THE UNBURNT
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130 AC, Sunspear
It took Valyria some time to regain her full strength after giving birth to little Viserys. Once she could finally move around freely again she wasted no time returning to her duties. Cassian, now ten-and-two, shadowed her or Lewyn more of and in only a few years he'd manage to officially take over the duties as the ruling Prince of Dorne.
However, it was never too early to build bridges and create alliances. The Water Gardens, Valyria had realised, was the perfect way for her children to play with the future lords and ladies of Dorne; at the same time it gave them an insight into the lives of the smallfolk's children who also were allowed to play in the pools. As Cassian grew older, it also became important for him to be around the current rulers of the major houses in Dorne, not just the future ones.
Therefore, Valyria – and sometimes Lewyn – often took him with them when visiting other castles or when they held court. Their latest trip together was a feast in celebration of Lord Uller's fiftieth nameday. Luckily the trip to Hellholt, located in the middle of the dornish desert, was much easier when riding a dragon.
Since nobles from all over Dorne made the difficult journey to Hellholt, the feast became a good way for all of them to see Cassian as their future Prince. It also forced Cassian to socialise with dornish noble ladies which Valyria viewed as an opportunity for him to one day – hopefully – find a lady that brought a good alliance.
As Prince of Dorne he'd one day want to marry for an alliance. Valyria truly wished her children would be spared from such fate but considering the Targaryen blood running through their veins they couldn't risk anything. During her visits to King's Landing, several houses offered their daughters' hands in marriage for the dornish prince because despite the common distaste for the southernmost kingdom their daughter would become a princess. But Valyria knew from the moment Cassian was born that he one day would have to marry a dornish lady.
Valyria never openly mentioned to Cassian that he should look for a future wife. She hoped it would be more real if he simply thought he was making smalltalk. That way, he could find someone likeable – someone whose company he'd enjoy – and when they grew a bit older, the prospect of a marriage could be brought up.
Throughout the feast, Cassian spoke with several young nobles – both possible friends and betroths – and Valyria couldn't be more proud of him. The way he acted reminded her so much of Qoren. Nearly everyone in Dorne loved her late husband. His charm was undeniable and somehow he seemed to make friends with everyone he met. Cassian definitely inherited that from his father because even at the edge of twelve, he could easily converse with Lord Uller and the other older lords who were old enough to be his grandfather.
Valyria and Cassian raced back home to Sunspear; naturally Valyria won since Ānogara's size gave the she-dragon an advantage. When they soared above the keep, Cyrion descended to land on the courtyard while Valyria continued to fly, intending to land outside the surrounding city. Cyrion was small enough to land on the courtyard without risking any structural damage to the keep.
Upon landing, Valyria slid down the wing and patted her dragon on the neck. When her rider was out of reach, Ānogara spread her wings again and flew away into the night to reunite with the other dragons. A bit away she found Lewyn waiting for her alongside six guardsmen. Over thirteen years later and he still stood there to greet her like he had the first time she visited Dorne.
"Brother," Valyria kissed his cheek in greeting. "You could have sent one of the guards with two horses."
"I could, but I can never pass up on an evening ride," Lewyn responded with a casual grin. "And the Princess of Dorne should always be given a proper welcome home." Then he led her over to the awaiting horses. Soon the two of them were riding towards the castle.
As they rode through the Shadow City, a loud scream rang through the air. Both Valyria and Lewyn instinctively pulled their horses to a halt, assuming it was a woman in distress. By the time they realised it was a trap, it was too late. Hooded figures emerged from the dark alleys surrounding the main road, swords and spears raised.
Out of her peripheral vision, Valyria saw a figure seated on the roof of a nearby home, holding a crossbow that pointed towards herself and Lewyn. Acting on impulse, Valyria threw herself off her horse and knocked Lewyn off his at the same time. They landed on the ground with a thud just as an arrow pierced the air previously occupied by their heads.
Quickly the two scrambled to their feet. Lewyn unsheathed his sword and threw his spear in Valyria's direction. His longsword was too heavy for her to use smoothly and even though a sword was her weapon of choice, Valyria had a better chance defending herself if she could lift her weapon properly.
Orchid eyes scanned the area surrounding them, hoping to get an estimate of how many attackers they faced. The city's labyrinth-like structure gave them a clear disadvantage since the dark and narrow alleys could cloak a dozen attackers. Valyria could not even think about how much this reminded her of the day she lost her second husband.
She counted six assailants on the ground which meant they outnumbered their attackers. Only one of their guardsmen was shot by an arrow coming from the sixth man hiding upon the roof. The hooded figure loaded another arrow into his crossbow, aiming it down against them and this time he hit one of their horses that released a shrill screech as it fell to the ground.
The men fought skillfully yet it seemed like the man holding the crossbow hadn't mastered the weapon. Mastered or not, though, Valyria realised the danger of allowing once enemy to obtain the high ground during a fight. Lewyn pushed her behind him, intending to protect her because even though she was armed, he didn't wish to risk her getting hurt.
Valyria took this opportunity to run. For any onlookers it might have looked like she was fleeing the scene when she in reality searched for a way to get up on the roof. Heavy breathing behind her alerted Valyria to the presence of a man behind her. Thus far, she'd given absolutely no indication of being capable of fighting so she hoped however chased her would fall for the easiest trick in the book.
Turning around a corner sharply, Valyria stopped in her tracks and held her breath, waiting for the man to catch up with her. Heavy steps got louder and when he turned around the corner Valyria only hesitated for the blink of an eye it took for her to make sure it wasn't one of her own men before plunging the spear into his neck, not taking the risk that he might wear a breastplate.
Choking on his own blood, the man fell to his knees, the spear still pierced in his neck. Foot against his chest, Valyria kicked him back while tugging the spear backwards, making blood spray out of the wound in his throat. However, Valyria could not waste any time thinking about that.
She continued the search for a way up on the roof and eventually realised there was a ladder leaning against the wall. Dropping her cloak on the ground – knowing it could hinder her ability to climb – Valyria climbed up the ladder as quickly and quietly as she could whilst holding a spear. When she neared the top she slowed down and peeked over the edge, making sure she didn't get attacked the moment she got up.
Not seeing anyone, Valyria climbed over the edge one leg at the time. Across the rooftop hung washing lines with greying sheets that probably had been drying in the sun all day. Slowly, she ducked under and zig-zagged between the sheets that both shielded her from the sight of the man with a crossbow and made it difficult for her to actually find the man.
Peeking between two sheets, Valyria spotted the man by the edge of the roof, leaning his crossbow against the edge. The distance between her and him – a space without anything for her to hide behind – was at least ten metres. Sneaking up on him would be risky. If she rushed forward, he'd likely hear her and have time to prepare before she reached him.
Another arrow shot through the air, down to the ground below. Valyria realised she didn't have time to consider her options. One thing Cassian taught her during their training sessions was to throw a spear at a target. Valyria could not claim to be particularly good at it – at least not from a long distance – but it was unfortunately the best option.
Raising her arm with the spare, Valyria gathered the courage and then acted on instinct. The moment she stepped out into view, Valyria threw the spare with all the force she had and it pierced through the air. Not being overly confident, she opted for aiming at his back since it provided a wider target and luckily the spear lodged itself into the man's shoulder.
A scream rang through the air as the crossbow fell out of his grasp and down on the ground below. When he was momentarily distracted, Valyria ran forward with a dagger she always wore in her belt. The beast of a man somehow stood up despite the spear lodged into his shoulder. In the process of standing up, however, he managed to knock down his sword as well.
Due to the man's slightly crouched Valyria couldn't act quickly enough to stab her dagger through the man's throat – an instant death. Instead she aimed for his heart only to meet resistance. A hand collided with her cheek, sending her stumbling backwards but she managed to remain on her feet. Quickly considering her options, Valyria realised that she wouldn't win this fight in hand to hand combat when all she had was a dagger.
Quickly she retreated back to hide in-between the dry sheets. If she wanted to kill him, she needed to outsmart him. In the distance she heard the man grumble something in a foreign language – bastard Valyrian it sounded like – and judging by the clang against the ground she guessed he removed the spear.
Valyria tried to be as quiet as possible, listening to her attackers approach. All of her senses were on high alert and the smell of smoke entered her nostrils. An image of the torch next to the man with a crossbow flashed before her eyes.
Was he trying to smoke her out?
Focusing on the sound of his heavy steps instead, Valyria tried to constantly move in the opposite direction. Only it became more and more challenging as the crackling of the growing fire made it difficult to hear anything else. The flames spread quickly across the washing lines and Valyria suddenly found herself backed up into the middle of the inferno. Orange flames surrounded her and she could feel the heat licking against her skin. It didn't burn – it actually felt quite nice. Like a warm blanket protecting her from the rest of the world.
Large holes – the edges blackened – appeared in the greying fabrics and Valyria caught sight of her attacker swinging the torch wildly as he marched away from the flames. His intention was probably to set the entire roof on fire before climbing down himself.
Valyria quickly realised this was her opportunity. The man had no reason to think she'd be hiding in the flames, he was too busy moving away from them himself. With a newfound determination, she walked through the fire – occasionally brushing her hand against her arms when the fabric of her tunic caught fire.
Now the crackling of the fire worked to her advantage and before the man could even react Valyria jumped up and stabbed him through the back of the neck with her dagger. Then everything happened too fast. The strange man swung his torch in shock, grazing her forehead with the burning edge as he let out a muffled cry.
Valyria fell to the ground this time but luckily her opponent suffered a worse fate. With the dagger lodged into the back of his throat, he stumbled backwards, getting caught in the washing lines as he slowly choked to death.
Fire and Blood...
The princess breathed heavily, not the slightest bit affected by the smoke she inhaled. Her head pounded from the impact. Her skin remained unmarred by the flames, it was simply the torch colluding with her forehead that caused her pain. She stumbled to her feet and quickly stumbled away, intending to get away from the roof.
Just as she reached the location of the ladder, Lewyn's head appeared by the edge. Brown eyes widened at the sight of her. To his credit, he didn't ask any questions, he simply assisted her down to the ground where he wrapped her into a tight hug, hissing when his hand touched a part of her tunic that burned.
"Thank the Gods, you are alive," Lewyn breathed out in relief. Taking the simple cloak of his shoulders, he wrapped it around her in hopes of quenching any potential fires. It also hid the burned holes in her clothing.
"Who are they?" Valyria asked, not registering anything really. Now when the danger passed she entered a shocked state.
"Second Sons," Lewyn told her, still looking at her like he'd seen a ghost. "One of them had the broken sword emblem on his sword."
"Sellswords," Valyria muttered absentmindedly. "Someone hired them." These weren't simply robbers, outlaws or men displeased about a Targaryen ruling Dorne. Second Sons must have been hired by someone who clearly wanted to kill her and maybe Lewyn too.
Lewyn's hands hovered by her arms, prepared to catch her if she collapsed for some reason, as the two returned to the scene where they first had been attacked. Three of the attackers were already dead alongside four out of their men. The two surviving guards guarded two Essosi men who now had their hands tied behind their backs.
"We need to get you to the castle," Lewyn told her gently as she found her cold gaze directed towards their attackers. "There might be more of them."
"Make sure those two are brought back alive," Valyria said firmly. Slowly all the energy drained from her and she didn't have the time to start an interrogation in the middle of the streets. After that, Valyria didn't argue when Lewyn assisted her up on a horse that survived and the two rode back to the castle.
Once inside the safety of Sunspears walls, Lewyn sent out a few guards to assist the others with returning the prisoners and to patrol the city and search for more Second Sons that might be lurking around. With the hood of Lewyn's cloak pulled up to cover her face and bloodied clothes, Valyria grew increasingly more numb for some reason she couldn't explain.
"Increase the guards patrolling around our bedchambers," Valyria told Lewyn as he led her towards her chambers. "Especially the childrens-"
"I will handle it," Lewyn promised her. All her instincts screamed at her to go to the children but knowing how she likely looked, it would simply frightened them. "And I will call for the servants to prepare a bath for you."
"It's late, we shouldn't bother them-" Valyria began protesting.
"Val, you are covered in blood and soot," Lewyn told her gently and slowly. "You need to clean up." They stopped outside hers and Daemon's chambers, "Do you need me to-?"
"No, I will manage," Valyria forced a smile. "Thank you, Lewyn."
"I should probably be the one thanking you. If you hadn't killed the man on the roof, we'd all be dead now," Lewyn told her. Once he left, probably returning to investigate the attack, Valyria took a deep breath before entering her own chambers. The door closed and Valyria sagged against it, all her strength draining from her body. Her breathing grew laboured as she fought to hold back tears – even in the privacy of her own chambers.
Daemon didn't even know they would return today. Valyria and Cassian decided it was more pleasant riding during the night than morning and wanted to surprise the others with their return; so he was likely asleep. Her theory was proven wrong when she heard shuffling from the bed. Valyria had recently redecorated the apartments belonging to the Princess of Dorne, which had a curved design, so that the bed was placed behind the corner, hidden from the view of those entering and sitting on the balcony or seating area.
"Daemon?" Valyria asked, her voice coming out in a raspy whisper.
In seconds, she heard feet padding against the floor and soon Daemon rounded the corner. He stopped dead in his tracks. The shock of her early return was soon replaced by horror as he took in her appearance.
Seeing her husband was the last drop that caused the dam to break. Valyria let out a sob as she tried to take a step towards him only for her knees to give out beneath her. She would have crashed to the floor had Daemon not been moving towards her already, catching her into his arms.
At first, Daemon simply held her close, allowing Valyria to cry into his neck while hugging him for dear life. Memories of the day they were attacked in the sept entered her mind and it all became too much to handle. Valyria continued thinking about what would have happened if Cassian had decided to ride back with them.
She felt Daemon pull down the hood covering her silver hair, obscuring her face from view. Then he loosened his hold around her waist, pulling back far enough to get a look at her face while still holding her tightly against him.
"Who-"
"Second Sons laid waiting when we rode through the city," Valyria blurted out, voice still shaking.
"Second Sons?" Daemon practically growled.
"They must have laid in wait for days," Valyria concluded.
"Are you hurt?" Daemon asked, searching for injuries which proved difficult with all the blood splattered across her face and hair.
"He hit me..." Valyria trailed off, the scene of the torch's impact against her forehead repeating itself in her mind. "I should be burned-" A knock on the door interrupted her. "The bath," she mumbled.
"Enter!" Daemon barked, pulling her back into the safety of his arms. Valyria could feel the vibrations when he spoke against her head that rested against his chest. "Put it there and leave us!" Then he guided her out of view from the servants that brought in a metal tub and water to fill it up.
Once hidden, Daemon took of Lewyn's cloak, revealing her burned clothes underneath. The leather jack held together pretty well but large pieces of her tunic had been reduced to ashes, leaving holes.
Daemon's finger skimmed her skin underneath that should have been blistering with burn marks only to find it smooth underneath his fingers. "Unburned," he muttered under his breath.
Without another word he brought her into a deep kiss, moulding their lips together and not stopping until they both were in desperate need of air. Pulling away he rested his forehead against hers.
"You have blood on your face," Valyria told him.
"Worth it," Daemon told her. "Did any of the men survive?"
"Two are in the dungeons," Valyria explained and the change in Daemon's demeanour from gentle to a man ready to commit malicious acts was immediate. "Don't murder them until we have at least tried to find out who hired them."
"Don't worry," Daemon said darkly, "their deaths will take days."
"Princess Valyria," Nora called out. "Your bath is ready-"
"Leave, all of you!" Daemon ordered without bothering to turn around. Valyria gave him a disapproving glare and he added a petulant, "thank you."
The door closed with a thud, alerting them to the servants exit and Daemon gently guided Valyria to where the tub had been placed. Valyria caught sight of herself in a mirror and realised why Lewyn and Daemon both had been horrified to see her.
Stains of blood covered her burned riding tunic and her clothing, while still protecting her modesty, looked ready to fall off. Large parts of her silver hair had fallen out of the braid and was caked with crimson blood that also covered her face. On the spot the torch grazed her skin, the blood mixed with black soot.
"Should I be affronted that the man who goes on a murder spree at the slightest inconvenience is calmer than me now?" Valyria tried to joke as the two came to a stop.
"You are my priority now," Daemon told her, stroking her cheek gently. His rage was apparent by his clenched jaw and the deadly glint in his eyes. "I can murder everyone involved in this attack against my wife any other day."
She felt his fingers thread in her hair and she soon realised he intended to undo her braid. "Come here," he told her. A large ceramic bowl filled with water had been placed on a table by the tub.
Her soot and blood covered hands shook as she dipped them into the water, washing off the worst of it. Then she splashed some up on her face. The water slowly turned pink.
"Bend over," Daemon murmured and then he assisted her in washing off the worse grime. Satisfied with the result, he used the hold on her hair to slowly pull her up. He then began assisting her in taking off her clothes, one piece at the time until she stood naked in front of him.
The way his eyes intently raked up and down her body over and over again. He'd seen her naked enough times for Valyria not to cower under his gaze; it was also clear now that the most prominent emotion behind those amethyst orbs wasn't lust.
"You are not burned at all," Daemon finally breathed out in awe.
"Maybe the flames didn't touch me-"
"Lyria, your clothes were on fire," Daemon reminded her. "And if you were hit with a burning torch," his fingertips skimmed against the bruising skin on her forehead, "it should have left marks." After a moment of silence he asked, "Have you ever been burned."
Valyria tried to recollect any memory of her burning herself on a candle, torch, dragon fire or anything. Nothing came to mind. Seconds ticked away and Daemon took that as an answer on its own, "You truly are astounding."
He surprised her by easily picking her up and walking over to the tub, lowering her down into the warm water. Leaning against the side, he watched her closely, guilt flooding his expression.
Realising the cause of his sudden change in attitude, Valyria placed her hand over his, "You couldn't have done anything to stop this. There is no use in dwelling on the past."
"No," Daemon said. "Not when I can focus on tracking them all down and feeding their corpses to Caraxes."
.•° ✿ °•.
Their search for answers led to nothing but disappointment.
Second Sons were trained to not cower under pressure and the two men captured knew they'd die no matter what they said. In the end, Daemon had been given free reign to torture them as he wished and as expected the sellswords did not survive for long after that. Just long enough to suffer a painful and dragged out death.
Since the incident, Daemon essentially refused to leave her side. Day and night, he remained close by. The fact that he wasn't there when the Second Sons tried to kill her hit Daemon harder than he could ever admit. Luckily for him, Valyria found comfort in the presence of her husband - even though it became slightly annoying at times - and therefore she didn't complain much about spending more time with him.
The attack proved to Valyria that she was capable of protecting herself but also the significant risks she took every time she ventured outside the protection of the castle without a few guards. Flying alone was one thing, but on the ground she couldn't protect herself from numerous attackers.
Around two fortnights after the attack, Valyria sat across from her husband breaking her fast while reading through a few letters. Meanwhile, Daemon's gaze shifted between the book laid on the table and his wife. Concentrating on the High Valyrian words proved impossible when he constantly felt the urge to look at the woman in front of him.
"What is it?" Daemon wondered, noticing Valyria's light frown as she read the letter.
"Lord Corlys has been gravely wounded in battle," Valyria explained, "and they do not know if he will survive it. Apparently he's unconscious at the moment" The lack of a reaction from her husband didn't shock Valyria.
Daemon respected Corlys from their time fighting together in the Stepstones. The Lord of the Tides was probably one of the few men in Westeros Daemon held in a slightly high regard. But the amount of people he truly cared for did not include his former good-father.
"That is not all," Valyria continued once she finished Rhaenys letter. "Vaemond Velaryon is questioning who should be the next Lord of the Tides should Corlys pass away."
Daemon's interest in the letter's content suddenly grew, "Corlys's children are both dead. By law it should pass to his grandson, Lucerys Velaryon."
"Lord Vaemond has never bothered to hide his suspicions about Rhaenyra's boys," Valyria said, thinking back to Laena's funeral. "Salt courses through Velaryon blood. Ours runs thick. Ours runs true. And ours must never thin."
Daemon scoffed, "A foolish cunt. If he openly questions the princes' legitimacy his head will be adorning the walls of the Red Keep long before he can ever set foot on Driftmark again."
"Perhaps not," Valyria said, biting the inside of her cheek as she thought over her past visits to the capital. "Viserys is growing more and more ill for every passing day. It causes him enough pain to render him bedridden most days and all the milk of the poppy Mellos gives him clouds his mind. Alicent rules in his stead with the help of Otto. If Vaemond has any sense, he will take the case directly before the Queen. And considering Alicent and Rhaenyra's latest encounter at Driftmark, the odds are stacked in Vaemond's favour."
Standing up, Valyria crossed the room to fetch a quill, ink and parchment. On her way back to her chair, she passed her husband who took her momentarily closeness as an opportunity to gently grab ahold of her wrist, pulling her down to sit on his lap.
Valyria landed gracelessly across his thighs. Fixing her husband with a glare, Valyria said, "Do you mind?"
"Not at all," Daemon wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, holding her firmly in place. "Now, do you mind sharing what it is you are planning?"
Placing the quill, ink and parchment on the table in front of them, Valyria said, "Rhaenyra and Vaemond will both have to present their cases before the crown. Rhaenys asks that I come to King's Landing for their audience with the King — or Queen."
"To support Rhaenyra?" Daemon wondered, resting his chin against Valyria's shoulder as she dipped the quill in ink.
"Rhaenyra and I may not have seen eye to eye lately but I won't leave her and the boys to fend for herself," Valyria said firmly. "So I will go to King's Landing and I will make sure the Hightowers know their place and that Viserys is the one to judge who should sit upon the Driftwood Throne."
"Alone?" Daemon asked, a hint of bitterness in his tone. The thought of her leaving always bothered him but after the attack, it also concerned him immensely.
"No," Valyria decided. "For this I think we should show a united front. Twisting her upper body she placed her free arm around Daemon's neck, "I want you there with me."