Vitoria Martell had one goal in her life: gain revenge for the murder of her aunt and cousins.
𝙰𝚛𝚛𝚢𝚗. 𝙱𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚘𝚗. 𝙻𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛. 𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚔. Those were the names on her list (in no particular order) and that's why she sees the com...
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The reality of court leaving did not truly strike Vitoria until she saw Luna directing Jory on which trunks her and Sansa's belongings were to go onto a wagon and which were to stay with them on the back of the wheelhouse.
Vitoria felt her heart squeeze painfully as Rickon's pleas to Ned reached her ear, the four-year-old boy begging to be allowed to go with his father and older sisters. She wanted to comfort Rickon, to say he would have fun with her children, but Vitoria knew it was not her place. Despite how it could seem to a newcomer, to someone who did not know who they were, she was not his mother. It was not her place to say anything when his parents were present.
Rickon would need to grow up soon and she would not be able to coddle the child as she had not done so with her own now. She'd be forced to treat the four children as if they were dornish, growing up in the desert her family had long ruled over. Her children and Rickon would not be given the luxury of growing up as sheltered wolves. The world was changing and she had to prepare them for it.
It was the idea of the girls' departure which was forcing tears to her eyes, however. Despite her initial attitude when she arrived in Winterfell, Sansa had been the first person to break down her walls; the first member of the Stark family she bonded with. It wasn't that much later that she was bonding with Arya. The bonds she had with the girls were very different, but they were real and strong. The thought of them leaving, for an indefinite amount of time did not sit well with her.
"You look uneasy, Princess," Draco said as he sidled up beside her, a gentle smile on his face.
"Everyone is leaving to go that thrice-cursed Red Keep," she said bitterly, "and, Draco, for the last time, call me Vitoria. We've known each other long enough for that."
And they had. Draco was Arianne's age and from a noble family in Norvos, the youngest son of one of her grandfather's friends. They had met when they were children and enjoyed the time they had together when she visited her grandparents. When he turned ten, he had announced his decision to become a sellsword, but being so young he did not leave his home yet. And when he heard of her betrothal to the Stark heir, he had decided to travel North with her as part of her guard. She trusted those who had traveled with her for her marriage and those who had stayed even more, but the trust she held for Draco ran deeper than most.
"Then I suppose you and your husband will have to double your efforts in continuing with your litter of children," As Vitoria turned her eyes up to look at Draco, a gaze of steel in her eyes, he affectionately touched her cheek.
"I don't know if I want another one just yet," she allowed him to wrap his arm around hers as they started walking. "With everything that is happening, it might not be the best of ideas."
"Last I heard, you told Lexa you despised having to drink moon tea," she could tell Draco was smirking before she looked up at him.
"I don't like the taste of it, that is true," she admitted, her voice low now that she saw Lannister servants coming. "But things are changing and I don't think it would be the best for me to swell with another child now that this is happening...and I don't know how my body would react to it. I got pregnant the first chance I got after having the twins, but my body couldn't cope. I refuse to go through such a thing again."
