'When you play the Game of Thrones,
You win.
Or you die.
There is no middle ground.'
In which the Princess of the Storm is spun into a whirlwind of chaotic events, all beginning with a single choice to choose Lord Eddard Stark as the new Hang to the...
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VALENCIA DREADED THIS DAY, SHE WISH IT HAD NEVER COME. Her wedding. Just the thought made her blood boil, all she wanted to do was leave, run away with Jon like she wanted to. But he turned his back on her, in a moment she most desperately needed him. And he just left, as if everything they had said and done together meant nothing, that her feelings mean nothing, that everything that had occurred in the past two months never mattered to him. It may have been nothing to him, but it was her chance at escape, to prove something, to actually find love. But he left her, and now, she was to marry his brother.
She felt deflated knowing that Jon didn't choose her, despite that she would've chosen him over anything.
It broke her heart in all honesty, and even though they hadn't been together for long she still felt the strong connection between them. Even though Jon tried to cut it, he had merely wounded the long ebony ribbon that was their love.
Violently, Valencia's head snapped back from her place in the tub. She laid in a wooden tub filled with milky lavender essence, the softness of the goats milk soothing her skin, turning it soft and smooth. Her head rested on the edge of the tub, where an elderly woman assigned by Cersei to prepare her for the wedding nastily tugged on her raven ribbons. She was considerably old, with hard hands and no respect for another persons scalp.
As if Valencia wasn't already dreading the wedding, having her hair look a mess wasn't helping either.
Valencia's head was bent back, the old woman ripping at her roots with her boney fingers. The Princess' hands gripped the sides of the wooden tub, trying to stifle her cries of pain.
It was late afternoon, her wedding ceremony mere a few hours away. She was too be cleaned, stitched into her dress, with her hair braided, and her skin needed to glow to a beautiful ivory. She had to look pure when she came before for the Old Gods. A knock sounded at the door, the old women growled under her breath and stood leaving Valencia's hair. The young girl sat up in the bath and turned around, wanting to know who had come. There were a few harsh words that Valencia couldn't hear, then footsteps headed her way. Her eyes widened and she almost leaped out of the bath seeing Lilith looking to her.
"Lilith!" She beamed, the water splashed as she tried to grab her blanket.
The brunette held up her hands, a gentle smile on her lips. "It's okay, you can stay in there." She glanced to the old woman and excused her, just as Valencia saw a basket full of different coloured flowers in the crook of Lilith's elbow.
"Where have you been?" Valencia asked with genuine concern.
Lilith smirked and held up the basket. "During Theon's rambling he told me of flowers that grew not to far from the castle, I thought you'd like them."
Valencia grinned, "show them to me," her hand outstretched motioning for Lilith to come closer. She did as commanded and revealed the blue flowers to Valencia who began grinning.
