Chapter Text
1/304AC
After securing Princess Arianne between her and Ser Arthur Dayne on her mount, and seeing Princess Rhaenys and Prince Quentyn on Viserion, who she noticed held on a little too tightly onto her cousin, Dany commanded Drogon to the skies and flew towards the Water Gardens, followed closely by her niece’s cream-and-gold mount on her right and Rhaegal on her left.
The flight itself didn’t take long at all, as the distance between Sunspear and the Water Gardens was only three leagues to the west of the capital city on the coastal road, and on the back of a dragon that distance was all the more shorter, the flight possibly being one of the shortest Daenerys has ever taken since becoming a dragonrider. Drogon and Rhaegal were the first to arrive outside the sprawling seaside villa, landing gracefully on the beach overlooking the Summer Sea.
Daenerys looked at Arianne in amusement and mild concern as she stumbled over her own feet when Dany assisted with her dismounting. She catches the fumbling princess suffering a mild case of weak knees and dizziness with a laugh, and Arianne clutches onto her as she tried to gather her bearings. Ser Arthur, who by now was a lot more practiced with being a passenger on a dragon, was able to dismount the dragon on his own without much fuss. Then, just as she regained her bearings, Princess Arianne came up to Dany, held her face in her delicate, if slightly shaking, hands and kissed her on the lips.
“Thank you for that privilege, my queen.” Arianne said excitedly, laughing freely and smiling from ear to ear, clearly still high off the rush of adrenaline. “I fear I may never feel anything quite like that again.”
Though Dany was caught off guard by the affectionate gesture and was fighting off a blush, she accepted it after sharing a bewildered look with Ser Arthur, chuckling at the deed and took the princess’ hand to plant her own kiss there. “It was my pleasure, princess. Though I doubt this would be our last flight together.”
Dany turned around to where Viserion landed a small distance beside Drogon, and as she craned over look to her niece, she saw her engaged in her own kiss with the prince, though unlike hers, this was clearly reciprocal and wasn’t something done purely from the excitement of their first flight, since she knew Rhaenys had taken Quentyn on many flights on dragonback prior to this. Dany blushed even harder, turning away with a panic before either one saw her, awkwardly busying herself with her child to caress them on their jaw.
When did this start happening?
“Are you feeling alright, daughter?” Ser Arthur asked, startling her slightly, giving her face a once over, clearly still amused at her expense from the Dornish princess’ antics, mistaking her deepening blush for that now forgotten surprise kiss she received from Arianne. “Your face is all red.”
“I’m fine, father.” Dany blurted out quickly, trying for dismissive. “It- it must be the Dornish sun.”
He chuckled at that. “If you say so, Your Grace.”
Dany smiled tightly at him before turning further into her children’s massive forms, avoiding her father’s stare that was a mixture of concern and amusement. After she heard him turn away muttering something about appraising their surroundings, Dany took the opportunity to rummage through her memories of Rhaenys and Quentyn as she considered the two’s kiss and then realized with a jolt that there has indeed been a growing closeness between them that she had previously simply dismissed as innocent.
The two had spent a considerable amount of time together since they first met in Meereen, Dany introducing the two herself so that her niece could connect with her maternal Martell side of the family. Then in Volantis, after the news of Quentyn’s brother Trystane’s tragic demise had reached them, Rhaenys had been the one to offer comfort to him, as the two shared a similar pain from losing a sibling due to sinister Lannister plots. And after that, when Prince Quentyn’s estranged mother Lady Mellario had come to the city alongside the Norvoshi delegation for the summit, it had been Rhaenys who helped them reconnect.
Those events also helped explained why Rhaenys would often invite her to fly from the Queen Rhaella to the Martell flagship where Quentyn was, though admittedly Dany hadn’t always been able to join her each time she had gone. During that voyage, Dany had believed they were simply connecting as families do, but then again, Rhaenys was half-Targaryen and Quentyn also shared their ancestry as well. Perhaps the blood of the dragon within them ran thick indeed and called to each other in the same ways their ancestors often did. Or perhaps they were just well suited for one another.
Dany was shaken out of her stupor when Arianne called to them to follow her inside, and at her nod of assent, she then reached out to the bond with her three children and asked them to behave before she walked towards the villa, with all three dragons proceeding to curl in on themselves on the warm sands, basking in the sun as they rested.
The five of them were welcomed inside of the lush retreat of House Martell by some palace guards and Lady Mellario of Norvos.
The estranged wife of Prince Doran had, for the longest time, absconded her title of princess consort of Dorne due to the troubled state of their marriage by choosing to live away from Dorne and return back to her home city of Norvos rather than be with her husband, though the specific reasons for their separation wasn’t entirely made privy to Dany. Lady Mellario had apparently been bitter about the estrangement, as Doran being the ruling Prince of Dorne had meant their three children, whom she loved dearly, could not leave Dorne with her as she had wanted. But the news of Quentyn’s presence in Essos and her youngest child’s death had pushed her to finally end the schism and cross the Narrow Sea to reunite with her husband and remaining children so that they may mourn together as a family.
Dany herself had seen the smiles and laughter shared between the graceful woman and her son on many occasions in Volantis and during their sea voyage to Westeros. And though it had made her happy to see a family reunited and mend their broken bond, it sent a pang of hurt in her heart because she never had nor could ever have that same privilege.
Rhaella Targaryen died so that Daenerys Targaryen could live, Dany thought with a shame, for a mild envy had settled in her heart during those brief and fleeting moments.
After reuniting with her daughter Arianne in Sunspear, Mellario had taken it upon herself to travel to the Water Gardens the very next day at first light, a day before Dany had arrived at the Dornish capital. The Prince of Dorne’s ailing state had been the reason for such urgency, and Dany knew the death of their child only made their reunion all the more necessary, but she also hoped that perhaps despite the darkness which plagued their current circumstance, they would find a way to reconcile. They did marry for love, after all. And Dany would always root for love to thrive.
That trip to the Water Gardens was joined by both Quentyn and Rhaenys, who offered to take Lady Mellario and her son on her dragon, the quick travel on dragonback allowing for her niece and good-nephew to return to Sunspear in time before Dany’s expected arrival. To Dany’s surprise Ashara Dayne had also traveled with them, having gone to Sunspear along with her daughter Rhaenys and brother Ser Arthur from Starfall the day before, because Arianne Martell had apparently bore the message from her father that spoke of his wish to speak with Ashara urgently, which then explained her absence at the Old Palace during their war council.
But now, as she saw Arianne and Quentyn share an affectionate hug with their mother in front of her and felt the familiar unwanted and shameful bloom of envy starting to claw within her again, Dany decided to look around at her new surroundings to stymie it, all while avoiding eye contact with Rhaenys. She was met with charming sights that brought a small smile to her face. Everywhere she could see there were pale pink iridescent marble that paved the sprawling gardens and courtyard, and terraces overlooking the numerous clear crystal blue pools and fountains of the Water Gardens, shaded by blood orange trees, that can be reached through a fluted pillar gallery leading to a triple archway. The place was extremely well-kept and had a serenity to it that was pleasing.
A true paradise in the desert.
“Welcome to the Water Gardens, Your Graces.” Lady Mellario said, curtsying to her and Rhaenys. Dany noticed that her eyes were bloodshot and red, clearly from crying.
“Thank you, my lady.” They both replied.
“If you would come this way, the Prince has requested all of your presence in his chambers.” She said uneasily. “I’m afraid he- he’s bedridden now, and must apologize for his inability to greet you himself, my queen.”
Dany waved off her concerns, holding her hand gently when she came closer to the Norvoshi noble and gave her a small smile of comfort. “It is of no trouble, my lady. Let us go to him now.”
After a silent walk through the elegant palace, they all found themselves entering the solar of the Prince, where Lady Mellario had quickly excused herself, shuffling towards the bedchamber to her husband.
Not long after they settled in the solar where she, Rhaenys, Quentyn and Arthur proceeded to lounge on the luxurious cushions in waiting, Mellario come out of the Prince’s room with Ashara Dayne, who immediately smiled at seeing Arthur, Rhaenys and Dany again, eyes similarly bloodshot and red with freshly-shed tears. After pleasantries were exchanged between her and all the new arrivals, Ashara nodded at Mellario who then turned to address her.
“Queen Daenerys, if you would, the Prince would like to see you now.”
Dany nodded and stood, and after seeing the tight smiles Rhaenys, Ashara and the Martell siblings gave her, she returned one of her own to them and Ser Arthur, who himself had sent her an encouraging nod.
The prince’s bedchamber smelled of scented candles and incense, an excessive amount of both it seemed, as if they were trying to mask a certain smell. The smell of death, Dany realized after a moment. Lady Mellario drew closer to the bed at the center of the chamber, and when the sheer curtain of the four poster bed were drawn, Dany finally saw him. The Prince of Dorne, Doran Martell.
Quentyn had told her that his father was a man in his fifties, though one who had been ailing from a bad case of gout for years even before the young prince left for Essos to seek her out. But seeing Doran now, Dany wouldn’t have thought he was fifty, for he appeared to be much older than he was in truth. Lady Mellario kissed the man on his head and delicately helped him sit up straighter, and once the man had locked eyes with Dany, he gave her a radiant smile.
“I shall be right outside, my love.” Mellario whispered to him, before leaving the room with the maester that was in the room following behind her after he nodded respectfully to the queen.
“Queen Daenerys.” He said after the doors were shut, voice raspy and weak, though still had a hidden strength behind them. Dany then noticed that despite the weariness of his face, the man’s brown eyes were still as bright and sharp as that of a much younger man. “I apologize that I'm not in a better state to receive your company, however I am deeply honored and grateful that you have come here to indulge my request.”
Dany gave the prince a respectful nod. “There is no need to apologize for that, Prince Doran, and I thank you for your warm welcome. I am glad to be here. This palace is beautiful.”
He gestured to the chair on the left side of the bed, patting down on the cushion, smiling warmly as he did. “Please sit, my queen.”
She nodded once more and made her way to the chair. It was a comfortable seat, no doubt used by the other members of the Martell family and invited visitors that have been in this room to see to their prince, made to withstand hours of sitting in vigilant watch and intimate company.
“Did you know that the Water Gardens was built by my ancestor Prince Moran Martell as a gift for his bride, Princess Daenerys Targaryen?” He asked after a moment passed between them, with Dany nodding affirmatively. “The same Princess Daenerys Targaryen who I imagine to be your namesake, Your Grace. I believe I have asked my children to show you the portrait of the princess that we Martells have kept for near over a century in Sunspear. We regard her presence in our halls with utmost affection and honor.”
Dany chuckled lightly at the mention. “Yes, your children have shown me the tapestry of Princess Daenerys when they welcomed me to the Old Palace. It pleases me to know the name Targaryen hasn’t been so tainted in Dorne.”
Doran shook his head. “We may have had… difficulties with the last Targaryen regime that ruled from King’s Landing, but Dorne still cherishes the alliance between our two great houses. Or at the very least, I am of that mind, my queen.”
“I’m glad that is the case, Prince Doran.”
“As you know, it was your namesake’s marriage that made Dorne officially part of the Seven Kingdoms.”
Dany chuckled lightly. “Those were the same words your son Quentyn spoke so eloquently to me when he first came to ask my favor in Meereen.”
The prince let out a strained laugh. “That sounds like my boy.”
After their combined laughter died down, Dany spoke. “But I'm afraid I couldn’t accept his proposal. I felt that our houses were already aligned and had no need to be joined in matrimony once more, as I would fight for your people regardless. Princess Elia was my kin too, my good-sister. I have not forgotten that or the horrors that befell her.”
A silence filled the room save for a slight wheezing, and the heaviness of his breathing made her turn away for an uneasy moment. “You are right for thinking so, Your Grace.” He said after a while. “Though some have worked out marvelously, perhaps marriages between our houses haven’t always been the best idea. Mother Rhoyne knows Elia should’ve never been forced in that position.”
Dany turned again to Doran and noticed that he was silently holding back tears. But before Dany could say anything, the prince reached out to gently hold her hand. It suddenly reminded her of Ser Willem Darry, during his last days.
“When one reaches a certain age, one cannot help embarking on an audit of the heart. A review.” He said, eyes downcast and misty, making him fully look every bit his age once more. “One considers one’s life and all the… lingering regrets that they have desperately tried and failed to banish from their heart. And it’s interesting to note what endures. There are some that remain and become a lasting sorrow, and some that fade, and one realizes were probably never true regrets at all. Thankfully, in these last of my twilight years, I have been blessed with a clarity that has long eluded me. This is especially true for those that also feels the cold breath of the Stranger nipping at their back. Time is a luxury that I no longer have, so there is no need for me to lie to myself or to anyone else. I am a dying man, Your Grace.”
“Prince Doran, I’m sure-“
“No. It’s the harsh truth. I feel it my bones.” The Prince said resolutely. “Which is why I must confess the depths of my shame… I should have done more to help you and your brother Viserys after the Usurper’s war. I had lost much during that time. A sister, an uncle and many countrymen lost to that terrible war…” He said, voice hitching. “And I had felt such great anger, of feeling spurned on my sister’s behalf by your brother’s actions until it crept into my heart and held it hostage, to the extent that it prevented me from acting as I should have. I am ashamed to say that my bitterness towards the grown men of House Targaryen interfered with my better judgement.”
The prince looked her in the eyes then, the brightness that had momentarily dimmed down returning. “I held such bitter hatred. For Aerys, after he declared that Elia and her children were to be prisoners in their own home, unable to seek safety in Dorne. For Rhaegar, after shaming my sister, his lawful wife, in front of the entire realm with his… tryst. For a long while, I was content with seeking revenge in the far future, feigning ignorance over you and your brother, the helpless exiled Targaryen children in Essos, whose safety hinged solely on an aging master-at-arms. I wish that I was more noble, but alas I am only but a man, a terribly imperfect man who fell short to his faults and shortcomings.” He laughs darkly then, though it does not reach his brown eyes. “Elia would’ve been so cross with me, if she was alive to see my failures. She wouldn’t hesitate to knock me over the head for my fallacy.”
As she listened to the prince, Daenerys had felt an anger she had long forgotten return, and for a singular moment she almost wanted to stew in that righteous anger. How could she not, when the memories of her childhood had returned just as bitter as the taste the destitution of her youth living on the streets with Viserys had been, an unfortunate reality that was in part due to Prince Doran’s admitted indifference to their plight.
But as she had listened to the pain in the old man’s voice, she realized that she couldn’t find it within herself to keep holding on to that anger. Not anymore. She’s forgiven so many for their past transgressions already that she has found herself to have become quite good at it, the act becoming easier and easier to do, especially if it was deserved.
Dany had to let go of the past, for the future she wanted to build had no room for bygone grudges. And she preferred not to think about the past, painful as it was. Now, that anger felt more like sand, slipping through her fingers even as a small part of her wanted to cling to the last of it.
If I look back, I am lost.
In the lull, Prince Doran suddenly tried to take the cane that was on the side of the bed. In her confusion, Dany immediately went to assist him the best she could, all while debating whether to call for Lady Mellario, but the prince saw her puzzled frown and waved off her concerns. With Dany’s reluctant assistance, the prince was eventually able to stand in front of Dany, standing proudly to his full height, and then began to lower himself down into one knee, something that clearly caused him a severe amount of physical strain.
“Prince Doran, that won’t be necessary. I understand your intent clear enough.” She says harshly after the man refused her help to get him back on the bed, the bitterness of her previous thoughts unintentionally bleeding into her voice, but thankfully there was no true anger or resentment in it.
“Please. Allow me to do this.” Despite the obvious struggle, he finally manages to kneel in front of her and proceeds to kiss her hands. The gesture astounded her, and the gravity of it was not lost on her. The Prince of Dorne had bent to her and begged her for forgiveness. Her mind was swimming with a newfound respect for the man as he finally accepted her help to get him back on the bed.
“If you’ve already met Princess Rhaenys and Lady Ashara, then I suspect you already know the truth about your sister.” Dany eventually said. “You needn't have carried that misery in your heart for so long because she never was slighted in the first place, my prince. Princess Elia participated in Rhaegar’s unfortunate mummery, so I do hope their enlightenment of the true events has helped alleviate some of the burden you carried for so long.”
“That is kind of you to say, Your Grace. It is certainly how I feel now, though I must admit it wasn’t easy to learn of the extent of my ignorance at first.” Doran smiled ruefully at her words and then laughed sadly. “I dare say, when Ashara told me of the truth about Elia, my heart sunk because suddenly it all made sense. How had I been so blind to it before? To my own sister, my own flesh and blood? They may have learned to love each other in the end, especially after the birth of their two children, but even I knew Elia never truly loved Rhaegar, nor had eyes for any man growing up. I thought it was because she had a ridiculously high standard, which no man could ever hope to meet. As her older brother, I of course shared that same assessment. No man was good enough for our dear Elia. As it turns out I was correct, for no man did meet her measure. Now I know why. I only regret not having listened to her with more attention and grace when I had the chance.”
Dany smiled despite herself. “I am glad you have been made aware of the truth, my prince, now able to know more of your family and that of your sister’s true self. I can only hope it helped diminish any lingering sorrow you carried in your heart, as it did mine.”
“It truly has, Your Grace. The long conversations I had with Lady Ashara were especially enlightening. When my son came here bringing with him Ashara Dayne and my estranged lady wife on the back of a full-grown dragon bonded to my sister Elia’s thought to be deceased daughter Rhaenys who is the spitting image of her mother, I thought I had already passed on and crossed to the other side.” He chuckled, the smile he wore making his face appear younger again. “Truth be told, all the stories Lady Ashara had of Elia and their secret life have given me a peace I had not known since I was a more carefree youth. At times it almost felt like getting to know my sister all over again, learning of that side of herself that she felt she had to keep hidden. And though I mourn Aegon deeply, to know that even a part of my Elia survived in her daughter after all we’ve been through… I couldn’t ask for more.”
“Though I never got to know him, I mourn my nephew as well.” Dany shook the bout of melancholy and smiled at seeing the happy tears fall from the prince’s face. “I felt a similar joy in Meereen when I first met my niece alongside Ashara Dayne. It’s an odd thing, to find that you have more family than you thought you had, especially when you barely had any to begin with. But I have since found that their presence in my life, despite the two women only being relatively new additions to it, to be ones that I now cannot live without.” The queen said sincerely.
“You are gracious indeed, my queen…” He said before stopping even more tears from falling. “What you have done, in taking in Elia’s daughter and welcoming her with such open arms… it only adds to my great shame. That I couldn’t extend the same grace to you and your brother all those years ago.” He said as he shook his head. “You could’ve treated Rhaenys with hostility and suspicion, keeping her at arm’s length, but instead you treated her so warmly, embraced her as if she was a family member you’ve known all your life.”
“Rhaenys is my family. Blood of my blood.” Dany said easily, which made Doran’s sad smile grow evermore.
“You’ve even allowed her to bond with one of your dragons.” He said almost in disbelief.
“My niece is a dragon, and a worthy one at that.” She asserted. “My three children recognized that truth and Viserion chose to form a bond with her all on their own, which they wouldn’t have done if she wasn’t a rider worth bonding to.”
“You are much too modest, Your Grace. Lady Ashara told me how you helped facilitate that bond within an hour of meeting your niece.” Doran said reverently, which Dany acknowledged with a small smile.
“I may have helped with the introduction, but Rhaenys claiming a dragon was not my doing, I can assure you that.”
“In any case, I couldn’t be more content to see her happy among family now. I’d like to think it is as if Elia’s effulgence had returned to Dorne with Rhaenys.”
“And are you?” The queen then asked gently, deciding to test the waters. “Content to see your niece happy where she is, even if that means she passes over her claim to the Iron Throne to me?”
A smirk appeared on the weathered face of the prince as he replied evenly. “I will be honest with you, Your Grace. When Rhaenys first told me how she abdicated her right to the Iron Throne I was baffled. As I’m sure you understand, by both Rhoynish and Andal laws, as the eldest and only living child of King Aerys’ firstborn heir, the throne would be Rhaenys Targaryen’s burden to bear.”
The prince then held up his hand slightly in defense before Dany could say anything. “And it was not lost on me, how you saw it the same way and freely offered her the crown despite you having spent years of your life believing yourself to be the last of your House, taking on that mantle and then proving to be an accomplished ruler of your own. But Rhaenys said she rejected it wholly. Said it herself that she would never want to be chained to the throne that had lost her everything. And in her fierce rejection, I saw even more glimpses of my dear Elia in her, and it blossomed in me great contrition.” He shook his head, eyes downcast.
“How could I even ask her to rule over and live in a place that had brought such devastating horror into her young life? The place of her mother’s brutal murder when she was only but a child. I know now t’was unfair of me to have presumed it, and as such, now I am completely content with her choice. I understand it. If anything, it makes me happy to know that Rhaenys won’t be forever stuck in the Red Keep like my dear sister had been, and that perhaps she may even remain here in Dorne to live out her days, like I know had been Elia’s true desire prior to her duty as a royal consort to the heir of the realm. Rhaenys has spoken to me of her similar desire to reside in the places both her mothers called home.”
An easy silence hung in the room as Dany accepted his sincere answer with an understanding nod. But as the stillness lasted a moment too long, Dany remembered of the other recent loss the prince suffered and decided to broach an uneasy topic. “I am sorry for what happened to your son, Prince Doran.” The queen said. “Prince Trystane was…” She searched for the appropriate words. “Dedicated and noble. He gave his life defending a person many others in Dorne would have preferred dead.”
A ghost of a smile appeared on the prince’s weary face. “We don’t sacrifice children in Dorne.”
“Then it speaks highly of the new generation of the Martell family to remain faithful to that noble principle. I'm proud to call Arianne and Quentyn my kin.”
“That mindset did not come from nothing, Your Grace. Especially not in this cruel world we find ourselves living in.” He began, the liveliness of his voice returning yet again, though his eyes looked faraway still, albeit now wistful. “My children grew up hearing the story of Princess Daenerys, as my parents did me and my siblings. I always told them the most important of her lessons; ‘As the children played in the pools of the Water Gardens as they often do, Princess Daenerys would watch from amongst the orange trees, and a realization came to her. She could not tell the high-born from the low. Naked, they were only children. All innocent, all vulnerable, all deserving of long life, love, protection. ‘There is your realm,’ she told her son and heir, ‘remember them, in everything you do.’” He finished the tale ruefully, taking a breath.
“My own mother said those same words to me when I was old enough to leave the pools. It is an easy thing for a prince to call the spears, but in the end it is the children that pay the price. For their sake, the wise prince will wage no war without good cause, nor any war he cannot hope to win. It was one of the reasons why I have remained steadfast in holding my countrymen’s thirst for blood at bay and sent my son Quentyn across the narrow sea to you. You are our only hope, my queen. I am a cautious, pensive and subtle man, it is known. I have a tendency to think long on the matters before me, weighing every word and every action until at times it may seem I am much too indecisive. But I am only concerned with launching a war that I know I can win. I wanted dragons to ensure that our victory could be won with minimal bloodshed, all so that we do not leave a realm full of orphans.”
“I understand this, more than you know. And I assure you that we share the same ideals in this regard.” She replied easily. “When I sit the Iron Throne, I will make sure all of Westeros is the the Water Gardens, Prince Doran.”
Prince Doran beamed at that. “A hundred years ago, Daenerys Targaryen came to Dorne to bring peace. Now another comes to bring us justice. It shows much of your character that you are full of mercy just as much as you long for justice. You truly are what the realm needs, Your Grace. The Dornish would be proud to call you our Queen.”
The prince then maneuvered to take a solid red rectangular box that was on the side table that sat beside his bed and handed it to her. It was a simple box, one that had no ornamentation or adornment that would make her think it was of any importance. But her confusion promptly burned away the second she opened the plain box at the prince’s encouraging nod.
“The crown of Aegon the Conqueror.” He said, the words heavy on his tongue. “To the realm’s knowledge Daeron the Young Dragon had lost it in his failed war to conquer Dorne, but in truth crown has been kept by the Martells as a sort of… hidden trophy, for repelling yet another Targaryen invasion.”
Dany was still gaping at the object in front of her, blinking her eyes rapidly to test whether it was a mirage, until she held it in her hands and felt it in her hands. This was real… Daenerys Targaryen was holding the crown of Aegon the First, the progenitor of the Targaryen dynasty in Westeros.
The dark circlet of Valyrian-steel, set with big square-cut rubies, Aegon’s crown was no pretty thing. It was harsh, severe, but beautiful in its own way. The Valyrian-steel made it lighter than it ought to be, and the rubies seemed to have kept its luster despite the object being more than three centuries old.
Older than the royal Targaryen dynasty itself.
“I am unsure what to say to this.” She whispered.
“There is more, my queen.” He gestured to the box, which to Dany’s surprise had contained one more object that in her daze at seeing the conqueror’s crown had blinded her to the other crown that lay under it. To her great astonishment, Dany immediately noticed that this one was also made of Valyrian-steel and wrought with identical rubies. So similar were the two crowns Dany was certain they were made specifically with the other in mind.
“The second crown you hold is the Valyrian-steel circlet that once belonged to Queen Rhaenys, who died with her great dragon Meraxes in Hellholt during the First Dornish War.”
Dany’s mouth ran dry at the realization at what she was holding, and she could barely croak out the one question that rang in her mind.
“How?”
“The more salacious tales would have you believe that Rhaenys Targaryen somehow survived falling hundreds of feet from the air and through a castle’s stone walls, and that the Ullers of Hellholt kept her in perpetual torture for years. But alas, the reality was Rhaenys died instantly when she fell with her mount, crushed by the weight of her own dragon. Despite the vengeance she felt for what she perceived to be an unprovoked war by the Targaryens, Princess Meria and her heir were not stupid. Even if Rhaenys did somehow survive, they would’ve never allowed for their bannermen to keep her alive just to torture her in their keep, let alone boast that they were doing so, where it may lead to King Aegon and Queen Visenya finding out the truth.”
The Prince shook his head gently. “That would be foolish and would’ve amounted to nothing but even more of the dragons’ wrath and the Dornish’s certain demise, as Dorne would never be left alone by the threat of an even more enraged dragonfire. Our kingdom may have been staving off a complete loss from that war, but they were merely surviving, not winning.”
“I see.” Dany said, mulling over the information given to her.
“These tales are not known by any outside of those with Martell blood, and even then only the heirs of the princeship would know.” He explained further. “Another tale that’s been passed down through generations is that though they were great enemies, as a descendant of Princess Nymeria herself, Princess Meria still respected the warrior that Queen Rhaenys was, and due to the timely intervention of her more peace-minded heir Prince Nymor and his daughter Princess Deria, she allowed for the corpse of Rhaenys to be taken from the Ullers and treated with proper respect under their care.”
Dany hummed at that, not realizing just how truly incomplete the history books have been. What else was written about the past has been untrue?
“Though Princess Meria insisted House Martell keep the crown that was on Rhaenys as a trophy, she conceded that they must eventually return the dragon and its rider’s remains. It was that demonstration of honorable conduct that ultimately saved Dorne from Aegon and Visenya’s continual wrath when Princess Deria had given the king a letter from her father, who had by then succeeded Princess Meria as the ruling Prince of Dorne after her death and was finally able to sue for a negotiated peace. They brought the remains of Meraxes to King Aegon’s court, while at the same time, they also discretely brought the fallen queen’s remains to Dragonstone. My ancestors’ tales would say that before her death, Princess Meria had also initially withheld an accompanying Valyrian-steel dagger that was strapped on Rhaenys’ belt, but her son and granddaughter were able to convince her otherwise before the end and brought it with the body, a decision which helped authenticate the validity of the fallen queen’s remains. When Aegon accepted the treaty and agreed to a stalemate, it forged a new path of friendship with Prince Nymor, effectively ending the war.”
“The Aegon the histories would have us believe didn’t seem like the type of man to just let something like that go.” Dany said.
“I believe the maesters who wrote those historical accounts were most likely biased and had a narrative they wanted to portray, Your Grace.” He countered. “Despite it all, in the end, Aegon was a warrior who held to his own standard of honor, and when he was made known about the manner in which Rhaenys’ corpse was treated, he respected that. Though he was enraged he couldn’t have been there for his sister-wife to save her, he could still concede when he was beaten, at least in that. He wouldn’t touch Dorne, and made sure to keep his beloved son Aenys, the last remaining part of Rhaenys that still lived, even more protected, as he and the Dornish had resorted in engaging in a shadow war of assassinations in the time between when Meraxes fell and before Princess Meria passed. As rulers of their own kingdoms, Aegon and Nymor both knew they needed to put an end to the war, something both they and their people were already weary of, and start focusing on building for the next generation through their heirs. It was a gamble, but Prince Nymor was proven right, and because of that Dorne survived unbent and was able to thrive again.”
The prince then held her hand and regarded her with a stern expression. “Though I hardly imagine my own ancestors, least of all Princess Meria, would be approving of my actions today, I for one believe it is only right for the crowns to be returned to its rightful owner… to the heir of House Targaryen.”
Though she was awestruck at the revelations and boon the prince had given her, a bout of sorrow overcame her as she held the two crowns in her calloused, albeit still dainty, hands. Dany suddenly felt herself thrust into the past she and Doran had just spoken about before, specifically to the period of her harsh early life on the streets of Essos with her dear brother. In depths of their destitution, Dany remembered how Viserys had to sell their mother’s crown, one of the last of their family heirlooms that they were able to keep throughout their exile, in order to save them from starvation. She remembered the devastation of that day and how with the loss of their beloved mother’s crown, Viserys had lost the last of his kindness, and perhaps sanity, as well.
And now I have three Valyrian-steel crowns, where Viserys couldn’t even keep one made of gold.
It wasn’t just melancholy that she felt, she had realized with a jolt. Dany felt a deeply gnawing guilt. Her mother’s ring suddenly felt hot around her finger and she put down the two crowns delicately in the box so that she could touch the ring, and as soon as she did, Dany felt herself come back.
No, she forced herself to lock those feelings away once more. I shall not fall to despair and allow my dark past to disrupt the bright future I am determined to build… if I look back, I am lost.
Wiping away the tear that ran down her cheek, Dany eventually nodded at his words, giving the prince genuine words of gratitude for disclosing his family secrets and for returning her family heirlooms to her. Though despite the magnitude of the gifts she had been given, both in information and priceless heirlooms, especially given the considerable significance of the latter to the Targaryen histories, Dany knew she was not going to wear either crowns.
I have my own crown, she thought with pride. Her circlet, also made of Valyrian-steel, with a single amethyst that she had found deep within the ruins of the old freehold of Valyria… she had once promised herself that she was to forge her own path upon finding the crown. And even these boons would not deter her.
“Meeting you has given me a peace of mind that I have long yearned for all my life. The realm and Dorne will be in good hands, with you and my daughter at the helm.” He eventually said. Though it seemed like Prince Doran had a bit more to say, he started going into a coughing fit, prompting Dany to call for Lady Mellario, who rushed in with the maester and their two fretting children.
Not long after Dany left the room with the prized box in tow, Quentyn came back out with the maester who informed them that Prince Doran was stable again after being given a special tincture to alleviate his pains, but needed to rest for a brief spell before he could host another audience, prompting Dany, Rhaenys, Arthur and Ashara to be led out into the dining patio overlooking one of the pools where the servants had just laid out a hearty midday meal. While they ate quietly, the Martell siblings stayed in the prince’s chambers to have their own private moment with their parents.
The food itself was pleasant, the cold wine refreshing in the comfortable heat and the conversations respectfully exuberant as they fervently discussed the crowns of the two conquerors that Dany had been given. But once the meal was over, Ser Arthur excused himself to scout perimeter, no doubt to ensure the security of the estate was not lacking and Ashara similarly excused herself to walk the gardens, wanting a moment to herself, leaving Dany alone with Rhaenys. For once, she had no idea how to act around her cousin after suddenly remembering having seen her so intimate with Quentyn.
Thankfully, she wasn’t the one that decided break the awkward silence or the secret.
“Daenerys, I am in love with Quentyn Martell and I wish to be betrothed to him.” Rhaenys said firmly, knocking the wind out of Dany as her niece looked completely earnest in her confession.
“Well… that would explain the kiss the two of you shared earlier on the beach.” Dany said while taking a sip of the chilled wine.
A deep red blush bloomed in her cousin’s cheeks. “You saw that?”
“Believe me, I was caught just as off guard as you are right now, if not more.” Dany said with a chuckle before regarding Rhaenys more sternly. “I can understand if there is a mutual attraction between you two, but I must ask. Is there a reason why you want to get betrothed with such haste?”
Rhaenys sat up straighter at her line of questioning, and took a deep breath, as if preparing herself for something, though Dany knew not what.
“The truth is, this is not just about love. This was an entirely thought out proposition that I brought to Quentyn, which he accepted.”
“And pray tell, what proposition are we speaking of here?”
Her cousin’s indigo eyes looked down momentarily, at the folded hands on her lap, as if still unsure, though her voice did not betray her, confident still as she spoke. “I was entirely resolute when I said I wanted nothing to do with the Iron Throne, cousin. And while I know you won’t actively try to push it on me, now that we’re on Westerosi soil I am not so unaware that our very existence as women of Targaryen blood would open us up to the possibility of marriage contracts in order to obtain alliances for the coming war, and to maintain the realm’s stability thereafter.”
“Rhaenys, I would never-“
“I know.” She said, cutting her off firmly. “I know, Daenerys. But I still wanted that choice to remain mine and mine alone. I have no wish for some lord to propose any such brazen offers to you, then all to have you reject them and possibly turn an ally, or allies, against us. So I simply decided to take that choice out of their hands. I elected Prince Quentyn. I would be his bride and a princess of Dorne. Untouchable.”
A dawning of understanding overcame her. “On top of keeping you from being a pawn or broodmare for other Houses to further their own standing and power in this great and awful game, it would also effectively make it harder for you, and those of your future children presumably carrying the Martell name, to ascend the Iron Throne.”
Rhaenys though stood nervously resolute at Dany’s fire. “Precisely.”
Daenerys felt inflamed at the maneuvering her niece had done behind her back, as it was clear Rhaenys had thought of this quite thoroughly.
But what of the future of House Targaryen?
For a moment, Daenerys felt like holding her cousin down and screaming, telling her just how important it was that she be her heir and have her line continue their legacy. I cannot have children, but you can, she would yell. The Targaryen name must be carried down through you, she would wail.
But she knew that would only create problems. Once Rhaenys knew of the truth of her broken womb, she would be able to manipulate her cousin into doing her bidding, and Dany had no intention of weaponizing guilt into forcing anything on Rhaenys like Viserys had done to her with Drogo. After her the temporary rage simmered down, Dany couldn’t help but feel a pride bloom by her niece’s shrewd actions, and had to commend her for such initiative.
She truly is a dragon after all.
“And you’re not at all worried whether Quentyn has any ambitions of his own regarding you, cousin?”
“Quentyn has no ambitions.” Rhaenys chuckled easily. “In truth, he was even relieved when he didn’t have to marry you, cousin. He has no desire to be king-consort to the queen who would sit the Iron Throne and all the responsibilities that comes with that. He desires a simpler life. A quieter one in Dorne.” She sighed then. “He would often say that in Westeros, second sons had a tendency to grow bitter at their lot in life, of being the spare that stands to inherit nothing. But Quentyn never saw it that way. Being a second son, or rather, a second child in Dorne, meant that he has a freedom his older sister could never have. The same kind of freedom that Prince Oberyn thrived in and flaunted. And to me, that sounds much more appealing than any unwanted burden that comes by virtue of being born first. I thought I would’ve had to take on that burden too… but now, thanks to you, we all can be happy, choosing our own destiny.”
Dany considers that, and before long she found that her cousin’s assessment of the prince was similar to the one she had drawn herself. Quentyn was many things, but ambitious for power he was not.
“How did this relationship come about?”
Her cousin’s mouth quirked up to a half-smile then. “At first it was because of necessity. I wanted to get to know more of my mother’s side of the family, and about life in Dorne, of Sunspear and the Water Gardens and all the places my mother grew up in, topics which Ashara had always given such scant details whenever I tried prying such stories from her during our exile. And he used me too, to get to know more about Norvos, and his mother. But over time, we found ourselves enjoying each other’s company. Craving it, eventually. He’s such a sweet man. Caring, attentive and chivalrous. Humorous too, in his own way. But above all, we found comfort in each other, took care of each other’s pains that are so eerily similar. I didn’t expect it… but I think somewhere on that long voyage to Westeros, I may have fallen for the prince, just as he did for me.”
Dany nodded at that, her answer corresponding with her previous estimation of their relationship timeline, and felt happy at seeing her cousin smile so radiantly describing how she felt about the prince.
“Has Quentyn, in the entire time you have known him, ever taken advantage of you?” She eventually asked.
“Not at all. If anything we, uh-, took advantage of each other, willingly… and with enthusiasm.”
“And should we be confident that there will be no… unwanted epilogue?” She left the question open ended.
“No!” Rhaenys shook her head vigorously. “I mean, very confident. My mother Ashara made sure I took a special tea to ensure no unintended surprises comes from our… time together, quite yet.”
“Hence the marriage proposal.”
“Hence the marriage proposal.” Rhaenys repeated, nodding stiffly. “I apologize for the maneuvering but I wanted my future to be one of my own making. If I am to return to the place where I lost everything, I want it to be on my own terms. What better place to end up than the place my mother Elia loved most?”
Her words, so similar to Doran’s own when talking of his dead sister, made something stir within Dany, helping her understand her cousin much more than she ever did. This is her happiness.
It was quite the auspicious timing, as that moment Quentyn suddenly returned to them, to inform them that Ser Arthur was now speaking with Prince Doran and that his father wished to speak to Rhaenys once more next. But before they could go back to the prince’s solar, Dany held Quentyn’s gaze.
“Prince Quentyn, I hope this goes without saying, but if you ever think about mistreating my niece in any way whatsoever, let this be a reminder that I have gelded men before.”
The prince, eyes wide in surprise, immediately looked to her niece, and the two seemingly had an entire private conversation through just looks alone, until Rhaenys chuckled lightly. “The queen knows, my love.”
At that Prince Quentyn then looked to her, cowed under her intense amethyst gaze before squaring his shoulders and speaking with a firm voice.
“Princess Rhaenys is a rare maiden of great worth, Your Grace. I have seen many lovely women, some hailed as the greatest beauty of their land, and she would not be shamed in any of their company. In fact, the opposite would be true, and she would put any other beauty before her to shame. What's more, her mind puts a Valyrian-steel sword’s keenness to shame-“
“I believe that is enough, my prince.” Dany chucked at Quentyn’s flair for long and flowery speeches. “It is not in words that I need convincing, but in action. So long as you treat her right and give her the proper love and devotion that she deserves, you not need worry about me standing in the way of your union.”
“…you have my word, Your Grace.” The prince said with relief. “I will never mistreat Rhaenys, and she will be loved and cherished by me all our life.”
“Good. And not that you ever needed it, since the only person you truly needed the approval of is Rhaenys herself, and perhaps Lady Ashara’s, but in any case, as your queen I give this betrothal and union my blessing.”
“Thank you, Your Grace-“
“Daenerys, Quentyn dear. If we’re going to become family by marriage once more, I think it’s appropriate for you to address me by my name. At least, when we are amongst ourselves.”
He smiled at her, comely face glowing with gratitude, before they embraced each other warmly. “Thank you, Daenerys. For everything.”
After releasing her, Quentyn excitedly went to Rhaenys and freely kissed her in front of Dany now that there were no secrets between them. Seeing the two made Dany happier than she ever expected herself to be. It gave her a sense of hope that she felt would be needed in the wars to come.
And should this union were to be blessed enough to bear fruit… who’s to say she could not convince them to have one of their children succeed her on the Iron Throne? After all, a ruler may choose their own heir if they are unable to produce one themselves. A child of theirs with Targaryen blood can certainly be given the Targaryen name by royal decree should the circumstances necessitate for it.
A pang of sadness hit her then. It would be so much easier if she were to be able to-
No, she ceased the thought from fully forming.
If I look back, I am lost.
As they walked back towards the solar, Rhaenys held Daenerys back, making them walk behind Quentyn a few paces after him.
“Is that really true? You’ve gelded men before?”
“No.” Dany admitted to the white lie. “I’ve beheaded plenty of people before, yet I’ve never had the pleasure of actually gelding a man who deserves it yet. I did come quite close though, in Meereen.”
Rhaenys laughed easily. “Well, you’re about to become queen of this horrendously barbaric continent, so perhaps things will look up.”
“Yes, I believe you’re right in that.” Dany sighed before smirking. “But first, a queen must conquer.”
After sending a raven to Sunspear to notify their people that they were staying the night at the Water Gardens and that their council should proceed with the war preparations as scheduled, the rest of the day was spent in peaceful bliss, almost as if they were protected in a bubble that kept all the worries of the world far away from penetrating the intimate Martell retreat.
This was the quiet before the storm, Dany thought.
That night, Dany slept a deeply satisfying full night’s sleep, her first in Westeros, and the next morning as the sun rose and she was breaking her fast with her father Arthur, cousin Rhaenys and her mother Ashara, the news came to them from a weeping Lady Mellario.
The Prince of Dorne passed in his sleep, just before the sun was beginning to rise.
He died happy declaring his allegiance to the true queen. He died happy knowing that in his failure to protect an innocent princess, a honorable knight of Dorne had done what he could not. He died happy in the knowledge that one of Elia’s children survived and found happiness with his own son. He died happy in the knowledge that Elia hadn’t been as unloved as he had feared, but was filled with love, even it was entirely in the shadows. He died peacefully in his sleep, surrounded in the loving embrace of his wife, daughter and son, finally content at seeing his family heal and expand.
“Doran Martell died filled with hope.” Arianne Martell declared at the Prince’s funeral in Sunspear the next day. “For Westeros now has a new Princess of Dorne, and will soon have a new Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. With the rising sun, Dorne shall have their vengeance and justice, with fire and blood.”