"You are the bane of my existence and the object of all my desires."
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The tale of the Prince Aegon Targaryen and his marriage to Princess Valeria Martell.
Aegon Targaryen FF
HOTD
18+
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It was the third day of her wretched marriage to Aegon Targaryen—and Valeria was certain that the white-walkers beyond the Wall would have been more welcoming than the people of the Capitol.
Every time she left her room, without fail, she received looks as though she had personally offended every person she walked by with just her presence alone. She was Dornish, and she expected this sort of reaction, but expectation and reality were vastly different. It wasn't even a month ago that the Crown and Dorne were at war, and she did not expect them to forget. For she still hadn't either.
They were all wary of the Dornish Princess now walking within their halls, and she of them. And her husband provided no comfort to sate her unease.
Quite literally, she had not seen Aegon since their wedding night, not even a glimpse of him. Instead she had been given solitude and the comforts of the presence of her sworn guard, Ser Desmond Osgrey of Standfast, and her handmaiden, Selene.
Ser Desmond was the third son of Lord Garth Osgrey and was a man of three-and-twenty. He served with the goldcloaks for a time as well as fought in the Stepstones for his King as expected of him. He had experience in the art of actual combat, but that was not why Valeria had chosen him. When having to choose a sworn guard for herself, she chose the one knight in the line-up who wasn't actively glaring or sneering at her.
He was a giant of a man, standing at six feet and six inches, built of pure, lean muscle and broad shoulders. His skin was the color of the sweet caramel in the treats she liked as a child, with a shaven head and eyes as blue as the crystal waters of the Summer Sea. He had a rather serious expression on his face at all times, but he also had a soothing voice that only raised when speaking to other men, never to a woman.
Her hand-maiden, Selene, was actually an interesting thing. She was a daughter of one of the dragon-keepers who, ironically enough, had a great fear for the magnificent beasts her family handled. She had three claw marks across her left cheek, and where she got it from Valeria did not know, but she theorized that a baby dragon must have been involved. Nevertheless, her family found her all but useless in their eyes, and so she had been a servant inside the Red Keep until she had been assigned as a handmaiden to Valeria.
She had skin that was naturally tanned, much like Valeria's, and her raven-colored hair was kept short and above her shoulders. She had pretty hazel eyes and gaunt cheeks, short and skinny. And as far as Valeria knew, the girl could not have been older than five-and-ten.
With Ser Desmond and Selene at her side, Valeria had some semblance of company that she did not mind. It was a perfect balance between solitude from her captors and company to keep her sane.
As long as she was left alone in this wretched castle, she could survive this nightmare...only, she wasn't left alone forever.
When Valeria awoke on this fine morning, her day had started off as normally as she expected. Her morning routine was simple. Selene would wake her, bring her breakfast, dress her and brush her hair, and then sit with Valeria until commanded otherwise. She was forced to wear the ever-so modest dresses that the women of the Capital wore, which felt stifling and suffocating compared to her dresses she wore back at home.
