ROSE THORN
ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏꜱᴛ ʙᴇᴀᴜᴛɪꜰᴜʟ ʀᴏꜱᴇꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴏʀɴꜱ
ꕥ
✦ ╮ everyone underestimated her, thought her just a pretty face, a silly princess. they never realised she was a dragon, a rose full of thorns.
but when the dragons dance and the fire ta...
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☁️ ·̩͙✧ C H A P T E R N I N E T E E N
WARNING: for those who have only seen the series and don't know nothing of what will happen next; there will be spoilers from asoiaf, and i'll be changing a lot of things for the plot of my story.
MEVANYA WAS trapped in the depths of her nightmares. Again. This time, she was alone in the Throne Room, in her wedding dress, covered in blood from head to toe. Try as she might to find a way out, she could find none. The door would not yield to her desperate attempts.
She tried to catch her breath so she could think with a cool head, but her heart was pounding so loudly in her ears that she was unable to concentrate. The smell of blood was unbearable, and the desperation even more so.
Suddenly she felt something slimy soaking her bare feet, and when she looked towards the floor, she saw with horror thick blood running under the closed door in alarming quantities. A desperate cry came from her throat, and with even more desperation, she banged and yanked at the door that would not budge open.
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When Victoria arrived in her room to give her morning tea and help her change, Mevanya was already awake, trying to wipe the sweat from her face and remove the traces that the nightmare had left on her.
"Lord Cregan and the Prince are waiting for you, Your Highness," once the damsel had finished braiding and combing her hair, she informed her, looking at her through the mirror.
With lost and empty eyes, Mevanya looked back at the woman and nodded, trying to smile as best she could.
Victoria, though an amazing and gentle woman, was a constant reminder of all that she had left behind. Day and night, every time Mevanya saw the damsel's face, she was reminded only of Deliah, the one who had been her companion for as long as she could remember, and the one she had let die without looking back.
"I'll go by myself, if you don't mind," the woman nodded with a smile and gave a small bow before leaving the room, leaving Mevanya alone with her thoughts once more.
Every time she looked at her reflection in the mirror as she did now, she didn't recognise the person looking back at her. Certainly it was not the princess who used to love the colour purple and braid her hair, this unknown person in the mirror looked devoid of life, of emotion, of love. It was a person Mevanya could not stand to look at.
She rose from her vanity without a last glance at her appearance, and left her room to walk down the corridors to the Lord of Winterfell's office.
Knocking on the door and receiving a "come in" from the other side, Mevanya took a deep breath before entering the room, instantly connecting gazes with Jacaerys. Memories of the night before came back to her in a rush as she laid her gaze on the chestnut's lips, and a tiny part of her that she didn't know was still alive flared with the warmth of the memories.
