'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'S BLACKENED EYES NESTLED ON THE LARGE SHIPS. She stood at the mouth of Shipbreaker Bay, on the banks as she watched Stannis' ships draw closer to her shores. He would not take Storm's End, she vowed that he would never take her rightful home. Valencia's thick lips were pursed, her arms crossed over her chest, Lord Lomas of House Estermont by her side as well as her new handmaiden Astraea. The grumpiest woman she had ever encountered, though Valencia did find her presence enjoyable.
Lord Lomas was a distant cousin of hers, and she had never met him before. But he was the first to bend the knee, pledge fealty to her, and name her the Storm Queen. After a discussion with all her Lords, she had named him her temporary Hand, he took the honour with smile and a bow.
But one thing that had to be dealt with as soon as possible, was the impending arrival. Many of her Lords vowed that they would fight off Stannis and have his men beheaded for betraying their rightful Queen, as much as he brought joy to Valencia's lips, she objected to their violent acts.
She would meet with Stannis and attempt to come to a compromise, if he refused her terms however, she would bring the storm she wielded within and break the sky above him.
Valencia had less than fifteen Lords remaining, the rest had fled to Stannis or Joffrey, while few remained loyal to her. Among these fifteen Lords, between all of them was over 20,000 men, she only prayed it was enough to fight off Stannis.
"A storm is coming," Astraea's heavily accented voice spoke from the slopes of Shipbreaker Bay.
Valencia glanced to the sky, watching as the grey clouds swirled with coming viciousness. "It does look like it, doesn't it?"
Lord Lomas spoke next. "I believe it to be a sign, Your Grace. A sign of your greatness this day, I do not believe Stannis will agree to your terms. He will not bow to a woman."
Valencia inhaled sharply, her dark eyes turning back to Stannis' ships. "Then he will suffer for it."
"I must speak, my Queen. That this storm reminds me of the one of your birth," he admitted, turning himself to fully face her. "It was a ravenous storm, harsh and cruel. Should this be as such, your victory is indeed intended."
"What storm do you speak of?" Astraea frowned.
Inhaling sharply, Valencia turned her head to her new handmaiden. "When I was born, a storm ravaged the land from Dorne to the Wall for ten days and ten nights. Many said it was something no one had seen for thousands of years, and yet, it was created the moment I was born from my mothers womb." Valencia turned from the curious Astraea and back to Lord Lomas. "There was also a tale from my home that the true Princess of the Storm would be born asleep, that her skin would be the sky, and her breath foreign. She would be dead, but as the first lightning struck the roof of her birth, she would awaken with the strength of the Gods. For she was their messenger who would decide who lived, and who died."
