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❝ there's a difference between water and ice: the water hears and understands. The ice does not forgive. ❞
━━━━ 𝐕𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐘 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐅 𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐒𝐍𝐀𝐏, small ice shards flying in the air around her, the wind unforgivable against her uncovered skin, mountains around her. She knew she was not in the mountains, but in the valley below them instead, so she knew that it wouldn't be as cold there as it was up on the peaks, but somehow, it seemed to be even colder. A large tent was set up in front of her, the unmistakable Stark direwolf banner waving in the harsh wind, and she made her way over, her booted feet crunching the snow beneath her, her arms raising in goosebumps at the frigid air around her, and she longed for a cloak to cover herself with. She had heard about her family having dragon-like visions of the future, and she wondered if she was having one right at that moment. She raised her eyebrows at the noise coming from the inside, the noises of distinct arrows flying through the air, a woman letting out yelps of pain, and a man choking on something, but what was it?
She threw open the tent aside, ready to see people being killed, but there was nothing; it was complete peace and quiet, the Great Hall of some other fortress in front of her. She thought she was hearing things, thinking that she was going to go insane and this was just a taste of it, but she blinked, and everything in front of her changed.
Unknown men were scattered around, knife wounds to their chest or arrows pierced into their shoulders and necks, dead, their hearts still and their bodies cold. She went forth, her eyes widening as she saw something she never wanted to see: herself lying in a pool of her own blood, her pregnant belly the source of it, and it seemed like a dagger was pushed through the skin multiple times, and Robb, poor, sweet Robb was laying right next to her, arrows protruding from his body, a small wound right above his heart. Catelyn's body sprawled multiple feet away, her throat slit while her face held an expression of pure pain, one that was only caused at the loss of someone she dearly loved. She had watched her eldest son die, Vhary realized. Robb, one of the main causes of her happiness, was dead because they did something their killers did not like, and Vhary, pregnant and happy was dead as well. But what of their son?
The belly this one had was not as large as she had now, so it could have been a second child she and Robb created out of love and passion, and it was lifeless, and that tore Vhary up more than she could know: she would be able to hold that baby, talk to it, teach it all she knows, and much more.
♛ ━━ ( ♛ ) ━━ ♛
SHE WOKE UP IMMEDAITELY and saw that on her bed was a large pool of blood, a stabbing pain in her stomach, tears in her eyes, her skin sweaty and hot against the cool air of Winterfell. She yanked back the blankets, hoping that her child was alright, but deep in her heart, she knew: it would not survive. She read many books and scrolls on childbirth and pregnancy and understood that a woman bleeding during gestation was not healthy, it meant that the baby was dying or was already dead.
