Disclaimer: I do not own A Song of Ice and Fire.

Another dragon, another wolf, another stag

Chapter 1: Rhaenys

"Talking"

"Thinking"

(Location: Riverrun)

Rhaenys sat in her chair and watched as the feast went on all around her. On the other side of the table, Aegon was talking to Hoster Tully's son, Edmure. The two of them had arrived ahead of their parents so that they could enjoy some of the tournament without the king and queen of Westeros looking for a betrothal match for her. They hadn't come alone. Their grandmother, Queen Dowager Rhaella, sat at the table next to her. Beside her was her daughter and Rhaenys's aunt, Daenerys.

But in spite of the feast, the eldest child of King Rhaegar Targaryen and Queen Elia Martell was bored. She had been to many feasts like this one and after a while, they just started to meld together. It was the same for the tournament the Tullys were hosting, especially since she was only watching it.

Her eyes wandered throughout the hall, seeing all who were there. Her uncle Oberyn was talking quite happily with Willas Tyrell at one of the lower tables, something that no one would think could or would happen (not even after what happened between the two of them). Her cousins, from both of her uncles, sat near Oberyn, watching everything in sight.

Arianne had an amused little smirk on her lips, like she saw something that was amusing to her. Nym had the same smile as well. Together, they survived the men with eyes full of promised heat and desire. Tyene did the same, only with demure eyes and a chaste smile. Rhaenys knew that there would be many men lusting after them in the days to come.

Across the hall at the table opposite her cousins sat Willas's family. Lord Tyrell had stayed at Highgarden (something everyone was relieved to hear and know) but had sent his children and his mother to Riverrun in his stead. Rhaenys had met the almost legendary Queen of Thorns before and was most impressed by her. She was the only woman she could think of that was able to rein in Arianne and the Sand Snakes with just a few biting remarks.

Ser Garlan sat with his wife while his younger brother Loras and sister Margaery sat beside him. While the Knight of the Flowers was talking to his brother, their sister kept sending looks at Aegon, smiling demurely at him whenever his eyes appeared to be looking at her, turning her head away at the sight of him, playing the nervous and chaste maiden for all that it was worth.

She had heard the story many times in her life. During the War of the Usurper, Lord Tyrell marched his army to Storm's End and besieged it. While he never truly did manage to break though into the castle, he had kept the younger brothers of the Usurper trapped inside as well as their remaining strength. It was enough to send Randyll Tarly and his men to support the royal army after they heard of the victory at the Stoney Step. For their loyalty, when he ascended the throne her father gave them what they had always desired: a betrothal agreement between their two families. Once they were of age, Aegon and Margaery were to be wed.

But even as he talked to Ser Edmure, Aegon's eyes wandered the hall and they were not looking for the Rose of Highgarden. His sister knew who it was he was looking for. "She's not here, little brother," she thought to herself. "You know that she would not be allowed here tonight. Why do you search for her still?" She already knew the answer to that: he thought himself to be in love.

Lord Jon Arryn and his heir, Ser Harry, sat close to the Tyrells but kept to themselves with the lords of the Vale surrounding them like a protective shield. Ever since the war, the Vale had not been on good terms with the Iron Throne. Lord Arryn had kept himself in the Eyrie since bending the knee and had only traveled to Riverrun at the insistence of Ser Harry, or so she had heard.

The other realm that was not on good terms with her family was that of the stormlords and their liege lords, House Baratheon. Well, that wasn't entirely true. The younger generation of lords and ladies who could not remember the war loyally served the Iron Throne. She counted Renly Baratheon to be a good friend of both her and Aegon. But it was his brother, Stannis, and the lords who were forced to bend the knee after Robert Baratheon died who ruled the Stormlands and offered only cold hospitality to them. And while the younger of the two sat with the Tryells, the elder was sitting with his own lords alongside his daughter.

A flash of golden hair moving made her turn to see Tyrion Lannister make his way back to the table where he and his family were sitting. Even though he had sent his son and his daughter along with his brothers, Lord Tywin had not come himself. The head of House Lannister had not come out from the Rock ever since the Rebellion.

Rhaenys knew why. He had come late to the war, only after hearing the victory for the crown at the Trident where her father had slain Robert Baratheon in single combat. Because of this, he received no reward from her father when he became king but neither was he punished. Of course, that was the official reasoning. She had long since learned from her father and mother that they had punished him by keeping Ser Jaime, his eldest son and the heir he wanted, in the Kingsguard.

Thinking of the Kingslayer, she looked to where he was standing in silence. His blonde hair and green eyes easily showed his Lannister blood. It was a strange thing to think of him as the Kingslayer when no one had punished him for killing the Mad King. She knew him to be a good man who had a good wit about him but there were always the whispers of "Kingslayer" at his back where he went.

His gaze had met that of his sister's once during the feast, something that Rhaenys had noticed. She couldn't help but scowl at the sight of Lord Tywin's daughter. While she liked Ser Jaime, the same could not be said for Cersei Lannister. In fact, she hated the golden-haired bitch. Even though she was married and had children of her own, she would always stare at her father with lust and want in her eyes every time she had come to court. It was common knowledge in her family that Lord Tywin had still hoped for a marriage between her and Father until he was told by King Rhaegar that it was not going to happen. That didn't stop from both the Lion of the Rock and his daughter from trying to get her eldest son betrothed to her.

Tyrion, on the other hand, was a curiosity. She had met him a few rare times when his lord father had allowed him to leave the Rock and follow his sister to court. He was a dwarf and while he had the hair of a Lannister, there was also black in there too. His face wasn't comely either. It looked like it belonged to a brigand instead. And yet, despite of all the ugliness he carried along with his stunted height, he was one of the cleverest men she had known.

Only two of the Great Houses were not here at this feast and while no one really gave a care about the ironmen or House Greyjoy, it was the other House not being here that gave the air a small sense of unease, something that had been there since the end of Robert's Rebellion. Even they had raised their banners and rebelled against her grandfather, House Stark and the North had not technically joined in the Rebellion.

According to the maesters, the wildings had crowned a King-beyond-the-Wall and descended upon the Night's Watch just as the Rebellion had begun, prompting Eddard Stark to go north with his army instead of south. By the time the wildings had been dealt with and he could turn his army south, the rebels had been defeated. Lord Stark did come south to find his sister, sailing to Dorne where she was being kept. But he had arrived too late and found her dead.

From what she learned, he took her body back to the North and threatened the Iron Throne with continued rebellion (some had told her that he would've gone so far as declaring himself King in the North if he did). Most lords would've marched on the North to quash the supposed rebellion but winter was looming and even though the royal army had been victorious, it was also tired. So her father sued for peace and the rest of the Seven Kingdoms had held their breath to see his response. That breath was released when the raven came back with an agreement to the peace with only one demand, which was now just as famous as the Rains of Castamere. She had seen the message before, as the king had kept it all these years. The demand was only one sentence.

A brother for a sister.

She didn't know what was going through her parents' minds at the time. But she would have guessed they thought it was a small price to pay for peace. That was why her own uncle Viserys had been sent to be fostered at Winterfell as a hostage.

Since then, she had heard many people laugh at the northerners, calling them cravens and toothless dogs. And despite also hearing maesters and people who had fought in the war or knew war claim that if there had not been a threat beyond the Wall, there might've been a different king sitting on the Iron Throne, both Rhaenys and Aegon were more inclined to believe the naysayers, simply because they were more their age than any other and their friends as well. But while she didn't know about her brother, Rhaenys lost that opinion after the Greyjoy Rebellion.

While the rest of the Seven Kingdoms had been reeling from Balon Greyjoy's surprise attacks and regrouping to attack, the North had struck first. Ships had sailed south and attacked the Iron Islands while its fleet was out at sea. Such was the fury, strength, and speed of the northerners' invasion of the islands that by the time the royal navy had landed on Pyke, the grey direwolf flew over the castle, not the golden kraken. And when Lord Greyjoy had bent the knee, they left just as swiftly as they had come, taking with the remaining son of Balon. People still claimed that the northerners were cravens, but not as many as before.

Her thoughts were broken when the herald at the door banged his staff against the floor, rattling the stones and the rafters. All eyes turned to him the sound of revelry died down. "The Prince Viserys Targaryen and with him, the House Stark!" he cried out in a great voice.

The doors to the hall opened, letting Rhaenys's uncle come walking in and the majority of House Stark following him. She only had a few vague memories of Viserys and they were all about a boy. But who came through the doors was no boy. Her uncle was a man and it showed. He was tall, but not as tall as her father. His blonde white hair fell to the base of his neck and he was growing a beard. He wore a cloak of fur and carried a sword like he knew how to wield it.

Behind him marched the House Stark. To Rhaenys's surprise, she did not see Lord Stark leading them. Instead, it was Lady Catelyn Stark who led the family. Beside her was a youth of Rhaenys's age who had the coloring of a Tully. If she had to guess, he was Lord Stark's heir, Robb, who had been named for the Usurper. For the most part, the children that followed him could've been Tullys at the first glance by a southerner's eyes. The only exceptions were the Greyjoy walking with them with a cocky smirk on his face, the youngest girl who was obviously a Stark, and the eldest, who was neither Stark nor Tully in looks and stood at the rear of the group, a good three steps apart.

Rhaenys smiled at the eldest girl, who saw it and silently returned it. It had been well over eight years since they last saw each other. Jocelyn Sand had her mother's dark hair and purple eyes. At five-and-ten, she already had a woman's figure and men's eyes followed her. The princess knew her as a playmate when they had been children.

Just like their mothers before them, they had become fast friends when Ashara Dayne brought her daughter to King's Landing. Jocelyn had been well-loved by everyone who had met her and was soon called the Sand Rose. But when Lady Ashara had fallen sick and then recovered, she had decided to send her daughter north to the Starks. Why, she did not know and no matter how many times she asked, her mother would not tell her.

Edmure stood up from his chair. "Sister!" he said happily at the sight of Lady Catelyn. For a moment, Rhaenys thought that he would run around the table to embrace her. But instead, he seemed to have caught himself and instead turned to her uncle. "Prince Viserys please partake of my bread and salt and be welcome in my father's hall."

"I and House Stark accept it gratefully," he replied easily enough. "And it is good to see my family once more." The beard and salt were quickly given to them and they took it.

"Has anyone told you that you look like an old man with that beard hanging off your face, nuncle?" Aegon asked him, getting a laugh from the younger of men and women in the hall. Even Rhaenys cracked a smile at that jape.

But Viserys did not laugh nor did he grow angry. He just stood there as the laughter continued and eventually died away. No one in the south had seen Viserys ever since he had been sent away. They did not know how he would react (or worse, if he had inherited the madness that plagued House Targaryen). "I might look like an old man," he began. "But I am a man, whereas you, nephew, look like a babe barely out of swaddling." This time, the elder generation laughed at the jape made and her little brother spluttered. "But then, you were a babe in swaddling the last I saw you," he added as an afterthought.

Rhaella and Dany stood up from the table and walked around it, their sworn shield watching them with his eyes and keeping his hand close to his sword. They came to a stop before Viserys and Rhaella embraced him tightly. He embraced her just as tightly and Rhaenys would've sworn that there were tears of joy in her grandmother's eyes.

When they were done embracing one another, her uncle turned to his sister. She looked down at the ground, not looking him in the eyes. Dany had always been a little shy to strangers but this was her blood. "Look up, Dany," Rhaenys silently urged her. She couldn't afford to look weak here.

But then Viserys reached out to touch the bottom of her chin, lifting it up to so their eyes could meet. "The last time I saw you was when I was to leave for Winterfell," he told her. "Mother had given you to me so I could hold you one last time. I told you that no matter where I went or how long I was gone, you would always be my sister. Then you reached up with your tiny hand and pulled my nose."

Everyone who heard that either sniggered or giggled. Dany had been one of the gigglers. Then she embraced her brother just as tightly as her mother had. Rhaenys smiled at the sight. "Cat, where is Ned?" Lord Edmure asked his sister. "I thought he would've come."

"He stayed behind at Winterfell," Lady Stark answered. "There must always be a Stark in Winterfell."

When she heard those words, Rhaenys hid a small sound of disappointment. She had wanted to meet the Lord of Winterfell. Like Lord Tywin, he did not leave his home (the last time that he did was to go to war against the Greyjoys). But unlike the lion, neither she nor Aegon had ever met the wolf. They had been told of him and she had an image in her head of a cold northern lord who waited in the midst of winter with sword in hand from what she had been told. But not once had the royal family gone north or Lord Stark come south again.

She noticed that the youngest Stark boy had gone over to the eldest and tugged on his cape. He whispered his brother's ear. Robb Stark grinned at him, nodded his head once, and stood back up. "My lord uncle," he called out to Edmure. "Would you mind if my family brought in some additional guests to this feast?"

"Of course, by all means," Edmure replied. "You are my family; I see no reason to deny you this."

For some reason, that made Viserys smirk and Lady Stark turn her head to look at her son. There was a look of warning on her face but he had already placed his fingers on his lips and blew a sharp, clear note.

What came next sent the entire hall scrambling back from their seats with shouts of horror and surprise. Five giant beasts made their way into the hall, heading towards the Stark with speed. Rhaenys had thought that they were going to attack until the youngest Stark cried out, "Shaggy!" and the blackest of the beasts stopped before him to lick his face, making him giggle. The other four creatures circled around the rest of the Starks, but they were not attacking them.

It was only when they slowed down that she realized what they were and she was not the only one. "Gods be good," Aegon said from where he stood. "Are those…?"

"Aye, direwolves," Lady Stark said with a resigned voice, giving her eldest son a look of reproach. "Do not worry; they have been raised from pups by my children. And they will behave themselves." The last sentence was directed at her children and only her eldest son and daughter looked embarrassed (the daughter more than Robb), the others were more content on playing with their wolves.

Once the initial shock of the wolves had passed and the Starks had been seated, the feast continued. To Rhaenys's displeasure, Jocelyn sat at one of the lower tables, unable to come to the high table and eat with her old friend. All it had taken was one stern look from Lady Stark and Jocelyn had retreated. "Clearly the North has weakened her," she silently decided. What else could've happened to the fiery girl she knew? She had thought that not even the cold north could've tamed her but apparently, it was so.

She grew bored and stood up from the table. The Starks were down at the other end so she would have no problem getting out easily. "Is everything alright, Rhaenys?" Daenerys asked her quietly.

She smiled. "I'm fine, Dany. I'm just retiring for the evening." Even though she was her aunt, Daenerys was still younger than she was and it felt odd to call her Aunt. Thankfully, she didn't have a problem with that. Rather, she insisted on being called Dany (which everyone, except for the king and her mother, did).

She strode away from the table and the hall. As she left, a familiar clanking sound filled her ears. "Uncle," she said to her great uncle, Prince Lewyn Martell.

"Princess," he said in return. "You are returning to your quarters?"

"Yes."

"Shall I lead you?"

She frowned at him. "I do know my way to my quarters, nuncle." She wasn't a child.

He smiled faintly. "Then lead the way."

She did just that. But as they walked through the corridors, she quickly found out that she did not know her way to her quarters. This was not the Red Keep. This was a different castle and so it was built differently. As she walked through the castle, trying to find her way to her rooms and failing, she knew that there was an amused smirk on her uncle's lips and it was getting bigger as every minute passed.

Finally, she found a door that when opened, led to the outside. She took it and found herself to be in the courtyard. The moon was high in the sky, shining down light on an already fire-lit courtyard. She could hear the sounds of the feast coming from the castle. "I do not think that this is the way to your rooms," Lewyn said from behind her.

She turned and scowled at him. "I know that, nuncle. At least from here, I will be able to find my way back." They had come through the courtyard when they first arrived at Riverrun. As she started walking again, another sound emerged to her ears, the sound of a sword striking a target. "Do you hear that?"

"Aye, I do. It seems that some men are more concerned about their training then their feasting." There was the faintest hint of disapproval in his voice.

"You don't approve of someone taking their training to be a knight seriously, nuncle?"

"Training is important, aye. But so is feasting. What would be the point of doing all that laboring if one does not stop to enjoy himself?"

"In some cases, they would rather enjoy themselves then labor at all," she remarked. She had seen knights who had more fat then muscles at court. Both she and her uncle shared a laugh at the jape as they walked through the courtyard. "What do you think of the Starks, nuncle?"

"That most of them look like Tullys instead of Starks," he answered glibly.

"Well, I think the direwolves had put that suspicion to rest." Already her mind was going back to the bedside horror stories she used to love, about how the northerners were savage wolves in human form or how they were wargs who mated with animals. "Did you ever meet Lyanna Stark?" she asked suddenly.

She couldn't see his face so she did not know what expressions were crossing it at that moment. But she was curious about the woman who had started the whole rebellion to begin with. Some had called her a whore and some had called her innocent, but all agreed that she must've been beautiful to catch King Rhaegar's eye. Neither her father nor her mother ever said anything about, except to tell her and Aegon one warning.

Lewyn did not say anything for the longest time, letting only the sounds of the feast and the sword fill her ears. "Aye, I met her once at Harrenhal," he finally answered. "I didn't think anything of it. Perhaps I should've."

They walked in silence through the courtyard, letting the sounds of the feast fade into the background behind them. Yet, all the while, the sounds of training remained constant. The smoke from the torches burning in the courtyard filled the place. It was from that smoke a shape came out before her, making her jump back in fright. "By the gods!" she breathed as she stared at the creature. From behind her, she heard her uncle reach for his sword.

It was a direwolf but it was not like the direwolves she had seen in the hall. Those had furs whose colors went from grey to black and eyes which were either gold or green. The fur of this direwolf was white and its eyes were red with only black spots to show its pupils. It was just as big as the others and its eyes watched Rhaenys intently.

"Princess, get behind me," Lewyn told her. She wanted to move but she felt trapped by those eyes. If she moved, the wolf would not let her.

"Ghost, to me," a voice came from the smoky darkness. The direwolf stepped away and Rhaenys released the breath she had been holding. It was only then she realized that the sounds of the sword swinging had stopped.

Another shape came out of the smoke, rapidly becoming the shape of a man. When it became clear in the torchlight, Rhaenys felt like her heart had stopped and the world had changed. He was lean, that much she could tell, as well as that he had a long face. She was not sure whether his hair was black or brown in the dark night and she thought that his eyes were black. But when the moon came out from the clouds above and shined its light, she saw that his hair was dark brown and his eyes were as grey as the smoke. In one hand he held a sword while the other hovered over the direwolf, as if it was the only thing stopping it. From behind her, she thought she heard her uncle draw in a surprised breath. She did not know why, but she did know that the boy held a similar resemblance to the youngest Stark girl.

As he looked at her, she saw that his cheeks turned slightly pink and his eyes slid down just as slightly. It was only then she realized that he was a boy, practically the same age as Aegon. "My apologies if Ghost frightened you, my lady," he said quietly. "I had thought that we were alone."

"I-It is fine," she replied, cursing her voice for stuttering like that. She did not know this boy. She had no cause for sounding like a girl in love! "I am grateful that you were here, my lord."

"…I am not a lord."

"And she is no mere lady," Lewyn said with a harsh tone to his voice. "She is Princess Rhaenys Targaryen."

The boy winced at those words like he had been struck and bowed his head. "Forgive me, your Highness."

"There is nothing to forgive, raise your head," she told him and he did.

"Tell me, boy, when did become fashionable to train bare-chested?" her uncle asked him. For a moment, she did not understand what he meant. Then she saw that the tunic he wore was untucked and unbelted, like he had thrown it on moments before.

The pink on his cheeks became brighter at the question. "Tis warmer in the Riverlands then I am used to, ser," he answered. A gleam of sweat covered his face and plastered the tunic to his body that much was true.

"And where are you from then, if the Riverlands are warm to you?"

"The North," he answered.

"Name yourself, boy, you and your father," her uncle commanded.

He didn't look them in the eyes. "My name is Jon Snow. I am Lord Stark's bastard."

"Aye I thought so. You have the Stark look on you."

Those words made Rhaenys pause. Despite being considered a would-be traitor by many in the south, there were many more who considered of Lord Stark's unwavering sense of honor in the highest regards, except for two spots. One was her friend and was currently sitting in the hall. The other was standing before her and was doing things to her that she didn't want to happen but didn't stop them either way.

"If you are a part of the Starks, why are you not with them at the feast now?" she finally asked him.

"Lady Stark would not insult her family and the royal family by sitting a bastard among them."

To that, she laughed. "I was not aware that my father had legitimized my good friend Jocelyn to being a Stark." She knew he would've told her that and since he hadn't, that meant Jocelyn was still a Sand.

But he did not laugh with her and she found her laughter dying in the sight of his long face, guarded and solemn as it was. "With respect, your Highness," he said. "Jocelyn is a bastard daughter who could never threaten Robb's position as heir and whose mother is known to Lady Stark. I cannot claim either of those."

"Then why are you here in Riverrun?"

To that, he smiled. It was a small thing of his lips moving but when she saw it, Rhaenys found her breath taken from her. She found herself wanting to keep him smiling. "Robb and Arya had banded together and told their lady mother that they would not come unless I was brought along."

"Your Highness, you wished to retire for the evening," Lewyn reminded her from behind.

The smile vanished from Jon Snow's lips and he bowed his head. "I bid you good night, Princess." She did not say anything in return, forcing herself to give him a snort nod. He turned and walked away, the direwolf following behind him. Both she and her uncle kept on walking. The last she saw of him was him taking off the tunic, no doubt to continue training.

Her heart returned to normal and she could breathe easily again when he was no longer in sight. What had happened just then? She had meant many suitors and would-be lovers. Some she had considered, some she had rejected outright, and some were better off as friends (whether they liked it or not). But what happened to her in meeting that bastard was nothing like she had felt before. It was like she had not lived before seeing his face or hearing his voice (which sounded like a caress against her ear to her).

As she returned to her rooms and made herself ready for sleep, she remembered that warning her father and mother had told her and Aegon, something she had always thought was supposed to be a way to scare them at night into being good. How wrong she was!

"Never meet a Stark under moonlight. They will take your heart away."

End

Author's note: Thank you for all the reviews you've sent me.

Alright, this is going to be my attempt at doing a romantic story in true Asoiaf fashion, by which I mean I'm going to take an old and familiar notion, force it to its knees, and promptly screw it up the ass. I should also mention that this is also going to be a leisure project, so don't expect constant updates on this.

As you've probably already figured out, the outcome of the Rebellion has been changed. The way I've got it figured is that if the Stark forces were delayed long enough in joining the Rebellion coming down from the North, the Battle of the Bells (for that's when they actually joined the fighting) would've turned out much more differently.

If the northerners weren't coming down with their forces along with their lord coming to get married, Hoster Tully would probably be a little hesitant to commit his full forces to help Robert (needing some to protect his own lands from being attacked). So instead of dealing with Stark, Arryn, Baratheon, and Tully forces, Jon Connington now only had to deal with two. The rebel forces might've gotten out of there alive but not without a good deal of injury and that alone could've (pardon the pun) turned the tide at the Trident.

And since Ned didn't get down fast enough, there's a very good chance he might've continued the rebellion. But if you think about his one demand, it's only turnabout (and that's always fair play). Plus, it's a good thing for Viserys for I highly doubt he would go mad under Ned Stark's gaze.

I've read the story about Ashara and her supposedly still-born daughter and I've figured, "Why not? It'll be interesting to see how the dynamics change." I had considered making the six direwolves seven but discarded for being cliché. Plus, it'll add tension and everybody loves tension. If we didn't, this book series and TV show would not be famous.

I'll see you all next chapter!