand when Rhaenys opened her mouth. "Yes, Rhaenys, many will come to see and speak with her. Most will desire an audience with the youngest child and now available daughter of King Rhaegar. Many would see a girl such as our 'Senya, with her looks and bloodline, as the most desired bride-to-be thus far."

Rhaenys huffed under her, perhaps for multiple reasons, though her words conveyed only one. "None shall have her."

"None shall have her," Aegon agreed, pleased that they agreed about Visenya's future. He addressed her next. "Visenya, might you wish to sup with me tonight? Rhaenys, of course, is welcome to come along with you — lest I forget, you have a meeting with Mother and Father tonight too, do you not?"

"I do. Father wishes to speak with me, though about what, I do not know…" Visenya looked at Aegon for a few seconds, enough to make eye contact, and when she noticed the intensity therein, she broke it. Again, and as before, Aegon's eyes and the look on his face filled her with a sense of worry.

The most recent words shared betwixt her siblings did little to ease such worries. 'None shall have her' they'd said, and yet, what was she to do short of marrying the person she so desired? If they meant to give her freedom, that would include the freedom to do as she so wished, obviously short of leaving their family.

"Nothing serious," Aegon said with a shrug.

Rhaenys nodded under her, the older girl's dark hair whipping upwards on account of the wind. "Aegon, for a change, speaks correctly — Father will speak with you about the North, as he said, and I suspect about your future. Mother has said she stands by whatever decisions you make."

"Decisions?" Visenya couldn't help but ask.

Neither sibling answered in a meaningful fashion.

It was hours later, and now away from her siblings and at the entrance to her Father and Mother's chambers — the King and Queen of the realm as she still thought about them the majority of the time — Visenya paused. Strange she still believed everything to be, and yet, she had been told to speak with the two on the morrow, and that had occurred the prior evening.

She swallowed, her nervousness giving way to calmness and a desire to learn what would truly happen to the Starks. It had been a topic avoided whilst they'd been on the road, and think about it as she might, the only reason that came to her was one that was sinister; if they wished not to tell her whilst they'd been travelling, it could not be good. They likely feared an attempt that she would flee, and if that proved to be the case, the Starks would most assuredly be in trouble.

How could she help them?

"Princess," came the calm, collected and cool voice of Ser Velaryon, the King's usual companion — Visenya had learned that position had originally been Ser Dayne's, until he'd been felled; he was said to be the Kingsguard who always stayed with King Rhaegar and offer cousel. Even she'd known that from her life in the tower. "You are cleared to enter, the King and Queen await you."

Visenya dipped her head at the man and did as he said, entering through the door that he opened for her and stepping through, the sound of it closing behind her not lost on Visenya. It didn't make her feel trapped or locked in, she'd felt such a way since she'd reached King's Landing, but… it wasn't all negative. Rickon was here, and worried as she'd been, he was treated fairly, as was she.

For now, the lingering disbelief and festering thoughts added as her eyes fell upon the two most important members of the Royal Family. The King and Queen, and the two of them were seated together with glasses of wine in their hands and as she entered, their heads turned to her.

"Daughter," the King said.

Elia, the Queen and a woman she felt incredibly comfortable around on account of her kindness and gentleness smiled at her and opened her arms from her seated position. "Come, daughter. Sit with us."

Visenya's feet padded across the cool stone floor. As soon as she'd entered the room, she'd ditched her shoes — they felt unnatural to wear in any bed chambers. In her tower, she'd never wear them. There was no reason to, for little time would she spend outside of it, and the floor was littered with furs and rugs that her father — Lord Stark— had insisted she be given.

"Our beautiful girl," Elia cooed in much the same way that Rhaenys had hours earlier as Visenya allowed herself to be pulled into the Queen's arms, the older woman weaving her hands through her hair with more precision and expertise than the aforementioned Princess. "Every time we do so see you, 'Senya, it is like viewing one's greatest treasure… you won't repeat such words to your siblings, will you? I fret they'd grow jealous of you. Think of it as a secret between Mother and Daughter."

"I'll not tell them," Visenya said, a slight smile coming to her face; she was reminded then, without even needing to be, why she so loved Elia, the Queen. Who couldn't?

"Shall we get to it?" Rhaegar asked, a slightly sour expression on his face. It was as if he wished not to discuss what they were going to in a short amount of time, and yet, they still would. It had to be done for her piece of mind and he knew as much, King, that he was.

"Yes, y-Father," Visenya said, the seriousness and the expression on his face nearly made her slip up. Sometimes, and when she saw a serious look on his face, the Queen's… anybody that she had formerly been far subservient to, a nervousness filled her. It was twice as severe when it was a Targaryen, though by now, that needn't be said.

"Lord Stark was wrong to keep you from me, but I will put your mind to rest on the foremost matter of importance — I will not execute him nor his kin, I will not banish them from the realm and wish as I might, I shan't take from them their home. I know it would be counterintuitive toward building our relationship if I were to take from the Starks in any capacity," Rhaegar looked at Elia, the sour expression growing on his face, and the woman nodded once, resolute and determined. "That is why it will be said that the Starks were keeping you in accordance with your Mother's desires, and now, the time has come to fulfil the obligation they agreed upon, that being to return you to where you belong."

"They'll not be punished, then?"

Elia patted her thigh. "Lord Stark will be, privately, but to the realm, there will be little that happens — the North has been bled enough, and lest we stir up grievances that have festered over many a year, this is the best course of action. It is not missed by your Father or I that punishing the Starks would cause a split in you as well, for they are your family in your mind as much, if not more so than we are… that will change in time, we hope."

Father, the Starks… they're all safe. They'll be safe. I just need to continue as I am. They're safe.

Visenya smiled, relieved that the Starks would be let off easily, and in the King's opinion — she could read it easily — far too easily. She did so believe that it was thanks to Elia that he was so easy on them, mayhaps even a few of his advisors… she wasn't certain just who he'd spoken about her with.

"It will, I promise you," Visenya finally got out when she noticed the two pairs of eyes on her. She wrapped her hands together tightly, the blue of her veins showing as she spoke to them with the utmost care and truth in her tone. "I will do as you wish, I… thank you, Mother, thank you, Father. The Starks, I know they should not have kept me from you… thank you for showing them mercy. I'll be good, I swear it."

The King leaned forward and wiped an errant tear that Visenya hadn't noticed. When next he spoke, his words caught her by surprise. "We would do much and more to earn your trust, and your love and see to your happiness, Visenya. I do hope you'll see that as the moons pass us by — we will move past the minor repercussions and reparations the Starks will give to the Crown, and let us think and dwell on this matter no more."

Elia raised her glass between her and Visenya, a light, goofy look on her face. "Here's to that, my Loves."

Visenya agreed, shared a glass with the Queen, and spent time with her parents, the two that truly claimed her as their own. Free from politics, the Starks, and the world, it was nought but them and a chance to bond.

She enjoyed it; the guilt came only later, under the cover of darkness, until it was driven off by a warm, sisterly body that cuddled up to her.

"Well, don't you look like a treat?"

Visenya's eyes batted open at the voice, and when she blinked her bleary eyes to focus them on the person beside her, she couldn't help but snort. Rhaenys was beside her, leaning over to look at her face more clearly as one hand drank a glass of wine; it was but the morning, and yet, she seemed attached to wine nearly as much as Elia did.

"Is it time to rise, sister?" Visenya asked with a yawn. She felt quite tired, she'd felt tired and lethargic since she'd left Winterfell, but what could she do? Her body simply hadn't gotten accustomed to the South yet. It would in time.

"Soon," Rhaenys said as one deft hand swiped the hair out from Visenya's eyes as the errant strands moved in sync with her head. "We have a guest that is due very soon, and in the evening, another. Each wishes to meet you very badly, though I do believe the latter might wait to do so until the next morn."

"Daenerys?"

Rhaenys nodded. "The time we thought she'd arrive was, perhaps, a bit off, but we received word today that she's soon to arrive. Viserys will join us later, and afterwards, so that you might grow more accustomed to the rest of our family, Uncle Oberyn and many of his daughters will visit us next."

At that, Visenya felt queasy. As much as the Targaryens might have accepted her, what were the thoughts of the Martells and Dornish as a whole? One might argue that a majority of the realm was still, as of yet, unaware of her existence… when she was common knowledge, would she be scorned and hated?

"Relax, sweet sister. I see the look that's set upon your face, and I swore to you already that Uncle Oberyn will not hold the sins of a Father or Mother against the child. In his own words, children are innocent of sin," Rhaenys leaned down to kiss Visenya's forehead with a touch that lingered, and then she pulled back with a smile and gestured to a steaming bath in the centre of her room.

It was strange that Visenya hadn't been woken up by the effort of the servants that had brought it in. They must have been exceedingly quiet — her eyes widened and her head snapped to look at Rhaenys. "Did th—"

"I wasn't laying next to you, not that it'd matter. Most would assume I joined you atop your bed rather than lay beside you in it, and those that we allow in here, few in number as they are, owe their loyalty to House Targaryen. No other house cares for their servants the same way that we might," Rhaenys yawned then, and huffed with narrowed eyes at Visenya. "That's your fault. I was not yawning until you did so, sister."

"Sorry?"

Rhaenys huffed again and wrapped her arms more tightly around Visenya as she rose, forcing the smaller, lithe girl to do the same. "No more apologies from you," the Princess said, her tone shifting to that of what she'd use in an official capacity. "You needn't feel obliged to do as I'd say, though I'd love it if you always listened to your big sister. Only Father and Mother have their words as law, and even then, you need not defer to them. Aegon and I are proof of that."

Visenya nodded, a feeling of being chastised running through her for a fleeting set of seconds. When Rhaenys kissed the back of her neck thrice over, Visenya finally was allowed to stand and so she did; her older sister slapped her rear when she did so.

One look over her shoulder at the older girl revealed her to be snickering at her, and when Visenya tried to narrow her eyes in much the same way that Rhaenys had done, the Princess shrugged. "Forgive me not, you're too cute."

In response, Visenya pouted and rose a delicate hand in the direction of the adjoining room. "Please," she said, her meaning clear. "If you'd like to, you could choose an outfit again… I enjoy your tastes when they mix with mine."

Rhaenys grinned, opened her mouth to speak, closed it, and hopped deftly off of Visenya's bed. She came around and stopped in front of Visenya, and sans words, the older girl pulled the younger into a tight, loving embrace.

"I love you, 'Senya," Rhaenys said, that same quality in her voice when first they met. Mayhaps the older girl was a bit handsy and teasing, inappropriate and possessive, but again, without her, Visenya would be far more isolated and without companionship.

It was, truly, very nice to have a friend the likes of Rhaenys. After all, who was without faults?

"Aegon," Rhaenys greeted, the older girl not so much as stopping as she exited Visenya's chambers with the aforementioned girl trailing after her.

"Hello, Aegon," Visenya echoed with a polite smile, her eyes avoiding his. She'd come to dislike the intensity of his gaze, though she'd say that, like Robb, he was a handsome-enough boy. There was just something in the way that he looked at her that she disliked.

"My two beautiful sisters," Aegon responded, his smile widening even as Rhaenys glared at him when he put himself distinctly between the two Princesses. "We have our Aunt Daenerys to go and greet. We're to join her, Mother and Father to break our fast — she grew distracted on the way here, as you might imagine, but still, she made good time."

"I would say so. I wasn't expecting her quite so soon, Visenya's only had two days here and already our sweet Aunt wishes to meet her," Rhaenys' eyes fell on Aegon, her look purposeful even to Visenya's eyes, but the Prince ignored it and whatsoever the look was supposed to mean.

The trio moved through the halls then, with three Kingsguard and nearly twenty guards at their back. It felt excessive to Visenya, the numerous guards that trailed behind them or that were present at various sections of the Holdfast. Perhaps the North was far safer, she knew not, but it was not her place to judge by any means.

As she noticed that and paid little attention to her siblings as they walked their minute or so journey, she nearly failed to notice the abrupt halt they had come to. Her chambers were incredibly close to the King and Queen's, and they had stopped so as to announce their presence before they entered. With the Starks, you'd but knock and enter; this felt less familiar even if the family was warmer with one another.

"Enter, children," Elia's voice rang out as they waited, only a second at the most passing them by.

Aegon pushed open the door before the second word was properly finished, and with an encouraging look and minor nudge from behind at the behest of Rhaenys, Visenya followed their brother in. Behind her, and when Rhaenys was fully in the room, the door was closed, and the Targaryen family was one step closer to having every member still alive in the same space.

"Visenya," Rhaegar said, the man speaking as he rose from his seat to his full height. As always, he looked regal despite the slightness of his build, and his face shined all the more so; he'd looked so very happy whensoever he saw her, and yet, if it were possible, he looked as if the very Gods of whatsoever he believed in had given him everything he might have wished for and more. "Meet my sister, Daenerys — your Aunt, despite the fact that you're narrowly her elder."

"Brother," huffed a sweet, girlish voice before a figure stood. She was even shorter than Visenya, though her build was curvier and her figure fuller from her thighs to her breasts. When she saw the girl, Visenya felt inadequate despite the constant compliments of Rhaenys. "You're my twin that Rhaegar's been telling me about… might I call you sister? I dare say we could pass for one another."

Rhaenys snorted but remained silent as Daenerys neared Visenya. Mayhaps the eldest Princess shared the same thoughts that Visenya had.

"You may… Aunt?" Visenya looked beyond the smaller girl and at the King and Queen — Mother and Father. She'd nearly called the girl Daenerys, as she did with her siblings, and then her mind had defaulted to Princess when that didn't work. Aunt, she had included in a second's time, would be best.

In the blink of an eye, the very slightly shorter girl was standing before Visenya with her head cocked to one side and her eyes wide open with interest clear to see.

"Might I?" Daenerys asked, one hand tentatively indicating Visenya's hair.

In response, Visenya shrugged. She didn't mind if the girl touched her hair, though it was a queer request on account of their hair being much the same. The colour perfectly matched, their eyes seemed to do much the same, and even their faces looked similar, though Visenya suspected her own was more angular in comparison to Daenerys' rounder, softer appearance.

"It feels the same as mine," Daenerys said in wonder, and after practically petting Visenya as she was, she dropped her hand and pulled the startled girl into a firm and warm embrace. "We're going to get along very well," and then she whispered away from the others. "I do hope you enjoy pranks, we look too much alike not to pull some of our choosing."

And then she separated, her hands staying firmly on Visenya's body.

"Would it be poor of me to call you beautiful?" Visenya asked, a small smile forming on her face.

Daenerys shook her head, her long hair whipping back and forth as she moved animatedly. "Not in the slightest — we're beautiful. It just means you've looked in a looking glass enough to recognise that. Come, sit with me, I wish to hear all about you. Rhaenys and Aegon have had their time."

"I hav—" Aegon started, but Rhaenys stopped him with a cuff upside the back of his head.

She seemed to take Daenerys' side as the near-perfect copy of Visenya pulled her along much like Rhaenys would until they reached the very couch where Rhaegar was seated. As soon as they did so, Daenerys sat down and Visenya slid down beside her, the two pressed together closely with Rhaegar on Daenerys' other side.

"So, Sister," Daenerys started with a teasing smile as she clasped their hands together. "What do you enjoy doing?"

Visenya blinked at the girl. That wasn't the question she'd been expecting. No, Visenya had thought she'd be asked about her life with the Starks in the North, or other questions that would pry into her previous life as a bastard Northerner. In fact, as far as she could recall, that was the first time such a question had been asked.

As she thought about it, such a question was harder to answer than it should be.

"I enjoy nature and horse-riding, and reading. History, tales of love, anything that's words upon a parchment," Visenya said after a silence of nearly ten seconds as her thoughts rattled around. When Daenerys blinked at her without speaking, her eyes peering into Visenya's, Visenya felt a well of panic and she spoke again. "What do you enjoy? Daenerys?"

By the Gods, Visenya hated being at the centre of attention for all of the Targaryens, of anybody. It was horrible, and it felt as if they were examining her and taking to a mental parchment everything that she did so say.

Daenerys, meanwhile, smiled. The other girl didn't offer words of assurance that drew attention to her odd feelings and inner turmoil. Instead, she seemed happy and carefree as her hands stayed clasped around Visenya's, content with her presence and the words that she could extract.

As for her response after a lingering smile, it wasn't what Visenya had expected.