"And so came the time for a dragon to be offered to a wolf."
A tale in which Robb Stark lives, Daenerys Targaryen is desperate to secure allies, and Rhaegar Targaryen's only living daughter serves as the bargaining chip.
(of a title, office, or right) conferred by or based on inheritance.
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BEFORE
LOCATION: MEEREN
ONE thing that keenly stuck out to Daenerys about her lovely niece was that while she was beautiful, and suitors clearly lingered their gaze on the young Princess, there was also something behind the coy smiles, the innocent eyes she would bestow upon all, the gentle graze of a finger on another's arm -- there was venom.
A byproduct of the girl's mother, no doubt, Daenerys presumed.
While the Dragon Queen demanded justice and blood at the drop of the hat, Naelyra was the opposite -- she appeared indifferent, calm, and perhaps merciful to those that deserved nothing of it. Opposed to Daenerys, she preferred a drawn out death, one where poison was slowly introduced into her subject.
Naelyra's aunt had mistaken the demure smiles and fluttered eyelashes for innocence and naivety, but it had been her weapon, Daenerys realized as time progressed. The introduction of silky dresses and coiled, silver curls only encouraged the persona Naelyra presented -- one that caused Daenerys' advisers to adore her and her people to admire her. And it was not as if Naelyra was not kind -- because she was -- there was merely defenses that she had built and ones that Daenerys wished to confront.
After the conversation with Ser Barristen Selmy regarding the girl's welfare and next move, she had called upon her for supper.
The young dragon had walked into the room with a powder blue gown and soft, satin slippers that donned her small feet, pale hair tucked behind her ears with sparkling amethyst eyes that appeared doe-like as she smiled at her aunt. Daenerys offered a half-hearted smile in return.
As Daenerys poured Lyra a glass of imported wine, she inquired, "Do you ever wonder why it was that your mother did not name you after our ancestor, Visenya?"
Lyra was well aware of her father's belief in the prophecy, which only had likely driven him to Lyanna Stark and away from her mother's arms when Elia Martell had seemingly failed to provide him with the last heir to complete the triard.
If only he had known.
"She had been betrayed by him," Naelyra supplied, "why would she name me in his favor when he knew nothing of my existence and seemingly did not care?"
Daenerys took her seat in front of her niece, humming in acknowledgment before taking a sip of her wine, "I did not know my brother. But from what Ser Barristen tells me, he loved your mother and I am sure he would have loved you just as much."
Daenerys noticed the tightening of the young dragon's jaw, her fingers curling around the base of her cup before relaxing, her expression glazing over into one of calm, "Yes, your Grace, sometimes I like to think the same as well."
