THE SUN IN KING'S LANDING
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121 AC, Sunspear
During the next year, Valyria would split her time between the Red Keep and Sunspear. At times, it was a tiresome task but she believed it to be worth it. Her primary duties might be as the Princess of Dorne, but she could never neglect the role she played as a Targaryen. Especially now when Alicent was carrying her and Viserys fourth child.
Aegon, Helaena and Aemond would get another brother or sister within a few moons.
A babe that only would be a few moons older than their nephew, Lucerys Velaryon. The news of the newborn Velaryon spread like wildfire across the realm. As did the growing rumours concerning his dark hair.
News also travelled across the Narrow Sea about how Laena had given birth to twin girls, Rhaena and Baela Targaryen. No matter the way Daemon and Valyria left things, she still sent a letter to Laena – through Rhaenys – congratulating her.
More than two years had passed since Cassian's birth – almost three – but Valyria had yet to become with child again. It didn't concern her yet but she did wish for another son or daughter. Qoren hadn't expressed any frustration about the lack of more children but she knew he also longed for another son or daughter.
"Raise your swordarm," Qoren instructed as he held onto a wooden sword. Elara didn't do as she was told, instead she used her own wooden sword to smack him across the legs, making her step-father wince in pain.
Cyrenna covered her mouth to suppress a giggle while Valyria didn't bother hiding her snort. Neither did Serra who almost choked on her wine. Another thing that changed over the past year was how Cecily unfortunately had to leave Valyria's service. A part of princesses and queens responsibilities when taking on ladies-in-waiting was to find suitable matches for them.
Valyria would never have forced Cecily nor Serra into a marriage they didn't want. Serra always expressed her distaste for the possibility of being tied down to a man for the rest of her life but Cecily wished for a family of her own. The selfish part of Valyria never wished to let her best friend go but she truly wanted what was best for her.
Therefore, she searched for the best possible husband for Cecily. One that fit the requirements she put forward. At times, Valyria forgot Cecily was a Lannister since she lacked the blind arrogance possessed by many of her relatives. Ambition, however, was a trait no one could deny her sharing with many other lions.
Cecily wished for a husband that could provide her with comfort and position. The golden haired woman never believed in stories of fair maidens falling in love with valiant knights; practicality meant more to her than the prospect of a husband that adored her. Of course, Valyria did her best to find a kind man either way.
In the end, Loran Tyrell was chosen.
House Tyrell, while not as old as many of the other Great Houses since they had been mere stewards a century ago, was a rich house that controlled the most fertile lands in Westeros. Loran was a kind and charming man that made Cecily the new Lady of Highgarden.
"I said raise your swordarm!" Qoren scolded her.
"You also told me to rely on my strengths," Elara reminded him innocently.
"Right, it's my fault that I forgot that I had such a short opponent," Qoren said with a roll of his eyes.
"I'm not short," Elara said with a deep frown. "I'm tall for my age. Right, mūna?"
"I have no part in this," Valyria said, not bothering to hide her amused smirk.
"Mūna?"
Valyria's attention turned to Cassian who sat in his older sister's lap, watching his father and uncle give his other sister sword lessons. Much like Valyria observed the moment he was born, Cassian was slowly growing into the spitting image of his father with dark hair and copper skin. The only feature he had inherited from her were his orchid coloured eyes.
Holding out his arms for her as a signal that he wanted her to pick him up, Valyria obliged. She placed the little prince on her lap as Lewyn took over the sword lesson. Dramatically, Qoren limped over to where they were seated beneath a pavilion that protected them from the harsh sun.
"How the mighty have fallen," she said sarcastically.
"Your daughter is vicious," Qoren complained, plopping down beside her. "I hope you know that you are my favourite, Cyrenna," he added jokingly.
"Oh, I know," Cyrenna smiled sweetly.
Close to reaching their one-and-tenth nameday, the twins were still nearly identical. Their hair remained a golden colour they shared with their late father and their eyes the same shade of purple that Valyria and Cassian had. Viserys often claimed they took after Valyria the most, sharing the same soft features she had in her youth.
Countless times Elara and Cyrenna endured being mistaken for the other – and a few times they tricked people on purpose. Valyria never mixed them up with each other and could never be fooled but on a few occasions they did manage to deceive everyone else in their family.
Although, despite their shared facial features the twins were truly two individuals. Sometimes they moved like a unit and no one could deny that they were close but as the years passed by, they found their own way.
Elara had developed a stubbornness that could rival her mother's. Her manners and poise could impress even the most strict septa when she wanted to but the younger twin had a rebellious side as well. Ever since the first time she rode the Cannibal, Elara fell in love with dragon-riding and at times they could barely get her feet back to the ground.
Cyrenna was without a doubt the calmest and even more well-mannered than her sister. Whereas Elara enjoyed learning hand-to-hand combat, Cyrenna preferred archery when picking a weapon. Fair-spoken and wise beyond her years, it was no wonder why Vermithor bonded with the older Lannister twin when she greatly resembled his latest rider.
"Have you given more thought to Viserys's invitation?" Valyria asked her husband as he leaned back with a goblet of wine in his hand.
Qoren took a sip of wine, "A little."
"Aaand?" Valyria turned fully to her husband.
"No Prince of Dorne has ever visited King's Landing before," Qoren pointed out.
"No Prince of Dorne has married a Targaryen Princess before," Valyria retorted. "This entire marriage is a symbol of the union between Dorne and the remaining of the Seven Kingdoms. The dornish see me every day but sometimes I think the courtiers believe I made you up. Us visiting court – together – would be seen as good faith between our kingdoms."
"Why can't Viserys Targaryen visit us then?" Qoren grumbled, not keen on the idea of visiting the dragon's den. He did very much for his wife – but not that.
"He has not been feeling well lately," Valyria said. "And travelling over the sea would only make things worse."
"And what should I do once I arrive?" Qoren asked. "Bow before the Iron Throne? Bend the knee?
If I don't, everyone will think I'm insulting their King and if I do, it will have a much greater meaning than showing respect."
"I will ask Viserys not to greet us in the throne room in front of the entire court," Valyria offered. "I want our son to know that while he is the future Prince of Dorne, he is a Targaryen as well."
.•° ✿ °•.
121 AC, King's Landing
"I am not enjoying this," Qoren grumbled as they stood on the deck of the ship that had taken them from Sunspear to King's Landing. A crowd had gathered, having seen the foreign ship carrying the sun and spear of House Martell as it sailed into the bay.
"I know, but I am happy you are doing it anyway," Valyria told him, sending him a grateful smile. She shifted Cassian from one side to the other. Behind them, Serra walked with the twins. "Just stay close to my side. No one would dare to attempt to kill you if they risked harming me in the process."
"How reassuring," Qoren muttered dryly, nose wrinkling. "What is that smell?"
"Flea Bottom, most likely," Valyria informed him. "I almost managed to convince Viserys to use the royal treasury to clean up and equip the city with a better solution for plumbing."
"What happened?" Qoren asked.
"The heir's wedding required more funding. Even though the weeklong celebration was cancelled, it cost a lot," Valyria shrugged, preparing to go ashore. "Try to not look like that," she smiled slightly. "I don't want anyone to think you are some scornful, foreign prince."
Qoren plastered on a charming smile instead, "Is this better?"
"You don't have to smile from ear to ear, you should just avoid scowling," Valyria rolled her eyes and turned her attention towards Cassian who played with Valyria's braid. "Your father is being difficult." Cassian giggled, causing a smile to spread across her face.
When it was time to go ashore, Valyria and Qoren walked side by side over to where Ser Harrold Westerling awaited them alongside Lyonel Strong and a dozen gold cloaks. "Prince Qoren, Princess Valyria, we welcome you to King's Landing."
"Thank you, Lord Strong," Valyria smiled. "We are very happy to be here – both of us." Meanwhile Qoren smiled courteously, but said nothing. Not seeing any reason to stand in the middle of the street longer than necessary, she said, "Should we make our way to the Keep? I do not wish to keep the King waiting."
Serra and the twins were ushered into a carriage. Valyria handed over Cassian to Serra and opted to ride alongside her husband instead. Mounting her horse, she sent a reassuring look over to her husband as they rode up towards the castle. The smallfolk were gathered to catch a glimpse of their beloved princess and her mysterious husband.
Ser Harrold rode close to Valyria, ready to protect her from a potential attack. The captain of their household guards were behind Qoren while the dornish guards they had brought rode behind the rest of the party. Some watched the dornishmen with curiosity and others with something akin to distaste.
The party rode into the courtyard where Valyria dismounted before her husband had the opportunity to assist her down. "This is where you grew up," Qoren noted, staring up at the red castle.
"Here and Dragonstone," Valyria nodded. "You will have to visit that too one day."
"One step at a time," Qoren told her. "They really adore you," he added.
"Who?" Valyria frowned in confusion.
"Everyone. The smallfolk," Qoren clarified. "Not even the dornish are that excited to see me."
Valyria looked down, a bashful smile on her beautiful face, "It's nothing impressive. If you show kindness, they return the favour."
"Lyria!"
Prince Aegon came sprinting into the courtyard, a wide smile on his face. The seven summers old prince didn't care for any formalities as he jumped up to hug Valyria who waited with open arms. The way his excitement to see her never dimmed for a second never failed to bring her joy.
"I missed you, Egg," Valyria told him. Seeing Ser Arryk Cargyll coming into view, appearing a bit breathless, she ruffled the prince's silver hair, "You should not give your poor Kingsguard such a fright." She rounded him to stand behind Aegon and placed her hands on his shoulders, "Aegon, may I introduce you to my husband, Prince Qoren. Qoren, meet Prince Aegon Targaryen."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Prince Aegon," Qoren greeted him.
"You took Lyria away from us," Aegon narrowed his purple eyes at him. "Cyrenna and Elara too."
"And I think Elara and Cyrenna are waiting for you to welcome them too," Valyria told him, seeing her daughters step down from the carriage. Aegon did what he was told. He seemed to remember some of his princely manners when he greeted the young ladies who both truly missed their second-cousin.
"What a lovely boy," Qoren muttered dryly. "I didn't take you away."
"In a way, you did," Valyria pointed out. Not having more to say about that, she took Cassian from Serra and they made their way towards Maegor's Holdfast. Several courtiers and servants alike stopped in their tracks; in King's Landing a dornishman was more rare than a dragon. To his credit, Qoren sauntered beside her with confidence, not the slightest affected by their gazes.
"The King is awaiting you in the Queen's Ballroom," Lord Strong explained. It was a compromise they had agreed upon. Normally, guests would be greeted inside the throne room but a term of their visit was that her husband wouldn't have to kneel in front of the Iron Throne.
"Do you want me to hold him?" Qoren wondered, referring to Cassian. Guessing that it offered him some comfort, Valyria gave him their son just before the doors opened and they entered the Queen's Ballroom. A graceful ballroom that probably could seat one hundred guests. Its walls were panelled with richly carved wood and had a gallery above the main floor and high arched windows.
Inside, the royal family awaited them. Abiding protocol, Valyria curtsied in front of the King, "Your Grace," she said, taking note of how he seemed to age years for every moon that passed. Ignoring that for the moment, she plastered on a smile and kissed both his cheeks.
"Valyria, I am so glad you accepted my invitation," he told her sincerely, taking one of her hands. Then he looked over her shoulder, "Prince Qoren, I welcome you to the Red Keep. It's a pleasure to finally meet you in person."
"Likewise, Your Grace," Qoren said cordially.
"And this must be Prince Cassian," Viserys said, "he has his mother's eyes." The young prince shyly met the King of the Seven Kingdoms gaze and offered a small wave. Leaving Qoren to speak with Viserys, she moved down the line to the Queen.
"Queen Alicent," Valyria kissed both her cheeks in greeting, mindful to avoid the Queen's belly. By now, it looked like the Hightower woman was due to give birth any day.
"Princess Valyria," Alicent said, "it's good to have you back. I see that Aegon already has welcomed you," she glared at her eldest son who still stood by the twins that were now hugging Viserys.
"It was highly appreciated," Valyria said, not wishing for Aegon to get in trouble for childish excitement. Helaena stood close to her mother's side, "You grow more pretty for every passing day, darling," she told the youngest princess.
"Red roses will take over the garden," Helaena muttered under her breath, making Valyria frown in confusion.
"What did you say, darling?" Valyria asked gently.
"It was probably nothing," Alicent said dismissively, placing a hand on her daughter's shoulder. Valyria decided to not push on it. Instead she turned to the wetnurse behind the Queen that held Prince Aemond.
"Hello, dear," she smiled at the boy, who shyly ducked his head.
Next came Rhaenyra and Laenor who stood a few metres away from her father, step-mother and half-siblings. "Nyra," Valyria said, greeting her warmly. "You look well."
"Thank you," Rhaenyra responded. "So do you." Her focus then seemed to shift to someone behind Valyria, "You must be Qoren Martell."
"Princess Rhaenyra," Qoren greeted her. "Ser Laenor." He then looked down at the babe in Rhaenyra's arms as well as the little boy standing in front of Ser Laenor. "And these little ones must be Jacaerys and Lucerys. They look just like I imagined."
.•° ✿ °•.
"Should I assume that your unusually high-spirited attitude this evening has something to do with our departure to Sunspear tomorrow?" Valyria asked her husband.
"This place is not as bad as I imagined. But it is not very pleasant either," Qoren told her honestly, leaning against the vanity she was seated in front of. Only instead of preparing herself for the feast that evening – she was already garbed in a beautiful red dress – she was looking over some letters. "Isn't the feast in our honour about to start?"
"It is," Valyria nodded, eyes scanning over Rhaenys words. "If you are in a rush, you may go to the Great Hall without me. If you are brave enough to face the vultures on your own."
Qoren scoffed, "It's not about bravery. Why would I suffer for longer than I have to?"
Rolling her eyes, Valyria picked up another letter bearing the seal of the snarling direwolf. Breaking the seal, she scanned over the letter, a deep frown appearing. "What is it?" Qoren wondered.
"My cousin, Rickon Stark – he has passed away," Valyria explained, her voice taking on a quiet note.
"I'm sorry for your loss," Qoren said, moving closer to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I have not heard you speak of him much."
"I stayed with him for a little over a year, after Lucian died," Valyria said. "He is-was my mother's nephew." Putting down the letter on the vanity table, Valyria forced a smile, "We should leave for the feast now."
"Are you certain?" Qoren asked worriedly. "I am certain no one would mind-"
"Everyone would mind," Valyria told him. "And the sooner we arrive, sooner we can leave."
Qoren did not look convinced, but did not argue. Instead he linked his arm with hers and the two walked down to the Great Hall. Hundreds of eyes turned to them as they were announced, "Entering, Qoren of House Martell, Prince of Dorne and Lord of Sunspear, and his wife, Princess Valyria Targaryen."
When they were seated on the high table, Viserys joked, "You were finally allowed your entrance. Is it what you imagined?"
"Once more I had to share it," Valyria pouted in faux sadness, easily covering up that she was silently grieving her cousin's death. As the dinner went on, Qoren's focus was fully on Valyria. During feasts in Dorne, his attention was divided between everyone that sought him out; here, he didn't care for anyone but her now when the children were in bed.
"Is this anything like the feasts you host in Sunspear, Prince Qoren?" Laenor wondered, making conversation.
"Yes and no," Qoren took a sip of wine. "We have food, music and dances too. Although, it's all different from this. And the wine is better in Dorne."
"Don't say that close to the Redwynes, it will start a fight," Valyria said. "Dorne is lovely in its own way, even though it's different from King's Landing."
"And King's Landing cannot be too horrible since it is where my lovely wife grew up," Qoren smiled charmingly. Taking her hand, he pressed a kiss against her knuckles. Out of her peripheral vision, Valyria noticed Rhaenyra looked at their joint hands with an unreadable expression.
However, Valyria didn't get much time to think about that when she heard Alicent's chair scrape backwards as she got to her feet. Muttering an excuse that she was tired to the King she walked down from the dais with slow steps. A poorly hidden grimace combined with the way Alicent seemed to be supporting her belly more than usual alerted Valyria to the fact that something was wrong.
"Try to not cause any trouble, husband," Valyria told Qoren, kissing his cheek, "I have to make sure the Queen is well." Then she discreetly stood up and followed Alicent through the king's private door behind the Iron Throne.
Since Valyria had the advantage of speed, she quickly caught up to the Queen who walked slowly, Ser Criston Cole following behind her. "Alicent," Valyria called, picking up her pace even more.
The auburn haired woman slowly turned, "Valyria, why are you not at the feast."
"You seemed to feel unwell," Valyria said, "I just wanted to make sure nothing was wrong."
"Oh, it's simply the babe," Alicent explained, her smile strained.
"Allow me to help you," Valyria said, linking her arm with Alicent to support her. She completely ignored Ser Criston's presence and started assisting the Queen to Maegor's Holdfast. They had just crossed the drawbridge when Alicent gasped, a hand flying to her belly.
"Alicent?" Valyria said with concern. Her eyes unintentionally turned down to the ground where a small puddle formed by Alicent's feet. "Oh, Ser Criston, call for the Maester. The Queen is about to give birth." When the Kingsguard didn't move, appearing to be in shock, she raised her voice, "Now!"
"Come on, we only have a little longer to walk," Valyria's voice took a much calmer tone as she addressed the pregnant woman. "Just lean on me and breathe."
"I can't," Alicent shook her head, her breathing growing heavier.
"You can," Valyria said surely. "We will take it as slow as you need to. One step at a time." Together they managed to climb the stairs and reach the Queen's bedchambers by the time the Maester and midwives arrived.
When she was asked to leave, Valyria was about to do it before Alicent grasped her wrist tightly, "Stay, please. I don't want to do it alone."
"As you wish," Valyria said. She wasn't about to leave if her presence would soothe Alicent. While Valyria herself preferred having as few people possible around her when she gave birth, everyone was different.
So she stayed.
Alicent held tightly onto her hand for what felt like eternity. Her screams echoed across Maegor's Holdfast until the sun rose again with a new day. When a different cry finally rang through the room, Valyria sighed in relief that it was over. Somehow, she almost preferred giving birth to witnessing it like this.
"It's a boy, Your Grace!" one of the midwives announced. "Another son for the King."
"Congratulations," Valyria told the exhausted woman, using the rag she had been given to wipe some sweat away from her forehead. "You did very well."
"Thank you," Alicent said tiredly. "And thank you for staying."
"It was an honour," Valyria assured him. When Alicent finally released her hand, she flexed her fingers, hoping for the blood flow to return.
When the babe was washed and swaddled into a blanket, he was brought over to his mother. "Valyria," Alicent asked, "could you take him? My arms feel too shaky at the moment, I am afraid I will drop him."
"Of course, if you want me to," Valyria took the babe from the midwife, a large grin spreading across her lips as she looked down at the little princeling. "Hello, little one," she cooed, angling the babe so that Alicent could look at him. "Do you have a name?"
"It's the King's choice," Alicent told her just as the door opened and one of Alicent's ladies-in-waiting entered and curtsied.
"Your Grace, the King has just woken up and is breaking his fast in the Queen's Ballroom," she informed. "He wishes to know how the birth is fairing."
Valyria had barely realised how much time that passed. Alicent's labours lasted all night and she was now rightfully exhausted. "Valyria, I understand if you are tired and wish to sleep, but I'd be very grateful if you presented him to the King. I would myself, but I want the Septon to lay his blessings and purify me before I see anyone."
"Of course," Valyria said, remembering how Alicent had refused to leave her chambers during the previous births as well before undergoing some form of ritual purification. The Light of the Seven considered childbirth to be something impure. After giving birth mothers were in a state of uncleanness until they had been blessed by a septon.
Targaryens rarely bothered themselves with such traditions – neither her nor Rhaenyra underwent any form of cleansing after giving birth. While she didn't relate to Alicent's religious beliefs, Valyria did not judge her for them either.
Valyria threw a look at herself through the mirror, making sure that she was somewhat presentable. Deciding that the dark rings under her eyes and few strands of hair that released from her braid wasn't enough to make her completely unrepresentable, she gently rocked the babe in her arms as she carried him out of the Queen's chambers.
The babe was much calmer than both Aegon and Aemond, although not as peaceful as Helaena had been as a newborn. Outside the Queen's Ballroom, Ser Erryk and Ser Arryk stood guard. They pushed the double-doors opened for her. Everyone's attention turned to her and the King's face lit up at the sight of the bundle in her arms.
One thing Valyria noted over the years was how Viserys' interest in the children he had with his second wife seemed to fade. During Aegon's first three years, he was very attentive of the young boy but during the past few years Valyria could count the amount of times she had seen Viserys hold or pay attention to his eldest son on one hand. It was the same with Helaena and Aemond. He was joyous at first sight and as time passed that faded into disinterest.
Following that pattern, Viserys pushed himself to his feet as Valyria said, "Your Grace, may I introduce your new son."
"Another boy," Viserys said. In spite of his cheerfulness, there was sadness in his eyes. For more than a decade he had prayed for a son with Aemma – that goal caused him the love of his life. Now he had three sons but had lost half of himself in the process.
"Congratulations, father," Rhaenyra said, a bitter undertone in her voice.
"May I?" Viserys wondered.
"It's your son," Valyria reminded him, gently handing over the bundle. The little boy's wide eyes stared up at his father as Viserys sat down again. The twins and Aegon crowded around the King to get a good look on the babe.
"You abandoned me," Qoren pouted playfully, wrapping an arm around her waist.
"I sincerely apologise," Valyria told him, kissing his cheek. She actually did feel guilty for leaving him to fend for himself at the feast.
"I shall accept your apologies, because you look like you are about to fall asleep standing," Qoren said. "Have you been awake all night?"
Valyria nodded and their conversation was interrupted by Elara asking, "What's his name?" She looked over at her mother.
"That is for the King to decide," she told her daughter. "Although, if I am allowed an opinion, we do not need another prince with a name starting with 'A'."
"Your opinion is always valued, Lyria," Viserys told her. Then he turned to the twins, "What do you two think?"
"Jaehaerys, after the Old King?" Cyrenna suggested. "Although, it does sound a bit like Jacaerys."
"Or maybe Daeron, after grandfather," Elara said, looking over at her mother. Viserys also looked over at Valyria, as if asking for her permission to use her father's name.
For a few seconds when Cassian was born, she had considered naming her son after her deceased father but it simply didn't feel right at the moment. Anyone would be lucky to have Daeron Targaryen as a namesake and if Viserys wished to name a son after his uncle, she would not stop him.
"The choice is yours, Viserys," she said, leaning over to take a grape from a plate on the table. "I am sure my father would have been honoured."
"It's decided then," Viserys announced. "He shall be named Prince Daeron."