'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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FEAR COURSED THROUGH VALENCIA. She sat in her old chambers, with Lilith at her side, preparing her for the consumption of her marriage. Her heart thumped against her ribs, and her lungs contracted to twice the normal size. Her palms were sweaty, as her knees weakened beneath her. She sat at a dresser, looking into her own blackened eyes while Lilith undid the thick braids, leaving the ebony ribbons in beautiful waves. Her wedding silks had been stripped from her body and laid out on the bed, the beautiful silver fabric shimmering in the candle light. The thickness of the dress had left her bound and warm, with the familiar scent of lavender still on her skin, she thoroughly enjoyed the scent.
But even in her calmness of sniffing lavender, nothing could still the pounding of her own heart.
"Valencia," spoke Lilith, her hand taking up a thick layer of black hair, brushing it through softly.
Valencia hummed in response. "Are you going to be alright?"
The Princess wasn't to sure if she was. Many times she had been told of the pain that would follow during the consummation, and the possibility of blood that would flow from her womanly parts and stain the bedsheets. If she were to bleed, she prayed to the Gods that Robb would not care, and that he would not force himself on her, and that if they were to lie together, he would be as gentle as he always was. That he would kiss away her pain, and hold her lovingly, like she imagined Jon Snow would have done.
"I'll be fine," she croaked, not truly believing her own words.
Lilith spoke no more. For the next few minutes, Lilith allowed Valencia's hair to flow onto her back, tucking it behind her ears before applying a gentle perfume to the base of her throat, her inner wrists, behind her ears and underneath her breasts. She then proceeded to strip Valencia of her robe and dress her in a pristine, white night gown. It was long, and trailed behind her like a wedding dress, it was quite baggy as well with the sleeves needing to be tied at the wrists to stop them from drooping. She wore no small clothes to block her womanhood or breasts from the cold, but her chilliness was warmed by a light grey, wool robe that Lilith draped over her. The handmaiden fixed Valencia's hair once more before letting her out the door.
The walk to Robb's chambers were daunting, and terrifying. Valencia indeed felt pure, and clean, but after tonight's events, she did not think as much.
"You'll be alright," Lilith supported outside Robb's door. "Just...just be brave."
A shaky breath escaped Valencia's lungs, and she held back her tears. She had to go through those doors and met her fate, if she didn't, Gods know what would happen to her.
With a final goodbye, Valencia opened the door and came face to face with Robb. He was sitting on his bed, head in his hands, but as the door clicked shut, his blue eyes found hers. Valencia could hardly look at him.
