Fragment: Blessing
Dyanna
"He's beautiful, is he not?" Dyanna whispered at her hard-faced husband, who did not bat an eye as he looked at his newborn son.
In truth, their second son was not especially beautiful. Like all babies, he was wrinkled and ruddy. But he had his father's purple eyes and his hair, the beautiful silver with a hint of gold. She loved Daeron, but the boy was too much alike to her and not enough to Maekar.
Sandy like the Dornish, she had heard the whispers. Even when the queen was a Martell, even when the heir of the Iron Throne also looked more Dornish than Valyrian, people of the court would never stop gossiping about her. The Dornish whore married the prince with a babe in her belly, they would say, pointing at the loose dresses she used to favour.
More than once, she regretted dancing with Maekar the day they met. Hundreds of noble girls in the feast, why did she think she had to be the one to catch the prince's eyes? Just because she was pretty?
…She was pretty, there was no doubt about that, even now after two births. But to be a prince's wife, pretty was not enough.
It was the fancy of a foolish little girl, believing herself to be the fairest maiden in the whole Westeros. Yes, Maekar invited her to dance when she approached. Yes, his eyes had never left her, after the dance and during the feast. Maekar was already a handsome man at that time, young as he was, and Dyanna had thought them to be the envy of the Seven Kingdoms when seen together.
When the betrothal between Maekar and her was made, she felt like the luckiest girl alive. Yet the favour of a prince was a heavier thing than young Dyanna had realised.
She had not known how the King and Queen were looking for a Dornish match for Maekar, to bind the realm closer. She had not known how much the people in King's Landing hated the Dornish and everything from Dorne, blaming them for every misfortune… She thought herself a comet, waiting for the moment she would shine in the sky. But when she burned, she was but a small, insignificant star, her light illumining no one save those closest to her…
She had never thought that the court would be too much for her. She had never thought that she would need to hide in Summerhall, a castle given to her husband because the Queen pitied them. And even here she could not entirely escape the whispers.
Maekar was kind to her in his own way, but he could never be the help Dyanna needed. She was not entirely sure he had noticed how difficult court life was for her. Caring for someone was innately hard for him, and smiling naturally was a foreign concept as well. His affection was delivered in subtle ways, and sometimes she just… wished he could show it more openly.
But now she had a second son, a son that was everything people looked for in a Targaryen prince. That made her at least on par with Baelor's wife Jena, who gave the Prince of Dragonstone two sons as well…
"A fine boy," Maekar finally said, bringing Dyanna's consciousness back to reality, "you have done well, my lady wife."
As stiff as ever, Dyanna thought, smiling wryly. Perhaps noticing her dissatisfaction, Maekar leaned forward and kissed her then, yet it was less heartfelt than it should have felt.
Perhaps she was just hard to please.
"I know that… the last few years haven't been easy for you," Maekar said with difficulty, forcing each syllable out of his throat, "but it'll be better after we present Aerion to court. He will be accepted. And so will you."
Dyanna stared at him. So you do know how it has been for me? She thought somewhat angrily, but her rage was soon washed away by a question. "Aerion?"
"The name of our son," Maekar said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Dyanna suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. "Yes, I know, but why?" she asked tiredly, "I don't know this name." The Targaryens were not always named after famous ancestors, no, but their first child was named after his grandfather the King. Dyanna had thought Maekar, always more traditional and mindful of his heritage than Prince Baelor, would want to give their children the name of a past hero.
The corners of Maekar's lips turned up. "Aerion was the father of Aegon the Conqueror and his sisters," he explained, "Our origin. It's a good name."
Dyanna squeezed her eyes. There were some words Maekar had left unsaid. "Symbolising a new start and a better future for us?"
Maekar nodded. Gods, she wished he would just say it out loud. Why did she have to guess everything?
"If the Gods are good, he'll grow up to be a fine prince and knight," Maekar said, "He need not achieve any great deeds, but be an honest man that serves his brother and cousin well. One day he'll father children of his own, and bring a prosperous future to House Targaryen."
Dyanna could no longer hide her displeasure. "My prince," she said coldly, "Forgive me, but I have hoped that our sons could do many great things." Like you, she would say, but Maekar had not done any great deeds yet. While he was not bookish like Aerys or insane like Rhaegel, he was the shadow of Baelor's light, only getting lesser honours when they attended the same tourneys. But Maekar was so much younger. There would be plenty of chances for him to prove himself.
"Perhaps they will," Maekar's tone was grim. "But it's more important that they grow up safely. War might come to us once again."
"War… once again?" The conquest of Dorne was almost a decade before Dyanna's birth, but she was not unfamiliar with the talks of war. Even in Starfall where the land was rich and mostly unharmed, people spoke of the prospect of another invasion from the Targaryens with fear. In her youth, they endured the uneasy peace forged by King Baelor… and when Dorne joined the Iron Throne, it was a fragile alliance as well.
But Maekar was not talking about war between the Iron Throne and Dorne. No, with the King's marriage to the Queen and Prince Maron to Princess Daenerys, they would never march against each other again. It was someone else…
"You mean Daemon Blackfyre?" Dyanna frowned, "He's merely a bastard, yet he has his own lands, a noble wife, and the sword. Surely he won't be foolish enough to rebel against the crown and lose everything?"
"He will if he thinks he can't lose," Maekar sighed, "Dorne has accepted us, yet not all our lords have accepted Dorne. Daemon will have their support if he rebels. He's favoured by them, and he holds no love for the Martells."
"I have… heard rumours of him and Princess Daenerys," Dyanna said hesitantly, "but even if it's true, surely it's an old flame that has long since died out?" Dyanna did not have much contact with the Princess or Ser Daemon, but Daemon and his wife seemed to be happy the few times they had met. It was just last year that they had their seventh child if she remembered correctly.
…They looked more in love than she and Maekar ever were, except maybe at the start of their marriage, when she still held false expectations for the life of a princess.
Maekar's lips twisted. "It's not about romance. Few men could resist the chance to be king, especially not when people surrounding him keep prodding him on. Eventually, one of them will convince Daemon that he deserves more than a small holdfast, much like his namesake once did."
"Daemon Targaryen never claimed the Iron Throne for himself, as ambitious as he was," Dyanna said, her mind turning, "Only for his niece-wife. Perhaps this is the better choice? To tie Ser Daemon closer to the throne? He has many children."
"Daemon is merely a landed knight," Maekar dismissed her idea, "Valarr and Matarys are too high on the succession to marry a bastard's daughter, and we have no princess to offer him."
Dyanna's brows tied into a knot. Was Maekar waiting for her to bring it up instead of mentioning it himself? "Ser Daemon's oldest daughter is of Valarr's age, but he has a younger one who is closer to our sons. Daeron is to be Prince of Summerhall after you," she lowered her gaze to her newborn son, so small and knew not of the fate he's going to get, "but Aerion is free."
Maekar stared at her. "Are you suggesting that I betroth Daemon's daughter to my son?"
"Our son. And yes, that's what I proposed. Will it be enough to sway him from rebelling?" She did not like the idea, but it was the obvious solution. Dorne joined the Iron Throne for two marriages. What was to say Daemon Blackfyre could not be brought back to the fold with another?
"The second son of a fourth son isn't much of a reward," yet there was a slight flicker in Maekar's eyes, "but I can consider it. It's a delicate matter that my father and Baelor need to be informed about… Even so, I have the impression that you don't want to betroth our children so early, my lady."
It was true. A year ago, when some minor lords tried to present their infant daughters for the newborn Daeron, Dyanna dismissed them outright and stated that she would not hear any case for her son until he was old enough. It was ridiculous to hear people claiming that their babies would be a perfect match for a prince. Even Dyanna could hardly say she was the perfect princess.
…Maekar had insisted on hearing every case, even when he also had no intention of ever accepting them. And it was Dyanna who had to come up with a polite refusal each time, not him.
She stared back at Maekar. "Does it matter what I want?"
"It matters." He pursed his lips, his gaze wavered, "Of course, it matters. I didn't mean to dismiss your opinion."
But you often did. "You always have the final say, my prince. As your wife I'm meant to advise you, not to make decisions for you." That was what she was taught, and she was determined to act like a perfect princess, even when that was not her. She would not let her enemies find another bad thing to say about her.
"Even so, I don't want you to feel neglected. It's your duty to advise me, and mine to hear it," Maekar paused, "My father won't be known as the Good if he doesn't listen to my mother. You have just given birth to my son. It'd be ill of me to disregard your feelings."
Mayhaps, but you're not your father, and I'm not a princess from birth. "You're listening to me now," Dyanna said, biting her lips, "I confess, it unnerves me to think of promising our son to someone when he's not yet a day old. But Aerion won't be taken from us just because we have found him a wife. It's Ser Daemon who must give his daughter to us one day."
"And Daemon might refuse, for one reason or another. With both children so young, it won't even be much of an insult." Tapping his chin, Maekar murmured, "But if he really does refuse… it can be a sign that he has decided to rebel, and thus unwilling to make any deal with us."
"It'll be worth it if only as a test of his loyalty," Dyanna said, "Betrothals can be broken, but it'll be a stain on his honour if he is to rebel after promising his daughter to us. And from what I have heard, he has the image of a perfect knight. I'd imagine that he wishes to maintain it." Lots of men had shockingly dirtied their good names throughout history, but Daemon had gotten the support of high and low lords because of a stunningly flawless image. He could not freely break it.
Maekar nodded. "I have my doubts, but you have made a convincing argument. I shall see the earliest opportunity to broach the subject with my father."
I made a convincing argument… for a betrothal that I don't wish on our son. Glancing at little Aerion, she felt guilt rising in her chest. She did not like the feeling of using her children as bargaining pieces. He was sleeping so soundly… he would not understand what he was subjected to until he was much older.
Just like how she did not understand the path she had pushed herself onto until she could not return.
Gingerly, Maekar placed a palm above Aerion's silver mop, stroking them tenderly to not wake him up. "I don't wish to arrange a betrothal for him so soon, either, especially not to the daughter of a man who might turn traitor," he whispered, "I wish that we aren't sentencing him to a doomed marriage. If Daemon's daughter is half the woman you are, he'll be lucky to be married to her."
It was high praise, one Dyanna had not expected from Maekar's mouth. He was never a flatterer. Yet as surprised as she was, Dyanna did not feel happy. A stream of embarrassment and resentment rushed to the surface, and she bit her lips. "Even your compliments are so roundabout."
Wait, she did not mean to speak it out loud. Maekar widened his eyes, and his hand stopped moving, "What do you want from me, woman— I mean, my lady, I always appreciate your presence—"
"My prince, I didn't mean to speak out of turn—"
"Waaaaah!" the cry from Aerion shocked them both. Looking at the baby, Dyanna noticed that Maekar's finger was placed dangerously close to Aerion's eyes. Pulling away from him immediately, Maekar was looking more terrified than Dyanna had ever seen him.
Then she laughed.
Tucking Aerion close to her and cooed, she chuckled, her hair swinging back and forth above Aerion's face. This seemed to do the trick as his attention turned to the strands, his tears stopped as he fruitlessly extended a hand to catch them.
Just like a kitten, Dyanna thought, amused. This one will be more lively than Daeron. A blessing for their household.
…More willful and stubborn than Daeron as well, seeing the way he glared at her hair like they were his worst enemies after failing to catch them. I wonder if he got it from me or Maekar.
"I need to be more careful," Maekar mumbled, "He's only a baby… My apologies, my lady, I forgot myself."
Dyanna raised a brow at him, a hollow smile on her lips. "My prince. You want to know what I want?"
Maekar looked equally embarrassed and awkward as he nodded. He reminded her of the boy she met at the feast. It was not that long ago, was it? Maekar had grown taller, stronger, keeping a beard, but he was still a youth. They both were.
…They still had many, many years to make things right. To be appreciated, to be honoured, to grow comfortable with each other and parenthood. To be one day known as a couple equal to Jaehaerys and Alysanne, and their children… they would be greater than any Targaryens of the past.
Then, smiling, she finally said what she had on her mind. "If you truly appreciate me as you said, it won't hurt to show it more. I just want to see your support, Maekar."
"It's not my strong suit to show… affection," Maekar admitted difficultly, "but for you, Dyanna, I'll try. I don't want to see you waste away because of what the court says… I want to build a home where you and our children can feel comfortable. I want Summerhall to be filled with the laughter of children, with you smiling in the middle of it."
"Filled with the laughter of children, huh? Just how many do you want?" Dyanna asked teasingly.
"You mentioned that Daemon had his seventh child recently? We can do better than him and his Tyroshi wife." The corners of Maekar's lips lifted, "That's our first goal. We'll have many sons and daughters together, some with your look and some with mine."
"Unless I keep birthing twins the way Lady Rohanne did, I suppose I'll spend the next decade on the birthing bed," Dyanna sighed dramatically. "But… it's… a good dream. We'll be the envy of the Seven Kingdoms," she added with a smile.
"I don't wish to be envied," Maekar said, sitting beside her, "Simply to populate our house. But if that's the effect it will have, it's… not a bad thing."
Dyanna smirked. Maekar wanted to be honoured, be envied, but he would never admit it to himself. "I hope more of them look like you than me, though," she added, "like Aerion."
"…Perhaps that will be the best." Maekar lowered his head. Looking down at Aerion, he seemed to have noticed that Aerion was still trying to grab her hair, his face now flushed red. Sighing, he offered Aerion his index finger.
Aerion happily caught it and clutched it into his mouth.
"I guess he's hungry," Dyanna smiled wryly, "We should give him to his nursemaid, soon."
"He sucks strongly. If this one has any teeth, he'll bite my finger off," Maekar said, "Perhaps you're right. He'll do great things one day."
"He will," Dyanna agreed. She gave Aerion to Maekar, and he stood up, preparing to call for the nursemaid.
Nuzzling Aerion's hair, Maekar lips formed a rare, full smile. "Happy nameday, Aerion. You're truly a blessing to our house."
Happy nameday. May your life bring happiness to others, just like today, and more importantly, to yourself.
For your existence has already blessed me with more happiness than I have ever imagined.
