~~~
THE KINGS ROAD
~~~
VALENCIA WAS NEVER ONE FOR LONG TRIPS. And the road to Winterfell was the longest trip she had ever been on. She had expected them to sail to White Harbour and ride the rest of the way, but her father insisted that they travel the entire Kingsroad on horse. Or in Valencia's case, a horse and wheelhouse.
For hours on end she was crammed between the Queens handmaidens, as well as her Lady's-in-waiting. Not to mention that Prince Tommen and Princess Myrcella decided that rather lounging on cushions that Valencia was far more comfortable.
Valencia had begged her father to let her ride horseback, he had permitted it until the reached the Trident in which he boasted over his famous victory over the Last Dragon, Rhaegar Targaryen. Valencia subtly leaned over her horse into the river, her deep eyes searching for the lost rubies of Rhaegar. However, the moment they passed the glorified battle ground, she was swept into the wheelhouse that smelt of fresh lavender and silk.
Valencia wanted to barf.
After days of journey, Valencia resumed her usual position of being half-sprawled over cushions, Myrcella and Tommen sitting next to her as she read them, A Dance of Dragons. Both Lannister children squirming with fear when Valencia would speak of the dragon, her voice dropping into a menacing growl when the dragons were mentioned. Young Tommen sat beside her while Myrcella sat in her lap, something neither were allowed to do, but Valencia encouraged it anyway. Their mother often tried to seperate the two groups of children, her opinions on bastards - even when legitimated - was rather crude.
"Ser Alfred Broomem, and his men killed Rhaenyra's soldiers and captured her along and her son Aegon the Younger. She faced her half-brother Aegon II and his dragon, Sunfyre the Golden, who had been injured from the battle between, Vhagar, and Meley. Aegon fed Rhaenyra to Sunfyre in front of her son, Aegon."
"Stop, it's too scary," Tommen whined, burying his chubby face into Valenica's arm.
Valencia couldn't help but chuckle lightly as she reaches over and patted his thick blonde hair.
"Don't be frightened, Tommen. The dragons are long gone, and the Dance of Dragon's ended long before that." She soothed, stroking his hair gently. Tommen moved back and looked up to Valencia with big green eyes as he shook his head.
"Not all the dragons are gone, I've seen the ones in the cellars. They're scary," he whispered as Myrcella stirred in Valencia's lap, she had fallen asleep while Valencia read the Fall of Dragonstone. Her blonde head was leant against Valencia's chest, her angelic-like snores mere whispers.
Valencia chuckled and spoke, "those are just skulls, Tommen. And what were you doing in the cellars?"
Tommen's cheeks grew into a queer pink. "Joffrey said that I was a coward if I didn't go down there, he said he would skin Ser Pounce if I didn't do it," he whimpered, Valencia felt pity for the boy, he was always much more sensitive than that of his brother and sister, especially his older brother who was as cruel as the Mountain.
"Don't worry, little brother. Joffrey won't harm Ser Pounce," she reassured with a smile that brightened Tommen's eyes. She patted his head once more before bringing him into her side. "Sleep now, and when you wake, we will be at Winterfell." Tommen curled into her side, lying his head on her thigh. And within moments, the little Prince had fallen asleep. Valencia sighed and leaned back against the wheelhouse wall, resting her head against the wall and allowing her hands to rest against Tommen's back.
"You're more of a mother to them, than Cersei is." Lilith's soft voice announced. She was seated across from Valencia, a old, moth eaten book in her fingers.
Valencia laughed under her breath as she looked over at Lilith. "Don't let her hear that." Narrowing her eyes on the ratty book, she read over the silver engravings on the leather. "The Long Night, rather grim isn't it?" Valencia questioned, Lilith didn't look up from the book.
"Very. Though I do suppose the Northmen are rather grim." She replied turning the page.
Valencia chuckled. "What did you think you'd gain from reading this dramatic tale of frozen men and large spiders?"
Lilith screwed up her lip, tossing the crumbling book to the side. "I thought that if I read this, that I would believe in White Walker's and armies of dead. But it makes me think it's even more ludicrous." Lilith's dark eyes flickered to Valencia's brown, "do you believe in these, White Walkers?"
A scoff rung through the wheelhouse. "Of course not," she chuckled. "But, I believe that there was something that the First Men feared, and they feared it enough to build a wall to stop it."
~~~
THE STARK'S STOOD IN ORDER. Lord and Lady Stark side-by-side, their youngest son, Rickon clinging to his mothers skirts while the other children, from oldest to young stood by their father, Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell.
Robb, Sansa, Arya and Bran, all children of the North. A beautiful blend of cold Northern features and cool hallmarks of the Riverlands. All of them dressed in their best, the boys freshly shaven and the girls with hair recently washed.
They didn't need to be standing in Winterfell for others to know that they indeed were Stark's, even if they acquired different clothing. No one could master the grim of the cold Northern sky and unearthly climate as well as they did. Pale skin, deep features, and pounds of fur wrapped around them, it was a sight to behold.
The loud horns of King Robert's host rung from Winterfell to Moat Cailin, the snorts of horses, the clank of armour and the heavy pounds of foot soldiers were all could hear for miles.
Carriages, soldiers, and banner men flooded the gates of Winterfell, the residents astonished by the large company of the King, but expected no less. Colours of Baratheon green, silver and gold as well as Lannister crimson and gold moved at an incredible pace, over two-hundred residents had come to accompany the King.
From the Stark's perspective, they were in awe, but mostly worry as to how they would tend to each person, for winter was coming and they could not hold them for long. Many faces appeared dressed in armour, no woman in sight until the wheelhouse came around and a curious brown-haired girl poked her head out of the window to gawk at Winterfell's grim grounds.
There came Jaime Lannister, then the Hound both guarding the wheelhouse as well as the pip-squeak Prince Joffrey Baratheon.
Bounding around the corner with a black destrier, no near as handsome as some of the fellow horses came the great big King of the Seven Kingdoms, Robert Baratheon. His stomach spooled at the sides, his black beard covering his many chins and his chubby fingers clinging to the reigns of his horse.
The company halted as Robert vaulted from his horse, needing a step to properly get down. The Stark's and those behind them kneeled down before Robert, his hefty build storming over to them, his cheeks rosy from the chill of the air and quick athletic activity.
Meanwhile, inside the wheelhouse Valencia Baratheon nervously tugged at her plum-coloured gown, decorated with silver jewels and black embroidery. "Leave it alone," Lilith seethed slapping Valencia's fingers away from the itching collar.
Valencia whined, "but it itches."
Rolling her eyes Lilith yanked Valencia's hands away from the expensive fabric, fixing the small collar that had become crumbled. "And my corset is strangling me, you don't hear me complaining," the handmaiden whisper-scolded gesturing to her enforced tiny waist from the corset she wore. Still whining Valencia grinned in relief seeing the door open and the handmaidens slip out just as Lilith slid a thick cloak over her shoulders, fastening it at the base of her throat.
Outside said wheelhouse was a boy, a little older than seventeen with ebony hair and grey eyes that watched the wealthy royal house move into the courtyard, the wheelhouse bearing flags of Baratheon and Lannister sigils, he noted how strange the bright colours shimmered in the dim Northern light, it was almost as if the light of his home was trying to push the bright colours away, not wanting them there.
The boy's face tingled from the shave he received that morning, the cold licking at his soft skin, his head felt lighter from the cut he had been given, discarding of the thick, jet-black curls he had been blessed with. Silently, he glared at Lady Catelyn Stark for enforcing he have it cut alongside his half-brother Robb and their fathers ward Theon Greyjoy.
His eyes shone with disappointment seeing the fat King Robert waddle up to his father who was still lean compared to Robert. His saw the screwed up expression of the Queen as if she had stepped in something foul. Jon Snow soon began to dread the royal family's presence...
He watched with little enthusiasm as the Queen's handmaidens, and children left the wheelhouse, all of them dressed in Lannister colours, already shaking from the cold weather. Jon found it amusing seeing them huddle subtly from the cold breeze that swept into the courtyard. His small smirk however, was slapped away when another figure appeared...
His heart pumped hard inside his chest, subconsciously he touched his chest to see if his heart truly was still underneath his ribs...She was beautiful, more than beautiful, but an indescribable kind of beauty. She was alluring, with eyes of coal and skin of winter snow, Jon had always been fond of women with winter snow skin, the fairness and clearness drove him mad and though she was no Northerner, she certainly looked it in a sense. Her face was as if it was sculpted by the Gods, built by marble and formed by hard clay, the fullness of her lips made his imagination run wild, and the mysteriousness that shimmered from her left him a mess in his family's line. A vision glistened off her, glimmers of purple glistened, a sense of warmth spreading out of her skin sending sparks of heat into the cold of Winterfell.
His jaw hit the floor, his eyes rounded for he could hardly believe someone such as herself could exist, someone so beautiful she could have stunned all of Winterfell. Theon Greyjoy noticed Jon Snow's expression, smirking and nudged him hard in the ribs. Jon's attention snapped from the beautiful girl and to Theon, his face contorting into a handsome scowl. Theon chuckled lowly, turning his attention to Valencia, he seemed to find her intriguingly beautiful also but his appeal was nothing compared to Jon's.
His grey eyes rested on her once more...
Valencia, who had just exited the carriage via the small step and holding Lilith's hand breathed in the cold air of the North. Her lungs yelped by the startling cold but soon eased into the extremely different climate compared to the scolding South. Her eyes drifted over to the Stark family, all standing before her father.
Eddard or just Ned greeted warmly with a bow. "Your Grace."
Robert did not smile and stated curtly., "you've got fat." A moment of tension passed through the quiet courtyard of Winterfell, the two old friends looking at one another before Ned made a nodding gesture to Robert's stomach, and within moment Robert burst into laughter along with Ned as they embraced brotherly. Robert pulled back looking to Catelyn, "Cat!" He cheered enthusiastically as he embraced her as well, he looked down a little Rickon and ruffled the little boys hair before stepping back in front of Ned. "Nine years, why haven't I seen you? Where the hell have you been?" He asked gleefully.
Ned who also looked genuinely happy grinned. "Guarding the North for you, your Grace. Winterfell is yours."
Robert nodded before moving down the line, "who do we have here? You must be Robb." The King grasped the eldest Stark child's hand, shaking it firmly.
Valencia took a long look at Robb and she easily recognised the looks of House Tully. His hair a deep red-brown, his eyes a piercing blue and his skin pale, he however inherited the curly hair from the North, a trait most Northerner's seemed to share. She could not deny the sheer handsomeness that he had, how he stood so proudly, his face stern as the king turned to him. Though she didn't dwell to long on the eldest son of Ned Stark.
"My, you're a pretty one." Spoke Robert to Sansa, her cheeks grew a pale pink. Valencia looked over the young girl, she was a traditional beauty, obviously taking after the Tully side of the family. Her skin was pale, her cheekbones high, and stunning blue eyes, what stood out the most was her thick auburn hair, braided at the top and the rest was flowing passed her shoulders. She dressed in bright colours that brought out the rose in her cheeks.
Robert moved to the small Arya Stark, he leant down slightly, "and your name is?" She straightened herself out and answered firmly.
"Arya."
Arya truly resembled a Northerner, taking in the long face, grey eyes, pale skin and obsidian waves. She wasn't the prettiest out of her siblings, but she held her own beauty.
Brandon was the last child Robert spoke to, he smirked at the little boy, "show us your muscles." Bran grinned lifting his arm and tensing his arm, Robert grinned reaching forward and ruffling Bran's hair, "you'll be a soldier." Bran favoured both his mother and father's side, his eyes blue and his hair a dark brown, straight as a blade.
A strange sense of being watched alluded Valencia to cast her gaze sideways, her feet moving to stand beside Tommen and Myrcella. And as her eyes flickered upwards, she met the grey eyes of a mysterious stranger. She felt an unruly blush smooth out onto her cheeks, for this man...the way he looked at her made her heart flutter and her body turn to mush.
All that remained was one question.
Who was this mysterious stranger?
~~~
VALENCIA NEVER ENJOYED FEASTS. Other than the food they were her least favourite event. She always had a severe distaste for them which had grown from continuous feasts that her father threw. Although this feast was smaller than usual, she couldn't help but grimace at the sight.
It was beautiful, truly, but seemed to not resemble the North she had been so excited for in the slightest. The decorations, the food, the people, she knew no one that came to truly celebrate, they just wanted to see their King. Valencia would've preferred a quiet dinner with the Stark's, not a banquet filled with people who she didn't know.
But she did feel beautiful, Lilith made sure of that. Lilith had enforced the servants to pack her most lavish dresses, and it seems tonight Lilith had picked out a beautiful deep blue velvet gown, a gown that had not seen sunlight since she had bought it.
It was long and hugged her curves nicely and extended out at the hips, long sleeves that curved around her palms were like vines on Valencia's arms. Lilith had made sure Valencia's long locks looked beautiful, stunning braids atop and aside her head, letting the free hair cascade down her back beautifully. She had been told multiple times she was beautiful, whether it be by one of the Starks or a stranger.
"Has a glum Valencia come out to mope?" Lilith teased as she casually sipped on her wine, Valencia glanced to her and playfully stuck her tongue out.
Valencia had begged Lilith to join her at the feast, for she knew she wouldn't make it without her best friend by her side. Valencia had leant Lilith one of her deep red gowns that suited her perfectly. The gown reached the ground and sprawled around her feet, a silver belt was secured around her waist with black jewels. Lilith had braided her hair up, pinning it up while gentle curls brushed her shoulders and neck.
"I'm surprised you aren't acting glum," Valencia replied with a lopsided grin.
Lilith scoffed and down the rest of her wine. "This is my fifth cup of wine, soon enough I will be face down in my food," she snorted, Valencia laughed leaning back in her seat.
The hall smelt of roast pork, chicken, beef and lamb. Buttery potatoes, freshly baked bread, vegetables and wine. The chandeliers high above lit up with their candles, the roar of laughter bouncing off the walls, the loud play of music almost overpowering the laughter.
"I'm surprised, however." Lilith announced as she poured herself another cup of wine, Valencia held her cup out, letting Lilith pour her another.
"About what?" She questioned pulling her cup away.
"That Northern wine doesn't taste like piss." Valencia burst into laughter, her cheeks flushed from the wine. Lilith laughed just as loud, both girls not caring how obnoxious their laughter made them.
A few minutes passed before a hand outstretched and tapped Valencia on the shoulder. Her smile small as she turned and met the charming blue eyes of Robb Stark. She felt her cheeks redden at his handsome features, from his red curly hair, fair skin, full lips, and bright blue eyes. He gave her a knee weakening smile that she thought no other women could withstand, but Valencia was no other woman. Although she did enjoy the smile he offered her.
"May I sit?" He asked kindly.
Valencia held her hand out allowing him, "please, make yourself comfortable." Her words were warm, Lilith overheard the kindness and rolled her eyes, snatching the jug of wine to herself. Another warm body slipped onto their table, Theon Greyjoy. He smirked smugly at Lilith, Valencia couldn't help but giggle at the look of disgust on Lilith's flushed features.
"So you're the Southern handmaiden I've heard so much about," he smirked leaning forward already advancing on the woman who seemed less than interested.
Lilith recoiled and leant away. "Go away squid," she snapped placing her wine down.
Theon frowned with confusion. "Squid?"
"Oh, that's right. Your families sigil is a Kraken, my mistake." She retorted, sarcasm dripping from her tongue. Valencia snorted, hiding her laughter behind her cup of wine.
Theon's cheeks pink but he continued, "I like you."
Lilith rolled her eyes. "Well, at least that's one of us," she stated, her finger tracing the rim of her cup.
"What if you and I went outside for a bit?" He questioned moving closer to her.
Valencia, alongside Robb watched the situation build, for Lilith's face went a deep red and her fingers tightened around her goblet. "Should he be fearful?" Robb whispered to Valencia, she nodded.
"He should be running."
"How about this. You, the foul-looking bastard run off, retrieve me more wine then leave me to my peace before I rip your cock off."
Stifling a roar of laughter, Valencia covered her mouth seeing Theon's shock expression. His cheeks flushed red but what truly shocked Valencia along with Robb and Lilith was Theon, standing taking the empty jug and moving to the wine barrels on the other side of the room.
"How in Seven Hells did you do that!" Exclaimed Valencia to Lilith who was equally shocked.
She shrugged, "I have no idea. But I'm leaving before he returns," she abruptly stood and left the hall with a final goodbye to Valencia and Robb.
A silence brewed between them, Valencia casually sipping on her wine while Robb awkwardly tapped the table. Watching him, the princess noticed the nervous tick in his legs, watching his knee bounce uncontrollably, she assumed he was trying to think of something to say.
Smiling shyly, she sat her wine down and leaned into him. "So, tell me," his gaze found hers. "What's the North like?"
And so he told her, he told her of the Godswood, the Wall, Winterfell and how it was built under hot springs. He told her of those before them, like Bran the Builder, Torrhen Stark who was the last King in the North. He told her of the crypts under Winterfell, and the houses legendary blade 'Ice'.
Within the hour, Robb and Valencia had consumed almost half a barrel of wine and enough Northern history for Valencia to recite three times over. Although they weren't drunk, both remained slightly tipsy, Robb more than Valencia.
Stomachs bubbled with spirits, and a joke that wouldn't be funny to someone sober amused both of the heirs.
Valencia leaned on Robb, her laughter loud and genuine while Robb held her shoulder, he too laughed uncontrollably.
Unbeknownst, a few tables ahead sat Queen Cersei who had been scowling at her husbands scandalous behaviour, turned her attention turned to the flirting Valencia who she had caught leaning into Robb Stark, her lips pressing a small kiss to his cheek which sent the boy red. This also went noticed by Catelyn Stark, who unlike Cersei smiled at the young couple fondly.
"They make a lovely couple, don't they?" Catelyn announced, tilting her head at the two who were getting on better than Robb had hoped that previous morning. Remember his curious questions about the beautiful Princess of the South, and Catelyn more than happy to answer them though she had only seen the child once when she was a babe when the war was over.
It was a day she'd always remember. For that day she saw Jon Snow for the first time. Both Robert Baratheon and Ned Stark returned from Dorne, Ned searching for his sister and Robert retrieving his newly-born daughter from her dead mother. From the high gates of Riverrun she saw two bundles, one secured in her husbands and the other in Robert's arms. She assumed they both belonged to Robert, either believing there were two mothers or twins, she couldn't believe that one child belonged to her Ned who himself already had a son. Before discovering Ned's secret, she had held Robert's daughter fondly and kissed her head which smelt of lavender, a scent long forgotten but forever reminding. Robert had pleaded for her to breast feed the young child, in which she did gladly when seeing the child's soft features and toothless smile. But she had grown into a fine women since then, tall, striking and very much beautiful. She had true Baratheon features, but held the attributes of someone familiar yet so foreign.
"Robb wouldn't stop talking about her when you all arrived. I believe he is rather taken with her," Catelyn told dotingly. "Even if all he had was the stories I had of her, though my stories do not give her justice. She has become a beauty."
Cersei merely looked at the two with distaste. "It certainly seems that way," she responded with a fake tone of lightness watching as Valencia stood, stumbling slightly only for Robb to steady her. Her flushed face pulled into a grin before she tumbled out of the hall.
The feeling of cold air slapped Valencia across the cheek, the squish of mud beneath her feet going unnoticed. Her stepping felt light, her chest clear yet foggy and her eyelids heavy from the heavy consumption of wine. Loud thuds rung through the courtyard, frowning sightly she followed the heavy thuds, her eyes rounded and her lips red and plump.
She approached a small section of grounds, a fence circling a ground of straw targets. A single boy stood alone, swinging an old sword at the straw target violently. Not recognising him she called out, "what did he ever do to you?"
The boy jumped and spun around, his sword outstretched to Valencia who stood behind the fence. The princess' lips parted in surprise, for it was him; the mysterious stranger. A handsome stranger at that. There was no denying that he held some Northmen in him, if not every characteristic a male of the North inherited. A long face, grey eyes and heavy obsidian curls in thick waves. Before, she had only seen his face but now she saw how handsome he was. His lips as full as hers, eyes that were flooded with an innocence and a slight curious look that made him look young, he was tall and still growing with a masculine body; but despite that, he was perhaps the most handsome man she had ever encountered.
He lowered his sword instantly. "My Lady, I did not see you, I apologise." He bowed his head.
Valencia chuckled and leant on the fence, snaking her arms around the wood. "Don't apologise," she replied resting her chin on her fist, gazing at him through hooded eyes.
Jon nodded, pursing his lips before approaching noticing her semi-bare arms. "You should head back inside, my Lady, it is a cold night," he tried to sound as proper as he could in the presence of the princess - a princess his brother would not stop talking about in the days before her arrival.
She giggled once more. "I'm warm on the effects of wine. Why aren't you inside?"
Jon's cheeks flushed, he was used to the cold and also Catelyn's cruelty. "Lady Stark thought my presence would be an insult to the Royal Family," he admitted.
Valencia burst into laughter, throwing her head back. "Why in Seven Hells would she think that? Did you get a little too haughty at the last feast?" She teased, Jon shook his head. "Then what did you do? Try and go after one of her daughters?" Jon recoiled at her questions, snapping a 'no'. Valencia shrugged, "I'm just asking. But what did you do?"
"Nothing," he remarked frowning deeply. "Except being born."
Valencia blinked and raised a brow, sighing. "That isn't exactly a clear picture."
"I'm a bastard."
Oh.
"So, you're the Bastard of Winterfell."
"Yes." He responded, his voice becoming slightly deeper, deep with a shame Valencia knew all to well. His words brought a soberness to her.
Nodding awkwardly, Valencia played with the hem of her sleeves, rocking on the balls of her feet. "You know, I'm a bastard myself," she responded straightening herself out.
Jon nodded, his sword tapping his leg. "I know."
A few seconds of silence passed before Valencia spoke up once more, this time with a scowl on her face. "I find that rather insulting, you know?" She stated.
Jon frowned, "what do you find insulting?"
Valencia crossed her arms over her chest, her brows snapping together. "That you weren't allowed inside when I, a very open bastard are allowed in," she announced angrily. "I find that insulting to myself, my father, and his choice to associate with me." Jon raised a brow at her. "Therefore, I will not return. I think I'd rather stay out here, you're much better company and your straw friend seems absolutely humorous."
Jon's mouth curved into a smile, as did Valencia's. Deciding to move closer, she began climbing the fence while speaking. "Tell me your n-ah!" Her skirt got caught on a loose nail ands went vaulting to the ground, only for Jon to rush over and grabbed her roughly in order to stop her from face planting into the mud. Clinging to him with a intoxicated mind, she pressed her warm cheek to his chest, laughing uncontrollably.
"That was embarrassing," she remarked her cheeks aflame. Jon chuckled also, his hand looped around her waist holding her upright. "My skirts stuck," she admitted tugging on the fabric. Jon grinned pulling her tighter against him, his arm outstretching to her skirt and pulling the fabric off the nail. Turning back to Valencia, he saw her brightly lit eyes looking directly at his lips. He flushed -he seemed to be doing that a lot today, especially around her.
"I - um, thank you, for not letting me face plant." Jon gave her an awkward smile and nodded, his hands holding her warm waist before setting her down. Though odd feelings followed as he let her go, as if his hands belonged in the places he held; and Valencia felt just the same.
"It's alright," he spoke.
Valencia looked up at him, her stomach churning with intense emotion, she had never been so close to a man that was she was genuinely and lustfully attracted to, especially if these feelings arose so quickly. But in a way, she felt as if she had met him before, that their encounter had already happened. She hadn't felt that way with Robb but this man was something else.
"Let me rephrase what I was going to say before I almost face-planted in mud," she chuckled brushing her sweaty palms on her gown. "What is your name, stranger?"
"Jon Snow."
Valencia nodded. "I like it, it has a certain ring to it."
"So does Valencia Baratheon," Jon smirked.
The princess chuckled and nodded, "I guess it does."
Jon felt his body become light, that genuine smile that she gave to him made his heart pound. He moved closer to her and leaned against the fence she had hung from before. "What is Kings Landing like?" He asked.
Valencia closed her eyes and breathed in the air, "loud, very loud." Her gaze lifted to the stars, she inhaled deeply and closed her eyes. "Not like here. Nothing like here. It's quiet and you can hear yourself think. That and it doesn't smell like shit and piss." Herself and Jon burst into laughter, her eyes opening and meeting his in a kind moment. "I suppose that's why Northern men are so wise, they can stop and think."
In that moment, Jon wanted nothing more than to grabbed her cheeks and press his lips to her beautiful ones. Everything about her entranced him, how she moved, how she spoke, even her blinking that he knew were teasingly slow attracted him. She was his greatest task in the form of his every desire. Every lustful though he had banished from his mind on a fateful night with Ros was electrified the moment Valencia stepped out of her carriage.
"I suppose they do." Jon replied as he watched her beautiful pink lips stretch into a smile.
Valencia looked upwards, all the bright stars shining brilliantly. "You can't see this many stars in the capital, all the lights down below outshine them," she spoke a tone of wonder in her voice, she had never seen so many star's. "But not here, nothing outshines their natural beauty," she continued slowly, she glanced to Jon. "Everything's beautiful here."
Jon nodded. "I'm sure the capital is beautiful."
Valencia chuckled lightly, she looked to the ground and shook her head. "You are victim to the lies of Kings Landing. Yes, some parts of it are lovely. But the rest, is ugly. Poverty, sickness, liars, and thieves litter Kings Landing. Rendering it not beautiful and very unpleasant." Her nose scrunched in disgust.
"I'm sure it can't be all bad," Jon replied with a gentle voice.
Valencia's face softened. "That's very optimistic and innocent of you to say. I like that."
Just as Jon went to say something a low voice yelled, "Valencia!"
The said girl cursed under her breath. "That's my guard, I must depart, Jon Snow. It was fantastic to meet another bastard," she smiled manoeuvring passed him.
"It was nice to meet you to," Jon called out, Valencia glanced to him and grinned.
"Goodnight, Valencia." He whispered to himself as she disappeared.
The lingering smell of lavender being the only remnant of her presence.