Prologue
Elia Martell was born too soon. Her lord father Daeron Gargalen held his breath the entire birth, not once opening his eyes from his seat outside the birthing room. He was a fearsome man to behold, but the sounds of his wife giving birth terrified him. The midwives wiped their bloodied hands across their brows and prayed to the mother that she have a quick death.
But the ruling Princess of Dorne knew her daughter would live. She refused to let the Stranger to take this child, not again. She'd fight tooth and nail, she'd wager all of Dorne if it meant her child would live.
And she did.
Eight Years Later
Princess of Dorne
Lady Adrielle narrowed her eyes at the maester who sat before her. The balding man quivered at the princess' chilling gaze and stumbled over his words.
The Princess raised her hand to stop him: "Think carefully about what you utter to me next, maester Ayron, or they may be your last." The man shook his head in exasperation.
"You misunderstand me, my lady. I simply meant the princess will always be in this condition, there is nothing to cure her of it." He finished, and adjusted his gray robes uncomfortably.
Adrielle stood from her chair and desk and walked to the arched balcony overlooking the courtyard. Below her she saw Doran showing something-a book perhaps, or a scroll, to his younger siblings. The look of fascination on their eyes made them look like a painting down there, like someone had concocted the very image in a dream. It was nearly sundown, and everything was on fire in the sand marbled palace.
"Is there nothing we can do to ease any of the symptoms? Make her healthy in any way?" She begged, for she so needed a positive answer.
Perhaps she blamed herself for her daughter's illness. It was her fault her babe was born too early. She has been too stressed and the maester told her to stay in bed for the last moon of the pregnancy. Of she had just stayed in bed.
And now she had to live with the consequences. Her daughter was born small with weak lungs, and a heart that beat like a hummingbird.
"Well, bleedings could ease some of the symptoms, my lady. She would need a healthy diet and exercise-but nothing strenuous. I suggest treating her like any other child, but with a very watchful eye and monitoring at all times." The maester replied, slightly bolder. He was beginning to sound more confident. Princess Adrielle raised an eyebrow in his direction.
"You will see to this Maester Jordaen, and we will discuss the details with my husband when he arrives from Kings Landing." The maester bowed to her and left with a sweep of a robe. Adrielle closed her eyes in exhaustion.
She tried to feel some sense of hope, that the maester's confidence was a sign that her daughter really would be able to have a normal childhood. Her son's words came to mind as she felt the guilt wash over her.
'She is beautiful.' Her son cooed over the swaddled babe. Adrielle's heart swelled with love at the sound of awe coming from her son. She has never seen a babe as beautiful as Elia, not since her sweet Doran was born. Her son was her pride and now Elia was her joy.
'She is weak my boy, but thankfully she will have you to make her strong. A princess needs an older brother.' Daeron murmured next to her. Adrielle closed her eyes too stop the tears from falling in both happiness that her daughter was born-but also fear for the future.
Doran furrowed his brows but kept a knowing look in his eyes. He was old enough to understand what it meant for a babe who was born prematurely.
'She will be strong, I am sure. Nothing will stand in her way as long as I am here.' Her eldest child proclaimed.
The Princess prayed to the Gods his hope was not false.
(A/N: I have a lot of OC's of course, like Elia's father. And until their mother is named I gave her a name.)