Vaelerys smiled as she read the letter aloud to Loiya. Her brother had married Desmera Redwyne, in wake of the destruction of Stannis Baratheon's fleet. They expect Desmera to come with child very soon. An heir to Driftmark would soon take Vaelerys place and bring comfort to her brother.
"I should sew the babe a swaddle, don't you think Loiya?" Vaelerys's pearl white smile gleamed as she held the letter to her chest. She had always been the youngest of her siblings and her father had never let her congregate with the children of House Velaryon's servants. She had never had the pleasure of being around young. Even Loiya's were not permitted to be near Vaelerys.
"Oh, yes my princess! I used the same swaddle for all my children. By the end of its run, I swear it went from the shade of the Narrow Sea to as dark as Blackwater Bay." The red headed woman's smile faded as she reminisced on her children. She had seen them only weeks ago but she missed them terribly, as well as her husband back home at Driftmark.
Vaelerys frowned as she saw the turmoil in her handmaids eyes. The skirt of her dress swayed as she crossed the floor, soft pats of her leather sandals echoed off the stone walls. Her soft hand's held Loiya's saddened face in her palms. Loiya felt at ease at the princess's touch.
"I promise you, I will convince my brother to let your family come to Dorne to be with you. You do not deserve to be swayed from your life for my benefit."
The tender moment between Vaelerys and Loiya was interrupted by the opening of her chamber doors. A hesitant Samira and one of Prince Doran's guards entered.
"Princess, Prince Doran has asked for your presence on the terrace over looking the Water Gardens. I explained to Parek, that you desire not to see Prince Doran."
Samira had not lied. It had been three weeks since Doran proposed the dissolvement of her marriage and their union in its stead. Doran had shut himself in once more in shame, and Oberyn had been attached to her hip at the news.
After the affections of the night, Oberyn had went astray. As soon as his sisters name left his lips his mood shifted with the tides. His furnace like touch left her cold, and his smirk faded to a frown. As soon as the couple entered the walls of Sunspear, Oberyn left his lady wife without a trace. A guard had escorted her back to her chambers.
Vaelerys did not deny the heartache she felt, but she was neither surprised.
"It is Prince Doran's order, I shall go. Parek, have you seen my husband?"
The guard bowed his head as he spoke to the Lady of Sunspear.
"He was last seen leaving the city in the early hours of the morning, my Princess."
She hummed, her head high as her eyes stared at the floor.
"Well, we must not keep the Prince of Dorne in idle."
Vaelerys lead the way as Parek followed in pursuit of the princess. She hurried to the terrace despite her fears. The worry she held for Doran's fragile heart conquered any anxieties which plagued her. She wished to see if he was well.
The engraved mahogany revealed a frail sickly looking man hunched over a porcelain plate of roasted snake tail. His graying hair was knotted at the ends, his beard grown and ratty. The sight caused an ache in Vaelerys heart.
"My dearest Doran... what has become of you?" Her voice filled with earnest.
The prince's eyes darted as the sound of bells rung in his ears. The grin which appeared on his solemn face brought light to his eyes depleted of joy and youths bliss. He motioned for his sister by law to sit in her seat by the terrace. A seat which held the memories of her beginnings in Dorne, a seat which forged the Prince and Princess's companionship.
Her eyes never left the fountains as Doran observed her. She could not bare to look at his misery. Part of herself blamed her own selfishness for the state she had found him in. She ran from him, left him alone in agony as he not only mourned his son, but her as well. His chance at happiness, taken by the hands of his brother who lived a life he secretly envied. Yet Oberyn took every ounce of his liberty in vain.
"My spies tell me you and Oberyn have been well." Doran's voice was weak, a hint of happiness in his tone at their reunion.
Vaelerys did not speak. Her eyes leaving the comfort of the fountains to the poor man before her. The pity in her eyes troubled Doran. Their softness causing his already weak heart to moan in unrequited loves agony.
"I did not expect you to come."
She scuffed, a cheeky grin teasing at the edges.
"You are the Prince of Dorne, who am I to reject your summons, Good Brother?"
A silence over came them. The sound of seagulls dancing above in the skies brought only more tension.
Doran was struggling to find his words, despite the haunting fact that he had thought long and hard over this meeting well into the night for days on end. He had even planned to wash for the first time in a week for their luncheon, but his anxieties made him refuse his steward. He instead chose to wallow in a muddied pit of self pity and remorse.
"I would like to begin by apologizing. I was not in my right mind as you said, Vaelerys. No man should ever speak to a married woman as I did you. You are my brothers wife and I must accept that choice I made for the both of you. When Tywin Lannister sent me a raven with The Hands seal I knew I had to play my cards wisely. I knew war had befallen the Andals once more. They have eaten each other alive for centuries."
"Your marriage to my brother had been arranged before Princess Myrcella was betrothed to Trystane. Tywin Lannister was not direct in his words but he had promised you to me with the work of your brother to gain Dornish aid in the War of The Five Kings. You were paraded as a beauty that would bring glory to House Martell and would bring Mellario back to me crawling on her knees like the Norvosi whore he sees her as. Tywin Lannister is serpent dressing himself in a lion hide."
Vaelerys eyes cut to Doran as he spoke with conviction. His hands shook in rage as he gathered his words.
"I would not marry you, but I saw potential. For years I have lived with the horrific death of my sister and her children. Raped, forced to watch that beast of a man crush her sons skull, not knowing if her daughter was being raped as she was, then brutally slain like a lamb for slaughter. I want every Lannister who lived amongst King Aerys rotting on my pikes. I want Cersei Lannister raped like Elia as her father and incestuous king slaying brother watch, then I want the evil child that is Joffrey Lannister's head smashed into mush as Aegon was and his body stabbed half a hundred times as Rhaenys. I have waited for vengeance for twenty years!"
Vaelerys flinched as Doran roared. His eyes were as red as the Dornish sun. Doran was a tortured man, a man who had been waiting for years to avenge those he loved, and in the end only lost more of those he held dear. Yet on the outside he hid his turmoil, unlike his fiery brother. He was silent, playing a game with those who prayed for his death.
"When Rhaegar died at the Trident and Jaime Lannister betrayed his oath, Oberyn asked we campaign for Prince Viserys and rage war on the Baratheons and Lannisters. For a year, I kept tabs on Viserys and Daenerys in exile in Braavos. For a year, Oberyn traveled Dorne rallying support for a Targaryen rule. Till we finally pushed Jon Arryn to prance upon his high horse in our sands."
"They brought me my beloved uncles bones. Left to rot on a pike on The Traitors Walk. Oberyn threw a spear through his horses heart as soon as I opened the chest. My uncle had fathered two bastard sons with his paramour, betraying his Kingsguard oath and shaming his name. A secret that had only been known by Jaime Lannister and Barriston Selmy. Jon Arryn informed me the Crown had the children. And would not hesitate to kill my cousins if Dorne were to rebel against Robert. So Oberyn and I ended the Targaryen campaign. But Jon Arryn did not keep his word. At three and five my nephews were slaughtered in a uprising in Fleabottom over taxes as a result of the war. My nephews had been left in an orphanage which had been ransacked by starving common folk. The orphanage received the smallest percentage of taxes to feed and house the children, so the monsters slaughtered them all. Tearing babies and children limb from limb."
Vaelerys hand fell over her mouth, the horrific image causing tears to swell in her eyes. She had been taught the horrors which occurred during Roberts Rebellion, but the aftermath had been just as awful, hidden away to preserve the Crowns image. A King who had been painted as a savior and honorable man threatened the lives of children and left those with the blood of Nymeria to rot in his gully.
"I could not bare to rage war again. To gain the trust of my people again after going back on my word. What I am about to tell you, Vaelerys, I have told no one but only a singular soul working with me toward the same cause."
Doran took Vaelerys hand in his own, lurching her forward. His lips grazing her ear as he spoke in hushed tones.
"Arianne was to be Queen of The Seven Kingdoms when Prince Viserys came of age as you guessed weeks ago within my chambers. I was to rage war against my enemies. But his death shattered my plot of vengeance. Daenerys is the last living breathing Targaryen. A Targaryen who has birthed dragons from stone, who has freed Slavers Bay, and Conquered Meereen at only six and ten. Quentyn was my hope at having my children on the throne. A Dornish consort, in hopes of someone to advocate for my people after years of mistreatment and abuse. But my foolish son could not live with disappointing me when Daenerys Targaryen informed him she was betrothed to another. So he climbed on the back of a fucking dragon."
Vaelerys flinched as Doran's grip tightened on her wrist.
"Every word you spoke was the truth. I married you to my brother so she would bound herself to us as kin. I need her. I need Daenerys Targaryen if I am ever to successfully send every soul who has wrong my family and people to their pyre. For centuries my family has warred against the Targaryens, natural born enemies are the Rhoynar and the Valyrians. The slaves and the enslavers. For the world to see the light of the scorching sun, we must unite for a purpose I do not yet know and perhaps I shall never live to see. Rhaegar told me once of a darkness that was to come. A darkness only those of the blood of the dragon had foreseen. And he needed my family in order for he and I's blood to survive. He told me in a shaken voice of fear, "For the light to come forth upon a prince my line shall bore, I must bathe my blood in the suns of Dorne."
Doran sat back his eyes closing as he breathed in air of sand and salt. His calloused hand fell to his silk pocket. Vaelerys sat silent as she pondered upon such a prophecy. Word had been spoken that The Mad King had lost his mind because of the Targaryen curse, the curse of foresight which had preserved their lineage during the age of Valyria. What darkness awaited them to unite such sworn foes?
Doran fingered the silver in his pocket, his eyes trained to the Valyrian girl. His eyes no longer held admiration but a sense of duty and purpose.
No not yet, he thought.
When the sun reaches its peak.