Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own A Song of Ice and Fire, Game of Thrones, House of the Dragon, nor any of George RR Martin's works

Rated M for strong language, violence, adult content, adult situations, incest, age-gap relationships, and some sexual content

Enjoy

Kingswood, 115 AC...

The royal carriage bustling with a mix of delightful smiles and sour-faced frowns to the Iron Throne. Rhaenyra sat apart from her father and stepmother and their darling boy, Prince Aegon. Her sister, Princess Daella, was now 3 and preferred the comfort of Rhaenyra's lap. She was curled up against Rhaenyra, eyes heavy with sleep. The handmaids and wet nurse watched the family with prying eyes. The tension of the family could easily be carved like butter. Viserys handed little Aegon a toy dragon painted in the colors of Balerion the Black Dread. "Well, isn't this splendid? The whole of our family off to celebration and adventure in the Kingswood."

The carriage suddenly rattled and Queen Alicent winced, grabbing the bottom of her round belly. Something only Rhaenyra seemed to notice. "Should you be traveling in such condition?"

"The maester said being out in nature would do me well," Alicent said dryly.

"You will be with your own child sooner than late and make me a proud grandsire," Viserys said with a warm smile. He nodded to Daella. "Your sister has provided you with good practice."

Rhaenyra resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "It's not so bad," Alicent added. "The days are long, but Aegon came quickly and without fuss."

The princess said nothing. The carriage rattled again, disturbing Daella from her nap. Rhaenyra absentmindedly patted her back, using her knees to bounce the toddler back to sleep. Viserys watched the two of them and recalled a moment, years ago, when he found Aemma sitting in the gardens with Rhaenyra sleeping on her lap just as Daella slept on Rhaenyra's. The memory made his eyes burn. He shoved it aside and buried it deep. "You should ride out with me today. Join the chase."

"I'd rather not," she said. "Boars squeal like children when they are being slaughtered. I find it discomforting."

"It's a hunt, Rhaenyra-" he paused as Aegon tossed his toy Balerion to the floor "-how would you like to participate?"

"I'm not sure why I must." She gestured to her sleeping sister. "Who would look after Daella? My heir?"

Viserys frowned. "Because you are my heir...my daughter. The handmaids will care for your sister. You have more duties beyond looking after her."

"As I am ceaselessly reminded."

"I'm sorry?"

"As I am ceaselessly reminded," Rhaenyra repeated, louder.

Viserys mirrored his daughter's sharp tone. "You wouldn't need reminding if you ever attended to them."

"No one's here for me."

"It is your brother's second nameday," he reminded.

Rhaenyra turned away, tired of the conversation. One that they've had many times over. It wasn't hatred in her heart, but betrayal. Aegon was innocent, but his very existence created unspoken knowledge that Rhaenyra's status would inevitably change. When her father commenced her investiture as Princess of Dragonstone, Daella was named as her heir until she bore children. Now, her status was somehow below Aegon all because he was a boy. It was hypocritical. Rhaenyra's thoughts drifted into old memories, before Alicent became her stepmother, before her uncle and cousin were banished from court. She remembered the days she spent in the godswood, laying beneath the weirwood with her two closest friends. I wonder what Alyssa is doing at this very moment...

Stepstones...

"Drakarys!"

Starfyre blasted the Triarchy soldiers with her brilliant green flames. Arrows soared through the air, coming from hidden points in the cliffs. Alyssa pressed herself close against the saddle. Starfyre dove to the left, protecting Alyssa as the arrows bounced harmlessly off the dragon's belly. Alyssa steered Starfyre upwards to swoop down over the hidden spots of the archers. "Drakarys!"

More green flame. A shrill whistle carried on the wind. Up above, Caraxes burst through the approaching storm clouds and dove down past Starfyre, blasting the top of the cliffs where more archers lay in wait. Alyssa urged Starfyre upwards to follow after Caraxes, silently thanking her father. She had not seen the enemy atop the cliffs. Starfyre flapped her wings harder, catching up to the Blood Wyrm. The orange she-dragon had thrived in war, growing double in size and almost as large as Caraxes. Even better, the two dragons had bonded. Daemon signaled for Alyssa to follow, his face unreadable beneath his dragon helm, but his displeasure was evident. Alyssa groaned, "great."

They flew passed the scorched little islands that they had steadily won back from the Triarchy. Insignificant pieces of land with little to no vegetation. Some were still burning. The Velaryon base was situated on Dwarfstone, one of the larger islands that overlooked the largest channel where most trading vessels passed through. Across the water on Snailstone, a burned camp full of charred corpses and forgotten flags of the Triarchy and Dorne. Starfyre landed first, nearly crashing into Seasmoke. The pale grey dragon snarled in surprise. "Lykirī, Lykirī," Alyssa soothed Starfyre. "I'll bring you some supper, don't worry."

Caraxes landed a ways behind them. Though the blood-red dragon was familiar with Starfyre enough to even share meals, he did not take to Seasmoke. Daemon stroked one of Caraxes' horns as he walked towards his daughter. He removed his helmet, his hair frizzy with sweat and grime. "Have I taught you nothing?"

"Thank you for saving me, Father," she said monotonously. "I would be dead if it weren't for you."

"This is not a game, Alyssa."

She turned to frown at him. "I know that. You have had decades to train and hone your skills. I have only had three years."

"Then you should understand my concerns," he said. "You have to be better. Mistakes like that will get you killed."

Alyssa nodded in acceptance. Daemon slipped his hand around the back of her neck, bringing her to him, and pressed his forehead to hers. She had grown a little, in more ways than one. His heart swelled with pride despite his scolding of her. "Come. The storm will be here soon."

They made their way to the Velaryon camp. Most of the soldiers were tired, battle-worn to the bone. They forced themselves to their feet as Daemon and Alyssa walked by. Alyssa greeted them all with a polite nod, a habit ingrained into her very being. They reached their tent set up next to Lord Corlys'. A large one with the Targaryen banner on the front. It had two separate beds sectioned off on opposite ends of the tent for privacy. Once they were inside, Daemon shed his armor, leaving a trail of black steel all the way to his side of the tent. His bed made a whoosh side as he collapsed onto it.

Alyssa was more graceful, removing her armor to set it on the wooden mannequin. She tossed a couple of logs into the brazier. The nights had grown cold of late. She heaved her chest plate off and sighed with relief, exhaling loudly. Her cream-colored tunic had turned brown from the long days of sweating and fighting. She set her sword down on the table next to a stack of scrolls. One sealed in shiny brown wax caught her eye. Another? She is relentless.

She had thought the Stepstones would be far from Lady Rhea's reach, but the heir of Runestone knew no bounds. Alyssa broke the seal and unrolled the letter. It was short and blunt as typical of her mother's letters. Alyssa read it. Then read it again. And again. Her brows furred in confusion, reading the letter over and over, hearing her mother's harsh voice in her head. And Alyssa felt...nothing. She set the scroll down, letting it roll back into place. Her own indifference confused her. Shouldn't I be furious? Hurt? Shouldn't I despair?

No answer came to mind. Perhaps she felt relieved? She snorted, leaning on the table. Fine, mother. You win.

The flap of the tent was thrown open and Lord Corlys' squire stepped inside. "Princess, Lord Corlys has called for a war meeting."

"Thank you, Victor."

The squire nodded and promptly left. Alyssa sighed and tucked her mother's letter into her pocket. She changed into a clean tunic and her riding coat. She entered her father's side of the tent and nudged his foot. He ignored her. She nudged him harder. "Wake up, Father. We've been summoned."

"Tell them to fuck off," he said.

Alyssa grabbed his food and dragged him off the bed until he was sitting on the floor. He glared up at her, but she only smiled. "You can tell Lord Corlys to fuck off yourself. Let's go."

She did not wait for him. Alyssa strapped her sword to her hip and left the tent with her head held high. She let down her braid, letting her curls flow freely down her back. Lord Corlys waited with his brother, Ser Vaemond, his son, Ser Laenor, and the other commanders at the highest point of the island that held the best vantage point over the channel. The men bowed in greeting to Alyssa. Lord Corlys turned back to the battle map laid out on the table before them. "As I was saying, we have sixteen, perhaps eighteen, seaworthy ships. Seven hundred foot soldiers, some sixty knights."

He set the little models of ships around Dwarfstone. "Our food quickly dwindles, save for what we can fish from the sea. I would say we have a fortnight, mayhaps a bit longer with strict rationing. I've made a call for Driftmark to send more ships, but they will be weeks away. We are faltering and the Triarchy knows it. We must press the attack, and continue sending the dragons."

"It's pointless, Father," Laenor said. He moved the crab pieces around Bloodstone, the main camp of Drahar. "The Crabfeeder has created a choke point here, beyond these dunes. Archers hold the high positions, foot soldiers hold the ground, and Dornish ships defend the waters. We've strafed them on dragonback again and again, but they just retreat within the caves."

"Something they've learned from the Dornish," Alyssa added. "Dorne withstood Balerion and Vhagar for ten years and easily recovered once the flames subsided. This is no different."

"The princess is right," Vaemond said. He looked pointedly at his brother. "Has there been any word from Prince Qoren Martell?"

Corlys rolled his eyes and sighed. "The Prince has refused my terms."

"The Dornish laugh in the face of peace terms," said Daemon. All eyes turned to him as he finally joined the meeting. He walked over to stand between Alyssa and Vaemond, using her shoulder to lean on. "A valiant effort, if not a foolish one."

"An alliance with Dorne is a sound plan," Vaemond said. "If they pull their support from the Triarchy, we would gain an advantage and turn the tide of this war."

"The war is not yet lost."

"But we are losing," he countered. "How many more islands must be scorched? How many more ships? The enemy has an endless supply it seems. Dorne is far more powerful than we ever gave them credit for."

Corlys rolled his eyes again. "Enough, Vaemond. Prince Qoren has refused my terms twice now. Trade, gold, ships...nothing I offer is 'enough' for him."

Alyssa tuned out the Velaryon brothers' bickering. The letter in her pocket grew heavy, reminding her of her mother's decision. Alyssa poured over the last three years. The fighting, the burnings, the negotiating. Laenor was right. It was pointless. They could burn the Stepstones to ash and the Triarchy would still emerge victorious. They were safe in their caves, protected by sellswords and Dornish ships. If Dorne was somehow removed from the board...? Alyssa closed her eyes, realizing the answer to her own question. "...not give dominion over the trade routes to them," Corlys said.

"Why not?" Vaemond argued. "You said it yourself, gold and ships and trade are not enough for the Prince. We must give him something more."

"What more could we give him, brother?" he snapped. "Would you have me surrender the Driftwood Throne to him?"

"I did not mean-"

"We did not spend these last three years defending-!"

"-what other choice do we-!"

"-islands only to peddle them away like beggars!"

"Me."

The men went silent and all eyes turned to Alyssa. She met each of their gazes. "Prince Qoren is unmarried, yes? Offer me."

"No," Daemon said.

Corlys and Vaemond exchanged glances. Alyssa turned to her father. "I am of age, Father."

"Dorne is our enemy."

"And would be our ally through a marriage alliance," she pointed out.

"There's a good chance Prince Qoren would be open to it," Corlys added, ignoring Daemon's furious glare. "What would be more desirable than a dragonrider?"

"Then perhaps you should offer up your own daughter, Lord Corlys," Daemon said. "Bind yourself and your house to the dishonorable vipers that would happily eat you all alive."

"That is exactly why it should be me," Alyssa interjected. "Dorne has refused every offer to tie itself to the Seven Kingdoms but I am only the daughter of a second-!"

Daemon grabbed her arm and dragged her away. Only stopping until they were beyond the ears of the war council. "Have you lost your mind?"

"I wonder that often."

Daemon shook her. "Do not jest with me, Alyssa. I will not sell you to Dorne like a common whore. You are my daughter. The blood of the dragon flows within you and I will not let you suffer the same fate as me."

"Alliances are made more often through marriage. I understand this-"

"Do you?!" He released her, shaking his head as he gathered himself. "You are my only child. I would rather you marry someone that makes you happy, that would make you smile, someone you could build a life with...not a worthless old man."

"I thought the Prince was younger than you?"

"It doesn't matter!" He took a moment to calm himself. Daemon stepped closer to her. "Your suggestion is rejected. I cannot approve the marriage proposal on my own anyhow. The inheritance of Runestone must be taken into account and your mother-"

"Has disowned me." Alyssa reached into her pocket and held up the crumpled scroll. Daemon took it, unrolling it to read. "She named my cousin, Ser Gunthor Royce, as her successor, and my grandfather, Lord Yorbert, has approved it. I will receive nothing. My future children and any descendants will receive nothing."

Daemon's face grew hard and he crumpled the scroll into a ball. "And I have chosen to accept her decision," she added. "The Vale was never my future."

"Running away to Dorne is not a solution."

"I'm not running." She tilted her head to meet his gaze. "I know what this means, Father. Truly, I do. All I ask is that you trust me when I say my fire will not be snuffed out by the Martells. I am a Targaryen. Prince Qoren will submit to me not the other way around."

Daemon half-smiled despite his anger. He placed his hand on her cheek and searched her eyes for any uncertainty but there was none. "Truthfully, I half-expected you to marry Ser Laenor."

She frowned. "Why would you think that?"

"Seasmoke and Starfyre have grown quite fond of each other," he said with a shrug. "Dragons often mirror their riders' own affections."

"Well...I'm not as pretty as Ser Joffrey Lonmouth."

Daemon blinked. Then laughed. He released a heavy sigh and slid his hand from Alyssa's cheek to her shoulder. "Come. Let us send your idiotic offer to the vipers."

Pinkstone, the next day...

Lord Corlys, Ser Vaemond, Prince Daemon, Princess Alyssa, and several Velaryon guards awaited on the tiny island no bigger than the throne room of the Red Keep. In truth, it was mainly a large sandbar, but it served as a perfect spot to parley. Two rowboats slowly made their way from a Dornish ship, bearing orange flags with the Martell sun pierced by a yellow spear. Alyssa used every bit of her strength to remain impartial and composed. Inside, her heart raced with apprehension. She told herself that nothing about Prince Qoren actually mattered save for his agreement to the match. That is all that matters, she reminded herself.

Two Martell knights pulled the rowboats onto the shore. While they all wore Martell colors, one man stood out from the rest. He had a handsome face covered by a close-cropped beard and dark hair that swayed with the wind. He carried an air of power that drew attention to him. His unreadable gaze studied every single person save for Alyssa. His dark eyes seemed to pass her over. Lord Corlys bowed his head and his brother did the same. "Greetings, Prince Qoren. Thank you for agreeing to meet with us."

With him standing closer, Alyssa could see small suns engraved in Prince Qoren's armor all along his chest. The Dornishman returned the courtesy with a quick nod of his head. "I must admit I was surprised to receive your request to parley. I had thought my refusal of your terms was clear enough," he said. "Or do you plan to surrender?"

"On the contrary, I've come to present you with another offer." Corlys gestured to Daemon. "We both have. One that you will find more worthwhile than the previous ones."

Prince Qoren snorted, rolling his eyes. "Present all the gold and ships you'd like. Dorne lacks for nothing. Dorne needs nothing."

"Not even a dragon?" Daemon asked.

Qoren raised an eyebrow. "A dragon? Have you grown so desperate that you resort to selling your greatest weapon?" He laughed. "A tempting offer, but even I know dragons only obey the blood of Old Valyria. A dragon is useless to Dorne. No."

"How about the blood of Old Valyria, then?" Alyssa declared.

Prince Qoren's gaze finally fell upon her. Daemon clenched and unclenched his fists. He had been half-blocking the Prince's view of his daughter, but she had now stepped around him. "I told you to let us handle this," he whispered.

"You're not doing a very good job of it." Alyssa took another step forward so that the Prince could get a closer look at her. She curtsied and clasped her hands behind her back. Corlys introduced her. "This is Princess Alyssa Targaryen, daughter of Prince Daemon Targaryen."

Qoren studied Alyssa from head to toe, occasionally glancing at Daemon who stared back with a challenging glare. "You are a dragonrider?" he asked her.

"I am." She pointed to the sky where Starfyre circled above with Seasmoke and Caraxes. "Starfyre hatched in my cradle and has been by my side ever since." She noticed the Prince looking from dragon to dragon. "She's the orange one."

Qoren snapped his gaze to her. Some of his guards exchanged glances. The Prince thought for a moment and turned back to Corlys and Daemon. "An offer of marriage with a dragon included...what would you have Dorne do in exchange, should I accept?"

"The offer of trade still stands as well," Corlys said. "In addition, you will pull your support of the Triarchy and ally with us. Together, we will vanquish the Crabfeeder and put an end to this war. Order must be restored, Prince Qoren."

Qoren thought this over, his fingers gently tapping on his thigh. "Before I give you my answer, I will speak with Princess Alyssa alone."

"Very well."

"No," Daemon countered.

Alyssa rolled her eyes. "The island is not that big, Father, and this is a parley. Surely, Prince Qoren doesn't intend to harm me with three dragons circling ahead." Daemon fumed further. "And I have my sword."

Prince Qoren snickered. He pointed to her sword with his chin. "Do you even know how to use that?"

"Would you like to find out?" she asked with a sweet smile.

The Dornishman laughed. "I'm starting to like you already."

Alyssa gave Daemon a reassuring glance and headed toward the east side of the island. Prince Qoren fell in line beside her. He wasn't as tall as Daemon or Lord Corlys, but the Prince of Dorne had a good five or six inches on her. Her father trained her hard. Sparring against someone twice your size prepares you for any enemy. "How old are you, Princess?"

"Eighteen. And you, my Prince?"

"Celebrated my twenty-fifth nameday last week." He eyed her curiously. "Does that bother you?"

"No. Does it bother you?"

He smirked then glanced up at the dragons. "An orange dragon...why name her Starfyre?"

"Occasionally, dragons will produce unique colored flames," she explained. "Starfyre is rather special. Her flames are bright green like her eyes. As a child, they reminded me of stars."

They had reached as far as they could on the tiny island. She glanced back at her father and the others, all watching the two of them like wolves ready to pounce. Prince Qoren surveyed the horizon as he thought. "Is this truly what you want? You don't know me. You've never stepped foot in Dorne, I'd wager. Why would a young warrior such as yourself put up her sword so soon?"

"If our marriage puts an end to this ridiculous war, then yes, it is what I want," she said. "And as a princess, it is my duty to marry a high lord. A Prince of Dorne is all the better." She stepped closer to him. "And no one said I had to put my sword down when I become your wife."

"When?" he mused. "Your confidence is admirable. I haven't agreed to the match yet."

"You will."

Prince Qoren narrowed his eyes. "What makes you so certain?"

"It is not just noble blood that courses through my veins, Prince Qoren. You were correct when you said that dragons only obey the blood of Old Valyria, but it is more than that. The blood within my dragon is the same as my own. It is why House Targaryen is able to command dragons where other families cannot." She took another step closer. "And a dragon is bound to only one rider. No other may claim her."

He listened intently, hanging on every word. "I cannot make any guarantees," she continued, "but our children could potentially be future dragonriders."

Qoren raised an eyebrow. "House Targaryen has kept its blood pure for hundreds of years. Why break tradition now?"

"Not all Targaryens marry their siblings," she said, gesturing to her hair. Alyssa took another step closer. There was barely a hand's with of space between them. "Think about it, my prince. As your wife, my dragon and I would be duty bound to protect Dorne and her interests. As the niece of the King, you have a direct line to the Seven Kingdoms. You would be allied with the richest house in all of Westeros. Everything is in your favor."

"Who is your mother?"

Alyssa blinked, taken aback. "W-What?"

"Your mother," he repeated. "You said not all Targaryens marry their siblings. So...who is your mother?"

"Lady Rhea Royce of Runestone."

"Never heard of it."

"It holds no interest or benefit to you," she said. Alyssa lowered her gaze, sneaking a glance at her father. "I wish to be honest with you. My mother disinherited me, her only child, in favor of my cousin."

"Disinheritance is serious. What did you do to earn such a harsh sentence?"

"Refused to marry said cousin." She shrugged, shaking her head slightly. "If my mother had her way, I would've married long ago...to fade away from history and exist only to produce more Royces."

"One could say you are doing just that, Princess." He gestured between the two of them. "Our children would be born Martells, not Targaryens."

She held up a finger. "True, but Dorne is not Runestone. Your people honor the rights of primogeniture regardless of gender. And Dornish women are not discouraged from wielding weapons or living a life of adventure." She lowered her hand and smiled softly. "Dorne is strong. You do not need me. But I will honor my vows to you, give you healthy children who may be dragonriders, and defend you from any and all enemies. I swear all of it to you and more."

Prince Qoren studied her face. They were close enough that he could count the freckles on her cheeks. The bits of gold flecks in her brown eye. He thought over the offer once more in its entirety. Slowly, he nodded his head. "I accept your proposal."

Alyssa smiled. "Wonderful. Once the Crabfeeder is vanquished and Triarchy is sent back to the Free Cities, we shall have a proper and grand wedding-"

"No."

Her smile faltered. She searched his eyes, seeing the suspicion within. "For this alliance to succeed, you're going to have to provide a bit of trust on your part. We will not betray you."

"We are at war, Princess, and I am wary of long engagements," he said. "We marry first and then together, we will deal with Drahar."

She blinked, looking back at her father and the others a bit helplessly. "It...will take some time to retrieve a Septon. We're in the middle of a war as you said."

"I have a Septon with me."

Alyssa nearly burst out laughing. "Do you always travel with a Septon on hand? Come across many maiden princesses?"

"Septon Cassan is a good luck charm. He has saved my life more times than I can count." He angled his sword handle forward so that he could rest his hands on it. "Marrying you now binds the alliance into place. I'll put a child in you then we will finish this war."

"I am a maiden, my Prince, but even I know it takes time to make, grow, and birth a child. Time we do not have."

He leaned down, his face only a couple inches from hers. "I will not put you in harm's way. Tomorrow, you could be struck down. Then what? The alliance would be dead and I would have no use of any of you."

"I have been fighting for three years and I am still here."

"Foolish arrogance," he said. "I will not risk it."

Alyssa grabbed his inner arm. He looked down at her hand, his brows furrowing in a mix of astonishment and outrage. "With Dorne fighting with us, the risk is greatly reduced. My attention would be focused solely on the Triarchy corsairs, not Dornish soldiers. The very thought of your men supporting us, supporting me eases my own worry. You know I am right when I saw we must deal with the Crabfeeder now."

Qoren's face softened into an unreadable expression. He stared at her, his dark eyes a mysterious abyss. As the seconds ticked by, Alyssa began to fear the worst. Then finally he spoke. "We will wed first. Then...together...we will end Drahar once and for all."

Alyssa took a half-step back and held out her hand. "Agreed."

Qoren shook her hand. "Agreed."

End of Chapter 3

Author's Note: I imagine Prince Qoren looking like Diego Luna. :)