GOT: P Chapter 35

The camp was already breaking when the sun came up. Horses bridled, wagons packed, men shouting over one another. The Young Wolf was moving west for war.

Rhaenys's cart faced south, away from it all. Her men were loading the last of the packs. The road ahead was dry and empty.

Velmir stood beside her, wings tucked tight, the faint glow of his feathers dimmed to embers. Even like that, he drew stares. No one in the Stark army had ever seen such a creature. They can't get used to it. When he shifted, horses snorted and men gripped their reins tighter.

Robb approached through the noise, helm under one arm, his expression somewhere between a man who lead and hesitation.

"You’re set on leaving, then?" he asked.

"Yes," she said.

"South won't be kind," he said quietly. 

"Kindness was never been promised to me."

That earned the faintest smile from him. He didn't hold it long.

Behind him, Arya lingered near the wagons, pretending to check her horse's strap. She'd grown used to Rhaenys these past weeks, not close, but familiar. A rescuer you didn't quite know how to thank.

Rhaenys nodded to her. "Come on then, out with it."

Arya came closer, hands behind her back. "Didn’t think you’d really go."

“I told you I would,” Rhaenys said.

Arya kicked at the dirt. “Didn’t think you would.”

“You don’t think much of promises, do you?” Rhaenys asked, a faint smile tugging at her mouth.

“Not after.....” Arya muttered. “Too many broken ones.”

Rhaenys didn’t argue. “You’ll learn which ones matter.”

Arya glanced up, squinting. “Think we’ll meet again?”

Rhaenys gave a small shrug. “Stranger things have happened.”

Arya pointed toward Velmir, who was watching them both. “If we do, I want to see him again.”

Velmir tilted his head, feathers rustling. The sound made a few men nearby look up, uneasy. Arya grinned. “He remembers me, doesn’t he?”

“He does,” Rhaenys said. “And he doesn’t forget faces easily.”

“Good,” Arya said, then hesitated. “You’ll be careful?”

“I’m not,” Rhaenys said, a bit of dry humor in her tone. “But I’ll manage.”

Arya gave a small laugh. “Safe road, then.”

“Keep your wits about you,” Rhaenys said. “And you.”

Arya gave one last look to Velmir, whispered something like “Don’t forget,” then turned back toward her brother.

Robb was waiting, silent. When Rhaenys turned to him, the noise of the camp seemed to fade a little, the kind of silence that isn’t empty and awkward.

She broke it first. “Safe march, Lord Stark.”

He gave a short nod. “Safe road, Princess.”

It hung there between them. Something almost said, almost not. He looked like he wanted to speak again, something personal, but stopped himself. Commander first. Man later.

Rhaenys climbed into the cart. Her men mounted up. Velmir spread his wings, stretching once before he took to the sky. The rush of air and heat made the nearest horses rear and snort, but no one dared curse out loud.

Robb didn't flinch. Just watched her leave.

Arya stood beside him, squinting after the cart as it moved south. "You’ve gone quiet.," she said.

“I’ve a war to think on,” Robb said.

“Aye, and her too.”

He gave her a sharp look. “Watch your tongue.”

“I’m only saying,” Arya muttered.

“That’s enough, Arya.” Robb said flatly.

“Didn’t say I was wrong.”

He sighed. “Off with you.”

“Aye, my lord,” she said, still grinning as she went.

Robb stayed there a while, watching the fading trail of dust where Rhaenys had gone. When Velmir's shadow crossed over the camp one last time, he looked up. The bird circled once, then vanished into the clouds.

Robb murmured, almost to himself, “Thank you.”.

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The south road was rough, the kind that broke wheels and patience. Velmir flew ahead, a blur against the sun. Every time he came down, people scattered. They weren't used to a creature that glowed like it burns and more than half a man size. Still growing.

And her.

Rhaenys, she didn't hide her face anymore. There was no point. The war had taken too much for secrets to matter.

When they stopped by an old way-station that night, Velmir landed beside her, claws digging into the dirt.

"You scare them," she said quietly, unbothered.

Velmir raised his head to meet her gaze.

She gave a small breath that might’ve been a laugh. “Can’t say I blame them.”

He lowered his head slightly, the glow along his wings dimming.

Rhaenys looked at him a moment longer. “Still… you enjoy it, don’t you?”

Velmir blinked once, slow.

“Fine,” she muttered. “Maybe I do too.”

Velmir made a low noise, tired more than anything and folded his wings, settled beside the dying campfire.

The next day, they crossed into Dorne. The patrol that stopped them didn't ask many questions. They just stared, swallowed hard, and let them pass.

When the first dunes came into sight, Rhaenys stood in the cart, wind pulling at her cloak.

"Sixteen years," she said softly. "Let’s see who still remembers I lived."

Velmir landed beside her, his feathers catching the light like embers. She didn't look at him. She didn't need to.

“Or if they remember at all,” she added softly.