Chapter Text
Wretched.
Terrible.
Vomit-inducing.
The earth trembled, the sky was in a storm, lightning illuminated the sky, the snow slowed everything and froze the wheels of the carts.
And you were undeniably destroyed after the evening spent drunk with your mother.
You had not even had the strength to laugh when your father had found you asleep on the chairs, your brain was exploding in a hallucinating headache, your hair was still kept in braids and hairstyles, but with locks that had shot in every direction, escaped from the ties in the night movement, the fireplace without anyone to feed it had gone out and had left the cold air to filter the rock joining the headache from alcohol to that from cold. Stretching your legs an unsettling crack had resounded through the whole room while you tried to get up from the armchair, your father sighed so heavily that it moved your hair.
Despite everything he did not scold you, or say anything in general gently shaking his wife's shoulder while you limped around the table stretching all the sore muscles, your mother on the other hand woke up with bloodshot eyes and a slurred voice mumbling curses about the back pain and the ailments of age, preferring to remain seated a little longer to recover, after all- you cursed her silently- she was not the one who had to make a month-long journey to King's Landing.
Accompanied by a couple of the servants you were sent to the bath to wash yourself, along the corridor you crossed Alice who was already full of energy, with everything under her arm to prepare for the journey, the look she gave you as soon as she saw you was miserable.
“You look like you slept in the stables big sis.” she said leaving her path for a moment to follow you towards the tub, in the meantime you kept your gaze low, concentrating on not tripping on the carpets or losing your balance. “I gave myself to wild joy. Last evening as a Stark I imagine.”
You left the women to prepare the hot water while with not little concentration you tried to undo the few braids you had from the night before.
“You still have a month of travel before losing the name technically- dad said we have to go all the way to Dragonstone- I can't wait- there will be everyone and- and-” she stopped realizing the murderous look you were throwing at her, an embarrassed pout painted her lips “Sorry. Yes. I- go to get dressed.”
And she darted out like a fury.
The hot bath was really a godsend for the nerves, you were given a tea for the pains in your head even if it helped only in part, you let yourself soak enough to feel your fingers wrinkled, outside the window you could hear the back and forth of knights organizing the carriages for the long journey, in the moment you had not noticed it, but your father had come to look for you at dawn, probably worried when he had not found his wife in bed, so you still had a little time to enjoy a bath. You let yourself be helped to wash your hair and arrange it, you would probably make more than one stop along the journey, your sister specifically was not used to routes so long and far, much less had she ever been in the capital.
It was difficult to say if the weather would be adverse to you or not, it snowed at alternating moments, but the worst of winter had yet to arrive so it would not be tragic in the long run. You wore heavy layers of fur and the usual cloak, breakfast at the table was of few words with your mother who continued to turn the spoon in the tea without too much joy, Alice even if she did not want to admit it was happy about the journey and tried to behave well despite her gaze snapping from one corner to the other ready to leave, your father had not joined, preferring to chew dried meat while giving orders and helping his men.
“Will you bring Whisha with you?” Asked your mother interrupting the quiet of the hall, the question pressed heavy on all three of you. You had mulled over it more than once since you had returned home and presenting yourself to the Targaryens with a white beast at your side was a presentation not exactly passive. But thinking about it well, what Aerion could represent for you, what he could do before, after and during your marriage you realized that you could not hide the sleeve forever, you had grown up together, it would have been destiny, if you would fall by the hand of your husband you would not have wanted to leave part of your soul wandering alone in the ice.
You cleared your throat looking at your mother with calculated coldness, a tacit agreement that you exchanged under Alice's inexperienced gaze.
“The Targaryens have killed their dragons. I will show them that the Starks still have the favor of the old gods.”
-
And that was how you had found yourself riding the first days in the snow, perhaps fueled by that morning nausea that did not leave you, perhaps with a visceral anxiety that you did not want to admit out loud you had ridden at the side of your father and the knights, farther from the rest of the carriages where your sister resided most of the time, no matter how much time passed, the horses were terrified of Whisha and you could not really blame them. You had met that direwolf when you were very small, running in the snow chased by your mother you had the bad habit of playing hide and seek without first warning her. During a journey not too far from home you had slipped along the muddy ground and fallen into a pond finding yourself soaked from head to toe and unable to find the road from where you had come.
There you had found an albino direwolf cub.
What originally you believed was only a wild dog, white with deep red eyes was sitting not too far watching you cry trying to clean yourself from the mud.
You did not know where the rest of the pack was, she had never returned there, you were small and naive, you tried to pet her and she did not step back, your mother found you not long after with clothes dry of earth throwing the stick to the direwolf (who perhaps brought it back to you more out of pity hoping to make you stop crying).
You were daughter of a terribly religious woman and instead of going mad, as another mother should have done, she prayed and thanked the gods for such a gift. Direwolves had not been seen for centuries beyond the walls, she believed it was a sign that you would be blessed by the gods destined to save the north from heretics. Whisha for her part did not do much to convince her otherwise, it was not necessary to attract her with food or capture her, she was small more than you at the time and from that day she became your white shadow in the snow.
You had brought her with you everywhere, in good or bad fortune you had decided years before that you were two pieces of a single being and perhaps you were selfish to believe it, but you thought that she would not live in a world without you and you felt the same for her. Not to mention that Aerion wanted to know if those stupid rumors were true and you would show him the truth, that these beasts were not tied to the Starks like the dragons were once united to the Targaryens, but that you were connected with a beast on the edge of the legendary and this (you hoped) would convince him a little to take you more seriously.
Inside you were afraid that he could use it against you, Whisha was strong and broke bones like a boot bent the autumn leaves under their weight, but she did not make miracles, if the dragons were dead she too was not immune to the weapons of men as you yourself had seen her wounded on the battlefield, but again, you could not leave her behind. She was part of your power, the marriage was a political disaster, but also a sign that without the legendary beasts the Targaryens lost authority over the seven kingdoms. They needed allies and friends, the north could not offer much, but this marriage was a patch in a kingdom that was beginning to see the children of the gods lose ground under their feet. Now at the level of mortals they had to act like all the other nobles- marriages, agreements and wars, Aerion needed you as reassurance that the north would not betray his family, but dragged into that game you could and had to do your best to cover his back.
It would have been a long and stressful job, that little time from Ashfor had made you understand that everyone was afraid of him, but they also had the courage to speak badly behind his back and react, paradoxically your friendship with Lyonel perhaps would come back useful, you knew that the man hated the royal family and you could not blame him, having him as an enemy was not a good thing for anyone, making peace between the two would have been a first good move.
Ironically you thought how the conversation would go if you had spoken of your fears to your mother, if she would have advised you to fuck him too.
Even if unlike Daeron you had enough familiarity with him to not really have to convince him. You had already explored greatly that intimacy between you two.
The brief conversation after the tournament still burned you- you cared for him, he was a good man who found himself far too often victim of his emotional outbursts, he would be at the wedding and it was difficult to say if it was positive or not.
-
In the end your sister vomited on the side of the road.
Maybe because of the swaying, or the climate that warmed little by little as you moved away from the north, but she was not used to so much travel. And foolishly she had decided to dress well as soon as you had crossed the borders, as if there were a risk of meeting noble families at every corner.
“Corsets have always made you feel sick.” You snorted looking out the small window, closer to the city you had changed once again after a brief stop, putting on clothes more suitable for two nobles who were about to meet the king of the seven kingdoms and his offspring, but the road was still long and she had had to give up lunch after a stop unpleasant to describe in words. Your father had worried in the only way he knew- which in the short term was throwing long tense glances hoping you would solve the matter for him. So you had kept her company, made her change into a less tight dress and decided you would keep her side inside the carriage to distract her with some light chatter, even if this meant keeping Whisha with you (more to not terrify the roadside villagers).
“Between the two the most nervous one is me. I thought the prince frightened you, but now you seem to have forgotten him.” She snorted fanning herself with a fan with quick flicks of her wrist.
“I am enjoying the peace before the marriage. If we are lucky we will be under everyone's gaze for barely a whole day, maybe two. And before that with the whole family-” you pointed a finger at her with a hard look.
“Do not play jokes with the Targaryens. Speak to them as little as possible. They are already all promised to their cousins- ah and do not comment on this thing for the gods- or the dragons- or the tournament-” she waved her hands in the air rolling her eyes “Calm down, I know mom.” she mocked in an infantile tone, but did not insist.
“And anyway now that you will marry Aerion I will end up with some noble from the north. I do not care about creating problems for you- I have already given you enough.” The air suddenly became heavy and the direwolf perceiving your discomfort came closer to rest her head on your legs pushing her nose on your fingers to convince you to pet her.
“It would have happened anyway. For better or worse. The only one we could blame here is our father. The strength of the north is inside it, not outside.” You murmured petting the beast, the long tail wagged hitting the seats in a muffled ticking.
“He tries to do his best- how was he supposed to know the Targaryens would take the thing seriously-” she tried to excuse him looking outside while you crossed another forest, you however did not share the same opinion and were far too angry about that whole story to let it go as usual.
“His best? He is the lord of the north. Everyone counts on him, but without our mother at his side he would be little more than a puppet. We have had so many rebels lately it's embarrassing. The royals have lost power making themselves ridiculous and the people rebel against the nobles of all the kingdoms. It is an insult to our family, the Starks have always taken care of the north instead now we look like common tyrants, slaves of false gods.”
The look your sister threw at you was tense, like every other aspect of her life she was little used to being scolded with sincere spite, you still did not understand how your mother had let the rope so loose with her, perhaps frightened that using the same methods with which she had raised you she would run away from home armed with an axe following your trail, both of you however were convinced that Alice had taken far too much after your father's character.
“Since when do you believe in the gods anyway? You always say you use them to fuel the soldiers, now you speak of insults to traditions?” She diverted the conversation without much surprise on your part, “My faith has no masters or names. I believe in what happens, we have walls that defend us from undead beasts, dragons that crossed the skies and dark magics. I prefer to call them gods rather than curses. Especially now that I am about to marry an heir of such a lineage. Perhaps the gods will listen to my prayers now that I will be closer to the sky than to the earth.”
Silence filled the small space again, Alice seemed to have forgotten she had vomited breakfast a few hours earlier or at least her mind was now focused on something else.
“Does Aerion really believe he's a dragon?” She suddenly asked petting the direwolf between you attracting her attention “So it seems. He broke a girl's fingers for a puppet show where a dragon died. He certainly takes it seriously. Who knows what he would have done to her if no one had stopped him.”
She shivered throwing you a tense glance, her voice lowered almost frightened someone might hear you “Doesn't he scare you?”
You made a grimace passing a hand through your braided hair, you wanted to keep at least a minimum facade in front of her so as not to worry her too much, but inside you knew it was not healthy to keep pretending, it would put you on the same level as your mother raising her in lies that made her fragile “It is not the most absurd thing I have heard a man say. Certainly Aerion has his… artistic vein. Of the various things I have heard about him the puppet story is perhaps the least bad. Even I would not have found funny a show where they killed a direwolf. But satire is part of the fun of the common folk. A way we have to give them a little freedom and leave them calm. If you pull the rope they will feel oppressed and rebel. You must find the middle ground.”
Alice seemed to think about it for a long time before answering you.
“What would you have done?”
You looked at Whisha with softer eyes, the beast seemed to read your mind and licked your hand.
“I would have slit their throats with my bare hands.”
You burst out laughing when she jolted with a shocked expression, “That is not funny! It is horrible to say!” She complained hitting your knee lightly settling back on the seats to avoid your teasing smile “Come on, it was a premarital joke. Anyway-”
You gently grabbed the soft fur of the beast to kiss her forehead, she growled softly closing her eyes “I would never find funny a show where they kill a direwolf. But as I said, irony is a release for the plebs. It must be allowed within certain limits. I probably would have shown up there with Whisha to watch, I would have complimented them and left. You know to remind them that if they do it it is because I allowed it. It's a game of balance.”
“I don't like it. I don't want to be cruel.” She muttered still offended, used to your acid sense of humor that she had always hated anyway, “Cruel would have been breaking a puppeteer's fingers. Do you like the servants? The fortress? The hot water and oils? Then you must keep the place. Do you think the Starks have a castle because we asked kindly? You must guide the people or they will eat you when they have nothing left under their teeth.”
The air cooled again, but less tense, more melancholic even though outside the sun illuminated your embroidered clothes in lively multicolored reflections, your sister's eyes got lost in the void, looking beyond the houses and the green, lost in some childish fantasy. “I thought that would have been my husband's task.”
You laughed loudly.
“Of course- councils exist as a joke. It is well known that men alone know how to make wise decisions.”
-
At the port a numerous crowd was lost as far as the eye could see, a Targaryen wedding was always an excuse to give a few days of celebration even though only a restricted circle was then invited to the actual event, finding yourselves at the other end of the regions and making few appearances in those lands you had certainly attracted a lot of curious people. While the carriages crossed the streets fenced by the guards your sister leaned out at every corner to look at that sumptuous city so different from home earning a brief bark from the white ball of fur that perceived your growing discomfort.
“Do not behave badly. You are here as the bride's sister, not a court jester.” You murmured acidly without ever turning to look outside, the journey had not served to calm the nerves and pretending that all this was not happening had worked until the moment had come to get down. Alice realized how your mood had suddenly changed and sat without protesting.
“How- how should I behave? Like- I bow to the royal family and to the nobles-” but you shook your head “and why ever? We will soon be related to royals. The only ones you must heed are the Targaryens. Gods- you took the etiquette lessons right?” She blushed “Yes. It's just that I’m nervous.”
The carriage stopped a couple of meters from the pier, outside the trumpets sounded while your father's name was announced loudly, a small smile painted your lips watching him from a corner of the window, you knew how much he hated attention and eyes on him, he was a great chatterer, but only with his closest friends and the knights who served him, for the rest he had the reputation of being a marble face, few words in a heavy tone and deep sighs. At first glance nobody would have said he was such a passive man.
Alice leaned on the glass behind her that was covered by a colored curtain to peek, you jolted when a sound similar to a mouse squeak came out of her lips.
“Is that your husband? I mean Aerion- I mean the Targaryens?!” You leaned out as well surprised, actually looking beyond the coachman's seat that had now gotten down to take the horses' reins you could see better farther away, even from a distance the ivory colored hair shone with its own light, impossible not to recognize.
Valarr was there shaking your father's hand, beside him Daeron and Aerion, plus another you supposed was Aemon flanked by the royal guards.
“The dark haired one is the future heir to the crown. Address him properly.” You cleared your throat “the boy with short hair is Aerion.”
“Should we get down?” She asked hesitantly, with her gaze lost in yours she looked much younger than her age, seeing her so close to the royal family now almost reassured you, knowing that you had managed to bring them so close without ever crossing her life with theirs (not in an intimate way at least) was all the reassurance you needed to face that damned marriage.
“Wait until they call your name.” You gently grabbed her wrist attracting her attention, you could feel the beat pumping in her veins or perhaps you were perceiving it through Whisha who was now sitting ready to spring attracted by the loud noises outside, you smiled at her trying to seem reassuring “Head high eh? You walk up there, bow in front of them and climb. You are the future lady of the north. You are and will remain Stark even when you marry, remember that they need us more than we need them.”
She took a deep breath, moving the hair in front of her shoulders, touched her neck where a necklace of dark stones rested lightly turning it between her fingers nervous, before arriving there you had changed into your official clothes, she with a long layered skirt of a turquoise tending to green, on her shoulders the house cloak, one of the symbols that most screamed your origins perhaps more than the emblem itselves, she had arranged her hair in small braids and had put on the few precious bracelets that had been given to her on the day of the sixteenth birthday.
You instead by tradition had worn a long light blue dress, covered in white embroideries that drew flowers on the whole bodice and held small precious stones to adorn the chest area and the high collar, the cloak had a lighter fur on the shoulders, but above all you aimed to make a good impression thanks to your direwolf.
As much as a part of you wanted to truly enjoy a quiet wedding you knew those days would be a battlefield and you were about to present yourself armed.
Finally your sister's name was called, a knight opened the carriage door and she grabbed the man's hand to descend the two steps, holding the skirts with the free hand to not trip, outside the general noise had lowered in tone, but when your name was pronounced every murmur ceased completely.
“-future princess and wife of Aerion Targaryen.” echoed like a hangman's sentence.
You stood before getting down to reach your sister's side who kept her eyes fixed on you (perhaps not to get too agitated under the gaze of the crowd), touching the ground Whisha descended at your side causing not few astonished cries and various kinds of jolts, but you kept your head high directed only to your future husband.
When you crossed his gaze facing him openly even if with meters of distance you could read the surprise on his features. All his wounds were apparently healed (at least those on the face), the hair had grown slightly by a few centimeters brushing his ears, dressed in an elegant red and black suit accompanied by a dark cloak. Even though Valarr was the heir to the throne he shone more than any other man like a dark hole that ate the light around itself.
Yet approaching with calm steps to the group of men it was clear that you were the one at the top of that spectacle.
The light reflected on the stones in the dress, the blue cloak dragged like a wave in the wind behind you and the white direwolf flanked you with head high shining with cold murderous elegance with her blood red eyes.
Your father was the only relaxed one among the five, the princes instead watched you undeniably captivated by that brief parade you had given them, it was what they expected from you of course, but you had given them something more to admire.
Aerion was captivated, caught off guard, if you could you would have skipped seeing how his gaze ran between your figure and the direwolf, everything he had asked of you was there and at least from the reaction you seemed to be exactly what he imagined. The beast was as big as a pony, with blood colored eyes and an unbreakable bond toward you, you were not a dragon tamer, but it was the closest thing to the divine for a man who believed himself to be a dragon. You only had to understand how to put it all on a plate for him and let him taste it to sweeten him toward you.
“your grace Valarr” you greeted first bowing your head in greeting to the future king, behind you your sister imitated you in silence, time seemed to have eased his pain, he was more relaxed, with deep dark circles under his eyes, but with a smile that seemed sincere, you had doubts he was truly happy to participate in the wedding of the cousin who had indirectly caused his father's death, but Valarr was destined to the crown, swallowing bitter bites was part of his place and he seemed mature enough to know that relatives are often the worst companions in life. He only had to decide whether he wanted to live with it or not.
Before you could greet the others Aerion stepped forward with a grin painted on his lips, he moved to grab one of your hands and gently kissed your knuckles “My lady, I am glad to see you after these long days. Your father was telling me that the journey went well.” He had a sugary tone that sounded terribly false to your ears after he had dragged you to bed with him at the Ashfords, at least he had a bit of decency in pretending good manners in front of your father who did not have a good opinion of him after all those premarital inconveniences.
“Your grace…” you murmured with an equally cloying smile, you turned toward your sister to put an arm around her waist and push her to take a few steps forward “I present to you my sister Alice.” The brothers bowed their heads greeting her while she tried to make a decent bow without appearing too tense, to your joy each for one reason or another none seemed to give her more than a glance, which could only bring you deep joy in your chest, Daeron in particular seemed so lost that you suspected he was already tipsy and the thought materialized when climbing on the boat you saw him walk on the ramp dragging his feet on the ground.
The crowd continued to wave banners and throw confetti while the ship set sail, your father joined the rest of his men to make sure that all the goods transported were secured (terrible excuse to have as little to do with the princes as possible) leaving you and your sister alone with the heirs.
“Must I suppose that given his absence here with you little Aegon will not be at the wedding?” You asked breaking the silence while watching the coast quickly move away, Aerion darkened for a moment, but it was barely a shadow before the usual smile returned “he decided he wants to be a squire for a while. We will not miss him.”
Before another acid comment could be spoken your sister squeezed your arm strongly pulling your dress “Excuse me- I do not think I feel very well-” and indeed the skin had become of an unpleasant corpse-like tone, all in less than a few minutes, surpassing even your resistance time the first time you had boarded a ship.
“Go to our father. He brought something specifically for this.” You told her letting go of her arm, “Whisha.” You ordered without looking at the beast, followed by two tongue clicks, she moved from your side to reach Alice and the two moved away leaving you alone with the royals.
“She is a wonderful creature my lady-” Aemon finally spoke with wonder in his voice, “I had never seen a direwolf in person. I imagined them… more gray. And smaller.” You followed the men below deck where a small room was set with foods and drinks, but you were not in the mood so you simply had a glass of water served.
“Whisha is albino. So- yes normally she would be more colored,” you told him taking a seat, making sure the skirt did not get caught in the wobbling legs of the table.
“Regarding the size I would not know what to tell you. Usually they are not even encountered in the north. However the tales have different descriptions regarding their dimensions.”
Aerion had wine poured and began nibbling some nuts, that curious spark in his eyes had returned together with an undeniable pompous air, he had definitely healed, at least in body. And all the arrogance of his status was there in plain sight as if he had never been humiliated, that minimal hold you had on him had disappeared, but he also seemed in an excellent mood, you only wondered if it was thanks to the marriage or if there was something else underneath, with a man like that it was difficult to say.
“You trained her well. Do you- do you think I could approach her to see her more closely?” Aemon asked again clearly more interested in analyzing her up close than talking about legends now that he was so close to touching her.
“I do not think I can give you a real answer unfortunately. Whisha is certainly not a trained dog, rather a beast with which I share a deep bond. What to external eyes seem like orders for her are only requests that I do not force on her, she acts to make me happy and I do the same with her. Petting her is a mistake I have seen many of my subordinates make. Men tend to forget their flaws, I have seen her break necks like twigs in the wind.”
At that moment if someone had dared to ask that was not a threat.
Rather a warning.
That creature was the figure that most represented what you brought to that marriage as a Stark, protection and violence enclosed in white fur, you were not there to become your husband's doll, but to remind that house that if they had come to compromises it was because they needed men and women of the north. And you had to represent your land with head high, in balance between the angers of your husband and the gossip of the rest of the nobles. You would not allow anyone to pet that direwolf, you did not like to be touched and you knew she shared that feeling, you said you could not control her if she snapped, but it was a sweet lie you served to maintain a minimum facade, you were the first to command her to tear throats and break bones.
Aerion seemed to share your thought because he snorted a laugh looking at his brother “It's an affront even to ask it. Clearly the creature is not a parlor cat like those of our sisters.”
The two exchanged a sour glance, but nothing surprising, it was only confirmation that Aerion did not get along with any of his brothers, you did not dare imagine what the other two ladies thought.
Valarr inserted himself in the conversation crossing his arms on his chest, he seemed less tense in the intimacy of the room, perhaps because surrounded by relatives “Whisha is a strange name. Does it have some northern origin by chance?”
You shook your head “Oh no. Only the foolish fantasy of a young girl I suppose. They mostly live beyond the wall and passionate about legends I decided to give her the name that seemed most appropriate to me for an albino beast. So I decided to shorten the name of the white shadows- White Shadows, whi- sha. Not very elegant perhaps, but I believe it is a deserved title.”
Daeron who until that moment had remained standing filling his goblet with wine finally joined the conversation with a hoarse voice, of someone who seemed to have just woken up.
“Too bad such a creature is confined at home. I imagine you will not want to put her in danger, but-” he stopped hearing you chuckle.
“I rode at her side up to the walls and throughout the north fighting at her side rebels and thieves. I would never force a direwolf to be a piece of furniture. She would go mad.”
Aerion stared at you without surprise, he had told you some time ago that he had heard something about you, clearly he knew you had handled a sword and he was not surprised, but the north did not chatter of its affairs outside its borders so you could still play quite a few hidden cards.
“Is that why they call you wolf blood? For the beast you carry behind you and for being a noble lady who goes into battle like men?” His gaze burned like two glowing embers, but it did not bother you, even if with a clear mind it should have been unpleasant as a sensation the way he watched you like a rare beast pleased you.
It was on that all the sympathies you hoped to feed toward you were based, the more he saw you as a rare object the more he would treat you with regard, he was a man who appreciated traditions and titles, you had to sell yourself and bend to his pleasure just enough to make him more tame.
“Oh no. That is a saying. Like the Targaryens the Starks have their legends. Normally the people of the north describe us as pale and melancholic, but the most eccentric of the family are nicknamed so. I made myself a… positive reputation at home.”
The smile you two exchanged was icy.
-
After making sure your sister had not repainted the entire ship with the contents of her stomach you left her to read a book, focusing on the words distracted her from the swaying, luckily for both of you the waves were almost nonexistent and the journey was short.
Your father seemed to have disappeared into his shadow of passive silence, you had caught a glimpse of him talking with the royal guards and Valarr and that had been enough for you to turn on your heels in the opposite direction, you only wanted an excuse to be alone for a few more minutes before having an entire court with their eyes fixed on you, but Daeron appeared out of nowhere ruining your plans.
“Lady Stark-” he murmured sounding embarrassed, clearly unable to decide on his own how to address you, after all you were almost the same age and held the same role as firstborns, even if he was the son of a prince and you a simple noble.
Who was about to marry his brother.
He truly did not know what to call you.
“My lord-” you pronounced his name softly, your mother's words echoed in your head and it made you uncomfortable to think about it, it wasn't that he was an ugly boy, but he had the same glassy look of every drunkard you had known, messy hair and an unsteady gait, he reminded you of your father in his worst moments, the heavy breath of alcohol and the slow speech irritated you, so much potential thrown at the bottom of the bottle, not to mention that the prince also carried deep red and purple circles under his eyes of someone who slept little and poorly. You knew he was some sort of visionary, but not much more, so besides the damage of drunkenness he was (at least by reputation) also unstable like your future husband, even if in a different way.
He however seemed to lose etiquette very quickly shaking his hands.
“I have to tell you something important. Away from Aerion- I…” he cleared his throat uncomfortably looking around as if his brother might appear between the beams at any moment, as far as you knew he was still below deck.
“My father and I- we have not yet told him that he’s exiled with you to the north.”
It was like receiving a kick straight to the stomach.
“Excuse me?” You asked turning completely toward him, he sniffed looking away, it was hard to believe that he was the eldest of the brothers, you felt like a mother with a small child coming to confess a prank.
“We have been very busy with rebellions and the death of my uncle created quite a lot of discontent- my father had to leave immediately and he left me with the task of telling him- but I-” he shrugged continuing to avoid your eyes, you instead were a mask of silent fury.
Now everything made sense did it not?
Why he was so cheerful, without too many worries, unaware of the family's punishment, and of the years he would spend away from home in a land that barely venerated his divine blood.
It was a disaster.
The wedding would be the next day and he had all the time to make it a literal hell for everyone. Especially for you who in the end would have had to give yourself to him in the evening in body as in soul. And the journey toward the new home and then alone IN the house-
You felt your breath fail, your chest painfully contracting while you thought of all the things that could go wrong from that moment on, he had not cooled down at all, he was a fire ready to be lit to devour everything it encountered on its path.
Unable to do anything, you widened your eyes, moving quickly closer to Daeron who jolted in surprise “You will tell him right now do you understand me?” you tried to force yourself to whisper, but the words came out like a growl passing through clenched teeth, he looked at you caught off guard, didn't expect such an angry reaction from you, after all he had seen in few hours were you with courteous manners, probably in his head you were a small thing that had ended up between his brother's jaws and he cared little.
“I will okay- I just need to-”
You grabbed the front of his dark tunic pulling him a breath away from your face, he almost fell onto you “You will tell him now. Right now. It is an order. Do you understand it or are you too drunk to grasp this simple concept?”
At that moment you threw away everything you had planned.
Every idea, the talks with your mother, the doubts on how to keep your sister safe, at what pace to play that marriage in front of a crowd of nobles who doubted the power the Targaryens had left, you had a new enormous problem and for once you would act differently. Putting aside calm and foresight.
What had your mother said? To sleep with the older brother?
Oh, you would have killed him at that moment if only you could.
He, still shocked by your sudden change in tone and manners, smiled tensely “Well. Perhaps you will manage better than I thought with Aerion…”
You leaned over his shoulder to make sure no one had come too close and with a quick movement of your hand you snapped the fingers in front of his face a couple of times.
“Keep your opinions to yourself. You must tell him now. Soon we will dock and your father and your grandfather will be there watching us. Aerion will not do anything foolish in front of them and perhaps he will not stab you.” He seemed to reason about it (or perhaps he was trying to keep a logical thread of thoughts behind his eyes, difficult to say)
“Look me in the eyes Targaryen!” You spat with anger in your chest, still quiet enough not to attract anyone's attention “I will be the one in bed with your brother tomorrow evening. And I would like to avoid being torn to pieces. So now you will do as I say. And I will keep both of us whole. So listen to me, and move, and maybe I will not give you as a snack to my direwolf. Understood?”
He had several questions swirling in his head, mixed with surprise and a hint of discomfort, but he nodded, moving away quickly, perhaps also to escape your grip.
You did not waste time and reached your sister who had returned to a normal complexion, the book closed in her lap while she took deep breaths, when she saw you she smiled happily “Big sis- I think I feel much better…” her tone faded seeing your dark look.
“Did something happen?”
“No. But something is about to.” You answered pulling your cloak tighter around your shoulders, even Whisha sitting at your feet stood up sensing your discomfort “I want you to stay as far away as possible from Aerion. He is an childish man who likes to mock. It’s likely he will come out with some of his nonsense. Do not answer him. Do not give him something to continue teasing. Stay close to our father. And avoid the rest of the brothers as well at this point.”
She raised an eyebrow confused “Ok- now you are making me anxious…”
“Good.” You interrupted her.
“Try to see the positive side. You will learn in the wolf's den. I doubt your marriage will be as disastrous as this one in any case. Once these two days are over it will all be downhill for you.”
The direwolf turned toward the main deck attracted by a loud noise, a maid was coming out of the deck with her hands covering her face followed by another older woman. They passed beside you bowing their heads quickly, but you still saw a deep cut on the face that was bleeding heavily.
“Oh well. It seems he took it well.” You murmured holding back a disgusted expression, more to avoid offending the poor girl in tears should she see you than for anything else, your sister instead stood up clearly more shocked “What’s happening?”
You stopped to look at the point from which the women had come out expecting to see a dragon itself break through the small wooden doors and spit fire on all of you, but there was no other movement from there. Except the sudden appearance of Valarr who entered disappearing behind the lacquered wood.
“They have just told my beloved future husband that he has been thrown out of his house indefinitely.”
At that moment your father approached with slow steps, hands clasped behind his back, the sigh he emitted once beside you was so heavy that it moved the smallest strands of Alice's hairstyle.
“A maid caught a shard of flying glass right in the face. A guard came to tell the heir and he ran below deck.” He explained almost as if responding to the younger girl's worried expression, but his eyes were placed on you with grave awareness, unable to speak openly as was his nature.
You nodded with a strained smile trying to lighten the atmosphere “I know how to dodge glasses.”
Another sigh.
If there was one compliment you could give your father it was that he sounded like a winter storm, in the way he moved, spoke, breathed, you could compare him to a snowstorm, he was not particularly tall and with the title of lord of the north his belly had also grown making him look more like an old drunk than a high rank noble, but he had a dark face and a gaze so narrow under the thick eyebrows that he seemed to walk with closed eyes. Even when he shook his head, (always with his usual slowness) his breath sounded like a cold judging wind, but he said nothing, he would have to speak far too much for his tastes in the next few days and he was already tired of it.
None of the Targaryens came out for some time. You cast suspicious glances at the doors, but the most you had seen were servants armed with bucket and mop, if glasses had been thrown then there were stains to clean, but the little movement made you hope that no one else had been hurt, somewhere- searching very deep you felt pity for Daeron who had had to give him the news, it should have been the father's task to do it, you did not understand what had gone through his mind, he truly had no excuses.
Those runaways desperately needed a mother, you could recognize in Maekar the traits of your old man, dark faced and gruff, but less harsh than they showed, you yourself were the perfect example, it was thanks to him that you had held a sword, he had given you permission to train a year at the wall and he had always been the one to give you the family armor to fight small outbreaks all over the north, he complained, said he was not happy about it, but he always let you do it. Your mother always said he was weak hearted for his only daughters, but Maekar clearly did not lack heirs and yet he seemed to have the same weaknesses, he left his children adrift for some sense of guilt that devoured him silently. You were lucky to have a mother who had kept you with a firm fist.
Not that she did not love you, it was clear that the difference in how you and your sister had grown showed how she had regretted keeping the reins so tight with you, but you owed much of your character to her. The north respected your father for the title, but bowed their heads to the wife for the tenacity. You did not feel intelligent enough to say exactly what was wrong with each of them, Valarr was not so problematic, but he was a boy raised to become king, just like before him his father, they were on two different steps of education and responsibility.
In any case it was daring to believe that their problems were born only from the lack of a maternal figure, Daeron was the one who had most enjoyed the company of his mother, but he also seemed the most lost. Certainly he had those phantom visions to torment him, and he was also the one who willingly or not remained more easygoing, also because he seemed to care little about the title or the blood. He probably hated it.
Just upon arriving on land finally the doors opened.
The brothers came out in order, it almost seemed nothing had happened except for Aemon's wrinkled clothes and Daeron's messy hair, but your future husband was a black shadow walking.
You stopped beside your father, near the docking point while doubts assaulted you.
You had to play your cards well, you knew your parents had argued about the place where you would go, your father had chosen it specifically to send you to a residence you were familiar with, you were good at pretending ignorance, but you risked too much in carrying forward such a big lie, you had to twist it all by blaming his family.
With the ship docked you got down on land, there was a small citadel at the base mostly of fishermen who bowed at your passage.
In front of everyone Valarr added some details about the island, interesting stories that passed through your intertwined thoughts about Aerion.
Climbing the path toward the castle you began to be seized by paranoia.
If you continued to avoid his gaze it would be suspicious, but looking at him now without saying anything would be as well.
You could say something, ask a question about the place perhaps, you were about to meet the king, you could ask something, anything, attempt a joke for absurdity.
So pretending to look around you slowed your step, to throw a glance at Aerion.
Your blood froze.
Aerion was burning your back with his gaze, he walked rigid almost marching he seemed to spit smoke from his nose, looking like an enraged bull ready to charge you with full force. When those violet daggers noticed you, you swore to see them tighten vertically, fear devoured your mind and made you believe you saw the feline gaze of a dragon, from what you had read those beasts had thin pupils, beastly, but deep perhaps more intelligent than humans themselves and if there was a way you could describe Aerion at that moment it would have been that.
You quickly turned to look forward again and cursed yourself.
You looked guilty. You behaved like a prey who knew she had provoked the wolf's den too much, who knew what the hell was going through his head at that moment, you did not know what Daeron had told him anyway and trusting that he would follow your orders was an illusion. After all had he not lied to his father about Duncan at the tournament just to avoid taking the blame for having lost his brother? He was a coward and perhaps he had placed all the blame on you to save his own skin.
You felt like a fool.
This family was not yet officially part of yours and they had already stabbed you in the back several times, just like Maekar who had not spoken earlier to his son to spare you the anger at the news, Daeron had nothing to gain from listening to you in fact perhaps he could use you as leverage to enter his brother's good graces, you knew little of the customs of the place, women here had little importance, after all had the Targaryens not lost all the dragons precisely because a woman wanted the iron throne?
The only leverage you had was Maekar and the king, he would not do anything foolish in front of his relatives, but they would not be there to protect you forever. And clearly they were not even trying.
At the entrance of the castle the man was waiting for you flanked by two little girls with white hair, both younger than you and your sister. Your father stepped forward to greet Maekar they exchanged a few words of courtesy that you barely listened to, and while you climbed the last steps your gaze got lost behind them.
The castle was immense.
Dark stone carved with a mastery never seen before. It was said that the place had been built thanks to magic and if at the time you thought it exaggerated now it seemed the only sensible explanation. Small dragons framed the gates, gargoyles and various demons were carved in every corner, the stone shone under the sun in a sinister way, despite being surrounded by the sea the most pronounced smell was that of smoke and sulfur tightening your chest in a tense grip, it oppressed you in a way you could not explain and ironically you thought that those eyes carved in stone were the perfect representation of that marriage that had been sewn onto you.
“Magnificent isn't it? Every corner of the house has a different dragon decorating the halls, the stairs… I will show you around later.” Aerion said appearing at your side, the tone cold, the smile he had displayed until that moment had disappeared making room for suspicious composure.
“It would be magnificent my lord.” You murmured clasping your hands together in front of your skirt, Maekar threw you a quick glance, he too had lost the ugly bruise on his face and had a fresh beard trim, the robe tidy and a long cloak on his shoulder that fluttered while he invited you to enter, he more than anyone seemed in his element now, perhaps he was not the most gentlemanly of the Targaryens, but he was the one who most resembled a divine heir maintaining composure even when his gaze fell on the direwolf for a moment longer.
Inside the castle it was even more gloomy, the shoes ticked on the stone surfaces and even the braziers on the walls were held by complex claw carvings.
You certainly would have said it was a place suitable for a family that had the reputation of mad and crazy conquerors.
“My lady.” Aerion caught your attention again, his arm extended toward you inviting you to take it “The stairs can be treacherous when one must still get used to the little light, I would not want you to trip.”
You swallowed the bitter bite that pushed you to shout a dry “no” and nodded tightening an arm around his while you lifted the skirt with your free hand just enough to see the tip of the shoe pass the first step, you tried to maintain a relaxed pose not to show the anxiety tightening your chest focusing your gaze on the dragon tail that was the handrail, the warm embers colored the stone in complex light games that reflected on the farther walls where the ceilings devoured every glow, if that was not the result of magic you did not know what was.
Halfway up the steps accompanied by the low murmur of the two adults talking about the journey you had faced Aerion decided to do what he did best.
The bastard.
You noticed it from the corner of your eye- but you didn't have time to predict it, he slowed and then stretched his foot onto the train of your dress blocking you midair and consequently making the tip of your shoe jam into the edge of the step, you lost your balance and clutched his arm strongly to avoid a disastrous fall.
The grin he gave you deserved a slap. A murderous instinct rose in you that you had to suppress behind a fake laugh “Perhaps one more window wouldn't have hurt.”
You joked not to give him the satisfaction of showing you angry, “Hold tight. I would not want you to hurt yourself.” His gaze fell down between you where your chest pressed against his bicep and you held back a grimace, returning to walk those steps with both hands around his arm, just to give him that satisfaction. You had to understand if being accommodating for the small things would make him happier and therefore he would focus on others to torment or if he would take it as a sign to push the limit farther and farther.
The meeting with the king gave no other surprises, it went broadly as planned until the younger ones were invited to leave to let them talk about future plans, together with the rest of the council only Valarr and Daeron remained, the rest of you were excused with the promise that that evening everyone would dine together, the rest of the invited noble houses would arrive in the morning a few hours before the official ceremony and so you greeted your father (whose annoyed expression was your only source of amusement at the moment).
Servants showed you your rooms, your sister was left in an elegant bedroom together with her maid so she could finally change and leave her belongings in order, you instead had a room on the higher floors, after all by tradition you and Aerion should not see each other that evening, his room was in the opposite wing just to maintain a bit of atmosphere, and in truth the news brought you nothing but joy.
The room was gloomy, the canopy bed was a carving of glossy dark wood, pillows, blankets and curtains were a mix between black and wine red, there was a private bathroom with a large tub in the center and various instruments in every drawer. When you looked at yourself in the mirror you felt miserable.
It was nothing like home, not so much for the appearance which in its absurdity was still fascinating, it's that everything in there screamed that strangers were not welcome and it was so blatant that it came off as tacky.
Even Whisha wandered around the room sniffing every corner with her fur standing on end, probably much more affected by the smell of sulfur and by that place so different from the forests of your lands. She still managed to pull a laugh out of you when she jumped into the tub mistaking it for an uncomfortable kennel, but you didn’t scold her, at least she had found something that made her feel at ease.
Once the servants had transferred your few things into the wardrobes you had changed into a lighter dress, always in shades of blue, you had left many of the necklaces in a small container on the desk and the cloak in a heap on the bed, you wanted to go out to make sure your sister was safe, but you were afraid of meeting Aerion or one of his brothers, you felt like a prisoner tightened by invisible chains, the castle was a labyrinth of corridors, rooms and draconic statues not even the presence of the direwolf was enough to calm your nerves.
From the window you could see part of the island and the other external structures, the sea was calm and the sky was starting to darken to pass into a more violet shade, looking down the surface was so steep that it made you dizzy forcing you to take a step back, you had to devise a plan to soften your future husband before the evening of the wedding, you didn’t even know if you would return home with the rest of your family or if you would join them later, not even your father could shield you from his anger, he had hinted little about where you would go, you knew the place, but not how and when you would face the journey, he had snorted and said that he had to organize all the details with Maekar in person.
You didn't know what to do, with so much to plan from scratch for your safety your brain was overloading leaving you with a white noise similar to a whistle in your ears.
You were so lost in your thoughts you did not notice that someone had opened the door without knocking.
Your nerves reacted before the brain connected, the sound of footsteps approaching made you turn in time to raise your arm and block Aerion's hand who settled for pressing you against the edge of the window gripping your wrist tightly, “You knew didn’t you?! You told him!”
Whether he was shouting because he didn't care about being heard or because you were so isolated that hardly anyone would notice you did not know and you could not say which of the two options frightened you more.
You stammered his name caught off guard, with his body pressed against yours and your back curved toward the window you struggled to breathe. “Knew what?” You murmured trying to gather the scattered thoughts, you grabbed his shoulder with your free arm to try to push him away, but he was a wall of muscles that flexed with force, you clung to the collar of his robe to recover a semblance of balance, gods, if he pushed you down you would drag him with you to hell.
“Do not play dumb! After the marriage I will be banished to the North, Daeron told me everything! I will end up in a residence in the middle of nowhere with you! It was your idea wasn’t it!?”
You shook your head thinking about how to answer him without fueling his anger, when from the bathroom with a leap Whisha climbed onto the bed in the center of the room at a short distance from where you were trapped by the Targaryen, with bared fangs and a growl so powerful that it made the heart vibrate to the same rhythm you could see the drool that dripped ready to taste the man.
The fear that painted Aerion’s face was priceless.
“Tell it to stay back-” he ordered looking quickly between you and the beast that slowly advanced on the large mattress, the claws tore a flap of blanket, the fur stood up on the hump making it even bigger than it already was making it resemble a bear more than a wolf.
“Or what will you do? Throw me down?” You retorted with more determination grabbing more fabric from the collar to tighten it around his neck. You exchanged a silent glance accompanied only by the growl of the direwolf, as a warning it snapped once making the prince jump and giving you the chance to push him away forcefully, Whisha jumped down from the bed to stand beside you and he while backing away quickly stumbled and fell to the ground.
“What the hell is wrong with you? Bursting in and making this scene?” You placed your hands on your chest to calm the beating of your heart, your fingers trembled imperceptibly, you wanted to wrap your arms around yourself and run away from that room that now more than before had made you feel in a cell, but you could not run away from that conversation, you had understood perfectly what he had come to ask.
He moved backward on the floor, but when he tried to get up Whisha advanced baring her teeth again and he stopped before clearing his throat.
“You were the one who told my father to send me to the north. He would never have suggested it.”
You made a grimace throwing away the saintly dress you had carried until that moment, the hostility clear in your tone- you had just passed an emotional collapse in the worst possible way “Oh sure. Because your father certainly asked me how to behave for the punishment to give you after the tournament.”
His confusion worked in your favor, he was accusing you, but he did not even know himself of what precisely, it was something that could work to your advantage, perhaps Daeron was not a complete idiot after all.
“As if I liked being sent back to the middle of nowhere immediately after the wedding.” The hatred in those violet eyes was hot like a flame, but it was less frightening when he looked at you from the floor.
“So you knew.”
You stepped beside the beast to stroke its head, she had stopped growling, but it was still tense, ready to leap on the prince, “Obviously. I was informed after our parents talked about it in letter. After all they are my father’s lands, he tried to find a comfortable place.”
He made an irritated sound moving his head almost as if to spit on the ground, but he continued to keep limited movements eyeing the beast near his feet “I can imagine what kind of hovel it will be lost among snow and poverty.”
I clenched my hands into fists offended as usual in the origins by that man of whom you had already had enough for the next twenty years “The hovel you deserve after making a fool of yourself with the Ashfords and causing the death of your uncle.”
The accusation came out venomous, with all the resentment you had held back for months expressed in a few words, none of that story was so simple, he was not the only culprit, you didn’t think he was the only one who deserved a punishment in that house, but surely he was the main cause.
He however did not take it well, throwing logic to the wind and jumping to his feet. Whisha did not need to be told twice and slammed him to the ground again with a loud thud, you saw him move his hand behind his back and you sprang like a coil, when the hand revealed itself armed with a long dagger you kicked the object from his fingers before stepping on his palm on the ground, he choked in a half scream, trying to grab the fur of the direwolf and finding little leverage to use, with the fangs a centimeter from his cheekbones he stopped again. Defeated, but not tamed.
Not with that look of pure hatred that he gave you.
So you pressed harder on the hand making him hiss through his teeth. Dragging the boot back and forth on the reddened skin.
“Hurt my direwolf and I swear on the old gods that I will exterminate your entire miserable Targaryen family.”
The threat remained suspended in the air for endless instants, the room by now was a battlefield and the air was growing heavier like before a hurricane, you would have wanted to rage, lose your head completely, after all everything had died right there. Every good intention, every lie, every way of presenting yourself, it was ruined and you didn't even care.
He had shown up in your room armed with a dagger and pushing you against the window sill, if those were not attempts at murder you didn’t know what to call them. But your family was at a disadvantage, your sister and your father would be punished if you had slaughtered their arrogant son there, perhaps a war would begin, but none of you would ever see its beginning.
“You think you can threaten me Stark? The north has no power against us.”
You, surprising him, laughed.
You bent down on your knees without moving the foot from the man’s hand who tried in vain to free himself, your hair fell in front of your face almost touching his “The seven kingdoms are just waiting for a misstep. You are not stupid Aerion. This marriage exists only to make sure the north does not rebel against all of you. And probably I will not be the last non Targaryen to marry someone of your relatives. Maybe you could manage to remove me, but I wonder how much longer your father will be able to tolerate your whims. I unlike you have been on a real battlefield.”
You could see how his breathing accelerated, he was full of anger unable to vent it and humiliated under your feet, he himself seemed to growl, “The Targaryens conquered the seven kingdoms and united these regions. We have extinguished every rebellion-” you spoke over him “-rebellions are different from wars. I wonder what figure you will make by canceling the marriage the day before the event in front of everyone. Yet another proof that you are not able to keep your word, Valarr is well regarded, but not loved like his father before him, already many families speak behind your backs.” The pout he gave you was almost childish, he retorted like a spoiled boy “And then we will put them back in their place-”
“And with what dragons?”
Oh, you would have dreamed of that face for the next months.
The disappointment, the pain, the shame mixed with anger and resentment, a storm of emotions that swirled in those violet irises, maybe you had just written your death sentence at that moment, but it had been worth it for a single instant that you would have wanted to relive forever.
“I am not your enemy Aerion. Tomorrow I will become your wife. I will give you children and protect our house. But you must open your eyes. Your- our family is collapsing and it is an internal problem, not external. I do not want to fight you, I want to watch your back. If you fall I fall. And the Starks do not lose, do you understand me? We have never lost the north, and we will not lose the seven kingdoms, if only you behaved well.”
You stood up finally leaving his hand which by now was a deep crimson color, you sat on the mattress with a heavy thud, whistling briefly to Whisha who after growling one last time at the man’s throat stood up to sit at your feet always fixed on him.
Aerion stood up with an uncertain step, holding his hand to his chest, he was embarrassed and you could only rejoice, but at least he really seemed to be thinking about your words.
In the end he murmured some dragged words “Technically. I was here to tell you that at the wedding you will wear a dress that I chose for you. And you will wear it.”
He turned on his heels and opened the door, but you called him back.
“Aerion… Whisha is what ties me most to my lands. Maybe she is not a dragon, but- when I close my eyes I can see through her eyes. And taste blood as if we shared the same palate. Marry me and you will have a legendary creature at your side.”
He looked at you over his shoulder before shaking his head “Keep the dagger. And do me the favor of carrying it with you in this castle. You will not always have a direwolf watching your back.”
And he left you there.
-
Dinner had gone mostly without incident, despite the clash with Aerion that had left a suspicious purple bruise on his hand the air had relaxed. Your sister ignorant of the last hours of turmoil in your room was the happiest to be there, she had been accompanied by the royal guards around the castle and had babbled the whole time about every creature carved into the rock, your father had concluded various agreements that benefited both families and only dinner remained.
You wanted to stop Daeron to thank him for doing as you had rudely ordered him, but there was little time to cross him after dinner and looking for him alone late at night in an immense castle was out of the question, you would have the next day during the festivities to approach him.
Everything had gone to hell.
You had to adjust the aim, erase every plan and rebuild them from scratch, by now you had resigned yourself that Aerion would vent on you, he seemed to have believed the lie that you had had no power in the choice of his punishment, but you had attacked him, insulted and humiliated him. It only remained for you to burn his house and you had done everything, you really felt like an idiot.
Going to sleep that evening before saying goodbye to your sister give you time to speak to her.
“Call Whisha, she will sleep in the room with you.”
She stopped halfway down the corridor, in front of the door a maid was waiting for her to help her prepare for the night, the direwolf had not left your side since you had been attacked.
“Uh? There will be dad’s guards at the door- and anyway there is no need right? Everything seemed quiet at dinner.”
You shook your head holding back from sighing, afraid that your sister would suspect something “It makes me feel calmer knowing she is with you. Tomorrow I will have to wake up early and prepare for the ceremony, there will be a continuous up and down of people and stuff, at least with you she will rest peacefully.”
The lie came out naturally, the need to know that both were safe from Aerion’s anger would allow you to sleep at least one or two hours, now you were the target of his rage and you were afraid that if you kept Whisha always close he would decide to target her as the first obstacle to eliminate to break you.
You had his dagger, it was your defense until the ceremony.
Alice did not argue and you said goodnight, in your room you had a hot bath ready, with the help of a woman you washed your hair to remove part of the process for the next day, tying it with a myriad of hairpins to keep it from tangling again in sleep, you thanked the heavens for having brought a long nightgown from home since despite having warmed the bed the cold air passing in the room made your teeth chatter.
The torn blankets had been changed while you were away, no one asked questions, but after all they could not imagine the gravity of what had really happened within those four walls.
You already had an unpleasant memory of it and you could not close your eyes.
You even retrieved a book to read under the candlelight, but you could not concentrate, staring at the ceiling lost in your fears. It was not the ceremony that frightened you, or the nobles and certainly it was not sex.
It was the after.
It was the whole life.
Then a light knock interrupted your thoughts.
Instinctively you grabbed the dagger you had hidden under the pillow, kneeling on the mattress ready to spring.
“Who is there?”
“Who do you think?” Grumbled the unmistakable voice of Aerion who this time had at least had the decency to knock.
Fear assaulted you again returning like a rogue wave, you moved to stand hiding the dagger behind your back “It brings bad luck to see each other the night before the marriage.” You tried to joke to hide the anxiety in your voice but he snorted, the fact that he had not yet thrown open the door could be a good sign or just proof that he was planning to take you by surprise again.
“Is this marriage not tragic enough already? Listen. Open the door, come out. I need to talk to you.”
At that point you were the one who protested petulantly “you can talk through the door.”
There was a long moment of silence, then another sigh.
“I know the direwolf is with your sister. Open the door. I am unarmed. I will not leave until you open.” you could simply stop answering and go to sleep, there was a key somewhere on the desk to lock the door, but it was the same as deciding to sleep in front of the den of a pack of hungry wolves, perhaps only making him angrier in the meantime, he would wear down your nerves.
You knew how to use a weapon, if the gods were charitable they would protect you.
You took a deep breath and opened the door. The dark corridors were lit only by some torches left for the coming and going of the servants, Aerion was standing a couple of steps back from the entrance, he wore long black silk trousers and on his shoulders a red robe open at the front that revealed his bare chest. The sharp shadows on the abdominals distracted you, the memory of having seen him fight at the tournament in his draconic armor made you shiver between your legs. You did not know what the hell was going through your head after everything that had happened, despite everything the man had not stopped being fascinating to your eyes and you hated him.
“So?” you asked waving the dagger in the air just to kindly make him aware of it. He pressed his lips into a strange expression that made him look very much like a duckling, he turned his head from one side to the other of the corridor before suddenly grabbing your wrist and dragging you out, you moved the dagger to his chest to point it at him but he didn’t seem to care.
“Swear it.”
He closed the door of the room behind your back trapping you between him and the cold surface, you had the tip of the blade almost pressed against the pectorals, but his eyes never distracted from yours.
“Swear that you have never lied to me. And that you want the best from this marriage.”
He pressed your wrist against the wood near your shoulder, the other hand brushed your cheekbone with the fingers before reaching the edge of the ear to push back an almost negligible amount of hair and then resting the hand near your head.
“Shouldn't I swear it to you tomorrow? In front of the gods?”
The cold corridors made your guts tremble, your nipples hardened from the cold, you swore you saw his gaze fall there for a moment, after all the robe was thin even if heavy, leaving your legs exposed to the wind, you had also avoided to put on your slippers thinking that if he attacked you with your feet on the rock you would have had less chance of fall, but now with the soles of your feet on the cold surface you bitterly regretted it, pushing yourself to do an embarrassing tip tap on the spot.
“Fuck the gods. I'm a dragon, I decide who you swear for.” He moved closer until your noses brushed, the hand holding the dagger bent to press the tip to his throat.
“Say that you're mine. That you will never lie to me. And I will do the same for you.” he murmured.
An inexplicable need to cry filled your eyes.
That monster had already been breaking you for a long time and you didn’t want to admit it, but now you felt it on the tip of your tongue, when those words that should have been humiliating for you instead had a sweet and salty aftertaste, the kind that caused addiction. Perhaps it was your punishment, for all those years as a sinner, having worn the armor, having spoken ill of relatives, insulted others, having given yourself to more men before marriage, it was your punishment for not having obeyed the traditions, impure and dirty like that horrible man you were about to marry, craving that madness like a reward and a punishment.
They would have been miserable years, unhappy like many other women who were given as prey to cruel men, like breeding animals to churn out children who would grow up poisoned by a kingdom that wanted them ruthless and cruel. You would have promised your body and your heart to that monster, without really any choice in the matter except to give in to yourself and jump from the highest tower. You weren't a coward, you would have done it if you had wanted to.
But you did not.
Aerion was as beautiful as he was damned, with a chiseled profile and the features of a god, the deep voice, the regal manners, everything about him was a virtue as much as a flaw and it was your greatest curse, so beautiful that you could not look away even if it hurt you.
It wasn't you speaking, you didn’t want to believe it, it was shame that made you open your mouth, while the salty tears fell from your eyes landing on the curve of your breast, murmuring broken words that sounded like the voice of another woman in whom you didn’t want to see yourself again.
“I-I’m yours- I swea-” but you couldn’t finish the sentence because Aerion was on you.
He grabbed the blade without worrying about the cuts he was causing himself, throwing it to the ground near your feet, without shame you leaned forward to kiss him, needy before he could do it himself, but he pushed you back hard against the wood of the door and then collapsed clumsily to his knees, leaving you breathless.
“You will give me the kiss tomorrow in front of the gods-” He joked with a hoarse voice, before slipping his hands under the robe, you had put on a pair of heavy panties for the cold, but they did not survive the arrival of Aerion who without even looking at them tore them easily, letting the shreds fall along your legs, he kissed your stomach in a trail of sloppy kisses also pulling the fabric with his teeth. In hindsight maybe it was ridiculous, but it excited you to death and only made you feel dirtier.
He lifted the fabric to have free access to the bare flesh, it was so dark out there that you could really see very little of what was happening between your legs, mostly guessing where he was about to move with the white hair that shone like ivory under the light of the embers, with one hand he pushed your thigh over his shoulder, the cuts on his hand dripped small drops of blood that left a trail along your skin, you could recognize the sharp angles of his cheekbones and the cold nose that brushed your skin while he kept kissing your mound, but instead of going down he moved to the leg next to his head to bite the flesh. Hard.
You let out a moan that sounded very much like a cry and a sob, running your hands through his hair to pull it as revenge, but he moaned and kissed the injured part before moving around, he left trails of saliva kissing and biting at alternating times without ever getting too close to where you needed him most, he had an iron grip on the flesh even finding himself pulling to reveal the trained muscle and bite that too causing various little cries of pain.
You were beginning to think he was there more to punish you than to give you pleasure, but it was hard to say since for the first time you seemed to be on the same wavelength, you were still soaked and you had no excuse for feeling so aroused by those bites. Yet the more the flesh warmed and grew wet the more the next bite lit a pleasant heat in your stomach that moved between your legs making you throb with need. “Aerion please—” you whimpered without shame, glad that the darkness covered the blush on your cheeks, you didn’t even complain when he moved away to let your feet fall to the ground, but you were grateful that he held you tight in his hands or you doubted you would have remained standing. Turning you like a puppet you didn’t think twice about bending your back to literally press your pussy on his tongue, with your cheek pressed against the wood searching for a bit of coolness and with your hands holding onto the stone edges you really felt like a complete whore, it was not even the worst thing you had done over the years, but there was something dirty in all of that, after he had threatened you and you had humiliated him in a continuous clash of beasts that were destined to stay together despite everything. Seeing each other before the sacred day on an evening that you should have spent praying for the mercy of the future.
You didn’t care at all that he laughed at you when you searched for his touch shaking your ass in the air, or when he blew on the folds shining with your pleasure making you moan loudly, the cold air was balsamic on the suffocating heat you felt, especially when instead of touching your center he moved to the thigh that was still unharmed.
He kneaded the flesh of your ass squeezing with so much strength that it made your hips jerk instinctively to escape the pain, the first bite he gave you on the back of the thigh just below the ass was so hard that for a moment you saw stars behind your eyes, you could not even scream because it took your breath away and you swore you could feel the wound bleeding, or maybe it was your juices that slid down your leg, it was hard to tell at that point.
He went back to biting and licking, now leaving marks also on the back of your thighs, you could feel him moan against your flesh, his nose bumping into the old bites now swollen and sensitive, also running his tongue over the raised spots where the teeth had left their mark, one hand had abandoned you, but you could hear the sound of fabrics moving and those damned growls becoming louder between your legs, seeing out of the corner of your eye a slight movement of his figure where the hand lost inside his trousers had grabbed his cock to masturbate.
Not being able to see him was torture, but you swore you could imagine him behind your eyes that were now crying salty tears of voracious need, you were ready to sob and beg him to finally touch your pussy when he took the initiative. He squeezed the flesh of one buttock to expose your dripping folds, the first long lick was terribly sloppy, but it almost was enough to make you come on the spot, you bent your back more in a painful arch just to be able to rest comfortably on his chin with your nails digging into the wood in search of a desperate grip. The lips closed around the clit letting you go with a relieved sob, so close to the peak that you lacked breath in your lungs, you rubbed your forehead against the door like an animal.
It was like a sixth sense when you turned and opened your eyes.
While Aerion's tongue penetrated your swollen folds at the end of the corridor, beyond the stone arch a small closed window overlooked the void, and in front of it a dark figure remained still. You recognized him from the wrinkled clothes, even though he was barely visible, with the moonlight hitting his long and disheveled hair, Daeron stood there watching the scene with wide eyes.
It was a strange reaction to describe, shame instead of extinguishing that fire in your stomach fed it in the opposite way, you swore that even if you were so far away your eyes saw each other. With Aerion burying his nose in your hole and the lips that sucked hard the clit new tears filled your eyes while you finally reached an orgasm with a whimper so pathetic and loud that a coughing fit rose in your throat immediately after.
With your hips trembling and riding Aerion's face and the tears blurring your sight you felt destroyed in body as in soul, humiliated in more than one way at the same moment, if you could you would have let yourself fall to the ground and would have fainted surrendered.
It took you a few moments to recover a minimum of breath and reason, if Aerion had not been there to hold you steady while he got up with a slight creak of his knees you would have stumbled standing still.
He helped you straighten your back covering your body with his, you felt a wet sensation when the hips brushed yours, the only sign that he must have come in his pajamas at some unspecified point, you caught your breath for another moment before he spoke “Are you there?”
Were you alive?
Clear-headed?
Had you just had an orgasm while looking into the eyes of your future husband's brother?
No, you were there, or at least you hoped so- so you nodded sniffing and wiping the wet face of dry tears. He took a step back uncertain, and after making sure you could stand he bent to pick up the dagger he had discarded, you turned again to look down the hallway, but Daeron had disappeared like a cold nightmare, almost seemed like a hallucination if it hadn't been that the shame had remained scraping your throat projecting images of his shocked expression before your eyes like a cruel joke of the gods.
You said nothing to Aerion who- probably with his face deep in your pussy- had noticed nothing, he opened the door for you, put the dagger under the pillow and made sure you slipped under the covers, the candle next to the bed had burned out long ago and the last thing you heard was the door closing behind him, left you to rest for a few more hours before that damned wedding.