'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 EYES SNAPPED WIDE OPEN. She could feel her entire body become aflame with pain, yet with each moment, it began to fade. The pain burned in her chest, just above her heart and was slowly spreading throughout her body. Her eyes looked around the room, seeing she was in her chambers in Storm's End. Biting down on her lip, she forced herself to sit up, wincing as she did so. Reaching up to her wounded body, she grasped the bandages in pain, holding in her whimpers. Taking a glance around her room, she saw that she was alone and it was the early morning.
Memories of her dream drifted back into her mind, her father, that strange woman, and her words.
'You will know, that your time has come when the sea is aflame, the sky turns to ash, and the stones slither like snakes. Then and only then, will you know what to do.'
It made little sense, considering stones don't slither, the sea cannot be aflame and the sky cannot turn to ash. Whatever that woman said, she must have said it wrong, or it wasn't real at all. Valencia began to believe it was entirely just a dream.
The pain in her body subsided to a dull ache, though she didn't think that was much better. It was a lazy torture of some sorts, an appliance of pressure that could never be comfortable. Valencia was almost afraid that if she moved her arm, or breathed to much, the ache would become a hurtful throb.
"Dacey!" She yelled out, holding her pained injury. "Astraea!"
The first woman she called burst into the room with wide eyes, her armour still splattered with dry blood. Dacey, as beautiful as ever was a sight to behold on this morning, and her shocked expression brought some humour to Valencia.
"You didn't think I'd die that easily, did you?" The Queen smirked, though she winced in the end, holding her injury with a satisfying tightness. "Help me to my feet, won't you?"
Dacey hurried over, grasping Valencia's hand and wrapping an arm around her back, careful not to touch her injured shoulder and chest. Carefully, Valencia was lifted from the bed and placed on her feet that ached at the weight on them.
How long was I out? She asked herself.
"How long was I asleep?" She asked, speaking her mind.
Dacey unwrapped her hands from Valencia, though she was cautious of the swaying Queen and the pained expression on her face. "A week, Your Grace. We were worried you would not wake."
Valencia nodded, wincing and slightly hunching forward. "What has happened since I was attacked?"
"Nothing much, but myself and Lord Lomas have kept everything calm and the people assured that their Queen was fine. But, we were not sure if you would ever recover."
Valencia bit down on her lip, feeling her wounds begin to throb. "Were any ravens sent of my attack?"
Dacey nodded. "Yes, Your Grace. But only to your husband, and no one else."
