The Dragon and The Wolf

AC 340

News of the Prince's death came as a great shock because it meant that Jaeharys Targaryen was not the Prince that was Promised. Despite being a good man, a man of honor he was not a politician. He could never sire a dragon.
Politics was the stuff that made the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros and The Cities of Essos. To be the King of these great worlds was not a small deed, that much was clear to all rulers for about 340 years. The world remembered what had happened 45 good years before this day.
There was the biggest war mankind had ever seen. Possibly bigger than the Doom of Valyriya and Aegon's Conquest. They remembered what had happened when Daeneys Targaryen had arrived in Westeros with her army, navy and dragons. Along with Jon Targaryen Stark and his cousins Arya and Sansa. It was not a feat for Arya to kill the Mad Queen Cersei. And Jamie Lannister had been exiled to the Night's Watch. Sansa chose to be in the Small council with The Hand Tyrion.
The Dragon Queen had married Jon. Their marriage had been an amicable relation, if not one made of love and the Queen sired a daughter, an heir Rhaella Arya.
Rhaella Arya learnt how to rule and did it with grace, helping her parents.
She had Viseryon to mount, for he was the only dragon from Daenerys' brood left after the battle. She married Lord Bramwell Tyrell of Highgarden who she did not love, but remained faithful nevertheless.
Then Jaeharys was born. He grew up in the love and protection of many. He was a skilled swordsman but Alas! He died of Cold Fever and took his wife Lady Elsa Clover with him to heaven. And this was a shock! A very great one that the Dragon dies of Fever! It meant that he was not the Dragon indeed!

This news had just come up in Castle Mormont and Visy Snow was reading it. She could ponder but do nothing about it of course.
The 18 year old girl was a companion to Lady Lyanna Mormont in addition to being an excellent swordswoman.
She had first appeared on the lady's doorstep in a basket with the word 'Vis' written on it and a cheap imitation of a dragon's egg kept in the basket. It was fake because an Old Maester had said so himself.
Everyone at Mormont knew Visy to be a tall vivacious girl with dark blonde hair. They said her sword skills were almost as good as Devon Stark's. Devon was the 23 year old son of Bran. But he was adopted. Still the new laws of the land made him the Lord of Winterfell. Devon had won all jousts held in the last 7 years in the North.
Visy was a cheerful girl and paid more attention to the laws of the land and her sword Dark Sister than household chores. Everypne assumed she would one day marry Vrystan Lannister, a far flung Lannister who squired for Lord Mandeleev. Visy and Vrystan practiced for hours. Sometimes she would let him win too.
They would talk about their future, their dreams, play in the North River, take their horses out to ride and race them, and sometimes just sit down on the riverbank. He had once kissed Visy on the lips too!
A day like this, she reminicised.
'Vrystan, if you become heir to Casterly Rock? What will we do then?' she asked him.
'Why Visy? You will come with me to live there. Leave behind Mormont Castle and throw that fake dragon egg into the river, darling! It won't hatch. You are not a Targaryen!' he sounded berating.
She was a bit disheartened but continued anyway' But Vrystan I like to keep it in fire, for the sake of fun only! I do not expect a dragon! But if I dream of one, it should be like Balerion! So fierce. And a Red Grower. Which grows completely in a week!' she sounded wistful.
'That is impossible Visy! Grow up will do!' he chuckled. 'I should see my horse.I will call upon you tomorrow.'
She remembered that moment and thought of today. Vrystan had seemed to anger her a lot the past few months. He would ignore her if he lost during sword practice against her.
She should have known it was coming. But it angered her. So much that she put the dragon egg in the fire and did not notice that her hands were in fire for a long time. She did not notice because she did not feel anything.
And she took a pail of water and poured it on her hair. The same hair that she dyed black every night and only Lady Mormont knew this. The strongest of dyes could make her hair only dark blonde. And with the water...the dye washed away. And she looked in the mirror and saw a young warrior staring back, a young warrior with silvery blonde hair that reached to her lower back, with skin as pale as moonlight and eyes deepest of the deep blue.