Cersei's Bedroom, The Red Keep - King's Landing, CrownLands.
Inside the Queen's bedroom, the powerful Lioness was not alone during the early hours of the night. Her two younger brothers, Tyrion and Trystan were present.
The dwarf was sitting behind the desk, comfortable on the big chair of hers while he held a letter in his hands.
The youngest Lion, Trystan was in more formal clothes as well; missing his armour.
He had taken a seat on one of the chairs from the other side of the desk but he sat on it upside down, resting his hands and his chin on the back of the chair with both legs at each side of it. His green eyes were on his sister, who was busy lighting numerous candles with a long straw.
"Since when do you light your own candles?" Tyrion asked, his eyes momentarily glancing at her before focusing back on the letter.
"Since I decided that I can't stand to look at any of my handmaidens for another instant." She answered and blew out the flame on the straw's end. "How many times can you read one raven scroll?" she stopped in front of him and threw the half-burnt straw on the desk.
"Stannis Baratheon's fleet has been spotted sailing north past Tarth, two hundred ships." Tyrion read out loud.
"More than we have."
"Yes, that's more than we have. He'll be at our gates within..." he started to count.
"Five days, four if he has the wind," Trystan answered for him, looking between his two older siblings with his usual serious expression that did not fit his very odd way of sitting on the chair.
"We have strong, high walls. We'll rain fire down on them from above."
She said, making the two males exchange a look.
"Rain fire on them from above," Trystan repeated. "You're quoting Father, aren't you?"
"Why not?" she exclaimed and moved towards the jug that held wine at the other side of her room. "He has a good mind for strategy, doesn't he?"
Tyrion tossed the scroll on the desk.
"Call it tactics, not strategy. But, yes, he does have a good mind for it. The best mind, some would say, along with our good-mother" he reminded her. "Sadly, he's not here, none of them are. It's just you, Trystan, me and Joffrey, the Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm."
Cersei had her back turned as she filled her goblet and waited for Tyrion to continue.
However, the dwarf said nothing else and she tried to remain calm for now it was not the time to argue with him, no matter how much she felt like it.
"I'm sure you'll make a point eventually."
"He needs to start acting like a king. This war you started is coming to our doorstep. And if the entire city wants Joffrey dead-"
"I'm not the one giving the boy whores to abuse."
"I thought the girls might help him."
"Did you?"
"I was wrong" he admitted and glanced down. "If we can't control him..." he shook his head, not even wanting to think about it.
"Do you think I haven't tried? He doesn't listen to me." She confessed as she sat by the edge of her bed, her goblet in her hand.
Trystan had remained quiet so far, watching the two older siblings argue like they always did. He chose not to interfere yet; letting those two compare their failures in controlling the little psychopath with the golden crown upon his head.
Eventually, though, he felt the need to comment.
"It's hard to put a leash on a dog once you've put a crown on its head"
Cersei glared at him but made no move, remembering very well what happened when she tried to confront him in his chambers.
"I always hoped he'd be like Jaime. He looks like him. In a certain light."
Tyrion chose to disagree.
"The boy is more Robert than Jaime."
A scoff made them look at Trystan.
"Robert was a drunken fool, but he didn't enjoy cruelty. He is more like Aerys than anyone else" he said, ignoring the looks they sent him as he straightened his back. "Do not look at me like that, you have thought about it, the council has thought about it and I bet the Mountain's weight in gold that the people think about it daily"
None of his siblings spoke, knowing that he was saying the truth.
"The Mad King burnt people and Joffrey cuts off their heads and shoots them with a crossbow. There is not much of a difference there"
"Sometimes I wonder," Cersei said.
"What?" Tyrion questioned.
"If this is the price for what we've done, for our sins"
"The Targaryens wed brother and sister for hundreds of years, I know. That's what Jaime and I would say to each other in our moments of doubt." She explained and Tyrion glanced at Trystan, wondering if he knew as well. Based on the unsurprised look he had, the dwarf realized that the young Lion was aware and had simply remained quiet. "It's what I told Ned Stark when he was stupid enough to confront me"
She was quiet for a moment, clearly bothered by something as her voice dropped to a softer tone.
"Half the Targaryens went mad, didn't they? What's the saying?"
Trystan glanced at the floor between them.
"Every time a Targaryen is born, the Gods flip a coin."
He said, his green eyes moving once again to his sister but there was no judgement or hatred in them.
"You've beaten the odds. Tommen and Myrcella are good, decent children, both of them and Trystan is also proof" he said, sending a quick apologetic look at his younger brother for the topic of the conversation.
The young Lion dismissively waved his hand, not minding. He knew of all that already, had thought about it a hundred times and had heard it from the whispering mouths of others when his back was turned.
Cersei placed her free hand against her chest, feeling an acute pain as silent sobs gathered in her throat. Tears prickled the edge of her eyes and she started to feel weak, no longer able to keep the facade of a strong woman as the worst of thoughts entered her mind.
Tyrion saw and moved closer but was not sure how to confront her, since their relationship was not the best.
Trystan, on the other hand, took the initiative without saying anything.
He stood up and with his long strides, was quickly by Cersei's side. He sat at her side and wrapped one hand around her shoulders, bringing her closer to him.
In need of some comfort and some affection, the mighty Lioness accepted the gesture. Her hands grabbed the tunic of her younger brother in a tight grip and buried her face in his chest, trying to find some support as she lost control of her emotions.
The Half Lion said nothing and merely rubbed her shoulder and back, keeping her close as he placed his chin upon her head while she cried on his chest.
His green eyes seemed to glow with empathy and even some pity, for despite what Cersei had done; she was still their sister.
She was their sister, who was human and had made mistakes. She had many flaws and she was no saint but she was also a woman; a mother nonetheless.
She had passed through her hardships and even the toughest of people required some form of support in their rough times.
A mere glance with Tyrion and the two male Lions knew they were thinking of the same thing.
Harrenhal - Riverlands - Nightfall - 4 days before Stannis' army reaches King's Landing
It was late at night, past the hour of the wolf and the dark castle of Harrenhal was oddly quiet.
A few burning torches and lanterns illuminated certain paths and corridors but no movement was taking place.
Amongst the shadows moved a figure, a cloak draped around their shoulders and a hood covering their head.
White strands of her hair could be seen hanging forward as Visenya walked slowly across one of the tallest corridors.
Her gaze was mostly outside, watching the bright full moon through each window opening but her thoughts were elsewhere.
Eventually, she came to a halt in front of an opening that was big enough for a person to pass through.
She stepped close to the edge, feeling the cold wind that carried the scent of faint snow as if bringing it straight from the North.
She could easily drop, one single step and she would fall dozens of feet to her death.
Most people would consider her mad, themselves too wary of the dangers of such edge but not her.
Like in Casterly Rock and King's Landing, Visenya often searched for high places where she could stand close to the edge.
She was never afraid of heights, always being the one climbing trees as a child while her companions begged her to come down; afraid she would fall and die.
Yet, they never understood the need to just be alone and so close in meeting the stranger. It reminded her that she was still mortal despite the curse of dreams she was born with. For the first time in so long, she had a dream that terrified her more than anything else.
A dream she swore she had seen before as a kid but had pushed to the back of her mind with everything going on.
She was somewhere in the North, barely seeing any wildlife or plan alive. She was certain she could see the silhouette of what looked like the Wall, standing tall and strong in the distance. The cold touched her like it had never done before, making her feel its touch through her skin and all the way to her bone.
The wind blew cold and snow was tangling in her hair while the combination felt as if sharp blades were placed on top of her skin, damaging just enough to cause pain but not drawing any blood.
Something within her made her look behind her, her breath coming out in visible white puffs each time she exhaled. In the distance, through the ominous rising cloud of winter mist, she saw the silhouette of someone.
She narrowed her amber eyes, trying to see better and eventually, she started to distinguish features. Her blood ran cold as the ground beneath her feet as she saw something that made her forget to breathe.
Cold blue eyes in a shade she had never seen before were looking at her, a pale white complexion where the skin seemed to be frozen or made of some thick carved ice; she could not tell.
She saw this creation that she could not even call human marching her way, their frozen face shifting to something that could resemble a smirk upon spotting her and yet they did not slow down their pace.
Right behind him, Visenya saw the remnants of an army that was like him. The majority were destroyed and frozen bodies of men and women alike, some carrying holes and others being more skeletons than humans.
Yet, all of them had the same glowing blue eyes as their leader as if they were all connected by an invisible magical force.
However, what terrified her the most was not the army or their leader but something else.
In the background, she got a glimpse of a blur coming straight at her through the skies. In the last moments before she was awoken, she got a glimpse of a dragon with the same icy eyes heading her way.
Its jaws opened wide as it flew lower and she saw blue flames being released straight at her. Just as the flames were about to touch her skin, she woke up gasping for air.
After that dream that had woken up Tywin once again, she excused herself to go get some water; a lie. He tried to argue but he knew better than to fight her when she had such dreams. He had tried in the past and eventually came to realize that she needed some time alone to control herself. Thus, he went back to sleep but kept his senses on alert to hear her return.
And so, Visenya found the need to just take some fresh air and try to clear her mind.
She shivered involuntarily upon remembering those blue eyes and the frozen dragon that was about to burn her. Rubbing her hands faintly, she tried to focus on the facts and make sense of the dream.
She knew it was beyond the wall and she felt it was not that far away but there had been no messages or emergency ravens from them, requesting help with something. This meant that the dream had yet to happen, which she was thankful for.
What worried her the most was the dragon, though. Since the war had started, she could not keep up with her spies in the east and Varys could not send her any personal letters since she was always in the presence of Tywin.
The last thing she knew of Daenerys was the fact that Viserys had been murdered by the Dothraki husband she got married to and that she was getting an army of horse lords to eventually sail to Westeros.
She did not feel bad for Viserys after finding out about his behaviour, seeing too many signs of Aerys in him. She was glad her niece was okay but wished she could know more about her whereabouts and her condition.
Feeling that she was no longer alone, she focused on the present and slowly turned her head to the right; only to see a familiar person watching her from a few feet away.
"Are you alright, M'lady?" the girl said, remembering to use the proper way to address her after being pointed out by Tywin.
Leaving a heavy sigh, the Dragoness took a step back and turned her body to fully face the kid.
"I am. What are you doing out here at such a late hour? It is dangerous for a girl like you"
Arya opened her mouth to say something but stopped herself after she thought of it through. She then chose to change her answer.
"I couldn't sleep and a walk usually helps me" she lied.
She couldn't sleep because she kept thinking of Robb and the war, of her mother and sister and how she could find them. She kept thinking of her list, the names of people she would eventually kill and of course the 3rd person she would tell Jaqen to kill.
Visenya tilted her head slightly to the side, the black hood of her cloak made her white hair and eyes stand out more in the dim darkness and low lighting around them; giving her a more foreign and ethereal look.
"You were about to say something else. Go on, say it. I will not punish you if that's what you are worried about" she said.
"I was about to ask you the same thing, M'lady. It is dangerous for you as well to be out this late" the girl confessed.
A small smile formed on Visenya's lips.
"And it would be a fair question. Similar to you, I do need a walk for sleep to take me" she explained.
"However, I am not in any true danger, unlike you"
The Stark girl frowned her eyebrows faintly.
"Because you are Lady Lannister and you are surrounded by your own men?"
A silent chuckle was the woman's response, further confusing the girl in front of her.
"If a title could truly protect someone, there would be no need for guards and armies, my dear," she said in a soft tone. "I am in no true danger because I am not unarmed"
Before Arya could ask what she meant, Visenya moved her cloak and exposed the odd belts wrapped around its thigh and right above her pants.
Arya noticed multiple daggers of similar design and she speculated to be around 7 on each leg. They were smaller than most daggers but equally sharp; their tips were more like that of an arrow or a spear edge than a normal blade while a small leather fabric was wrapped around the thin base.
The Dire wolf stared at them in surprise and fascination, witnessing the unique blades for the first time and noticing how they seemed to reflect the faint light. Upon closer inspection, she noticed that their blades had an odd pattern on them as if the metal that crafted them was not smooth or the common one.
Visenya took one and spun it in her arm before grabbing it from the pointy end. She bent the knee to be closer to Arya's height and offered her the leather-wrapped handle.
Slowly and carefully, the kid took it.
She felt the soft black leather against her palm and then tested the weight of it, feeling it much lighter than usual daggers but it looked extra sharp. She turned her body to the side and did a fake stabbing move and then a slashing one as if attacking an imaginary opponent.
"Pretty good, isn't it?" Visenya asked after a silent minute of just watching her.
It reminded her of herself when she was younger, spending hours using a fake sword to attack her imaginary enemies while practising in secret.
Arya stopped and looked at her, a small silly childish smile forming on her face and she nodded her head a few times.
"They are very light but they look sharp"
"Valyrian steel is known to be that sharp" she commented, making the girl pale upon realizing it.
Arya quickly looked at the dagger again, studying it under the faint light and she saw the pattern better. She had heard that Valyrian Steel had a unique pattern and that was a way to recognise it.
"I have a lot of acquaintances and one of them is a very good smith. Had him make those for me a long time ago, in case I ever truly needed them" she confessed, remembering how she had let those daggers back at Casterly Rock during the last war and a part of her regretted it. If she had them on, perhaps she could have stabbed Robert with them instead of an arrow and actually ended him before he murdered Rhaegar.
Arya noticed there was an inscription on it but it was in a language that she did not know. She squinted her eyes, trying to see better in case she could make any letters or perhaps she was not seeing well but stopped upon hearing the faint chuckle coming from the Dragoness.
"It's High Valyrian, do not try to read it. It has a name, the one you hold says Vhagar" she explained, having named each one of those daggers after each Old Valyrian God that her ancestors worshipped before the faith of the Seven replaced it. "Do you know who Vhagar was?"
"The Dragon Visenya I rode when she helped her brother Aegon to conquer Westeros" Arya answered.
"And the Dragon was named after an old Valyrian God, as did most dragons that my family had" she informed the girl. "Old Valyria had 14 Gods, each one responsible for something. Vhagar was the Goddess of War"
Arya kept looking at the dagger and at the name, never knowing about it until now. Somehow, the names of Dragons sounded so much better.
"Do all of your daggers are named after those gods?" she asked, although it sounded more like a statement than a question.
Visenya nodded her head in pride.
"Indeed. You are a smart girl, a very observant one nonetheless" she pointed out, noticing how often the kid was looking at the dagger. "Keep it" she finally said.
Immediately, the young Stark froze and looked at her with wide brown eyes.
"I cannot keep it, M'lady. It is yours and if I get caught with it-"
"Then make sure you don't" she pointed out, a sly smirk on her rosy lips. "Keep it. It's light and easy to hide, perfect to defend yourself if the need ever arises" she continued and stood up. "What's your name, girl?"
The cupbearer was silent for a moment, afraid that she had been exposed or that something else was taking place. In her small panic, she thought of the first name coming into her mind.
"Jenny, Milady," she said, remembering a song she heard once about Jenny of the Oldstones.
Visenya smiled.
"A word of advice, Jenny" she started. "A woman in this world can survive with three weapons in her arsenal; words, poison and daggers"
This put 'Jenny' into deep thought for a moment as she repeated the advice in her head. She could argue with that or point out swords were good as well but then slowly realized what the Dragoness meant.
It would be tough for a woman to handle a sword or a weapon, let alone be taught how to fight. However, a dagger was easy to hide and anyone could use it if someone got close enough. Poison was subtle, easy and often quick; a perfect weapon for a woman that did not want to raise suspicions.
Words...that one was tricky in her mind but then thought of what she had seen all those days as a cupbearer. Visenya always used her words to insult or silence men and something was telling her that she could easily charm them as well without much of a try.
Getting a better understanding of it, she gave a small bow to the woman out of pure respect.
"Thank you, M'lady," she said and looked at her with her big brown eyes.
That woman had been her idol ever since she was young and passively she had been looking after her ever since choosing her as Tywin's cupbearer.
Now, she gifted her with something; a weapon. A weapon that had importance to her, that was unique and lethal. Arya could easily stab her or anyone with that dagger, she could easily go after her husband and save her brother with such a blade.
She was not sure why Visenya trusted her with some object but she was not going to question it. Perhaps if things ever turned better and the war was over, she could find her again if she survived and properly train under her; without the need for fake names and disguises.
It was a big if but Arya had come to believe in a lot of things that sounded impossible or far reached and yet could eventually be achieved and become a reality.
"Now, off you go. Get some proper rest and I do not want to see you walking around alone at night again" she said, her tone sounding far more motherly all of a sudden and that amused Arya.
She offered a smile.
"Goodnight, M'lady," she said and obeyed her straight away, walking back to where she came from while she tucked the unique blade into the sleeve of her clothing.