Chapter 5

Author's Note: Thank y'all for the reviews! It means so much! :)

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

Outskirts of Sunspear, 116 AC...

Princess Alyssa held a torch as she entered the dark cave. Sand crunched beneath her feet and she was careful not to slip. Two Martell guards flanked her, holding torches of their own. Their wide eyes studied the darkness, looking for any sign of movement. Alyssa stopped and turned to face them. "Why don't you two return to the mouth of the cave? I can handle this myself."

"We are sworn to protect you, Princess."

"Yes, but your fear is so strong that even I can smell it," she said. "There is nothing in here save for my dragon. I am safe. Wait for me at the mouth."

"But-"

"Go." She did not wait for a response. Alyssa continued on into the cave. Qoren had told her the entire population of Sunspear hid in these caves during the first Dornish War. They huddled together and watched as dragon fire burned their city to the ground. Now, it was where Starfyre had made her nest.

Alyssa turned left and came across a dark egg sack, still smoking. Still fresh. She set her bag down, pulling out a small pickaxe. Dragon eggs were harder than steel and the sack itself could solidify, permanently entrapping the eggs if they were not retrieved in time. Alyssa worked quickly, freeing one egg and then the rest. Four eggs...interesting. She wiped the eggs down as best she could and placed them in her bag. There was a soft rumbling further into the cave. "Starfyre? Are you there?"

The rumbling stopped. Alyssa smiled to herself. Starfyre was often cranky after laying eggs. Acting as if was the most terrible inconvenience. With the eggs secured, Alyssa grabbed her torch and stood. She felt a blow to her side and groaned. Alyssa placed her free hand on her belly. "Take it easy in there."

The Martell guards breathed a sigh of relief as she exited the cave. It was early in the morning, hours before the sun would rise. Alyssa approached the special-made carriage. It held a special compartment on the back. A servant opened it up. Inside, coals roasted. The servant poked at the coals, making sure the heat was evenly distributed. Alyssa placed the eggs inside, gently settling them into place. "Rest."

The servant locked the compartment. To the untrained eye, it looked like any other platform for the footmen to stand upon. A Martell guard helped her inside and Alyssa settled amongst the cushions. She rubbed her sore ankles, groaning in relief. Based on the maester's calculations, Alyssa was in the fourth month of her pregnancy. The first trimester was easy. The smell of duck made her queasy, but otherwise no major symptoms. And Qoren couldn't get enough of her growing belly. "My future dragonrider," he would whisper to their unborn child.

The ride back to the palace was uneventful. Merchants were setting up their stalls, fishermen were preparing their boats and fishing lines. Sunspear was a grand and old city. Alyssa found it fascinating how Dorne had bounced back from numerous Targaryen invasions. The carriage rolled past the main entrance to one of the side entrances that led to a small, secluded courtyard. Qoren was waiting for her, leaning against the frame of the entrance. He approached the carriage and helped Alyssa step out. "Welcome back, my love."

She kissed him. His hands immediately went to her belly. "I'm relieved to see you both safe."

"Of course," she said, rubbing his arms. "Starfyre would never harm me."

Qoren watched the servants open up the secret compartment to move the eggs to the large, portable brazier. "How many did she lay this time?"

"Four." Alyssa watched the servants move the eggs. "I know it's risky to retrieve them while my cousin is here, but I feared leaving them be for too long would be riskier."

Qoren studied his wife's face. "And these eggs will stay?"

"These and all that comes after will stay, my love." She grabbed his hand and led him inside. "I understand your disappointment about the first clutch-"

"Disappointment?" He scoffed, stopping on the steps. "You sent away the first dragon eggs laid in Dorne without a second thought. How is that fair to our unborn child?"

Alyssa looked around to make sure no one was listening. "I told you...there is more than one way to bond with a dragon. If the eggs here do not hatch, perhaps the ones sent to Dragonstone will. Better yet, we could visit the island. When our children are old enough, they could claim a dragon. Vermithor, Silverwing, Dreamfyre...they have no riders."

"Yet you told your uncle that you would never let that happen," he reminded.

"I told the king what he needed to hear. To protect us from his ire." Alyssa stepped down closer to him. She cupped his face in her hands. "I have never lied to you, Qoren. Yes, we have Starfyre, but my uncle? He commands eight dragons. One of those being Vhagar. I will do or say what I must to protect our family."

Qoren pressed his hand to her belly. "You do not have to carry this burden alone, my love. Let me help you."

Alyssa kissed him. When she pulled away, Qoren brought her back for another kiss. She slid her hands down his arms to his hands. "Come, let us get ready. The suitors are waiting to meet the future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms."

Reception room...

Princess Rhaenyra sat in the center of the couch and fiddled with her rings. Alyssa sat next to her, eating some blueberries. Ser Criston was behind them while Prince Qoren sat in a rather ornate chair. Across from Rhaenyra, young Ser Myles Uller was boasting of his great exploits across the Narrow Sea. "You should see the great walls of Volantis, Princess. They are truly a marvel."

"Tell me, Ser, was this before or after you battled the pirates near Basilisk Isles?" Rhaenyra asked.

Ser Myles thought for a moment. "It was before. No. Yes! Yes, it was before."

"And you are how old?"

"Twenty."

She narrowed her eyes, a smirk appearing on her face. "Curious how you managed to travel the east for three years, apprenticed with the Qarthi sailors for four years, and sailed with the Ibbenese for another two all before fighting pirates from the Basilisk Isles at the age of twelve. Not to mention, traversing the lost city of Yeen?"

"Rhaenyra," Alyssa scolded. The princess looked at her cousin innocently, shrugging.

Ser Myles raised his chin. "You should visit Hellholt sometime, Princess. A wondrous place that lies in the heart of the desert. I'd be happy to give you a personal tour. Show you the best spot to look over the Brimstone, see the wild stallions of the desert...or see the scorpion that brought down Meraxes."

Rhaenyra's smirk fell from her face. Alyssa set her bowl of blueberries down on the table between them. The young Uller flicked his gaze back and forth between the two Targaryens staring him down. Qoren cleared his throat. "Best be on your way, Ser Myles. I cannot promise you shall keep your tongue should you stay."

Ser Myles promptly stood up. He bowed to Qoren and then the women. He opened his mouth to say something else, but then thought better and left. Rhaenyra pressed her lips into a tight line and glared at the Prince. "Is that all Dorne has to offer? Liars and snakes who love to remind me of the death of my ancestor?"

"Enough, Rhaenyra," Alyssa said, grabbing her cousin's arm. "Prince Qoren and I went through great efforts to gather suitors from all across Dorne for you."

"Oh, did you? Begged on your knees?" Rhaenyra yanked her arm free. Her eyes flicked to Alyssa's stomach for a brief moment. "Let's just get on with it."

Alyssa rolled her eyes and glanced over at Qoren. He raised his hands in defeat as if to say "you deal with her". He signaled for the next suitor to enter. A boy no more than ten walked in. He wore dark robes of green and yellow. "Lord Olyvar of House Toland," announced the steward.

Rhaenyra scoffed. "A child?"

"I am the eldest son of Lady Toland of Ghost Hill, Princess," Olyvar said proudly. "Our house was founded during the time of the Andal adventurers."

Rhaenyra only hummed. She looked back at Alyssa. "Great efforts, you say?"

Alyssa smiled at Olyvar. "Please forgive her, my lord. The Princess has had a long day."

"If the Princess has no interest in meeting us, why is she even here?" the boy asked.

"Good question," Rhaenyra agreed.

She got to her feet, but Alyssa grasped her wrist. "Sit down, Rhaenyra. Lord Olyvar has traveled a long way to see you. All of the suitors have."

"There is no need, Princess Alyssa," Olyvar said. "You are a kind and considerate host. Gracious. Unlike your cousin."

Rhaenyra wrangled herself free and stormed out of the room, Ser Criston hot on her heels. Prince Qoren rubbed his forehead as his wife took off after them. He looked at Olyvar and raised his cup. "Come, Lord Toland. Tell me, how is your dear mother?"

In the halls, Ser Criston marched behind Rhaenyra. He was pretty sure the princess had no idea where she was going, but he dare not say a thing when her fury raged. Alyssa caught up with them quickly. She had one hand on her stomach, careful not to bounce the baby too much. "Rhaenyra!"

"Leave me be!"

Somehow, Rhaenyra managed to find her room. She shoved the doors open and swiftly turned to slam them closed once Ser Criston entered. Alyssa burst inside before she had a chance to lock the door. Three Martell guards arrived as well, standing at the ready. Ser Criston reached for his sword. Alyssa hadn't realized the guards followed her. "All of you out. Now!"

The guards exchanged glances and then slowly backed out of the room. Ser Criston turned to Rhaenyra who nodded for him to leave as well. The Kingsguard removed his hand from his sword and left the room. Once the door closed, Alyssa whirled around to Rhaenyra. "How dare you."

"Why are you mad?" she spat. "I'm the one who has to suffer endless droves of suitors that are no better than the snakes in the sand. Ser Otto was right about one thing...Dorne is a nest of vipers."

"You haven't given a single one of them a chance. They can barely get a word without you berating or belittling them," Alyssa pointed out. "You are either purposefully finding fault or have no intention of taking a husband."

"Astute observation."

Alyssa inhaled sharply. She marched over to her cousin, pushing her shoulder to make her meet her furious gaze. "This is not one of the great realms pledged to House Targaryen, Rhaenyra. This is Dorne. They have no love or loyalty to the Seven Kingdoms. No reason to take your rudeness in stride."

"I care little of what those vultures out there think." Rhaenyra placed her hands on her hips. "Those men and boys do not care who I am. They would happily climb over me to sit on the Iron Throne."

"Which is why you must take this seriously," Alyssa stressed. "Find a man who would support you and defend your birthright."

"Is that what Prince Qoren is doing for you?"

"Do not bring my husband into this," she warned. "This isn't about me. It's about you."

Rhaenyra shook her head. "How can you resign yourself to such a fate, cousin? You were fighting in a war, riding Starfyre like Visenya rode Vhagar..." she gestured to Alyssa's belly "...now you gamble with the Stranger."

"I am not a prisoner. It was my choice to marry Qoren. It was my choice to bear his children."

"I don't have that choice," she pointed out.

Alyssa laughed. "Look at where you are. All the noble houses of Dorne sent suitors for you to choose from. You've gone to the Vale, the Westerlands...every man in Westeros is presenting himself to you and you have the right to say yes or no. Where in that is not a choice?"

"You don't understand..."

"Oh, I do understand." Alyssa stepped closer. "The king could have and still could choose your husband for you."

"None of these men are worthy to be my King Consort," she said, backing away to glare out the window. "Old men, boys, liars, schemers...that is all that is presented to me. If it were truly my choice, I would marry for love not advantage."

"All royal marriages are advantageous, cousin," Alyssa said softly. She went to Rhaenyra's side, placing her hand on her cousin's shoulder. "But...that does not mean it can't be a love match as well. I didn't love Qoren when we were wed. We had only just met the day before."

Rhaenyra raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Admittedly, there was a sort of connection," Alyssa continued, "but we took our time to get to know one another. Love came naturally. It could be the same for you."

Rhaenyra's shoulders fell and she lowered her head. "I fear no one takes my status as heir seriously. My father swore to uphold my claim, but...whispers and gossip follow me everywhere. They say Aegon should be the heir."

"Forgive my biases, but perhaps you should marry a Dornish lord." Rhaenyra rolled her eyes. "No, listen to me. Dorne honors primogeniture regardless of gender. Any one of them would defend you."

"They are-"

"You have to let go of the past, Rhaenyra," Alyssa said. "It's been over a hundred years since the death of Rhaenys and Meraxes. The world has moved on. Dorne has moved on. They suffered enough under Aegon and Visenya's wrath."

"You believe they accept you as Prince Qoren's consort?"

"They do," she said. "There's no need for you to struggle so much. You will be Queen of the Seven Kingdoms one day. Choose your consort or let one be chosen for you, it doesn't matter. What matters is what you do to prepare yourself when the crown is placed upon your head."

Rhaenyra turned away to hide her teary eyes. "Curse you, you sound just like my father."

Alyssa grabbed Rhaenyra's hands, forcing her cousin to face her once again. "Everything I've said comes from my love for you and a desire to see you succeed. You told me once that you would always be my ally. I swear to you the same, cousin."

Rhaenyra smiled through her tears, holding onto Alyssa's hands tightly. "I know. I'm grateful for your love." She sighed. "I do not think I shall find a husband here."

The next day...

Alyssa stood on the balcony of the apartments she shared with Qoren. Rhaenyra's ship was making its way east, heading towards the Stepstones to sail back home. It pained Alyssa to see her cousin depart so early. What was supposed to be a nine-day visit ended after only three. She felt Qoren approach from behind. His hands rubbed her upper arms and he placed a kiss atop her head. "I do not envy the man your cousin eventually chooses to marry."

Alyssa snorted. "Neither do I."

"In truth, she is not ready to marry," he said, sliding his hands around her to her belly. "You two are the same age but you have greater wisdom."

"That's not it. She's still grieving her mother." She placed her hands over his. "The king remarried so quickly. And to Alicent of all people."

"Who?"

"An old friend. She grew up with Rhaenyra and I...we were always together. Feels like a lifetime ago."

Qoren brushed her hair aside to kiss her cheek. "Perhaps it is loneliness. You are here in Dorne, Alison has married her father...I might feel the same if I were in her position."

"Fortunate for me, you are not. And her name is Alicent."

"Let us talk about happier things, my love," he said. "We haven't discussed names for our child. Do you have any favorites?"

Alyssa turned in his arms to face him, draping her arms around his neck. "I do, actually. Let's see...Daena or Visenya for a girl, perhaps. Gaemon for a boy-"

"Gaemon?" he scoffed.

"Yes, Gaemon. After Gaemon the Glorious, one of my ancestors. He kept the peace in the Narrow Sea after the Doom."

Qoren brushed her curls from her face, soothing her frown. "Our children will be Martells, my love, and should honor their Dornish ancestors. It has always been my wish to name a son after my father, Prince Qyle Martell."

"Oh, yes, all hail the dragonrider Qyle."

"Sounds rather intimidating to me. My father was a skilled warrior." Alyssa attempted to leave, but Qoren kept his arms around her. "Is it so wrong to want our children to bear Dornish names? Alyssa is not a traditional Valyrian one."

"I should give you nothing but girls to spite you."

Qoren laughed. "And if you do, I shall love them all-" he kissed her "-and their Dornish names."

He kissed her again before she could argue. Alyssa moaned into their kiss, sliding her hands from his neck up into his hair. Their kiss intensified and Qoren ran his hands down her back to cup her backside. Then she suddenly pulled away. "I do hope Rhaenyra chooses someone soon. I'd rather attend the wedding before our child is born."

Qoren blinked, trying to process her words as she grabbed his hand and led him inside. "Where are we going?"

"To the bed," she said with a coy smile. "To finish what we started."

King's Landing, two months later...

"It is with great pleasure that his grace, Viserys Targaryen, announces the start of the royal wedding celebrations!"

Rhaenyra sat beside her father at the head table, greeting the wedding guests. Lord Lyonel sat to the king's right one chair over. Alicent was late. Rhaenyra felt confident and nervous at the same time. This was only the welcome feast, but so many lords had turned up to celebrate her wedding to Ser Laenor Velaryon. Local houses were introduced first. House Bar Emmon, House Celtigar, Darklyn and Rosby, Stokeworth and Massey. Rhaenyra was honored by the arrival of Houses Arryn, Tully, and Baratheon. House Manderly sent the respects of the Northern houses who could not travel due to winter arriving. "Please send Lord Stark our thanks," King Viserys said.

"Of course, your grace. And congratulations once again, Princess." Lord Manderly bowed and stepped aside to take his seat.

"House Lannister with their lord, Jason Lannister! Warden of the West and Lord of Casterly Rock!"

Rhaenyra rolled her eyes. Lord Jason Lannister sauntered up to the head table, bowing respectfully to the king. "Congratulations, your grace. You have made a fine match for the princess."

"Thank you, Lord Jason," Rhaenyra said with a polite smile. "I can think of no better man than Ser Laenor."

"Well...if this is only the welcome feast, I cannot imagine what you have planned for the wedding," Jason said, ignoring the line of other lords behind him.

"Well, my daughter is the future Queen," Viserys said. "I wanted this to be a wedding for the histories."

Lord Jason nodded to the empty seat beside the king. "Where is the Queen? I had hoped to pay my respects."

Viserys looked at the chair for a moment with a thin smile. "I understand the Queen is still readying herself for tonight's celebrations."

"This is why men wage war...because women would never be-"

Loud drums overpowered Lord Jason's words. All eyes turned to the entrance. "Prince Qoren Nymeros Martell! Ruling Prince of Dorne, Lord of Sunspear! And his lady wife, Princess Alyssa Targaryen!"

Prince Qoren held Princess Alyssa's hand as they descended the steps. He wore a pale cream robe embroidered with gold Martell suns, secured by a dark gold sash at his waist. His coast was deep brown velvet with shiny red suns and stars all over. Alyssa wore a traditional Dornish dress. A black velvet gown with red dragons detailed all along the hems and sleeves. An ornate leather belt sat above her round belly. And her hair was braided and coiled back into a silver hairpiece with rubies hanging off of it. The lord and ladies watched the Prince and Princess Consort cross the great hall to the head table. King Viserys and Rhaenyra stood, and together they all bowed. "We are honored by your presence, Prince Qoren, Princess Alyssa."

"We are honored to celebrate this momentous occasion," Qoren said.

Viserys gestured to the chairs beside Lord Lyonel. "Please, join us."

The cousins exchanged secret smiles. Alyssa followed Qoren around the head table. Lord Lyonel Strong bowed before them. "Prince Qoren, it is an honor to finally meet you and to see you again, Princess Alyssa. I never got the chance to congratulate you on your marriage. Allow me to do so now."

"Thank you, my lord." She gestured to the pin on his chest. "Congratulations to you as well. Your promotion is well deserved."

"You honor me, Princess."

Prince Qoren pulled the chair at the end for Alyssa, scooting it into place. Lyonel went back to his seat and Prince Qoren sat in between the Hand of the King and his wife. Alyssa leaned back in her chair as Qoren and Lyonel delved into political discussions. She looked past the men and found Rhaenyra looking back at her. Their silent conversation resumed. You look beautiful, Rhaenyra told her cousin. As do you, Alyssa returned.

"Lord Corlys Velaryon! Lord of the Tides, Lord of Driftmark! And his lady wife, Princess Rhaenys Targaryen! And their son and heir, Ser Laenor Velaryon, future King Consort!"

House Velaryon strolled into the great hall, all adorned in lavish robes of black and gold. Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys stepped up to the head table, bowing respectfully to their king. They stepped aside to head to their seats near Rhaenyra. Ser Laenor stepped up, bowing while his sister, Laena, and uncle, Ser Vaemond, did the same behind him. Rhaenyra got up and walked around to approach Laenor. He took her hand and placed a kiss upon it. "My betrothed."

"My betrothed," she greeted.

The hall applauded. Rhaenyra led Laenor to the seat beside hers. Vaemond and Laena sat at the end of the head table. Alyssa noticed a familiar face amongst the Velaryons. Ser Joffrey Lonmouth nodded her way, winking. Qoren noticed. He leaned in to whisper in her ear. "An old suitor?"

She chuckled. "An old comrade."

As the applause died down, King Viserys stood. He greeted the guests with a bright smile, delighted to see them all. He opened his mouth to speak but his voice failed him. His smile fell upon seeing one more guest enter the great hall. Prince Daemon sauntered inside, a smirk on his face as the lords and ladies whispered amongst themselves at his presence. His long hair had been cut short and he wore a black best styled like dragon scales over a red silk tunic. The Rogue Prince approached the head table and bowed to his brother. Viserys stared at him incredulously.

After a long moment, he waved to one of the servants hiding in the shadows. A spare chair was brought forth and set at the end of the table, opposite Ser Vaemond and Laena. Daemon smiled, saying nothing as he plopped into the chair. He greeted Alyssa with a kiss on her hand and Prince Qoren with a bow of his head. King Viserys signed, scratching his eyebrow. "Be welcome," he began, "as we join together in celebration. Tonight is only the beginning. We honor the crown's oldest and fiercest ally, House Velaryon."

He gestured to Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys who gave him smiles of appreciation. "Reaching back to the days of Old Valyria and the Age of Dragons. With House Targaryen and House..." his voice trailed off.

King Viserys' smile fell once more. Everyone's eyes and heads turned back to the hall entrance. Queen Alicent Hightower stood in a grand gown of deep green. Her dark curls piled high on her head as befitting a queen. Her face was poised as she descended the steps and leisurely made her way down the hall. The guests stood in respect to their queen, save for the rulers of Dorne and Prince Daemon. Alyssa watched Alicent rigidly. Their eyes met for a brief moment as Alicent rounded the table. The Queen regarded her old friend coolly. And when the connection broke, Alyssa shook off the exchange with indifference. Alicent greeted Rhaenyra with a polite nod. "Congratulations, Stepdaughter. What a blessing this is for you."

Rhaenyra could only stare back in shock. Alicent kissed her husband on his cheek and took her place at his side. Viserys stared at his wife who did not meet his gaze for the longest time. He cleared his throat. "Please be seated!"

The guests obeyed. King Viserys looked to Lord Lyonel and whispered, "where was I?"

"The joining of the two houses, your grace."

"Yes, yes." King Viserys collected himself. Rhaenyra squeezed his hand reassuringly. "With House Targaryen and House Velaryon united, I hope to herald in a second Age of Dragons in Westeros."

Applause erupted once again. "And after tonight's small affair..." a few laughs followed "...seven days of tournaments and feasting. At the end of it all, a royal wedding...between my daughter, my heir...your future Queen...and Ser Laenor Velaryon, heir to Driftmark!"

The feasting commenced. King Viserys plopped down in his chair, already exhausted. The musicians began with soft, comforting music as servants brought out dishes of lamb shoulder, roasted pork, and fresh seafood. Daemon ignored the food laid out before them, opting to sip on the wine. He studied his daughter, admiring her gown. He leaned back in his chair, noticing her belly. He smiled proudly at Alyssa. "You look beautiful, daughter."

She beamed back at him, rubbing her belly. "My child is due three moons from now. Come visit Sunspear to meet your grandchild when they are born."

"Will you take your newborn with you to fly on Starfyre as I did with you on Caraxes? As my mother did with me on Meleys?" he asked. He placed his hand on her belly. The baby kicked at his hand, causing Daemon to laugh. "A future dragonrider indeed."

Alyssa placed a finger to her lips, a sly smile on her face. She turned her attention to the man approaching the table. He was older, wearing bronze armor under a dark coat. "Ser Gerold Royce." He bowed his head solemnly. "My condolences to you, Princess."

She stared at him for a moment until the realization came to her. "Oh. Thank you. I'm sure my mother will be sorely missed."

"Yes, Lady Rhea was a unique character. Taken from us far too soon," he said. His eyes shifted to Daemon. "But the Vale is a place where no crime goes unpunished. Justice prevails."

"Oh, I do hope my late lady wife's horse isn't punished too harshly," the widower said. "Such a tragic accident. I'm positively bereft."

Ser Gerold took a step forward. "You know very well, it was no accident."

"Are you confessing some guilt, Ser Gerold?"

"I am making an accusation," the knight declared.

"In King's Landing, unfounded accusations and slander are taken very seriously, Ser," Alyssa said, surprising the bronze knight. "Especially ones made against a member of the royal family."

Daemon placed his hand on her arm to silence her. "I believe in divine justice, Ser Gerold. As our only child, Princess Alyssa was, by the laws of gods and men, the rightful heir to Runestone. Lady Rhea, may the gods rest her soul, stole that inheritance from our daughter and gave it to her nephew." He shrugged. "Justice prevails."

Ser Gerold's face turned red. He opened his mouth to say something, but Prince Qoren spoke first. "This is a wedding, is it not? A time to celebrate young love. I would think an anointed knight would not want to sully such a happy occasion with talks of death and treason."

The bronze knight blinked through his fury. His eyes flicked from Qoren to Alyssa, to Daemon to Lord Lyonel. He pursed his lips and turned away, his coat twirling around him as he stormed back to his seat. Daemon snickered, taking another sip of his wine. He noticed Alyssa staring at him peculiarly and shrugged it off. Alyssa studied her father for several moments, the gears in her mind turning. The music changed to a soft, upbeat tune and Alyssa decided to turn her attention to the dance floor. Rhaenyra and Laenor began a courtship dance. Twirling around each other like birds in flight. A beautiful tradition to mark the beginning of their marriage.

Other guests joined in the dance. Laena followed Ser Joffrey, and Qoren took Alyssa's hand. Alyssa smiled as she twirled about the dance floor, passing by Rhaenyra. The cousins giggled and smiled at one another. Qoren danced with both of them, exchanging the princesses between himself and Ser Laenor. When the future King Consort chose to step away for a break, Ser Harwin Strong happily took his place. Breakbones took each princess' hand, twirling them to him and then away. The Targaryen women laughed. Qoren slipped through the crowd to grab his cup of wine, keeping an eye on Alyssa. "Prince Qoren," said a soft voice. A thin man with dark hair bowed to Qoren. "It is an honor."

Qoren noticed the cane and the man's large, twisted foot. "Thank you, Lord...?"

"Larys Strong, my Prince. The King's Lord Confessor." The son of the Hand glanced over at the head table, noting his father speaking to Lord Horbert Hightower. "If it is not too forward, I was hoping to hear the story of you and Princess Alyssa?"

"The story?"

"Oh, yes," Larys leaned closer. "When word arrived of the Princess' marriage to you, the Prince of Dorne...well, it was controversial. Many feared - forgive me, my Prince - feared that she had been forced into the match. That Prince Daemon grew so desperate to end the fighting in the Stepstones that he offered up his only child."

"And I am the monster that has trapped the feeble princess within my castle?"

"Imaginations can run rampant. I only ask for the truth of it. Clarification to ease curious minds if you will," the Lord Confessor said. "When the princess arrived unannounced to inform the king of her marriage, of her own volition apparently and without your knowledge-"

"I wasn't aware that the Lord Confessor's duties went beyond the torture of criminals," Qoren interjected. "Perhaps the customs here are different than in Dorne. Is it common for the Hand of the King to task his son with foreign diplomacy? Seems rather inappropriate."

"Apologies if I have offended you, Prince Qoren." Larys seemed to cower, his shoulders turned inward. "I'm only making conversation."

"Words are like arrows, Lord Confessor. Take care how you use them." Qoren took a sip of his wine and walked away.

On the dance floor, Alyssa held hands with Laena as they spun in fast circles. Daeron, Ser Vaemond's son, joined in alongside Ser Harwin. Alyssa released her cousin, placing her hands on the bottom of her belly to brace herself as they hopped in tandem with the drums. Her heart was racing with excitement. She had missed this, Joyful laughter filling the hall from grand celebrations in the home she had grown up in. Ser Joffrey passed by her, congratulating her on her handsome husband and unborn child. "Jealous?" she teased.

"Not at all," he said. "For I have the heart of the finest warrior in the Seven Kingdoms."

Laenor appeared, wrapping his arms around the both of them. "What conspiracies are you two hatching?"

Alyssa placed her hand on Laenor's cheek. "You must come and visit me after the wedding, cousin. Perhaps we all could fly over the desert and see the Red Mountains and the Tor?"

"If only my sworn protector didn't get air-sick when on dragonback, I'd happily oblige," he said.

"That was one time!"

"Seasmoke still stinks of the chowder you showered him with."

The three of them erupted into laughter. Lord Celtigar tapped Alyssa on the shoulder, offering his hand for a dance. The princess bid her friends farewell and took the lord's hand. Time seemed to slip away. More guests joined in the dancing. Alyssa found Laena once again before dancing with the son of Lord Darklyn. A flash of white and gold in the corner of her eye drew her attention. Her eyes searched for her cousin. It had been some time since she had seen her cousin amidst the dancing. Alyssa weaved through the crowd, occasionally seeing a peek of silver hair studded with rubies. She excused herself and squeezed through a cluster of people. Once free, her smile vanished. Daemon and Rhaenyra stood barely an inch apart. Their noses almost touching. Rhaenyra said something and Daemon grabbed the side of her neck, forcing her face to his.

Instinct drove Alyssa forward. Before their lips could touch, Alyssa grabbed her father's wrist, pulling him off Rhaenyra. Daemon's eyes blazed with fury for a moment until he saw it was Alyssa that had ahold of him. Rhaenyra recoiled from Daemon, her eyes flicking back and forth between her cousin and uncle. All three Targaryens exchanged glances of confusion, anger, and fear. Alyssa released her father. Daemon's glare intensified as he stared her down, but Alyssa did not yield. The Rogue Prince shot Rhaenyra one last look before storming off. Rhaenyra motioned to follow but stopped herself. She turned back to Alyssa, shame beginning to crawl up her body the longer her cousin stared at her. "I...I can explain."

"Please do," Alyssa said.

Before Rhaenyra could muster an answer, a scream pierced through the great hall. The music stopped and more screams followed. Near the doors, the crowd gathered around two men fighting. Alyssa and Rhaenyra were suddenly shoved to and fro as the guests headed for the door. The guards entered the great hall, blocking the only exit. Rhaenyra was shoved against a table. She slipped and fell onto her knees. More people rushed past her and she clung to a chair so as to not get swept away or crushed. Someone ran into Alyssa. She lost her balance, hands flailing for something to grab onto. Strong arms caught her just before she fell flat on her back. Ser Harwin helped the Princess stand upright. He kept one arm wrapped around her shoulders and cleared a path out of the crowd back to the head table. Qoren rushed over. "Alyssa! My love, are you hurt?"

"I'm fine. I'm fine," she assured him, hugging Qoren tightly. Alyssa glanced back at her savior. "Thank you, Ser Harwin."

Breakbones bowed his head. "Of course, Princess."

The fighting continued. The crowd pushed back from the men. Ser Criston slammed his fist against Ser Laenor, the force sending the heir of Driftmark crashing into someone else. That lord grabbed Ser Laenor and threw him on the table. Ser Criston then pounced on his second victim. "Stop this!" Lord Lyonel ordered.

"Where's Rhaenyra?" King Viserys asked, searching through the crowd. "Where's Rhaenyra?!"

Lord Lyonel nodded to his son. Ser Harwin dove back into the mass, punching any and all who stood in his way. The Martell retinue had gathered around their Prince and Princess, surrounding them protectively. Alyssa craned her neck, trying to see who Ser Criston was beating on with such fury. Ser Harwin reappeared with Rhaenyra unceremoniously slung over his shoulder. She pounded on his back, ordering him to put her down. The guards broke through the crowd, quelling the smaller scuffles that had broken out. The screams died down. Ser Criston stood up, his face and armor splattered with blood. He backed away from the broken body on the floor and disappeared with the guests as they were escorted from the hall by the guards.

Laenor rubbed his head as he pushed himself up. His eyes fell on the dead man lying in a pool of blood. He noticed the gold ring on the man's right hand. Laenor crawled towards the body, his lover's blond hair now dyed red. He turned Ser Joffrey's face up and broke out in cries of anguish at the sight. "Nooooo!"

That night...

Alyssa stared up at the ceiling. Her mind reeled with numerous thoughts over the events of the evening. She glanced over at Qoren who was fast asleep. He preferred to sleep on his stomach, hugging his pillow to his body. Alyssa was a bit envious. She hadn't been able to sleep on her stomach for months. She tried to close her eyes and will sleep to come, but it remained elusive. Fed up, Alyssa got up. She put on her robe and went to the fireplace. Checking once more that Qoren was asleep, Alyssa pushed against the portrait to the left of the fireplace. It opened and she slipped into the hall. As honored guests and foreign dignitaries, their room was on the lower levels near the western entrance to Maegor's Holdfast. Alyssa took the secret path to the bridge and entered the inner castle as quietly as a cat.

She turned left to avoid the main hall and entered a small closet where the servants hid their cleaning supplies for this section of the castle. Another hidden door led her into a secret stairwell. It was a bit of a gamble, but she had a feeling the person she was searching for was in his old room. Alyssa had to stop a couple of times to catch her breath. The stairs were steep and narrow and already her back ached. Finally, she reached a short hallway. She pulled on the door hidden as another portrait. The room was well-lit with candles and the fireplace roared. Good. He's awake.

She crossed the sitting area and rounded the short wall to the bed. Immediately, she regretted it. Daemon was atop Laena Velaryon, his hands in her hair. Alyssa half-turned away, her ears unwillingly filled with the sound of their moans and kissing. "I need to speak with you, Father."

Laena gasped. Daemon reluctantly rolled off of her. "What are you doing here, Alyssa? This is highly inappropriate."

"Indeed," she said, keeping her eyes on the windows. "Inappropriate to be alone with a young maiden during the Hour of the Wolf."

Laena smoothed the skirt of her dress as she got off the bed. "Princess, we were just - I mean, your father graciously saved me from being crushed by the unruly guests. We lost track of time and-"

"You should see to your brother, Lady Laena," Alyssa said, meeting her cousin's gaze. "I'm sure he would appreciate the comfort of close family right about now."

Laena furrowed her eyebrows. "Has something happened?"

"Ser Joffrey is dead."

Laena's eyes went wide and she bolted for the door, ignoring Daemon calling after her. Without another word, she swept out the door. Daemon sighed and met Alyssa's glare. "How'd you even get in here?"

"The back stairs."

He snorted and slid off the bed. "And you couldn't wait until the morning to bother me with whatever it is you've come to talk about?"

"It cannot." Alyssa studied him for a moment, watching him button up his vest. "Tell me the truth about my mother."

"What truth?"

"Of what happened. Despite what my mother was, she was a skilled rider. Competed in many races and equestrian tournaments," she said. "And she falls from her horse, skull crushed?"

"It was a tragic accident, Alyssa, nothing more," he said dismissively. "Ladies fall from their horses all the time."

"You don't find the timing a bit strange? Your wife brutally dies just before Rhaenyra's wedding?" Alyssa approached her father. "I had always suspected there was something more than familial love between the two of you."

"Don't be so surprised," he spat. "We're Valyrian. It's in our nature."

Alyssa scoffed. "Your entitlement knows no bounds, Father."

Daemon frowned, taken aback. "Entitlement? It is about what I deserve. A true Valyrian bride, Dragonstone, the crown...by all rights, it is and should be mine!"

"And Rhaenyra is just a means to an end-"

"Go away. I will hear no more."

"-and it's why you killed my mother."

Daemon stared at her, half of his face hidden in shadows. "It was an accident, Alyssa."

She shook her head slowly. "I know you. Better than anyone. And part of me wanted to believe that you did it out of love for me-"

"She never loved you," he said quietly, his tone unassumingly quiet and level. "She sought to control you, squash your spirit, and turn you away from House Targaryen altogether. I saved you from a lifetime of misery and darkness. Look at you, Alyssa. You thrived because of me. You are a warrior because of me. You are Princess of Dorne because of me."

"I am Princess of Dorne because of me," she corrected, standing firm as Daemon approached her. "You can lie all you want, but I know that you killed my mother for your own selfish reasons. And fuck you for using me as an excuse."

Daemon grabbed her by the neck, his fingers pressing hard against her throat. Alyssa clawed at his hand as he brought her close. "Princess of Dorne or not, I am still your father. I had my selfish reasons, yes, but do not dare to presume you are innocent in this. You provided me with the ship to Runestone. You gave me her last letter to you. You've always known what I'm capable of, my dear. And you are no diff-!"

Alyssa drove her knee into his groin. Daemon let go of her, dropping to his knees as his hands went to his injury. Alyssa backed away from him, rubbing her neck. Tears in her eyes as she watched him groan in pain. She composed herself, clearing her throat and ignoring the flares of pain. "For the love I bear you, I will forgive you this one time, Father," she said. "Lay your hands on me again and I will cut them off and feed them to my dragon."

She turned on her heels and headed for the door. "Alys...Alyssa," Daemon called. Alyssa paused, her hand hovering over the door handle. The soft part of her begged to turn around and run to her father. She heard him groan again, calling her name. Alyssa swallowed her doubts and opened the door.

End of Chapter 5

Author's Note: I've sort of imagined Dornish clothing to be inspired by Turkish/Ottoman styles.