Can I please request a romantic drabble for Renfri with #11. I hate everyone but you #28. Kissing to blend in #29. Bodyguard dynamics.. Thank you so much, Trish!!!
Character: Renfri
Fandom: The Witcher
Prompts: I hate everyone but you, kissing to blend in, bodyguard dynamics
Relationship: Romantic
Words: 405
REQUESTS FOR DRABBLE PROMPTS ARE NOW CLOSED
“Do you really have to be so dramatic?” You tiredly said, reluctantly waiting until Renfri made sure it was safe to continue along the path. The city was in sight and you had almost reached it.
“It’s the price you have to pay if you want to be with me” Renfri mumbled, turning to you with a grin in her lips. Your attitude amused her to an extent. “They are after me, Y/N, and they’re after you too if you’re with me”
“Yeah, yeah...” You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest and feebly walking when she gave you the sign.
As you walked into the city, there was tension in the air. You walked through the doors trying to supress your frustration and resignation within you while Renfri was quiet in concentration, taking the environment in and resting a hand against the dagger in her belt.
Just when you were opening your mouth to complain about the situation, a change in her posture alarmed you. Renfri gasped, tensing up completely and turning to you.
“Guards” She only told you, looking panicked. “I think they saw me”
“What are we going to-” Your question was interrupted by her sharp movement.
Renfri wrapped her arms around you, pushing you against her and holding a strong hand against the back of your head. Before you knew it, your faces were forced together and your lips connected. Desipte being out of breath, it was the first time you relaxed ever since you learned about Renfri’s problem. Judging by the way she passionately kissed you, it felt like Renfri had calmed the nerves herself.
When you pulled away, you did so slowly. Her hand lingered on the back of your head as your eyes continued glued together. A small smile formed on her lips, slowly growing in size.
“They’re gone” Renfri said, now smirking. “You were saying, Y/N?”
I took you several more seconds to recover the ability to speak, but when you did you tried to sound fed up and sarcastic.
“Don’t look so conceited” You huffed, rolling your eyes. “You know I wouldn’t let anyone else do what you just did, Renfri”
“But?”
“But I’ll admit, this situation has its perks”
“Stay alert, dear” Renfri sarcastically said, grinning, as she took your hand. “They might return”
“Don’t hesitate me to kiss me again if they do” You muttered, making her laugh for the first time in days.
Reblogs and comments are appreciated!!
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Summary: The entire Continent sees Renfri as evil, cursed, monstrous. But you don’t. You only see the woman you love.
Word Count: 1,760
A/N: i have already mentally prepared myself for this to get 2 notes as all my one shots do but. it’s okay. i love renfri too much to care bc every hour on this blog is missing renfri hours.
please reblog/leave comments, they’re very much appreciated!
Cursed. It was all Renfri ever knew, all she was ever told. A screaming child born under a shadowy, black sun, absorbing all light and casting rays of evil darkness upon soil. The planets aligned just to curse her blood, to fill her with venom and hatred that spit over her growing bones.
Her name didn’t matter. Any identity she would try to forge would never matter. All that she was to the world was a girl born in the eclipse, a girl that would bring the world’s end, sink her teeth into it with a bloodied smile. The planets had made her cruel, twisted and broke something inside of her, or so some old mage under a dusty robe had claimed. Renfri scoffed to think about the men who had ruined her life, as all men do, robbed her freedom from her and branded her the descendent of a demon goddess, an entity of the night as dark as the Black Sun she was born under. Renfri knew her existence was a threat, her existence meant she was a gateway for Lilit to walk the Earth, to bring death at her fingertips and obliterate the entire human race.
She felt as though her boots were always stained with blood, no matter where she walked. It was prophesied for her, after all, to engulf kingdoms in blood, to watch innocent people choke and splutter before they drowned in the crimson oceans.
She heard about the other girls like her. Girls snatched under the winking stars by Stregobor, to be locked away for his experimentation. Growing up, she knew she was always under his watchful eye, him prying for any excuse to brand her a monster. Violence bubbled up inside her, boiled over, stung her skin, but it wasn’t because of the Black Sun bullshit that had been retold time and time again. No, her anger stemmed from something else, from being a child who grew up without love, who grew up finding comfort in violence when no one else would hold her. She learned to hold herself, learned to be the only person she could trust.
And her life of loneliness was sealed when Stregobor sent the man to follow her into the woods. Stripped of her princess title, stripped of any royalty or allegiance that never belonged to her, Renfri almost felt pleasure when she jammed her mother’s brooch into the thug’s ear, piercing it into his brain.
Life became all about survival. Kill or be killed. Starve or steal. From one village to the next, home was a foreign concept. Perhaps she was a monster, she’d wonder, with each man she’d kill in order to survive another day, but how was she to know? Where did the lines between monster and human lie, and who defined that line? A paranoid mage who believed in old curses? That hardly seemed fair to her. All that she knew was that all her emotions felt so real, so palpable, they had to be human. To be human is to be joyous, to be melancholic, to be furious. To be human is to feel.
Love was an emotion she had never felt before, an emotion that lingered in the back of her head, made her wonder if she was truly human if she had never loved. She wondered what it felt like, if she would be able to recognize it if it was handed to her on a platter, but she figured petty things like love did not matter. If she had survived her whole life without it, how important could it be? Not important enough to concern herself with when she spent every waking moment trying to track down the man who had robbed her life from her. Her hunt for Stregobor was unrelenting, her taste for revenge bitter in her mouth each time she got close.
You were the one who found her one night, drunk at an inn after she came close, so close to finding Stregobor and ending him once and for all. The wizard had slipped through her fingers, again, and she swore it would be the last time. Her face was buried in her hands, her dark locks obscuring her face, her breaths heavy as she struggled to grapple with the disappointment and anger that swirled inside her. She didn’t mean to pull her dagger on you, grab your wrist and yank you towards her in a motion so swift you didn’t even comprehend what was happening until you felt the cool blade at your throat. You had taken her by surprise, trying to clean up the various pitches of mead she had emptied and left strewn across the oak table. Renfri’s eyes bore into yours, perplexed by the fear and curiosity that stared back at her, before she let you go, dropped her dagger onto the table as her fingers released your wrist. Her fingertips burned against your skin, but in a way that you wished she would touch you again, give you another adrenaline rush that electrified you. You cleared your throat, straightened your apron, joked about it a rough night. Renfri didn’t respond, still eyeing you up carefully, intrigued as to how you hadn’t already scrambled away in fear. After the ensuing silence, you gathered the pitchers and left, only to return a few minutes later with a new one that was filled to the brim.
Perhaps it was the tiny act of kindness, a gesture Renfri had never experienced before, or perhaps it was your sweet smile that she caught a glimpse of before you turned away, but Renfri knew she couldn’t let you go without at least getting your name.
You sat with her for the rest of the night, talking until the first rays of dawn. You had seen all sorts of customers, the drunks, the adventurers, the dangerous ones, and yet you couldn’t quite understand Renfri. She didn’t talk about her past, wouldn’t tell you where she was travelling from, instead choosing to listen to your story. Learned about the inn in which your family owned, watched as you pointed your mother and father out to her, your younger and older sister. She laughed over stories you’d tell about uproarious customers who’d pass by, felt her heart flutter at your smile, that sweet, endearing smile. When she knew it was time to go, she tried to pay you, yet you tucked the coins back into her palm, insisting that her company was all you needed. She didn’t understand how you could be so kind, so soft in a world that was anything but to her, but she fell in love. With you, with your kindness, with the gentle manner in which you treated everything and everyone around you. She couldn’t let you go, couldn’t let go one of the one good thing in her life, the one person whom she’d ever felt love for.
So she told you to come with her, to join her on her travels. She didn’t expect you to agree, yet she was euphoric when you did. You felt the same magnetism, felt the same pull to Renfri as she felt for you, and you knew you couldn’t let this one night be the one and only with Renfri. You were destined for many more nights, destined for so much more time together.
You trekked through the forests together, walked alongside the babbling rivers and under chirping birds, and the world felt sunnier with you by her side. Renfri swore that the sun seemed to brighten, that the trees were greener when you skipped amongst them. She knew she had to tell you where you were going. She knew she had to tell you who she was, but for the first time in so long, she was afraid. She spent her whole life being unapologetic for who she was, learning to own up to her identity and embrace it, but with you, she feared scaring you off. She feared not being accepted by the one opinion in the entire world that mattered.
When she first kissed you, it was at an old inn, on a creaking bed you stayed the night on before continuing on your journey to Blaviken. You insisted on just paying for one room to save Renfri’s coin, claiming you could sleep on the floor if Renfri didn’t want to share the bed, but she laughed, teased you for being so foolish as to think she’d let you stay on the floor. You were both drunk, swaying, words slurring and bodies too close to one another, crossing lines you would never be able to uncross. But when Renfri leaned forward to kiss you, closing the gap between your bodies, both of you knew that crossing this line was something you’d never regret. Your kiss was feverish, desperate, loving, hands running through hair, bodies tangling in thin sheets as you unlaced your shirts, wanting to feel her skin against yours.
You held her in your arms that night, running your fingers through her hair as Renfri rested against your shoulder, pressed kisses to your collarbone and smiled each time you giggled. It felt nice to finally be held, she thought, to love and be loved. And in her moment of softness, of vulnerability, she told you the truth. Told you about the eclipse that haunts her, told you about her cursed blood, about the poison that runs through her veins. Told you the reason you were travelling to Blaviken together. She forced herself to look at you, wanting to see every emotion that crossed your face, but there was not even a hint of fear. Not even a hint of you wanting to run from her. You pressed a kiss to her forehead, down her cheeks, to her lips, and your tone didn’t waver as you swore to her, that if she wasn’t the one to slit Stregobor’s throat, you would do it yourself.
You would? she asked you, voice low and quiet, her hand reaching for yours as your fingers intertwined. She wasn’t even sure if you could fight, if you knew how to handle a sword, yet she didn’t question the determination in your tone.
Yes, you reaffirmed. Because I love you.
She kissed you in response, mumbling against your lips that she loved you, too, repeating the words over and over again like a mantra. And every time you kissed her, you swore it was impossible that her lips could be poison. And even if they were, they tasted oh-so-sweet.
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Summary: Visenya Targaryen is the eldest and only surviving child of Rhaegar Targaryen and Elia Martell. When Robert Baratheon’s rebellion was won, instead of being slaughtered by the Mountain like her mother and siblings, she was saved by Ned Stark and taken as his ward. Years later, after she’s killed at the Red Wedding, she wakes up outside Blaviken. Now she finds her destiny intertwined with the White Wolf on her quest to go back home.
Note: Click here to read the previous chapters ♡ I would just like to say... I regret nothing. Enjoy!
P.S. let me know if you would like to be tagged!
Also, I just realized the tags weren’t working properly, so I’m sorry to anyone who asked but wasn’t tagged for Chapter 2!!
The threads of dawn slowly dissipate as time passes. Seconds tick by, transitioning into minutes and then hours before nearly the whole day has passed. Now instead of soft morning light flooding through the windows the sky is nearly pitch black, except for the stars faintly twinkling and the omnipresent moon. The wildly flickering candles fill the room with a warm glow, only leaving the corners untouched and in shadows.
The tavern is busier than before, workers fiending for a drink and a warm room to relax in after a long workday. Nearly all the tables are filled with chattering people, guzzling their drinks as if it’ll disappear if they wait a moment longer. Visenya stands at the bar pouring out cups of ale or portions of stew into bowls, her movements nearly robotic. Then she grabs a tray, precariously stacking everything in order to avoid any accidents and begins moving through the tavern. She glides and spins, narrowly managing to avoid any accidents as she dances through the room.
Visenya’s eyes scan each table, memorizing the faces of every person; the shape and color of their eyes, the way their mouths move when they speak, and the presence they hold. Her eyes flit from brown to black to blonde and then back to brown, hoping to catch a glimpse of white hair. But to no avail, no matter how many times she looks, even in the deepest corners, she’s met with the sting of disappointment. It seems nearly everyone in the town is in the tavern tonight. But her mind is focused on finding the one person that doesn’t appear to be here and hasn't been seen since the morning.
But that doesn’t mean the night will be boring. Perched on a barstool, nursing a cup in the exact same spot as this morning is Renfri. Her shoulder-length hair just as tousled and messy as before, if not more so. Her leather armor remains pristine while her red undershirt is wrinkled and unkempt, just like earlier. The broach clipped onto her shirt glitters in the candlelight, reflecting like a rainbow in Visenya’s eyes. Absentmindedly, Visenya moves towards her, like a moth enthralled by light, all the grace previously present in her movements gone. She bumps into a few people, muddled shouts of anger and disbelief following her like a shadow, but Visenya isn’t focused on them. And as she draws closer, what seems like a mixture of herbs and leather oil overcomes her senses. With each step, the smell grows stronger as Visenya’s inhibitions weaken. She feels enthralled by the scent, growing more addicted with each second ticking by.
Hearing her approach, Renfri turns her head, her gaze meeting Visenya’s. Her dark brown eyes glimmer like gold, the warm firelight illuminating them in a way the sun never could. They’re wide and bright and oh so welcoming, inviting Visenya to stare at them for days on end. Dirt smudges her face, looking more like war point than the outcome of traveling too long with too few baths. The vacant expression on her face disappears, replaced with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes and a slight smirk resting on her lips.
And for the first time in over a year, Visenya feels her heart stuttering, threatening to give out the longer Renfri watches her. The tray resting atop her hands begins to shake slightly, hardly noticeable that one could pass it off as due to a breeze. But the growing smirk on Renfri’s face tells Visenya the excuse would fall flat. And Visenya can’t help but mirror her expression, her heartbeat starting to pick up before it resembles a bird frantically flapping its wings.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were stalking me,” Visenya said, moving around the bar. Sometime along the way she drops the tray on the counter, the material clattering against the wooden surface. Her hands trail across the countertop with each step taken, feeling the roughness and mentally counting each grain on it. Along the way, she grabs a tankard filling it with one of the tavern’s smoother ales. Visenya’s eyes move from Renfri’s, scanning the room like she had approximately five minutes ago, but this time for a different reason. Instead of white hair, gold eyes, and a brooding presence, she’s looking for a short and stout man with a balding head and stringy facial hair. Content that Aldred is currently elsewhere, Visenya moves her attention to Renfri.
“And if I was?” Renfri replies, leaning ever so slightly towards Visenya, just enough that a subtle sweet scent invades Visenya’s nostrils. It’s delicate and delightful, similar to the blue winter roses in Winterfell. A chuckle escapes Visenya’s mouth as she stops, now directly across Renfri. Using her elbows to brace herself, she lowers her upper body to lean on the bar, bringing Visenya and Renfri to eye level.
“I’d tell you to stop being a coward, and approach me,” Visenya said, taking a small sip of her drink, savoring the way the smooth liquid glides down her throat.
“I’d also say that’s no easy task. You’re easily one of the most intimidating women I’ve met. In fact, I might even go as far as to say you’re the most intimidating of all of them,” Renfri said, taking a large drink from her tankard. A smirk pulls at the corner of Visenya’s lips, drinking in the teasing words that Renfri’s saying.
“And why is that, might I inquire?” Visenya moves forward a hair, leaving plenty of distance between the two of them to appear proper - somewhat. Proper enough to not draw any attention of the drunken patrons at least.
“Well, there’s the strong possibility you might break my arm if I say something you don’t like,” Renfri answers. A single ashen eyebrow raises at the answer, Visenya biting her lips to keep from laughing.
“Let’s say I do break your arm, what then?”
“Well then I guess I’ve got a broken arm.” Renfri leans closer.
“And still hanging around like my shadow, I hope.” Visenya draws closer as well.
“I reckon it’d take more than that to get rid of me,” Renfri said. Her lips curl into a teasing smile. Despite how cracked and dry they are, they are still full and pink. Something in the back of Visenya’s mind demands that she press her own mouth against them to learn what they taste like. And she nearly gives in to the impulse, desperate to memorize the feeling of the other woman's lips. But Visenya manages enough restraint to not.
Instead, she picks up her tankard and moves her glass towards Renfri’s, keeping their gazes locked together. She taps it with enough force to have the sound of wood against wood resonate around them, but still light enough to make sure not to spill anything.
“I’ll drink to that,” Visenya said, her teasing smile evolving into a genuine one. It’s small, barely causing wrinkles to form around her eyes. But it’s more than anyone’s gotten out of her in the past year. And somehow Renfri senses that. Maybe not fully grasping how profound the small moment was, or maybe she did but in a different way as Renfri mirrors the smile. Visenya’s heartbeat continues to beat erratically. And in that moment, she decides Renfri is easily the most beautiful person Visenya ever came across. Despite the heavy bags under her eyes due to a lack of sleep and the dryness clinging to her skin from too much drinking. And she can’t help but to mentally paint a picture of this moment.
Time draws on, feeling like hours have been lost in their silent stares and unspoken words. Their gazes only break every once in a while by Visenya pouring the two of them another drink or helping another patron. But they always snap back to each other. Until Renfri breaks their comfortable silence.
“You ever thought about leaving this shit hole?” Renfri asks, pulling away until she can no longer feel Visenya’s breath fanning across her face.
“And leave behind all these fantastic people? How could I ever? Best year of my life.” Visenya said, rolling her eyes.
“So why not leave?” Renfri asks with an intensity in her eyes Visenya has yet to see. Her eyes are devoid of the mirth that lingered in them only a moment prior, her lips are pulled into a thin line.
Why not just leave? The question echoes in her mind, repeating itself over and over again. It’s such a simple question, but Visenya finds herself tongue-tied none-the-less. The answer should be easy, something she’d know immediately. But she doesn’t. Because Visenya doesn’t even know why she’s stayed here for so long. She’d been working for room and board, so saving coin isn’t correct. And she clearly hasn’t enjoyed Blaviken or its citizens, so that answer is out the window.
“I guess I just didn’t know where else to go,” Visenya said, slowly mulling over each word as they left her mouth. She intertwines her fingers as they fumble together like a tangled string. The sarcastic comments and teasing smirks ripped away leaving her stripped and bare to Renfri’s sharp gaze. With nothing left to hide behind, Visenya is forced to face her emotions, the one thing she’d been avoiding.
Fear.
The fear of leaving this town and discovering she’ll never be able to get home. The fear of wandering from town to town her whole life only to get nowhere. At least here, trapped in this strange place with its strange people she can pretend there is still hope. It’s cowardly and stupid, and if this were someone else, Visenya would scoff in their face.
“Well, then I’ve got the offer of a lifetime, my dear Jane,” Renfri said, breaking Visenya from her internal uneasiness. The confidence in her voice is a stark contrast to the pathetic one Visenya used. It’s invigorating and completely different from the intensity Renfri previously held. Visenya merely hums in reply, allowing Renfri to continue.
“Come with my men and I when we leave. I could use the company of another woman, especially one that punches as hard as you.” Renfri boldly offers, referring to earlier in the day when Visenya punched a patron who thought he’d take her home. Evidently he thought wrong.
It sounds so outrageous and insane. They’d only really met today and already Renfri was offering her a spot on the road with her crew. They’d hardly done anything more than exchange sarcastic quips and prolonged eye contact. So Visenya did the only thing she could do. She laughed, loudly.
“You’re joking!” she exclaims in between laughs. “You have to be. We just met,”
“I’m afraid not. My offer is genuine,” Renfri replies, seemingly unphased by Visenya’s reaction. Instead, she drinks in the unbridled laughter leaving Visenya’s mouth, tracing the way her eyes turn into small crescent moons with her golden irises acting as stars lighting up the night sky.
“And if I turn out to be crazy? What I strip you of everything you have and leave you with nothing but a wounded ego?” Visenya presses, managing to gather her composure enough to continue a conversation.
“Well, then I’d hope you’d at least give me a good night before leaving.”
“You’re mad, you are absolutely mad,” Visenya exclaims, gathering the attention of the other patrons sitting at the bar.
“That may be so, but I’d rather never have to come here again. But I also don’t want you to slip away. So it seems you coming with me is the only viable option,” Renfri said.
“And if I refuse?” Visenya teases.
“Then I’ll drag you with me kicking and screaming,” Renfri said, in a matter of fact tone. A large smile lights up Visenya’s face, the sight as blinding as staring at the sun for too long.
“Alright, but if we’re going to do this, I’ve got a few questions for you. Answer them, and me and my fists of fury are all yours,” Visenya said, leaning against the countertop once more.
“Ask away, if it is in my power to answer I will.” Visenya grabs the nearby pitcher, refilling Renfri’s drink.
“First question, how much free alcohol do I get?” Visenya quips, slyly smirking at the woman. She then takes a sip from her cup as if to punctuate her question.
“As much as you want!” Renfri exclaims, getting a stifled laugh from Visenya.
“Question two, why are you in Blaviken? Besides, of course, to whisk away angry maidens on adventures,” Visenya asks, her voice lacking the light tone it held in her previous question. And the mood reflected that. The easy going atmosphere that surrounded them, blocking out the noise from the other people in the room, shifted into something tenser. Renfri’s smile dropped, forming a grimace.
“I can’t be here for the market in two days?” Renfri feigns offense but her tone is tight and strained.
“You could, but I don’t think that’s the only reason,” Visenya said, drinking from her tankard. Her eyes burn into Renfri, attempting to perceive any lies that might pour out of Renfri’s. She opens her mouth, then abruptly closes it again, and instead throws her head back as she brings the cup to her lips drinking its contents, before slamming the tankard on the bar.
“I want vengeance. Someone here stole something for me and I need to repay them,” she said, a ruthless edge in her voice. A tone Visenya knows all too well. After the death of Ned Stark, it was the only way Visenya ever heard Robb speak. Lady Catelyn would pick up the tone as well, blending rage with sorrow into the perfect storm as she mourned the lives of her children and husband. But it is also a tone Visenya often took up. From the moment she could know anything she had a chip on her shoulder because of the fate of her house. The ghost of her mother followed her everywhere she went. A constant reminder of the horrible fate she suffered at the hands of The Mountain, acting as fuel to the fire inside Visenya. Robb and Theon would tease her about how angry she was as a child, every word spoken like it was a threat, even if there wasn't one
Maybe that shared simmering rage is what brought them together. Two silly girls too angry for their own good.
“Who?” Visenya said, pushing for more information.
“Stregobor, the wizard hiding in his tower. He ruined my life and I intend to make him pay.” She says lowly, not allowing any nosy patrons to listen in on their conversation. “I used to be a princess, did ya know that. Until Stregobor sent his thug in the woods after me. He didn’t kill me like he was told to. Instead, he raped and then robbed me, intending to leave me there to die, so I ran my mother’s brooch through his eye.” Renfri said, holding Visenya's gaze. She waits for the woman to react, maybe shower her with sympathy or call her a monster. Maybe she’d run out of the tavern and never look Renfri in the eye again. Or maybe just run her through with a kitchen knife and collect payment from Stregobor. But that never happens. Visenya just nods her head.
“Okay.” she simply says.
“Okay?”
“I’ll go with you. After you get your vengeance I’ll be ready with my pack and traveling cloak.” Visenya says, downing the rest of her ale. A small smile appears on Renfri’s face, starting to distort their tense bubble.
“Okay.” She stands to leave, draining the rest of her drink as well. However, before she can walk away, Visenya reaches her hand out to grasp Renfri’s wrist. She faces her with a puzzled look.
“I know how you feel. I wasn’t able to get my vengeance, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t.”
With a single nod in response and an unreadable expression, Renfri leaves the tavern.
__________________
“Stupid dress.” Visenya angrily mutters, throwing the rumpled fabric onto the ground then kicking it in a corner. Visenya’s evening had been at an all-time high after Renfri left. A new pep in her step that was never there before as she finished her shift. She managed to avoid any confrontation, sidestepping drunks - both angry and touchy-feely. A smile was plastered onto her face and despite her best efforts, it wouldn't come off. She was leaving in two days’ time to set off on a new adventure and no one would ruin that. Until some sloppy drunk spilled his entire cup of ale on her when he ran into her.
This caused the tray of drinks she was holding to also fall on her. Like an idiot, Visenya sat on the ground covered in ale and food alike, as the patrons watched on, not lifting a finger to help. Simmering in her rage and humiliation, Visenya pushed herself off the ground. With her shoulder, she smacked the drunk that ran into her, who at the time was moaning about his spilled ale. He fell to the ground behind her with a thud, but Visenya didn’t bother to check. Her anger was placated by the promise of getting into dry clothes and a few hours away from the tavern before having to start the cycle all over again the next day. Her shift didn’t end until another few hours, but Visenya finds herself unable to care about the consequences. What could he do, kick her out? She’s already leaving.
“Stupid drunks.” She aggressively rips the tie that was holding her hair in place, throwing it in the direction of where she'd previously left her dress and takes off her shoes.
“Stupid town.” She throws her shoes off and launches them at the door. Each boot hits the wood with a resounding thud, not that it would be heard over the loud patrons below.
“And stupid world.” Visenya mutters, not sounding as angry as before. It only took three steps for Visenya to reach her bed from the door. Now just left in her undergarments, Visenya collapsed onto the mattress, it creaked under the unexpected weight, the straw under the sheets lumpy and harsh. But it was better than being on her feet.
“I’d hate to be the source of your ire.” A smug voice breaks through the silence. Visenya jumps from the bed, hand reaching for the sword she keeps under it. Pulling the hilt out of the sheath, she grips it so tightly, her hand turns white. Her heart hammers a million miles an hour, adrenaline begins to pump through her veins. She whirls towards the source of the voice, quickly deflating when she realized it was just Renfri.
“Renfri! What in Seven Hells are you doing here?” Visenya exclaims, dropping her sword on the ground. It clatters as it hits the floor, the metal glinting in the dim light. Her tight posture loosens as a breath of relief leaves her mouth.
“Enjoying a good show it would seem.” She says, nonchalantly sitting down in a chair that’s tucked in the corner of the room. And suddenly, after the fear of someone breaking into her room, Visenya becomes very aware that she is only in her underclothes. In an attempt to maintain nonchalance, she walks over to the chest that contains her clothing, reminding herself to take steady and slow breaths. The chest, that’s only two steps away from the bed, feels like it takes hours to reach. Each step in line with her heartbeat and slightly shaky breaths.
It’s just the aftermath of being scared, nothing more, she tries to convince herself but finds herself unable to be placated by the words. The familiar feeling of butterflies in her stomach returns. Her heart begins to speed up again, beating wildly in her chest.
Upon reaching the trunk, she leans down, fully aware that Renfri's gaze hadn't once left her form. Opening it, she grabs the first piece of fabric she sees, not caring how it looks or what it is. She throws on what turns out to be another dress before turning back to Renfri.
“Is that how you welcome all your guests?” Renfri continues after Visenya is dressed. Feeling more comfortable in real clothes, Visenya moves over to the bed, sitting at the end to face Renfri, only to then realize that their knees are almost touching.
It’s a small room.
“Only the ones I really like,” Visenya answers, maintaining her cool, unwilling to show how unnerved she is from Renfri’s unannounced visit.
“Now I’m truly flattered,” Renfri smirks at her. Outwardly, nothing about Renfri or her demeanor seemed different, but something about the air around her seemed more predatory. Like a wolf about to eat its next meal.
“But really, why are you here? I already agreed to come with you?” Visenya said. Renfri begins to play with a small pendant in her hand, fingers rolling across its smooth surface.
“You said you knew how I felt? What did you mean?” Renfri asks, her doe-like brown eyes meeting Visenya’s own amber ones.
At that moment, Visenya realized how extremely her appearance and demeanor differed. On the outside, Renfri had the features of a soft noblewoman - if not for the tangled hair and dirt on her face - but in reality, Renfri seemed deadly and ruthless. Another similarity it seems. Two women destined for the life of a pampered and protected princess, yet fate decided to be cruel. And for different reasons, they were forced to change from silk to steel, hardening their exteriors until they’re unable to be broken. A sigh leaves Visenya, thinking of ways to answer the simple yet incredibly complicated question.
“I used to be a princess too. It was somewhere far away from here, somewhere you’d never even heard of. There was a rebellion and my family lost. My father died on the battlefield; my grandfather - while a horrible man - was stabbed in the back by someone sworn to protect him; and my mother and siblings were slaughtered. I was only spared because a lord didn’t want to see another child murdered. He raised me as his ward and that was that.” Visenya said, the words are easier than expected.
A piece of her expects the words to feel like a thousand cuts as they rolled off her tongue.
The bitter words should feel like poison going down her throat, slowly killing her as it goes. But it doesn’t feel like that. Instead she felt nothing, a cold numbness overtaking her body. Maybe the absence of pain is worse than the pain itself because it shakes the foundation she built her life around. All her life Visenya held onto ghosts, clinging to her anger because it’s the only thing she ever had control over. No matter how grateful she was for Lord Stark saving her, no matter how happy and free she felt with Robb, Jon, Theon, and all the other Starks, she was a bird trapped. The cage was beautiful, warm, and welcoming, but it was still a cage. Or maybe Visenya just convinced herself it was.
“I was only one at the time.” she finishes. Renfri is silent, just staring at Visenya.
“You said you never got vengeance?” she asks, no discernable emotions on her face.
“Never had the chance. Robert Baratheon, who led the rebellion, died on a hunt. And I…” died before I could get vengeance on the others, Visenya wanted to say but the words got caught. She swallows the lump that found its way into her throat. Tears prick the corners of her eyes, but Visenya is too stubborn to let them fall. Too stubborn to allow the sadness to poison her, not when things were finally looking up. So she did what she’s best at. She took her sadness and despair and fear, then turned it into anger.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Renfri says, breaking the silence around the two.
“Don’t be. There’s nothing either of us can do for them. But you can still get your vengeance. Don’t let Stregobor slip away from you. Don’t be like me, working in a town you hate because you’re too afraid to do anything else.” Visenya firmly said.
“You don’t think I should let go of my anger?” Renfri said, a sarcastic lilt weaved into her words. “Be the better person and move on?”
Visenya allows the words to seep into her brain, pausing for a moment to articulate her feelings. And when she finally talks, the words feel like fire coming out of her mouth. Like a dragon roaring as it turns its enemies to ash, leaving nothing behind but the memory of their existence.
“I think you should reign fire on them all.”
Time stands still. Renfri and Visenya carefully watch the other, waiting for someone to do something. Renfri, who faces had been passive and unfeeling, begins to contort into something… fierce. Her lips curl upwards, but not into a smile or even a smirk. No, her lips are curled upwards as she bares her teeth. Her brown eyes are alight with a fire Visenya had never seen in anyone else. Like a dragon reigning hell upon its enemies. And for a moment Visenya wonders if this is what people see when they look at her? When her temper flares and her anger becomes uncontrollable. Is this the face that stares back at them?
Renfri abruptly stands from her sitting position to close the small distance between them. She crouches down on her knees, positioning herself to be in between Visenya legs. Ice cold hands wrap around Visenya’s hot hands, the contact bringing a small sense of comfort to Visenya.
“I promise you, Jane. We will kill every last one of those people who hurt you that still breathe. After I kill Stregobor we will sail to your homeland and get vengeance I swear it.” Renfri said. And something about the fervent look in her eyes and the force that Renfri speaks, Visenya believes her. A heat that wasn’t there before fills her body, warming her already temperate body. Meeting Renfri’s gaze with stars in her eyes, Visenya’s face twists into a euphoric expression.
No one ever promised to right the wrongs done to her family. The Starks were sympathetic about but never took it farther than that. And everyone else… well everyone else already deemed the Targaryens a house of madmen unfit for justice. Yet here’s Renfri, a woman who’d only known her for hardly more than a day, swearing to bring Visenya the vengeance she thirsts for. The chance to destroy her enemies and return them and their houses to the dirt. Even if Visenya knew they never could.
“But you just met me -” Visenya begins, her voice a whisper, eyes searching Renfri’s for any lies. But she finds nothing but fury. Fury, and passion.
“We’ve been over this before Jane. Besides, life’s too short to worry about things like that,” Renfri said, cutting off Visenya’s babbling.
“Visenya,” she said. Her voice barely above a whisper. So quiet it could be mistaken for the wind. “My name is Visenya.” This time the words are louder and more confident. Renfri stares at her for a moment.
“I promise you, Visenya,” she whispers, pulling Visenya’s hands around her neck. The noise from the tavern fades from Visenya’s mind, the seconds seemingly turning into hours. With each second ticking by, her body temperature rises, but not uncomfortably so. Her eyes stare into Renfri’s, counting the flecks of gold that lie hidden deep within them. Their breaths mingling in the little space left between them, the distance between them smaller than it's ever been; close enough Visenya can nearly taste the scent of Renfri on the tip of her tongue.
“You’re a dragon, be a dragon” Visenya yells in her mind, willing herself to for once take a risk. Not like the ones she took in Winterfell when she was a little girl swiping extra bread, but a real one. Something that could matter. So, with a burst of courage, she pushes her face towards Renfri’s, connecting their lips before she can talk herself out of it.
Immediately, Renfri pulls her closer, kissing her with more vigor than Visenya displayed. Like an alcoholic, Visenya feels herself getting addicted to Renfri and the feeling of her lips. They’re rough and dry, but Visenya drinks them up like she hasn’t had a drop of water in weeks. She feels herself getting lost in the feeling, unable to allow her mind to focus on anything other than Renfri’s hands in her own and the taste of her lips. Ale and raspberries linger on her mouth. At that moment, Visenya decides the taste of raspberries is her favorite.
In one swift movement, Renfri pushes Visenya down onto the bed, following the movements to straddle her. She takes her time exploring every inch of skin from between her neck down to her hips. A guttural moan escapes Visenya’s mouth as Renfri nips at her lips ---
“Jane! Get out of your room and back to work!” Visenya jumps at the sudden noise, almost immediately separating from Renfri. Aldred aggressively bangs on the door a few more times. The wooden floors creak under his weight as his footsteps grow farther away. She sighs in frustration at the interruption. Renfri deftly rolls off of Visenya and begins finger combing her hair, now even more unruly thanks to Visenya, who stands up and steps away from Renfri and her bed. Two footsteps and she’s putting on her boots.
“Until tomorrow I suppose,” Renfri said, slowly getting off the bed. She approaches Visenya, placing a whisper of a kiss on the corner of her mouth. And before Visenya can do anything else or even blink, Renfri disappears out her window, leaving it wide open as she did.
The suddenly intruding cold was welcome as it helped cool down Visenya's flushed face.
The tavern seemed full of eyes that watched you, attracted by you. Your eyes, however, could see nothing but Renfri as you returned by her side with both your drinks.
“You have a few admirers, it seems” Her brown eyes traveled across the room, although all those people realized who you were sitting with and why.
“Pity I’m someone’s girlfriend” As you occupied your seat, you leaned closer to Renfri to leave a teasing kiss on her lips.
“They better remember” She smirked, taking ahold of her tankard and raising it up. “I get jealous easily”
“I noticed” You joked, lifting your own mug and bumping it against her.
Renfri chuckled, pausing to stare at you before taking a swig of her ale.
-
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