'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 WAS BREAKING HER FAST, HER MIND SOARING WITH THOUGHTS OF LEAVING. She had been nothing but the talk of the camp, gossip traveled fast in these close proximities, especially when it involved the King and Queen. She had sent ravens to the her Lords in Storm's End and Castamere that her return would come sooner than later, and that the North was possibly no longer an ally. Call her petty, call her stupid. But Valencia was either going to have to stay with Robb and rule beside him, or return South and continue her reign as the Storm Queen. She chose the latter.
Robb and Valencia had not spoken to one another since their argument, neither shared a tent, or broke their fast together. It was if they were old friends that were avoiding each other at all costs.
Her handmaidens had mostly kept her company, along with Edric who was as Valencia assumed, just like their father.
He was loud, humorous, and not to mention, he could hold his drink. Valencia had noticed he had made company with some of the women lurking about. She warned him not to do anything he'd regret, but Edric was a Baratheon, and they were known for their impulsiveness.
Valencia sat beside Edric, both of them breaking their fast over beef sausages, brown bread with melted cheese, a cup of wine in front of Valencia. She had been quieter than usual, and her once magnetic eyes seemed lifeless, dead weight in a hard skull.
Edric was the first to break their silence. "You can still turn to Stannis," he said, stuffing his face with some bread. "I'm sure he needs all the men he can get?"
"Stannis already rejected my offer, my army lies further South."
Edric frowned and raised an eyebrow. "South? Why is your army in the South?"
Valencia sighed and leaned back into her chair. "House Martell hates the Lannisters just as much as we do, with the Dornish on our side, we can take Kings Landing," she explained.
"And what about Stannis? He won't give up easily, he's a stubborn fuck."
The raven-haired girl pouted her lips for a moment of thought. "We take Dragonstone first, with the right equipment, enough boats and soldiers, it shouldn't be much of a task," she explained, biting her tongue as she thought of a plan.
"What about the cliffs?"
Valencia pursed her lips and answered. "We take it in the night, scale the cliffs and disengage all defences. Then we let the army in."
Edric nodded in agreement, "and what of the Dornish cooperation? Will they do it?" He asked.
Valencia slumped in her chair sipping on her wine. "I've sent a raven to Dorne to arrange a meeting to discuss the war, and our alliance," she answered.
Edric noticed the annoyance behind his Queen's eyes, "and?" He questioned.
Valencia sighed, taking another sip. "They have yet to reply."
