THE QUEEN OF THE SEVEN KINGDOMS
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132 AC, Dragonstone
Too soon...
It was too soon...
By Dora's calculations Valyria wasn't due to give birth in another moon. Yet she found herself walking around her bedchambers, two midwives holding onto each of her arms, preventing the princess from dropping to the floor as she let out another pained scream. The pain of childbirth mixed with the array of emotions she felt after hearing about Viserys's passing threw the new queen into a distressed haze.
"This should not be happening," Valyria cried, tears streaming down her face as she was overwhelmed by the feeling of fear and grief. Fear for her own life and that of her child. Devastated by the news of Viserys's passing as she thought about the man who'd helped raise her while simultaneously holding onto that bitterness his name now caused when she thought about what he'd taken from her. "Not now. Why now?"
"Princess, you need to calm yourself," Dora told her, hiding her own growing concern extremely well. The Essosi healer had never seen the princess in such a state before. Not so early in her labours. During Jaeron and Viserys's birth Valyria had her moments of panic but usually they came after hours of labours.
"Keep your head about you, princess," one of the midwives told her reassuringly.
"You've done this five times before," the other one added. "Keep your spirit and the sixth will pass without any difference."
"My spirit is not the issue," Valyria snapped between gritted teeth. How could she keep her spirit when a man who'd raised her like his own daughter was dead. When she had no idea where her second eldest daughter and a boy she loved like a son were at the moment. When the realm soon was about to be plunged into a war.
Across the castle, inside the room of the Painted Table, Prince Daemon stood, face set in a grim scowl as he looked between the members of the household he'd summoned, "I want patrols along the island's perimeter, looking for any small ships that might set ashore," he ordered his men. "If the Greens attack now, it will be by stealth-" he paused for a moment when another pained sob echoed across the stone walls through the keep, "-not directly," he finished, trying to appear unaffected by the sounds of his wife in pain. Not like every single cry felt like a stab through his heart. "We don't have enough men to surround the island but we can make ourselves appear stronger than they are."
Yet another one of Valyria's screams caught the attention of all the men in the room. Noticing how he was losing their focus, Daemon continued, "Conscript the Dragonkeepers. They're capable fighters. Waste no time."
"It will be done, my Prince," Ser Lorent assured him and walked away.
In the birthing chamber Valyria continued fighting for the life of her and her unborn child. Every time she noticed a movement in her peripheral vision, she'd look over to see if it was Daemon who'd arrived. Each time she'd be equally disappointed. She felt utterly alone. Not even Serra was there with her since Valyria sent her lady away to watch the children and delicately break the news of Viserys's passing. The last thing they needed at the moment was to be alone when their mother fought for her life and their father was gods know where.
A flash of silver hair out of the corner of her eye once again made Valyria's hopes rise. Yet instead of her husband coming to her side, it was Rhaenys who cautiously entered. Rhaenys had first seen Valyria when she was but a newborn babe and had been there to see her grow up into the woman she was today; but throughout those years, Valyria had never seemed so vulnerable before. So helpless.
"Lyria," Rhaenys crossed the room and stopped in front of the woman she thought of as a little sister. Daemon and Viserys had always been a duo; they were brothers through that came a special bond. Valyria and Rhaenys were both only children who'd formed their own sisterly bond.
"Rhaenys," Valyria clutched her cousin's hand in her own, resting her forehead against the older princess's shoulder as she tried to manage the pain long enough to get out a coherent sentence. "I can't do this. It's too early – why is this happening?"
"Sssh," Rhaenys interrupted her panicked ramblings. "Some babes come early and sometimes maesters miscalculate. Do not let your fears consume you. This is not the time to give up."
"I — can't," Valyria shook her head vehemently. "Where is Daemon?" she finally asked. He should be there. He was always there. During her previous two births, no one had been capable of keeping him outside the birthing chambers.
"I believe he's gathering your household to prepare the island," Rhaenys told her in a soothing tone, gently brushing a piece of hair away from her forehead.
"He's gone to plot his war," Valyria gasped as another wave of pain hit her. A grieving Daemon was reckless and dangerous. He believed the Greens killed Viserys and them trying to usurp the throne was only to throw fuel on a growing wildfire.
The only thing that can tear down the House of the Dragon is itself...
... You must be the one to take the Iron Throne...
And you must do it without the dragons dancing...
... You must not let that happen...
She didn't hear a word anyone said around her as her father's words echoed like a mantra in her head. For the world of men to survive, for her family's legacy to withstand, she needed to take the Iron Throne. And it needed to be done without the fall of what made her family so powerful in the first place: their dragons.
"Rhaenys," Valyria said, interrupting one of the midwife's who'd been trying to speak with her. "Go to Daemon and – and tell him naught is to be done but by my command – unless he wishes to be fed to a dragon. I don't want him – I don't need him – to plan a war right now. I need him here. With me – Please."
"Of course," Rhaenys nodded, hoping that Daemon could get through to Valyria properly. No one else could fight this battle for her, but mayhaps her husband could provide the proper motivation. Rhaenys turned to leave, but before doing so, she said, "I will bring Daemon here, Lyria, but this will come down to you. This is the first of many battles you'll have to fight now that you're queen. But remember, you are a dragon. Be a dragon."
In the Chamber of the Painted Table, Daemon continued to plan their next move alongside the other men. Every time a particularly pained sob echoed against the stone walls, he'd hide a wince and notice how all of the others' attention drifted away from the defence of the island to the well-being of the queen.
"A raven flew in this morning," Lord Bartimos Celtigar said. "The Sea Snake has left Evenfall."
"Where is he sailing?" Daemon asked, knowing very well what an invaluable ally Lord Corlys could be. After the years the two fought side-by-side together at the Stepstones, there were few men he trusted more in battle. The Sea Snake's fleet definitely would give them an advantage on the seas to complete the one they already had in the skies.
"That much is unclear, my Prince," Lord Bartimos told him.
"We'll send ravens to our nearest allies: Lords Darklyn, Massey-" Daemon started listing the nearest allies they had when Valyria another gut-wrenching scream came from the queen's chambers.
"Do you want to speak to the healer, my Prince?" Ser Lorent asked, his own concern for the queen growing. The withering glare he received from the prince in response made the Kingsguard lower his gaze, however not without seeing a flash of guilt on the prince's face. A tense moment of silence followed.
"I'll fly to the Riverlands myself and affirm Lord Tully's support," Daemon announced. The Starks and Tyrells were already certain allies due to both Valyria and Elara's connection to the wolves and the fact that Lady Tyrell was one of Valyria's closest friends. If Loran Tyrell knew what was best for him, he'd not risk his wife's fury by not supporting her queen.
"You will do nothing of the sort," Princess Rhaenys said, walking into the great hall with a confident stride. "The Queen has decreed no action is to be taken while she's abed." Narrowing her eyes at Daemon she added in High Valyrian, "And there was a threat about feeding you to a dragon if you disobeyed her command."
Daemon clenched his jaw in annoyance. He couldn't very well be expected to simply sit there and do nothing. Not when the Greens could be attacking at any moment. "The ravens, Lord Bartimos," Daemon then said, not seeing how Valyria could be angry with him for protecting their home and rallying their islands.
Hesitating for a moment, Lord Bartimos relented, not about to stand up against the Rogue Prince, "I shall see it done."
Realising that Daemon was too consumed by his rage that he couldn't make rational decisions, Rhaenys switched to High Valyrian – to not include other men in the conversation, when she harshly said, "Your wife is fighting for her life and the life of your unborn child. She needs you right now – more than ever."
Noticing the flash of guilt in his eyes, Rhaenys continued, "If she or that child dies while you are here, undermining her authority by disobeying her commands, I know you will never forgive yourself. You will spend the remainder of your miserable life torturing yourself with the thought that things might have turned out differently if you were by her side. Your Queen needs you, Daemon."
The mask of cold indifference Daemon tried so hard to maintain started cracking. After moons of worrying about this moment, he'd left Valyria to deal with it on her own. "Make sure the island is protected," Daemon harshly commanded Ser Lorent, "until the Queen's out of her birthing chambers."
Then he strode out of the Chamber of the Painted Table. His quick steps turned into a sprint and soon he found himself running up the stairs. The pungent scent of blood hit him as he entered to find Valyria being held up by two midwives.
"It took you long enough," Dora sent him a deathly glare. Normally, she'd scowl at his presence and now she was angered by his absence. He truly could never win.
Ignoring the healer, knowing that snapping back at the older woman wouldn't get them anywhere right now, Daemon instead focused on his wife. Taking her face in his hands, he tilted her head backwards, "I'm here now."
"After being forced," Valyria snapped between gritted teeth. The relief from having him there definitely didn't wash away the bitter feelings from how he'd avoided it in the first place. "Had I not sent Rhaenys, you'd have left me to bleed out on my own."
Daemon winced at the truth behind her harsh words. Dealing with emotions had never been a strong suit for him. As a young man, he never cared much about how his actions affect others. He never felt guilt for his deeds because caring about what others thought would only serve to hold him back. Valyria was the first person to really make his stomach knot with the terrible feeling of knowing that he'd caused someone else pain.
This time, he'd left her alone and scared after her entire world had been thrown upside down because he didn't even know how to deal with it himself. "I'm so-"
"Spare me your apologies now," Valyria told him. "I shall yell at you after this babe is out of me." Being able to rip him a new one provided yet another perfect motivation for fighting to survive this birth.
"Konir sagon ñuha riña," Daemon smiled proudly, kissing her sweaty forehead gently. In that moment, her yelling at him was all he could hope for because it meant she'd managed to get through the birth with her life.
The following hours felt like an eternity for every single person on Dragonstone. Due to the stone walls, Valyria's cries were impossible to avoid. The household all feared for the life of their new queen, Rhaenys for her cousin, Serra for her closest friend, the children for their beloved mother and Daemon for his wife.
When a weak cry rang through the birthing chamber – one that didn't belong to the queen – everyone let out a collective sigh of relief that it finally was over. Valyria slumped down on the chair she'd been seated on and might have fallen off had it not been for her husband's supporting grip.
"Well done, Your Grace," Dora praised her, holding the crying babe. "It's a girl. A princess."
Valyria laughed weakly in joy, tears still streaming down her cheeks, "And she – she's well?"
"She's a fighter," Dora assured her, giving the newborn babe to her mother. "Though – we will watch her closely. She's a little smaller – it happens with early babes."
Valyria nodded, looking down at her daughter's small face. The little girl felt even more like a feather than any of her older siblings; delicate like a flower. For a moment, Valyria forgot about everything going on outside the walls of her bedchambers as she stared down at the little girl. There was no war looming on the horizon, only her little daughter.
Daemon kissed her cheek, muttering, "You did it," watching their daughter in awe. Despite the birth not being an easy one, he couldn't help but feel relief from noticing that she didn't look as drained as she had after Viserys's birth.
"Our princess," Valyria smiled. Both of them had daughters already but this was the first girl they had together.
"What will you name her?" Daemon wondered.
"Daenora," Valyria told him after a moment of thinking it through. A girl named after her father – she thought it fitting. Especially considering how Daemon likely would spend the remainder of his life chasing other men away from her and protecting her from harm.
"It's perfect," Daemon smiled lovingly, resting his forehead against hers. "Our Dany."
.•° ✿ °•.
One could have hoped that Valyria's day would be over after giving birth. But the new Queen couldn't very well simply remain resting in her chambers – no matter how much her husband would have preferred it that way – when the realm she'd just inherited was being usurped at that very moment. The Hightowers would not wait for her recovery which meant she did not have that luxury.
Once she'd bathed and changed into a new dress Valyria was already out of her chambers. The dress she'd chosen had a red skirt with a black bodice, designed to look like dragonscales lined with red thread. Instead of a corset tied at the back, the bodice was clasped together at the front by golden clasps the shape of dragons.
Aelia and Daeron came running into her chambers the moment they were allowed; they had much better of an understanding of what was happening than their younger brothers who couldn't comprehend why their mother had been crying, or even that it was their mother. While assuring her children that everything was fine and that they'd just gotten a new little sister, Valyria noticed Serra enter with an urgent expression.
"What is it?" Valyria asked her lady, fearing more bad news. All the worst possible scenarios flashed through her mind. More bad news from the capital, an official declaration of war, that the Greens might have launched an attack against Dorne.
"It's Cyrenna and Aegon," Serra revealed. "Vermithor and Sunfyre have been spotted in the skies."
A wave of relief washed over Valyria at those words and she wasted no time nearly sprinting through the keep. Had it not been for her own body protesting, she would have broken into a run. All the servants she passed bowed deeply as she walked by them. When she'd been escorted into the birthing chamber, no one else had known about Viserys's passing but now the news had spread like wildfire across the island of Dragonstone.
Looking up, Valyria could see the silhouettes of two dragons circling up in the grey clouds. She didn't halt her steps as she continued down to where the dragons prepared to land. As she got closer, Valyria realised that Daemon already arrived alongside some of their men who almost appeared ready to launch an attack.
"Stand down," Valyria said firmly, announcing her presence to them all. At once, most of the men sheathed their weapons and stood straight, waiting for her next command. Valyria's piercing gaze zeroed in on her husband, "What are you doing?"
"We're simply prepared for the worst," Daemon assured her, leaving his post to get to her side. "You could have waited inside-"
"It's my daughter," Valyria told him, pushing past him. By no means was Valyria naive, but she couldn't see any reason why her daughter would mean any harm.
The Bronze Fury landed first, causing a slight shake to the ground and behind him Sunfyre reached the ground with significantly less force. On top of the fearsome beast, Cyrenna looked so small and as the dragon spread out his great tan wings, she slid down to the ground gracefully. Clad in a dull brown cloak she could have been mistaken for a commoner on the streets if not for her beautiful golden hair pulled into a braid, hidden in the hood.
"Mūna," Cyrenna picked up her skirts and practically ran towards her mother like she used to do as a child. Valyria met her halfway, hugging her daughter tightly in utter relief. The second Valyria heard what the Greens had done, Valyria feared for her daughter's life in the hands of Otto Hightower and Alicent; feared how they could hurt Cyrenna to get to her.
"Kirimvogon se Jaes iksā kesīr," Valyria muttered into her daughter's hair. Stepping back, Valyria searched Cyrenna's face for any visible injuries, letting out a sigh of relief when she found none. "How did you escape?" She was under no illusion that Alicent and Otto simply allowed them to walk out of the Red Keep.
"We manage to get out through the passageways," Cyrenna explained. "And then we snuck through the city to get into the Dragonpit. The Dragonkeepers there are loyal to House Targaryen, so they let us pass through."
"I'm so happy you got out," Valyria told her. Then her gaze landed on a figure approaching behind Cyrenna. Prince Aegon was clad in a similar brown cloak to his wife that now had been pulled back to reveal his shoulder-length silver hair.
As he stepped closer Ser Erryk, Ser Lorrent and Ser Steffon Darklyn, the three Kingsguards on the island to guard the Princess of Dragonstone and her family, stepped forward to block him. "Stand down," Valyria repeated her previous command, eyes locked on Aegon.
A young man that she'd known since he was but a babe. That she'd loved like one of her own children for years. As she looked at him now, he almost looked as vulnerable and frightened as he used to when he was a child being scolded by his mother or grandfather. She hated that his purple eyes were filled with uncertainty as he watched her cautiously.
In one slow movement – to show everyone he meant no harm – Aegon pulled back the cloak to reveal the sword strapped to his waist. Keeping his gaze on Valyria – with enough distance to not really be a threat – he unsheathed the sword, revealing the fabled hand-and-a-half longsword of Valyrian steel, once wielded by Aegon the Conqueror: Blackfyre.
None had wielded the sword since Jaehaerys. Viserys had it in his possession from the day he took the throne and would sometimes hold it when seated upon the Iron Throne, but since he'd never shown much talent for the tiltyard it was more decorative like his crown rather than a weapon. Daemon had his eyes on the sword for a long time even after being given Dark Sister by their grandfather for his prowess.
Silently, Aegon kneeled down on the ground, laying Blackfyre on the ground in front of him. He then reached into the satchel hanging over his shoulder, opened it and took out a familiar circlet of Valyrian steel, set with big square-cut rubies: the Conqueror's crown.
Holding the crown in his hands, Aegon bowed his head, "I am here to swear fealty to Queen Valyria," he announced. "I swear that I will pay true allegiance to Your Grace, and to your heirs and successors according to law."
As Aegon spoke, Daemon had walked over to the young man. However, he seemed less interested in what he said and more in the crown he held onto. Taking the crown from Aegon's grip, he silently stared at it for a few seconds. Looking over his shoulder, his gaze caught that of his wife. His Queen.
Silently he walked over to Valyria whose attention shifted from Aegon to her husband. Stopping in front of her, Daemon held eye contact as he carefully placed the crown on her head; the weight of it wasn't even as heavy as the tiaras she usually wore due to the lightness of the Valyrian steel but there was a symbolic weight placed upon her shoulders at that moment.
Daemon kneeled down on the ground in front of her, tilting his head upwards to look at her as he muttered, "My Queen," and then he bowed his head.
My Queen...
Hearing those words from her husband caused her such a thrill. She couldn't think of anyone else that she'd rather have crowned her than him. The man who would support her throughout her rule. The father of her youngest children and the man she loved.
Everyone surrounding her followed his lead, kneeling down on the ground for their new Queen; Kingsguards, soldiers, Serra and even her children all bent the knee. Nearly thirty years since she should have been crowned Queen, Valyria got to experience how it felt to see one's subjects swear their fealty to her. The feeling was overwhelming; she couldn't help but think that in a way all of their lives were in her hands now. Being Queen or King meant having thousands of children all over the realm in need of protection and guidance.
Yet at the same time, Valyria didn't hate the feeling. A part of her always wanted this. Wanted the throne. She liked being able to make a difference and not be forced to watch others selfishly ruin the lives of others for their own gain.
"Rise," Valyria said after a while, realising that no one would stand before the queen allowed them. Daemon got to his feet and slowly leaned down to press a kiss against her cheek. Once more, Valyria looked over at Aegon who remained kneeling on the ground.
Walking past her husband, who followed close behind, Valyria approached the young prince. She stopped in front of him and held out a hand, "Rise," she said again, this time a little quieter, only for his ears.
Aegon's eyes snapped up to meet hers. She smiled gently at him which encouraged Aegon to take her hand as he got up to his feet. "I'm happy you're here, Egg," Valyria told him sincerely, truly happy that he'd escaped with Cyrenna. Otto and Alicent planned to put him on the throne and she'd have hated to be on opposite sides of this war from Aegon.
In a display of unity between the two possible heirs, Valyria wrapped Aegon in a motherly embrace that he gladly returned. "I would not want to be anywhere else," he whispered, finally feeling like he was where he belonged. The only way he regretted the decision to leave King's Landing was because he didn't have the opportunity to get Aemond and Helaena to come with him. With a crooked smile, he added, "Your Grace."