The first time Visenya met Lady Lucinda Blackwood - she was determined to hate her.

In the year that had passed since Driftmark, life on Dragonstone had become a comfort to Visenya - the sea airs, and the smoke that clung to the island from the Dragonmount. With the birth of Aegon, Visenya had fallen back into her role as a protector - a role she took seriously. She had taken to training more vigorously - a motivation like no other driving her to keep going, even as her muscles screamed with protest. 

If only her mother would abate her demands for Visenya to grow her household, obtain ladies-in-waiting.

Visenya was not well liked at court - particularly by the women. Her ways were too brash, too barbaric for many. It was frowned upon - how she preferred to spend her time in the training yard, roughhousing with her brothers - and not inside gossiping or doing dreadful needle work. 

This made it difficult for her to find friends in court. It did not bother her - she would much prefer the company of her brothers anyway.

But, she was still a princess of royal blood. That entailed the expectation of acquiring ladies-in-waiting as part of her household. 

Her mother's own ladies-in-waiting were people Visenya was fond of. Elinda Massey was kind, always amused and filled with mirth by Visenya's antic - though she hid it behind barely concealed smiles as her mother fondly rolled her eyes. There had been two others Visenya remembered - two Strong sisters that had been so alike and as different as sisters could get. Visenya remembered them being the main instigators for her when she was young - the two finding laughter whenever Visenya would come back with a mud caked dress. They would help her out of the ruined clothes whilst secretly sliding her breeches and tunics into her wardrobe with a wink. They had left Rhaenyra's service not long after Harwin and Lyonel's deaths - going home for the funerals and finding husbands of their own. 

Rhaenyra had first broached the subject in the days of Visenya's recovery - as she got stronger and more restless as the days were worn on. Visenya had adamantly denied the need for any ladies, sneering as she thought of some prissy highborn lady who scowled upon Targaryen customs - who would gaze with disgust at Visenya's tunics and trousers, or her sword that was safely secured in her rooms. 

Her mother was adamant about it, however. Even if Visenya had managed to wear her down - Rhaenyra insisted she at least meet a few high born ladies that had been sent by their Arryn cousin. 

Lucinda Blackwood was sent by Jeyne after she had heard of Rhaenyra's search for ladies-in-waiting for her daughter. Lady Blackwood was the second youngest of the Blackwoods - and she had been sent to serve Lady Arryn after her tenth name-day. She was around the same age as Visenya - if a year or two younger.

And Visenya was still determined to hate her. 

She grunted as she blocked a swing from Daemon's sword - swiftly ducking under his reach whilst flourishing her blade. Their swords locked together once more as she rose up - the two locked in a methodical dance they had only just begun to develop. 

For lack of better teachers - Visenya had begrudgingly accepted Daemon's annoying presence. First approaching him with the desire to learn from him when he managed to effortlessly disarm Ser Darklyn with just one flourish of his blade. Daemon had smirked - that annoying smirk Visenya knew her own face often held, and she could now understand why Jace and Luke would get frustrated with her - and had promptly attacked Visenya without warning, knocking her to her arse in seconds.

Sweat dripped down her neck - her muscles aching in that delightful way.

"Why are you so against the idea?" Daemon questioned - as he thrust his blade at Visenya.

The girl effortlessly knocked it away, returning with her own swing that Daemon blocked - metal singing through the air. "Because I have no need for some prissy highborn lady to wait on me." She grunted, weaving away from Daemon's reach. "I don't need someone else to sneer down at me - I've had enough of that for a lifetime."

"You haven't even met the girl yet." Daemon chuckled, pivoting with their swords locked. "And yet you already judge her so harshly. The Blackwoods have been our ally for centuries."

Visenya grunted again, unlocking their blades with a twirl. She swung at Daemon - to which he caught her blade with his own - unwrapping one hand from his handle and gripping her wrist. He then swung a foot at her legs - swiping them from under her. Visenya fell with a grunt - wind knocked from her lungs and left her breathless. The feel of cold metal under her chin had her glaring up against the sun at the smirking face above her. 

Daemon laughed as she angrily pushed the blade away - reaching a slightly hopeful hand that he silently desired her to take. Visenya was particular about whose hands - and whose touch - she would accept. He had yet to gain that privilege, but still he tried. 

Visenya stared at the offered palm for a moment - gazing at the callouses that mirrored her own. Her hands clenched around the grains of sand beneath her palms, before she ignored the hand offered to her and stood by herself.

Daemon watched her, letting his hand drop back to his side. He ignored the slight pang of disappointment in his chest - buried it under thick layers of shields. 

Visenya frowned, wiping the grains of sand clinging to her clothes. Daemon stood back, Dark Sister held loosely in his grip as he watched her bend to pick up her own blade and flick the specks of sand off it.

"You may not like it, but this is how we play the game." Daemon said, once she was upright. "I don't like it either - "

"That much is obvious." Visenya spoke dryly, a spread of amusement as Daemon glared at her for interrupting.

"However, " Daemon continued, "Maintaining allies is important. Make your mother happy, and at least meet the girl. She may surprise you."

Visenya scoffed quietly, fiddling with the sword in her hand. "I could do with little surprises these days."

Daemon hummed, eyes lingering on the healed scar - still pink and new - that trailed along her temple. With Visenya's hair tied back into a braid - as it usually was - it was very easy to catch sight of the new and shiny scar. 

They certainly could do with less surprises.

"Princess."

Visenya barely withheld a groan, turning to stare at the knight who had addressed her.

Ser Darklyn bowed slightly at the hip, "Your mother requests your presence in the chamber of The Painted Table."

Visenya hummed, dry and sarcastic drawl to her tone. "My, my, isn't she demanding. I was sure I just saw her at luncheon."

Daemon nudged her, sharp elbow digging into her side, that she glared at him heatedly. Daemon merely regards her with a look - that Visenya rolls her eyes at. 

She turns back to Ser Darklyn, who stands awkwardly in his position. With a huff, she nods. "Very well. I'll go there now."

She begins her walk back to the castle, Daemon and the knight trailing behind her. 

"Shouldn't you like to clean up first, Princess?" Ser Darklyn questions, gazing over her clothes that are covered in specks of sand, roughed and creased from hours of training. 

"Whatever for?" Visenya grins, spinning around to talk to the two whilst she walks. "My mother demands my presence, best not to keep her waiting."

She spins back around, hearing Daemon's light laughter as she walks away from the two. She is unable to fight the grin on her own face - as much as she hates it, it is often Daemon she finds herself compared to. Even she could admit they are similar in many ways.

Visenya strutted through the halls of Dragonstone, cracking her knuckles as she walked past guards and servants alike. She made light work of stealing an apple out of a bowl a passing servant carried, crunching on the juicy fruit without a care for decorum. 

She arrives outside the door of the Painted Table, still quietly chewing on pieces of apple, only a core left in her palm. She sniffed, swallowing the last bit of food, before tossing the core to one of the two guards standing outside the chambers. She smiled, mirthfully at the man. Chuckling quietly as his face pulls in disgust, looking at the eaten core now laid in his palms. 

Visenya patted his shoulder, still laughing quietly under her breath. She let the laugh die in her throat, straightening her spine and setting her shoulders back as she walked through the doors before her.

The sight she was met with was not one she expected. Her mother and Lady Blackwood, sat apart and laughing.

Granted, she was not told much about Lady Lucinda Blackwood - only knew the knowledge of the family she came from. 

Visenya's first thought was that she was beautiful. With a thick mane of chestnut curls, tightly tied away from her face to give view to a sharp cheekbones, a gentle slope to her nose, plump and full lip, and eyes so divine, made of the same green that painted the forests Visenya could only dream of exploring, that twinkled with mirth. Her lips pulled back into a polite, yet amused, smile as Rhaenyra spoke to her in soft tones. Visenya could only think of how it was a smile that would have pleased the gods, it was so perfect.

Her second thought was to banish the first - bury it deep inside and remember this was someone she wanted to despise, for Visenya had no need of a Lady and would act as such.

"My girl." Rhaenyra smiled at the sight of her daughter, eyes taking stock of her state of dress. "You are filthy."

Visenya removed her eyes from Lady Blackwood - feeling the girl's eyes finally turn to Visenya herself. She smiled at her mother, grin sharp yet familiar to Rhaenyra. "Mother." She looked herself over, suddenly self-conscious of her state in front of Lady Blackwood. "So I am."

"I should have expected as such." Rhaenyra rolled her eyes fondly, smiling kindly at Lady Blackwood. "She used to run around covered in mud after sneaking off to the training grounds. It was like trying to chain a dragon to the ground, she could never stay in one place for long. Some things never change."

Lady Blackwood laughed quietly, and Visenya suddenly had the biggest instinct to blush with embarrassment. 

"Mother!" Visenya glared lightly, light flush lighting her cheeks and painting the ends of her ears red.

"I am only teasing, my girl." Rhaenyra smiled, standing and walking over to her daughter. She cupped her daughter's cheek, brushing a grain of sand away with her thumb that seemed intent on clinging to the girl's skin, which she then moved to soothe over the raised scar painting her temple. Visenya groaned quietly, embarrassed flush igniting tenfold at the action. Rhaenyra laughed quietly, placing a kiss to the side of Visenya's head. "How was training?"

"The same." Visenya grumbled, "Can never seem to beat the old bastard."

"You will." Rhaenyra says, "Daemon was still getting knocked to his backside by your great-grandfather when he was your age. The skill will come, as will your victory. First you must learn to lose. Give it time."

Visenya sighed, nodding to her mother's words. Her eyes subconsciously dart to the dark haired girl standing behind her mother. Rhaenyra caught the action, and smiled. Turning to greet the Lady again.

"Lady Lucinda, I do not believe you have met my daughter, Princess Visenya Velaryon."

The girl shakes her head at the words, bending to fall into a curtsey. "Princess."

Visenya shifts, awkwardly nodding her head. "My lady."

Lucinda smiles at the awkward shift of her body, and Visenya feels that ever present blush flame across her cheeks, making her duck her head lightly. 

Rhaenyra watches her daughter with amusement clouding her eyes, pursing her lips to bite back at the smile that threatened to break against them. 

"Lady Blackwood has traveled a long way, my dear." Rhaenyra says, "Perhaps you can show her to her rooms?"

"Of course." Visenya nods, turning to Lady Blackwood. She finds her skin tingling under her heavy gaze, prickles along her neck rising. "My lady?"

Lucinda gazed at Visenya for a moment, the Princess feeling scrutinized under the eyes. Lucinda's lips were pursed, as if she were examining the Princess and was found not liking. It made Visenya angry, her gaze feeling exactly like that of those that ostracized her in King's Landing. 

Lucinda bowed her head to Rhaenyra, "Princess."

Visenya's gaze followed her figure as she walked to the door, frustration already building at how perfect Lucinda seemed to be - in every part of the way she walked, talked, held herself. A proper lady.

Visenya felt her mother grab her clenched hand, unwinding the fingers until the nails no longer dug painfully into her palm. Visenya sighed, unleashing the tension from her limbs.

"I know you don't like it." Rhaenyra says, softly. "But this is a duty of ours we must bear. It is important to have people loyal to you, my girl."

"You think she will be loyal to me?" Visenya scoffs. "She is a lady, all proper and prim. I am..." She looks over herself, her tunic and breeches that would have highborn ladies scowling at her, her sword belt ever tied around her waist, along with the heavy blade she always carried. She was not the picture of a Princess - with their dresses and their jewels. "Me."

"You are a royal Princess." Rhaenyra says, hands cupping Visenya's cheeks, holding them so that their eyes are connected. "A warrior, and my daughter. If you are to one day rule this realm, you must have people you can trust - and they can't all be just your brothers."

Visenya closes her mouth as her retort dies on her tongue, her mother smiling gently as fingers soothingly ran over the skin of her cheek.

"Give her a chance." Rhaenyra says, "That is all I ask of you."

Visenya sighs, air blowing through her nose. Her jaw clenches and unclenches, whilst she absentmindedly cracks her knuckles, feeling comfort in the way the tendons pop under her pressure.

"Very well." She finally says.

Rhaenyra smiles, crooked and gentle that it is. Releasing her hold of Visenya, she soothes a hand through her wild hair - askew from her braid.

"Off with you then. Best not to keep a lady waiting."

Visenya bows her head, spinning on her heel to exit the room. Outside she finds the Lady Lucinda waiting, forest eyes darting towards her the moment her footsteps echo in the hallway.

"If you would follow me, Lady Blackwood." Visenya walks past without a glance in her direction. She hears Lucinda's footsteps fall in line behind her.

"Might I say," Lucinda's voice, smooth and light, sounds from behind her. "It is quite an honour to be brought into your household, Princess."

"You haven't." Visenya stops her train of thought, "Not yet, at least. I do this to appease my mother - she fears for my safety, it seems, in light of recent events. Her solution is ladies like you - she does not seem to realise that tongues are easy to wag, drip their honeyed words into awaiting ears." She looks over her shoulder, a bitter smirk painting her lips. "Just as easy as you are right now."

She doesn't see Lucinda's affronted look as she turns back around.

"I reject that accusation, Princess."

Visenya pauses in her step, slowly turning to face Lucinda. She grins at the clear annoyance painting the lady's face, how her lips purse and her brows furrow.

"Do you?" Visenya smirks.

"Yes." Lucinda narrows her gaze, "It seems you think everyone who is not your family is a traitor in the waiting. It is wildly offensive to the oath my family has upheld for years, when my ancestor bent the knee to Aegon The Dragon."

"And will you uphold that oath?" Visenya stalks closer to her, "When the time comes for my grandsire to die, who is it your family will follow?"

Lucinda stares up at Visenya, the Princess a towering figure even at her young age. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean, Princess."

"As of now, there are rats that reside in King's Landing. They warm my grandsire's throne as he grows as weak as his will. These same rats would conspire to change my grandsire's wishes. Should they do so, who's word will you follow?"

Lucinda stares, Visenya's words sinking in. It is known that Princess Rhaenyra's family had fled to Dragonstone not long before the deaths of Lyonel and Harwin Strong - as it was also known the rumours of the parentage of the Princess's children. And then there was that incident at Lady Laena's funeral, to which Visenya was injured almost fatally. Lucinda finds her eyes darting to that same scar, pink and shiny in its newness, barely even a year old. It was said the Princess gained it from protecting her brothers, others say it was from her own foolishness - thinking she could match the skill of the One-Eyed Prince.

"The Blackwoods uphold their oath to King Viserys' heir." Lucinda says, eyes locked with violet ones - magestic in their nature. "As we have, and will, for years."

Visenya hums, gaze raking over the girl. "We shall see."

The Princess spins back around, continuing her march of the halls. Lady Blackwood watches her for a moment, bewilderment painting her every feature at the Princess's blunt accusations. Lucinda scoffs quietly, following the Princess in her path.

The two halt to a stop outside a set of doors, Visenya glancing at Lucinda for a moment before pushing the doors open. It gives sight to a large room, set out with a albiet small, but lavish bed, with a desk residing in the corner, a window that gives sight to a view of the sea. It was a luxuriush room - not like that of the royal family, but still better than Lucinda had ever seen.

"These are your rooms for the duration of your stay." Visenya leans against the doorway, meticulously cracking each of her knuckles, feeling the tendon pop with pleasure and ease. "Should you wish, servants will come and clean it for you. Food will be provided whenever you ask, just call for a guard outside. I would not recommend wandering the castle at night." An amused smirk lights her lips. "Those not accustomed to dragons are easily scared by their shadows over the land."

"My thanks, Princess." Lucinda stands straight, smooth voice like a grater against Visenya's ears. At least, that is what she makes herself believe. "I am sure I shall enjoy them thoroughly through my years of service."

Visenya hums, pushing off from her perch to walk closer to the lady. "My mother seems to think you are someone of loyalty. I give you a chance to prove that."

"I hope I live up to expectations, Princess."

Before another word could be uttered between the two, a small body comes bursting through the doors, slamming into Visenya's legs with a yell. The Princess lets out an undignified yelp, barely managing to catch herself before her crumbled to the floor. Lucinda watches with barely concealed shock, childish giggles echoing around the room.

"Luke!"

Said boy giggles from where he pins Visenya to the floor, a bright smile upon his lips. "Mother said it's time for dinner."

Visenya glares playfully, "And you could not think of any other way to announce that?"

Luke shrugs, still grinning down at Visenya. "You're the one who didn't hear me. You always say to expect the unexpected."

Visenya raises a brow. "Oh, is that right?" She latches her lithe arms around Luke's shoulders, crushing the boy against her chest as she rises from the floor, flinging the boy over her shoulder. Luke's giggles light the room, Visenya grinning slightly at the joyous sound. She sets the boy down, ruffling his thick curls and lightly shoving his head away.

"Devious little lord." Visenya grumbles with a grin. "Be careful next time. Mother would kill me if you impaled yourself upon my sword in the actions of a jest."

Luke's eyes flick to where Lucinda stands, the lady herself having a small smile pulling at the corners of her lips, witnessing the love displayed between the siblings. 

"Who is she?" Luke stands slightly behind Visenya, like he could hide between her tall figure.

Visenya glances from her brother to Lucinda, contemplating for a small moment. She sees no ulterior motive behind Lucinda's eyes, doesn't see that same disgust that would paint high born ladies features when they would witness how Visenya would act with her brothers - so unlike that of a Princess. Visenya sighs quietly, hand drifting to run through Luke's curls.

"This is Lucinda Blackwood. She's to be my new lady-in-waiting for a time."

Lucinda smiles kindly at Luke, "Pleasure to meet you, my Prince."

Luke's wide eyes travel from Lucinda to his sister, staring up at her like she held all the answers to the world. Lucinda found it endearing, how insurmountable the level of trust Luke held for his elder sister, how he hid behind her lithe body - using her as a protector against the world around him. And how Visenya would hold him close, her hands drifting to soothe through his curls - an act that seemed to comfort her just as much as him. It was a language that could only be shared between siblings, understandable for no one except them.

...

Visenya's gaze kept wandering, darting her focus from her own forms and motions to just a few leagues away - where the thumping of arrow heads embedding to a target echoed over the training yard. The archer behind these shots, the very same Lady Visenya was determined to hate.

Lucinda was magnificent in her stance, lithe and strong arms pulling at the bowstring, forest green eyes focused on only the target in front of her. With each shot, her arrow strikes true, burying in the centre of the straw man's heart. 

Visenya hisses, rubbing at where the strike had landed on her arm. She glares at Baela's smug look, how the smirk pulls at its lips.

"Shut up."

"I haven't said anything." Baela laughs.

"Your face says enough." Visenya grumbled, twirling her blade in her hand - an unconscious habit she had picked up and never let down. 

"Maybe my face speaks the truth." Baela grins. "Just admit you like her. All can see it."

"I do not." Visenya glares, eyes darting to said girl. "She is a prissy little high born, who is made of the same ilk that all others are. The only thing she seeks is to raise her standing."

"Not everyone is out to get us, Visenya." Baela rolls her eyes. "You think you must protect us from everything, but you do not. Some people understand the meaning of loyalty, and I believe Lady Lucinda is one of those people."

"You do, do you?" Visenya raises her brows, with quick succession she flicks her blade towards Baela, the girl quickly bringing her own up to parry the blow. The two dance around each other, blades connecting with a ring to the air.

"Why is it so hard for you to trust people?" Baela breathes heavily, staring up at the older girl.

Visenya grunts, lightly shoving the girl as she disconnects their blades, flourishing the blade to strike once again. "My whole life, people like her have sneered down at me. The way I dress, the way I act, the fact of which that I preferred the art of sword skill to that of needle work. Everyday their stares followed me, the whispers trailing my footsteps. Tell me how I am to trust her word when Lords and Ladies alike were able to so blatantly to whisper and sneer at the Crown Princess's children."

"This is not king's Landing." Baela frowns. "Do you truly believe the Princess would open our home to the same snakes that infested the Red Keep."

Visenya paused, chest heaving with exerted breaths, mind racing with thoughts. No, her mother would not risk the endangerment of her children if she thought anyone would become a threat to them. 

"You're right." Visenya nods. 

"As I usually am." Baela grins, her face growing serious as she focuses on the fight. She works hard to unlock her blade from Visenya's, little arms shaking under the pressure of Visenya's blows. Baela barely manages to duck under one blow, catching Visenya off guard as her fist comes in contact with the girl's cheek.

Visenya grunts lightly, head barely flicking to the side. The blow was firm, not as painful as when her head was bashed into a wall, but still the intent was there.

"I'm sorry." Baela immediately drops her blade to the floor, regret painting her every feature.

"Don't be." Visenya smiles slightly, "That was very brave, forgoing your defense for the chance to land a blow to your enemy." She rubs at her cheek. "And you struck true. Maybe we should start calling you Baela The Brave."

Baela positively brightens under the moniker, eyes alight and white smile shining in the sun. Visenya grins, watching the girl with delight. The passing year had allowed Visenya to forgo her anger in favour of getting to know her sisters. Baela was enamoured with Visenya from the start, following the girl's every step, mimicking her posture and stature. The girl reminded her of her father, something that brought Baela's desire to be closer to Visenya, her step sister a protective and powerful figure under her gaze.

Rhaena, Visenya found was more gentle, more soft spoken than that of her twin. Rhaena liked to watch Visenya and Baela train, soft claps and smiles for the victor. Visenya enjoyed Rhaena's quietness, finding a comfort in the silence that clung to the girl - the two often found with Rhaena reading quietly whilst Visenya laid back, a dagger or something other twirling between her fingers. 

Visenya's gaze traveled back to where Lucinda stood, watching the two sisters with an interest in her gaze. Visenya lightly blushed under the gaze, something Baela found of the utmost amusement. 

"The lady Lucinda is actually quite kind." Baela admits.

Visenya's gaze darts to her, suspicion in her eye. "You've spoken to her?"

"Yes." Baela nods, "Myself and Rhaena approached her with the desire of a hair braiding session. Her curls are quite magnificent."

Now that Baela says it, Visenya can see the new braids that pull at the wild curls of Lucinda's head, braids that Visenya herself had pained herself over learning for months, fingers growing numb with the amount of twisting and pulling that it took.

"She is not the traitor you make her out to be." Baela says, softly. "And her loyalty is something that could be of importance to you."

Visenya sighs, gaze shifting to the younger girl. A moment of silence panning between the two, Visenya sighing out a breath audibly, eyes soft as she gently pushed Baela in the direction of the castle.

"Go get cleaned up." She says. "I'll come and braid your hair for you later."

"Only if you let me do yours." Baela grins.

"Go." Visenya watches her go with a soft smile, Baela's giggles echoing into her ears. As the girl disappears towards the castle, Visenya's gaze shifts back to where Lucinda stands. The girl is already watching her, forest gaze deep and shining with the light of the sun. Visenya lightly clenches her palm around her hilt, taking a deep breath before she sauntered to where the lady stood.

"Princess." Lucinda greets her.

"My Lady." Visenya returns, looking towards the straw man embedded with dozens of arrows. "Imagining anyone particular there?"

Lucinda hums, following Visenya's gaze. "Someone who seems to endlessly frustrate me, no matter how hard I work."

"Ah." Visenya ducks her head, feeling Lucinda's gaze shift to her. 

"I can understand your caution, Princess." Lucinda breathes into the silence. "But I swear to you, I am loyal to you and yours. I seek not whatever it is you seem to think I do. I am here because it is an honour to personally serve the royal family."

"I know." Visenya says. "I apologise, My Lady."

"Lucinda." The Blackwood replies. "It is the name my mother chose for me, I should like it to be used."

"Lucinda." Visenya nods, smile threatening to break at the corners of her lips. "Then you must call me Visenya."

"That goes against all etiquette, Princess." Lucinda regards her with a glint in her eye, amusement barely concealed, and lips pursed against the smile pulling at them.

"Do I look like one for etiquette, Lucinda?" 

The two stare for a moment, until finally smiles break upon their lips, amusement too great to ignore.

"I suppose not." Lucinda smiles, bright and beautiful that it is. "Visenya."

Visenya nods to the straw man again. "Is archery a subject they teach all ladies in the River Lands?"

"About as common as sword lessons for a Princess." Lucinda laughs. "My brothers were the first to put a bow in my hand. My family's strife with the Brackens called a need for it."

Visenya hummed, Lucinda turning her gaze to the Princess.

"What of you? What made you first pick up a sword."

"My brothers too, in a way." Visenya admits. "King's Landing was... not a kind place to us growing up. I wanted to protect them, and it was the only way I could think of. It is my duty as their elder sister."

"That is very kind of you." Lucinda says, "I see the way you act with them." Visenya's gaze darts to her own, violet and forest green eyes locked together in an endless stare. "Reminds me of how my own brothers sought to protect me. It is all very... sweet."

Visenya blushes lightly, pink flush travelling from her cheeks to the tips of her ears. Lucinda finds it incredibly endearing, how prominent such a thing is against her pale skin. 

"I would... enjoy it." Visenya starts. "If you would show me how to wield a bow as you do. Perhaps we will be able to compare skills in the years of your service."

Lucinda stares for a moment, realisation sinking in as she registers the Princess's words. Visenya had just formally accepted Lucinda into her service. Lucinda smiles shyly, eyes raking over the Princess's lithe and strong figure, how her calloused hands fit perfectly over the handle of her blade.

"So long as you teach me how to wield a sword."

Visenya grins, mischievous and light. "I would like nothing more, My Lady."

....

Authors Note.

Not Proof Read!

Motivation has hit me like a truck. Hope you all enjoyed this rewritten version of Visenya and Lucinda's first meeting.

That's it for now.

Later's Alligators.