Written In Starlight - Arthur Dayne

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Dear Ned, 

     My last letter to you was terribly abrupt, and I know the ones before that were hardly interesting. Dragonstone has an odd effect on those who dwell here; perhaps only the dragons of old were immune to its strangeness. It is as if time froze, and I am doomed to walk through each day the same as before, without a moment truly passing. I have no better way to describe it, only that I felt stuck in a state I never wish to return to. I watched the weather change from inside the safety of the keep, and yet I felt as though I was stuck in time, watching the world move on without me. I wondered if I would blink and the world I knew would be gone, fading to dust while I watched, unaware. 

     But so much has changed in so little time; all that time that passed is finally catching up to me. I can scarcely hold on, Ned. 

     I do not know if word has reached the North, and I pray that if this is the first you hear of what I say, do not share it with anyone. I share this with you only because I hold the utmost trust in you and your word, but I beg that you keep the contents of this letter between us, keeping it even from your family until it is announced by more official bodies. 

     Some days ago, Princess Elia Martell birthed her first child, a daughter of black hair and her fathers purple eyes. She was named Princess Rhaenys Targaryen by her father, while I did wish to protest the name I knew it would be no use. Though I must question why the Prince would choose a name with such history for a babe of Dornish blood. 

     You know your history well, Ned. Rhaenys Targaryen (the first of many) burned cities and villages in Dorne without question, all in an attempt to force them to kneel to her invader husband. I do not think Prince Rhaegar did so intentionally, but perhaps that makes it worse—to so thoughtlessly decide on a name for his child without a thought for his wife and her family. 

     But despite it all, she is perhaps the most beautiful baby I have ever laid my eyes upon. I was present at her birth, and out of respect for the Princess, I do not share what occurred, but I shall say it was a sight, Ned—a bloody, bloody sight. And yet, when Rhaenys was born, it all seemed...worth it.

     It gave me cause to dwell on my own future, which will most certainly see me in the birthing bed of the Gods are willing. I am awash with conflict, Ned. I cannot deny that it terrified me, I have heard stories and now seen how quickly things can go awry when bringing a new life into the world. Yet that sight of Princess Elia and her child, I saw it and wanted it for myself. That love, so deep and pure, it will never leave me and I admit that I would like to have that opportunity for myself, Ned, and I can only pray that I will be blessed like the Princess has been.

     I believe that this new princess, the first of a new generation, shall usher in a new age for the people of Westeros. No, she may not be queen, but she will be special nonetheless. How could she be anything but with such blood?

     We will remain in Dragonstone for a time until Princess Elia is well enough to travel, then we will return to the capital, and Rhaenys will be presented before the court. I do not know how long we shall remain, but I will be glad to be gone from this place; it is strange, and I do not fit here the way I thought I might. I never thought I would say this but I will be glad to be back in King's Landing. While it is by no means a peaceful place, it will at the least be free of the imprints of all that happened here. I do not think I can stay in Dragonstone without being reminded of all that occurred in this place, both good and bad.

     There are some things I wish to speak with you about, Ned, but I dare not put them down for anyone but you to read. I have grown more paranoid since I left the north, and I wish I could say it was unfounded, and that which I desire to share with you is not for the faint-hearted. Next, I see you, Ned, we will speak, and I will divulge to you all that has occurred in this wretched place; I only hope that it is sooner rather than later.