Winter In My Heart | ROBB STARK.

LXVIII. It's Only Beginning

"What happened to Drogon?" Jon inquired suddenly, directing his question towards his wheelchair-bound brother.

"The dragon flew East after the battle ended, carrying Daenerys in his claw before laying her to rest at the place she was born," Bran replied ever so solemnly, leaving the others to digest his revelation.

"Dragonstone?" Fianna voiced with a quizzical tone.

"No, a desert in Vaes Dothrak," he answered, surprisingly continuing on with an explanation before anyone had to question further. "Daenerys may have been born at Dragonstone, but she was reborn alongside her dragons at the funeral pyre of her late husband. Nothing remains there now but charred dirt, but I suppose the creature found it a suitable place to lay her to rest."

Fianna supposed there was no where else she could have personally chosen to bury the fallen Queen. Dragonstone may have been her birthright, but it had never been a home to Daenerys. Meereen was simply too far to ponder about, and had only been a stepping stone in her journey towards the Iron Throne. Perhaps if Drogon had not taken her, Fianna would have buried the Dragon Queen alongside the burial grounds of her own family. For that is exactly what the Targaryen was to her, despite everything - family.

"I am sorry for keeping you all waiting, many Lords wanted to meet with me personally," Sansa's voice interrupted the strange atmosphere, appearing alongside her own personal guards before gliding towards them as if she were walking on water. Robb marvelled at the sight - she had never been so truly comfortable with herself, nor had she ever looked as happy and content. Sansa was the Queen she had always wanted to be, and he couldn't have been prouder.

"Looking for your hand in marriage, I'd guess," Arya snorted as the taller sister joined her side.

"If only I had an assassin sister who would stay by my side and tell them off," Sansa's lips quirked as she tentatively fiddled with the position of her direwolf crown, her perfect image falling as she found she was able to relax in front of her family.

"I'll find you someone out West who won't mind that you get gaseous after too many sips of milk."

As if Fianna's mere presence was enough of a reminder of the man she had found who was already perfect enough for her, Sansa glanced towards the Northern Queen before looking down and swallowing harshly. The memory of Tiernan Bua wouldn't dull any time in the near future, that was for certain.

"That reminds me," she suddenly lifted the intricate scroll tucked into her hand, offering it toward Fianna, "I thought you would like to have this."

Fianna quirked a brow as she took the letter, her heart falling slightly in her chest as she noticed the sigil that kept it sealed. The wolfhound's paw print that she had grown up drawing and sewing.

"It's the original document of your betrothal," Sansa explained as all eyes were suddenly transfixed on the newly emotional brunette. "I found out while you both travelled South, I think it may be of some interest to you.

"It states that in the event of your marriage, the ownership of Baelfort will fall to your second born child - who will bear the Bua name instead of Stark to protect your lineage."

"T-... thank you," Fianna managed after clearing her throat, meeting Robb's knowingly concerned eye before dropping her arms by her sides. "I always wondered if father had intended for Baelfort to fall under Stark rule, we would never have known otherwise."