"You might not be interested in war but war is interested in you." -Odin
The First Targaryen Female who survived the War of the Usurper.
The untold story of how she came to survive her cruel brother, mischievous thieves, murders psychopaths, kings...
Uneasily lifting the ends of the black dress Rhaenella scurried off to stand and excuse herself from the feast.
Until the blonde of the brothers moved from his position to her side, Sigurd quickly whispered something into Helgas ear as he took hold of the younger females arm to lead her to sit next to Margrethe once again.
"You mustn't leave just yet. The people will notice."
"Please Sigurd I cant do this, it's too much too soon." Rhaenella urges back only to receive a chuckle from the man, he'd went to squeeze her hand softly as he helped her stand.
"You will do just fine. First you must eat, afterwards we can walk and meet the others."
As Sigurd left at the call of his name from the crowd, Rhaenella tried to hold onto his hand to keep him at her side but he'd moved too swiftly.
Servants had began to place food infront of her form, eagerly the dragon that hide beneath her locks had crawled its way down onto her food.
Just as it began to take small bites of the boar leg, Rhaenella felt the burning stare of Ivar.
Even from the end of the table she could feel his glare. He'd change attire from the last time they spoke, his braids had been tightened and his brothers were just as handsome as he was.
But he stood out the most.
Maybe it was his demeanor, his personality, his disability.
Maybe it was just because of his strength.
An intrusive thought must've been running through his mind as he'd not notice her watching him, as his senses perked he'd shake his shoulders and avoid eye contact with her.
Awkwardly hiding a smirk as he raised his cup to drink more ale.
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Although Rhaenella continued to fight the urge of grabbing a sharp knife to end the inner turmoil and unhappiness of her bitter life, her body yearned to the pull of Ivar.
It had been only a span of a full moon at most since she has last met these men, the solitude and alienation of no relatives or familiar surroundings had caused her to crave the attention and affection of the first person who came to mind.
The feast continued onto the late hours of the night. Perhaps and hour could have passed and Rhaenella had not eaten her fill due to her continuously thinking.
Grabbing the cup of ale on the table she looked down into the object to stare at the dark liquid.
"How could I possibly even think that?! I just met these heathens. There's no way they could ever possibly be interested in me or my well being. I am just a pawn to their game, they want my immunity and my dragon. Nothing more. I can't let myself fall for them."
