Bronze She-Dragon

Chapter 11: Cold

YEAR 129 AC

The flight to the North was the hardest journey Daena had ever embarked on. Two full days took her to reach Winterfell. The flight above Riverlands, though long, wasn't that difficult. She landed Vermithor every five to six hours somewhere deserted, allowing him to feast on wild animals and recoup his strength. However, as soon as they passed The Twins, the freezing cold air surrounded the Lady, making her shiver and shake. The fur cloaks she was wearing weren't enough to protect her from the North's severe weather, which felt only worse when flying beneath the clouds. Whenever Daena felt like her limbs were going numb, she would scream Dracarys to her loyal beast, allowing him to release his flames in the sky. The Lady risked being burnt but this trick of hers, but, in her opinion, it was better than freezing to death. Gods were good to her in the end, for Daena reached Winterfell unharmed.

* * *

The residents of Winterfell led a comparably peaceful life, not meddling much with the affairs of the South. All of them were preoccupied with their daily affairs: the servants fetched the necessary to their masters, and the highborns entertained themselves with archery and hunting. A lot of them had nothing in common, until the very moment they all heard a scream coming from the sky, an inhumane one. Everyone, as if at that very second they became one, raised their heads, a look of worry frozen on their faces. They could see the cloud being torn apart by the wings of the giant bronze creature. A dragon... They all thought instantly.

And then there was chaos. The loyal men of Lord Cregan Stark ran to him, reporting the sighting. The women grabbed their children, dragging them to anything that could serve as a good enough shelter, the warriors were on guard and alert as never before. A sudden appearance of infamous in the North Targaryen beasts could only mean one thing: things were bad. Very bad.

As Daena landed Vermithor on the outskirts of Winterfell, she slid off its back, walking confidently towards the castle. The snow was cracking under her feet, and Lady Targaryen found the sensation quite interesting. A curious thing, wasn't it: Daena hadn't seen snow since she was a little child, since her time in Runestone.

The ancestral seat of House Stark couldn't compare to the Red Keep, which Daena concluded right away, yet there was something about it that reminded her of her childhood home. If only it wasn't for the nature of her visit, she would've allowed herself to reminisce for a little while, yet it was something she couldn't afford at that moment. The stakes were way too high.

Almost instantly, the silver-haired woman found herself surrounded by the guards of Winterfell. They weren't to attack, yet their hands were on the hilts of their swords, which was an understandable precaution: the objective of the visit was unknown to them, and the unexpectedness of it didn't leave them much of a choice but to stay on guard.

"My name is Lady Daena Targaryen." The young woman said confidently. "I am a daughter of Prince Daemon Targaryen and Lady Rhea of House Royce; the niece of King Viserys. I came here to talk to your Lord, Cregan Stark. I mean no harm to anyone in Winterfell or The North, and nor does my dragon."

The commander of the guard, a big tall man, stepped forward, gazing at Daena.

"And what is the purpose of your sudden visit... Lady Daena?" He asked her, his voice sounding suspicious.

"That is, I am afraid, a private matter, which I only intend to discuss with Lord Cregan himself. If you would be so kind as to escort me to him." Daena gave the man a tense smile.

With a little reluctance, the guards did escort Daena to the main hall of Winterfell, where, in a stone-cold room, Lord Cregan was seated on his little throne of wood. As she came in, her gaze instantly fell on the man before her. Cregan was quite young, around her age, and, as she couldn't help noticing, an attractive man. He wasn't that tall, but he indeed was well-built, his dark hair was long enough to be tied in the back of his head. His eyes were a light shade of blue, his facial features quite proportional, and his lips curved in a small smile. His shoulders were covered in rich fur, which looked very dense compared to a western fur cloak Daena was wearing.