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...
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Rhaenar and Aegon had taken many rides in the time that they sat waiting for this Jon Snow figure to turn up, each returning to the mountains. Rhaenar had her theories that it was the Vale but Aegon begged to differ, thinking that they'd flown in the opposite direction. They would watch the sun rise from west, the hues of orange and red blending with the purple and dark blue to the east as the wind brushed at their hair.
Rhaenar remained nestled into his side, her head leaning back on his shoulder as the two of them would continue to just stare out despite the frantic breeze. Warmth was a rarity in those mountain ranges, especially at the height they were. "We should head back." He mumbled, not entirely sure himself if he wanted to as the midnight blue eyes remained transfixed on the horizon.
"Do we have to?" It earned a chuckle, her lip quirking up before settling back down. It was nice to get away, to stay here without worrying about anyone. Often, it reminded her of her dream, of staying in a snow filled place where the worries couldn't touch her. His arm wrapped back around her shoulder, tugging her closer as they remained unmoving.
Rhaenar had found a new peace here, one where the smile returned for just a little. "Come on, before they begin to worry. You heard Tyrion before we left, there was a boat soon to dock."
She bit back the groan, but not the slumped shoulders as she made her way to Leirion, running her hands over the scales as she climbed back up. They hadn't worn their armour yet, none of them had as they settled themselves in the safety of Dragonstone; it would only be once they see war that she'd make them wear it. "What do you think he's like?" Rhaenar asked as she settled herself onto Leirion.
Tyrion had mentioned Jon Snow before, but never what he looked like, how he acted. Even Melisandre had met this man, and spoke highly of him. "Does it matter? He's Northern, all northerners are the same. Long faced, moody, and have a high sense of pride. They're strange men." Aegon dismissed, climbing onto Rhaenys.
Her brow rose. "I'm supposed to be Northern."
He laughed. "Yeah, and at times you are long faced and moody."
