There were two babes in the Tower of Joy.
Two babes tied so closely to their parents, Ned had to make the decision.
One with hair like raven feathers, eyes as grey as steel, and a face of a true Stark. The other, with hair like moonlight, eyes lik...
There's a little smut in the middle but it's not there for long.
Ουπς! Αυτή η εικόνα δεν ακολουθεί τους κανόνες περιεχομένου. Για να συνεχίσεις με την δημοσίευση, παρακαλώ αφαίρεσε την ή ανέβασε διαφορετική εικόνα.
Rhaenar could see the field that surrounded her, the red grass flickering in the wind as she stood in the centre. It was open for miles, stretching as far as her eye could see with the tall blades and wild reeds touching at her skin. She reached out, feeling the soft prickles run along her palm, bending at the soft force. Rhaenar was confused, she had never seen this place before or knew where she was; or why the grass appeared to be shades of red rather than green.
She frowned, stepping forward; the crunch beneath her boot drawing her attention. An old piece of metal sat beneath it, long since rusted through years of harsh weather beating against the surface. Rhaenar crouched, reaching for it. It was the hilt of a sword, the black enamel cracking, coating her fingers in smaller specks as she raised it; eyeing the cross guard. There sat two silver dragons decorating the guard, heavily detailed with scales and a flicking tongue; red ruby eyes blinking threateningly, the weight heavy in hand. She looked down at it, seeing the dangerous glint not affected by age, but the opposite, fresh as though it had been forged yesterday; the edges sharpened and the point ready to pierce.
She rose the sword in one hand, a loud echo rippling in front of her. Suddenly, a thousand forces burst around her, their swords locking and clashing before ringing as they ground against one another; bodies turning to stop the incoming blades, their swords clanging. She looked down at herself, her own body lined in armour, a ruby red dragon emblazoned on the front. A soldier in green ran towards her, her other hand quick to grab hold of the hilt as she swung the sword; the sound whistling through the air before colliding. He had more strength than her, but she had the faster speed; relying not just on her sword but on her legs too.
Rhaenar kicked him, sending him to the floor. "Who do you fight for?" She screamed at him, her sword quivering at his neck.
The look in his eyes was one of confusion. "Look around you red; you're in a field of green." Another soldier's sword pierced through his throat, ending his life in seconds as she looked up to the newest soldier.
"What are you doing, Visenya? No hesitation, remember?" Rhaenar frowned, that wasn't her name and who was this man. His hair was short, dancing around his shoulders the same shade as her own; his face deep with a brooding look as his stormy grey eyes looked down to her. She had never seen this man before, his face unusual and long but slightly Targaryen.
"I- I-." He cut her off, stepping around the dead man's body before grasping her by the back of the neck, forcing her to look up to him. The grey were giving way to a ring of indigo around his own.
