PAIRING — Prince Baelor Targaryen x fem!Reader // Arryn!OC
SUMMARY — Baelor's stubborn and spoiled wife always gets what she wants even when she dramatically escapes the Red Keep to prove her point. Even when it's his son's future at stake.
AUTHOR’S NOTE — Not requested (I still have 4 requests left and ofc I will be writing them soon). I know I said I wouldn't write for Baelor but let's normalise not taking me seriously, okay? 🥴 The Reader is an Arryn but her looks are not described at all. I don't picture her as a bad person with vile intentions but she is proud, ambitious and spoiled so... 🤣
WARNINGS — Reader is Baelor's second wife, incest (a betrothal between Targaryen half-siblings)
WORD COUNT — 3,800
ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.
HIS IMPOSSIBLE WOMAN
The day was windy and rather cold, especially up in The Eyrie. You wrapped the fur coat tighter around your body as you walked across the courtyard. The servants were nodding their heads at you and immediately looking away. The same servants you had been growing up around. Yet, the way they behaved around you these days differed greatly.
You entered one of the towers and walked downstairs when one of the knights approached you.
“My Lady,” he bowed his head as low as he never did even for your father.
“Yes, Ser Gwindon?” You asked and he looked up at you, his eyes filled with curiosity and respect.
“You have a guest, my Lady,” he announced and you froze a bit.
“A guest?” You inquired. “I don’t expect any guests.”
“I know.”
“Why did you allow them to–”
“We had no choice,” the knight interrupted you and blushed immediately. “It is a guest we are obliged to welcome.”
You scoffed at that and walked past the knight. You had a feeling who the guest probably was. You fixed your hair and the necklace with your house’s sigil; a beautiful silver falcon laid between your breasts.
Ser Gwindon hurried to your side to open the doors for you. You walked inside quite confidently but when the doors closed behind you and you spotted the silhouette standing by the hearth and facing away from you, you frowned.
“Husband,” you greeted him, coldly.
Baelor smiled gently before turning around and looking at you. He took his sweet time as he focused on every detail; your headpiece, the blush put on your cheeks, your dark blue corset and a beautiful necklace between your squeezed breasts. Your fur coat, the wrinkles of your dress and the way they curved around your hips.
Then he looked up again to smile a bit wider at the frown upon your pretty face.
“Wife,” he greeted you. “It’s been a while.”
“I didn’t expect you here,” you shrugged, allowing the fur coat to slip from your arms and slide down onto the floor. You stepped out of it and approached one of the armchairs to sit down on it in a nonchalant manner.
“You thought I would let you take my daughter away and run back home while I do nothing about it?” He asked, raising an eyebrow as he looked down at you.
“I thought you would send one of your guards. I didn’t expect you personally,” you rolled your eyes before focusing them on your hand. You wanted an excuse to avoid his gaze, so you adjusted the rings on your fingers.
Baelor sighed.
He looked around and eventually sat on the sofa, which was near the armchair you were occupying. He leaned closer towards you but you persistently avoided laying your eyes on him.
“I demand for you to come back home,” he said, trying to sound soft and gentle despite the nature of his request.
“I am home.”
Baelor closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead with his fingers. It would be a long conversation.
The room was quiet. It was so early in the morning that the sun was barely rising but you hadn’t slept for the whole night long, too busy giving birth to a beautiful Princess that was now resting in your arms. Charming little girl with your eyes and her father’s Dornish dark hair. Amongst them there were a few silver hairs which would probably turn into a silver streak like her older brother’s.
Baelor was sitting by your bed, looking over your shoulder at the little babe in your arms. He was smiling softly but he didn’t want to bother you with his talking. You were exhausted, after all.
You were the first one to talk.
“You must be glad it is a girl,” you mumbled out, your voice weak and raspy.
Baelor blinked a few times before looking at you.
“I am very pleased, yes,” he nodded, unsure of the meaning behind your words. He reached out to caress your hair. “I’ve always wanted a daughter.”
“This is not what I mean,” you rolled your eyes with a sigh. Your husband furrowed his brows. “If she was a boy, there could be a war coming.”
“War about the succession?” Baelor chuckled, nervously.
He wondered why you were ever thinking of that. Valarr was his heir and nothing would change that. He squinted his eyes at you. He had been sure you loved his boys like your own sons but now he began to worry.
“I know that Valarr is your heir. If we had a son, he would feel… overlooked,” you explained.
“He would be loved and cherished the same,” Baelor assured you.
“Does not matter now. Our babe is a girl,” you whispered to the little one as you leaned in to kiss the top of her soft head. “You and I, my little one,” you said to her quietly. “We will remain nothing but footnotes in your father’s history of reign.”
Baelor sighed and looked away. He didn’t want to argue with you in a moment like that.
Princess Daenerys was two years old when you overheard your husband’s conversation with his father after one of the Small Council meetings. They were discussing the prospects of Valarr’s future marriage. The boy was only eight years old but it was never too early with such matters.
For the past two years you had been waiting for this day to come. You braced yourself for the conversation with your Lord Husband as he entered your shared chambers and smiled at you. You were spread on the sofa and pretending to read a book.
“How was the meeting?” You asked, reaching out to him and he approached you, taking your hand in his and allowing you to caress his chest.
“Promising,” he answered. “How are you today, my love?”
“Good,” you nodded and put the book away. “I overheard a conversation between you and your father earlier,” you bit on your lower lip.
Baelor raised an eyebrow as he hummed to himself.
“What conversation, darling wife?” He asked, walking around the sofa to sit on the armrest and caress your hair. You looked up to meet his mismatched gaze with the most devoted look you could manage.
“You want to find a noble girl from Essos for your sweet son,” you said and Baelor nodded.
“Yes, we believe such an alliance would be a powerful move.”
“Nonsense,” you shook your head and your husband furrowed his brows at your sudden harshness. You softened immediately. “I mean, there are other ways of creating alliances and marriages do not guarantee anything. Besides, our cultures differ too much. This poor woman would be lost here and Valarr would be the most unhappy with her as well.”
“You cannot know that,” Baelor chuckled.
“Oh, but I do know,” you assured him.
“What would you suggest then?” He asked, calmly. He caressed your cheek now, soothingly moving his thumb along your jaw.
He had learnt already, very early in your marriage, that you loved to be asked for advice and opinion.
“Another reason why I don’t think a wife from Essos would be a good idea is that… people gossip, my Prince,” you whispered. “People whisper that the Targaryen dynasty no longer resembles itself. The Dornish blood is too strong.”
Baelor listened patiently, knowing very well that you would eventually get to the point. He only nodded to let you know he was listening and understanding the meaning of your words.
“I think there is a way to please everyone,” you suggested, carefully. You batted your eyelashes just in case.
“I am listening, darling.”
“Daenerys should be Valarr’s queen,” you said and caught your breath while your heart pounded.
A short silence occurred. Baelor froze and retreated his hand from your cheek.
“You know why it is not a good idea,” he whispered. Your hopeful smile dropped. “In fact, I am shocked that you are the one to propose it.”
“Why so?”
“Because you are no Targaryen. Other Houses frown upon this tradition.”
“They are only half-siblings,” you pouted. “It is not that bad. And their children have a higher chance of looking like… real Targaryens. People will be pleased.”
“Valarr is the future King. His marriage is an opportunity to create a powerful alliance that we might need in the future,” Baelor shook his head and stood up to approach the window.
“But…” You reached after him but he was out of your grasp. You huffed and crossed your arms.
“Apart from the fact the Targaryen blood would become a bit more pure, I see no reason for this alliance. And the purity of this family’s blood is not my concern either. There are no dragons anymore, we don’t need to marry within our kin,” Baelor said, looking out of the window.
You were angry now. Not only did your little plan fail but he also seemed to be stubborn about his decision.
“Do you truly care so little for me?” You asked, quietly.
That sentence caused Baelor to turn around nearly immediately as he looked down at your figure, still spread out on that sofa.
“What are you talking about?” He asked, approaching you.
He should have been wiser and known that there had been a hidden agenda about you from the moment you had mentioned the conversation between him and his father.
“You claim you love me no less than Lady Jena yet you refuse me and our offspring the same rights…” You pointed out.
Baelor closed his eyes and took a deep breath again.
“Here we go again…”
“No! Do not dismiss me! The way I feel is valid and I deserve to be heard,” you stood up and he opened his eyes to look at you again. “If my daughter becomes the Queen of Westeros, it means I will be the Queen Mother one day, not just an unimportant Queen Dowager no one cares about–”
“How nice. You are already planning out my death,” Baelor smiled ironically.
“Only foolish Princes and Kings do not have a plan for what happens after their passing. Last time it happened, we had The Dance of the Dragons,” you snapped. “If Daenerys becomes Valarr’s Queen, she will be as important as him and I will be a grandmother of future Kings. Just like your first wife will be remembered as. This one alliance would not be for the realm but for your family. Matarys can marry a girl from Essos for all I care,” you shrugged your arms and took a sharp breath in.
Baelor stood there in silence for a while. Eventually, he nodded his head but it was not to agree with your proposal. It was a simple gesture to let you know he understood all your words.
“No,” was all he said. You opened your mouth again to protest but he raised his hand to shush you. “My answer is final and I do not wish to discuss this again. This one is too important for me to let you influence me like that.”
You went speechless at his words.
“I understand,” you muttered out through gritted teeth before leaving the room in a hurry.
You didn’t talk to him for the rest of the day and he ignored it because it was not the first time you would do such a thing. He thought it would pass eventually as it always did.
Next day, when he left the Red Keep to deal with a business in the Crownlands, you packed Daenerys and yourself before leaving for The Vale.
Baelor was staring at the fire for a long moment of silence before finally looking at you again. You were looking up at the ornamented high ceiling.
“My darling, I miss you,” he tried a different approach. “I miss my wife and my daughter. The boys miss you, too. Matarys is crying every day.”
You moved uncomfortably. You were stubborn and spoiled but you were not cruel. You felt bad for the Princes, especially little Matarys. Lady Jena had died giving birth to him so you were the only mother he knew.
“I couldn’t take them with me. They are yours more than mine,” you explained. “I wanted to, though.”
“They don’t understand what is happening. And, to be honest, I do not either,” Baelor confessed. You finally laid your sharp Arryn eyes on him.
“I explained everything but you said you didn’t wish to discuss it further because I was unimportant.”
“I did not say the last part,” Baelor sighed and rolled his eyes.
“You said the choice was too important for me to have an influence on it,” you reminded him. “How was I supposed to feel? I thought being married to the heir to the throne would have some privileges but apparently all I’m good for is giving birth to equally unimportant Princesses or helping your mother to choose the colour of the clothes laid upon the royal tables.”
Baelor was the one to fidget with the rings on his fingers this time. It was not his intention to make you feel this way.
“How do you think it would work out? Forcing them to marry? Brother and sister?” Baelor asked.
You looked more intensely at him. So, he was willing to discuss it further after all? You tried very hard to hide your smirk.
“If it is decided now, they will grow up knowing what is waiting for them and they will get used to the idea. Daenerys is only two, Valarr is eight.”
“It is six years of difference. When do you propose they get married?” Baelor asked.
“There is a bigger gap between us than them,” you reminded him. “She would have to be ten and eight at least. He would be only four and twenty by that time. That is still very young for a man.”
Baelor sighed and winced slightly as he looked away. It seemed that you had everything thought out already. Probably already planned out your outfit for the occasion.
“For how long have you been thinking of this?” He inquired.
You were surprised by this question. Something about it sounded more like an accusation.
“Ever since I held her for the first time and saw the silver streak in her hair, which gave me an idea,” you admitted truthfully.
“And if I still don’t agree, I assume you are staying here with your parents?”
“Yes,” you nodded without hesitation. “I am not important at court and neither is my daughter. We can live here. Many married couples live separately.”
“Not many married couples are in the centre of attention like ours,” Baelor pointed out. “We have to keep up appearances for the sake of the whole dynasty.”
“Well, then…” You shrugged. “It is up to you now.”
Baelor pinched the bridge of his nose. When he had been told to marry a younger woman from The Vale all those years ago, he hadn’t expected she would have such a hold on him. He had expected a woman intimidated by him, his age, experience and position at court. But you were nothing like that. And that was one of the reasons why he had fallen for you.
“If I… If I promised to bring this matter to my father… Would you go back home?” He asked.
“You must think me a fool!” You stood up abruptly. “This conversation is a waste of time,” you huffed, approaching your fur coat that was laying on the floor. You grabbed it angrily to put it back on, so you could leave the room.
“What do you mean? I am trying to look for a solution here. Have you ever learnt about the meaning of the word compromise?” Baelor stood up as well as he approached you, already losing his temper a little.
“You are trying to lure me back home with false promises!” You turned around to face him.
You froze when you realised how close he was standing. You didn’t expect him to be right behind you.
“Home?” He asked with a smirk. “So, the Red Keep is your home after all?”
You cursed yourself in your head. You shouldn’t have said that.
“I just want to be important. I want my daughter to matter,” you said.
“I know. But you ran away like a brat instead of trying to solve it like adults would,” Baelor pointed out.
“I am not your property for you to silence me whenever you wish to, husband!” You exclaimed right into his face. “I felt disrespected so I left!”
“You are my wife!” Baelor finally snapped as he raised his voice, which caught you off-guard. “You are my wife and you have no right to escape like that! What if you were hurt?!”
He calmed himself down immediately after, feeling extremely stupid for raising his voice at you as his cheeks flushed.
“Forgive me, I–”
He didn’t finish because your hands were cupping his cheeks already as you brought his face down to kiss him hungrily. Baelor’s eyes widened before he closed them and kissed you back, his arms wrapping around you clumsily, causing your fur coat to fall onto the floor once more. He was glad for it because now he could pull you even closer to his chest.
“I am your wife,” you breathed out after breaking the kiss, looking deep into his mismatched eyes. “And you will show me respect as such.”
Baelor chuckled weakly. Seven Hells, he could not argue anymore.
And most importantly, he could not risk leaving The Vale without you and Daenerys. He wouldn’t survive another few weeks without your kisses, pouts, scoffs and eye rolls.
“I will announce to my father that our decision is final,” he sighed.
“We are heading back home on the morrow then,” you patted his cheek. “Let me inform my Lord Father,” you left his arms to once again reach for the fur coat and leave the room with a triumphant smile.
Little Valarr winced a little as he was standing in front of you and his father. Daenerys was on your lap and Matarys was by your side, clinging to you while your hand was caressing his ginger hair softly.
“M-marry her?” Valarr looked at the babe suspiciously.
“Once you two are adults, of course,” you assured him. “You love your sister, do you not, darling?”
“Because you will be the King one day, son,” Baelor explained, leaning in to be on his son’s eye-level. “And we want Daenerys to be your Queen.”
“Would you want a complete stranger to come here for you to become her husband? Would you want to send little Daenerys away one day to a complete stranger for her to become his wife?” You tried a different approach. Valarr widened his eyes and shook his head. “You see? This way you both are safe from that fate.”
Valarr walked up to you carefully and he leaned in to kiss Daenerys’ forehead. The girl giggled.
“I will take care of you, sister,” Valarr promised her and you caressed his hair lovingly.
They had the same silver streak in their hair. You wondered if there was any chance for their children to have heads full of silver hair like their ancestors had.
“It is nothing for you or her to worry about for a long time now. We just wished for you to know,” Baelor explained to his son and caressed his cheek. The boy nodded.
“Thank you, Father,” he said.
Daenerys yawned and you chuckled as you nodded at the maid. She approached you to take the babe from you and carry her to the nursery. Meanwhile, Valarr took Matarys by his hand and they went back to their maester for their classes.
You were left alone with your husband now. You stood up with a happy smile and you fixed your dress in the mirror.
“Are you happy?” Baelor asked.
“Yes, very much,” you nodded and bit your lower lip before turning around to face him again.
“Oh no…” He whined.
“What is it?”
“That mischievous look in your eye. You’re up to no good again,” Baelor pointed out.
“Excuse me? The mischievous look? Husband, what is it that you are suggesting?” You chuckled and walked up to him to sit on his lap. He wrapped his arms around you and you cupped his cheeks with a smirk. “Are you implying I have another wicked idea?”
“Yes, that is what I am implying, my impossible woman,” he shook his head with a chuckle.
You had no idea how long it had taken him to convince his father to let Valarr marry Daenerys. If you had an idea as demanding in your head now, he had to brace himself mentally.
“I do not possess any ideas at the moment,” you assured him sweetly. “But I do have something to tell you,” your eyes sparkled.
“Yes, what is it?” He inquired, raising his eyebrows at you.
“I am expecting,” you giggled and pressed your lips to his to give him a peck. He froze at first and didn’t even kiss you back.
“You… You are certain?”
“Yes, the maester confirmed it,” you nodded and moved your hands to the back of his head now as you caressed the short hair there with your fingers. “Do you know what it means?”
“That Matarys’ wife is in the making?” Baelor laughed.
“Do not be daft!” You scolded him teasingly as you laughed. “No, not at all.”
“What then? Is the war of succession still possible?” Baelor taunted.
“Hm, I don’t think so, no…” You hummed to yourself.
“What then?”
“It must have happened in The Vale,” you smiled at the mention of the night you had spent in your husband’s arms after he had come to the Eyrie for you.
You had been there for a few weeks and not pregnant during that time. On the road back home there were no occasions to lay together and if you became pregnant after returning to the Red Keep, it would be too early to tell.
It had to happen then.
And judging by what night it had been, it was no surprise.
Baelor smirked when he realised that as well. He squeezed your body tighter and leaned in to kiss both of your cheeks.
“I love you,” he whispered.
“Oh, I know,” you assured him and rubbed your nose with his. “And I love you, too.”
He sighed and pecked your lips to make up for the fact he had been too shocked to kiss you back the last time.
Ned Stark, Robert Baratheon, Alyssa Arryn (OC) circa 281 AC
Lady Alyssa Arryn, born 258 AC, to Lord Jon Arryn and his second lady wife, Rowena Arryn, had been raised as the heir to the Vale. She had a relatively isolated childhood with it being her and her father alone for years in the Eyrie. Her mother had died of a winter chill while she was but a young girl. She grew into a solemn child, so to remedy this, her father had sought out wards to foster in the Vale by the end of this winter and landed on Robert Baratheon and Eddard Stark(or they were at the least the ones that were the best fit as she clashed terribly with Lyonel Corbray). The three of them, Robert, Ned, and Alyssa, were inseparable. To Alyssa, she gained two brothers, and she loved them dearly. Even if Robert has a bad habit of trying to flirt with her.
Born in 259 AC, Lady Sharra is the cousin of Lord Yohn Royce and Lady Alayne, Lord Jon Arryn's second wife. She is independent and witty, and is a master of the rune magic employed by House Royce. She moves to The Eyrie in 274 AC to serve as a lady-in-waiting to her cousin Alayne, and soon forms a friendship with Ser Hugo Arryn, Lord Jon's much younger brother. Following the death of her cousin due to complications during the birth of a daughter, Henrietta, Hugo and Sharra are urged to wed, to improve the chances of the Arryn male line continuing. Their wedding takes place in 276, and their first child, a girl they name Lucille, is born a year later. The couple are absent from the infamous tournament at Harrenhal, along with the wedding of Lord Eddard Stark and Lady Alyssandra Tully, due to Sharra being in the final moons of her second pregnancy. Another girl, Penelope, is born a mere moon before Robert's Rebellion begins. The birth of a third girl, leaving no male heir younger than Ser Hugo, is generally considered to be what pushed Lord Jon Arryn to wed young Lady Lysa Tully shortly thereafter; however, Lady Sharra would produce a son much sooner than her young good-sister, under the eighth moon of 282 AC.
faceclaim: Feyza Sevil Güngör
Ser Hugo Arryn
Ser Hugo Arryn is born in 258 AC, thirty-eight years after Lord Jon Arryn, to Lord Jasper and Lady Alyssa; a surprise, to be certain, given the fair lady's age, but a highly welcome one, given that the only other children the couple had produced were two girls, one who had became a septa and the other who had sailed across The Narrow Sea with a Pentoshi husband. Hugo is a kind and patient man, generous with his children and adoring with his wife. He is the epitome of a knight—always looking out for the vulnerable, always willing to lend a hand, always brave and respectful and diligent. Hugo became quite close with Eddard Stark and Robert Baratheon during their time fostering at The Eyrie, and it is whispered that he and Lord Stark were more fond of each other than was entirely proper—a fondness that, if certain tellings are to be believed, was not damped by their marriages but instead was quite enjoyed by the respective ladies. (Of course, Lady Alyssandra Tully's deep, abiding affection for Prince Oberyn of Sunspear is well known, as is her and Lord Stark's appreciation of Ser Jaime Lannister, so it is within reason to speculate that the pair also welcomed The Moonlit Knight and The Bronze Dagger into their bed.)
faceclaim: Toby Regbo
Lucille & Penelope Arryn
Ser Hugo and Lady Sharra's daughters are born in 277 and 280 AC respectively. Both are charming, witty girls, quite capable in politics and rather prone to holding grudges. They are usually seen together, following behind their lady mother, ready to smile at and speak musically to whomever they may pass, gentle faces hiding sharp minds and cutting tongues.
faceclaims: Holliday Grainger & Kayra Zabcı
Jasper Arryn
Jasper's birth in 282 AC brings a sense of relief to House Arryn—a boy of the next generation, to continue the male line. He is a well-mannered and brave boy, much like his father, and, also similar to his father, takes a quick liking to Robb Stark, upon meeting him in 286 AC at a tournament held at Riverrun to celebrate the arrival of spring. The two boys are seen hand in hand at every event the families attend thereafter, Robb's brother Jon and cousin Steffon Baratheon always beside them. In reciprocity for Lord Stark's own fostering, Jasper is sent to Winterfell in 290. He travels with the Starks to King's Landing in 296 for the Tournament of The Hand, and escapes with them following the death of King Robert Baratheon. Jasper remains steadfastly at the side of Lord Lion's Bane throughout The War of Succession and beyond, becoming the sworn sword of Robb's wife, Lady Margaery Tyrell, along with her brother, Ser Loras.
posts about Jasper | faceclaim: William Moseley
Lady Henrietta Arryn
The only child of Lord Jon Arryn and his second wife, Lady Alayne Royce, Henrietta, born in 275 AC, is a sweet and thoughtful girl. She has a rather interesting relationship with her father's third wife, Lady Lysa Tully, being rather more like sisters than anything else. This brings Henrietta into close contact with Petyr Baelish, a man for whom straightforward relationships seem to be impossible to form. Regardless of the Master of Coin's machinations, Henrietta plays amongst the High Court quite well, forming a sincere and deep friendship with King Robert's younger brother, Prince Renly, and through him developing a strong bond with Princess Catelyn Tully. In 290 AC, Henrietta is betrothed to Jon Stark (Snow), in a further show of the continued alliance between Winterfell and The Eyrie.
posts about Henrietta | faceclaim: Synnøve Karlsen
Ser Vorian Dayne
The younger brother of Ser Gerold Dayne, Vorian is born in 271 AC and is sent to King's Landing in 282 to squire for whichever member of the Kingsguard has need of him, as a gesture of good faith between House Dayne and the newly crowned King Robert Baratheon. Assigned to Lord Commander Ser Barristan Selmy, Vorian quickly becomes a sharp-eyed swordsman, his talent, according to Ser Barristan, rivaling his late cousin Ser Arthur. In 287 AC, Vorian is knighted by King Robert himself, and immediately is claimed by The Hand’s daughter as her personal guard. Vorian continues to serve Lady Henrietta through many tumultuous years, guarding her as she journeys to Dragonstone, then to Winterfell, and eventually The Wall.
THE SERIE MENU. + English Ver. + Archive Of Our Own. + THE GUILD OF DRAGONLINGS SERVER. + Playlist. ₊‧
𝐈.𝐈. 𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒. *⊹:
Modifications comparées au support original.
Dans les livres, Rhaenyra est née en 97 AC. Elle épouse Ser Laenor Velaryon en 114 AC, à 17 ans. Elle donne ensuite naissance à Jacaerys, Lucerys et Joffrey respectivement en 114 AC, 115 AC et 116 AC. Dans Le Dragon Vert Et La Wyverne Noire, Rhaenyra est née en 94 AC, et épouse Ser Laenor Velaryon en 111 AC, toujours à 17 ans. Elle donne naissance aux jumeaux Jaehaena et Haenar en 111 AC, Jacaerys en 112 AC, Lucerys en 113 AC et Joffrey en 114 AC.
Alicent est également née en 94 AC, plutôt qu'en 88 AC. Aussi, Daeron est né en 113 AC, et non pas en 114 AC, comme dans les livres.
𝐈.𝐈𝐈. 𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐒. *⊹:
Les arbres généalogiques avec les personnages originaux.
Les personnages en rouge sont des personnages originaux.
⤝ MAISON TARGARYEN.*𖧧₊‧
ROI VISERYS I TARGARYEN.
↬ REINE AEMMA ARRYN.✸
𖦹. RHAENYRA TARGARYEN❟ née en 94 AC, 54 ans en 148 AC. (selon mes modifications)
↬ LAENOR VELARYON.✸
𖦹. JAEHAENA VELARYON❟ née en 111 AC, 37 ans en 148 AC, mariée en 129 AC à 18 ans. Jumelle d'Haenar.
𖦹. HAENAR VELARYON❟ né en 111 AC, 37 ans en 148 AC, marié en 129 AC à 18 ans. Jumeau de Jaehaena.
𖦹. JACAERYS VELARYON❟ né en 112 AC, 36 ans en 148 AC, marié en 133 AC à 21 ans. (selon mes modifications)
↬ BAELA TARGARYEN.✸
𖦹. LUCERYS VELARYON❟ né en 113 AC, 35 ans en 148 AC, marié en 134 AC à 21 ans. (selon mes modifications)
↬ RHAENA TARGARYEN.✸
𖦹. JOFFREY VELARYON❟ né en 114 AC, 34 ans en 148 AC, marié en 136 AC à 22 ans. (selon mes modifications)
↬ DAEMON TARGARYEN.✸
𖦹. AEGON ❛ LE JEUNE ❜ TARGARYEN.
𖦹. VISERYS TARGARYEN.
𖦹. VISENYA TARGARYEN.
↬ REINE ALICENT HIGHTOWER❟ née en 94 AC, 54 ans en 148 AC. (selon mes modifications).✸
𖦹. AEGON ❛ L'ANCIEN ❜ TARGARYEN.
↬ HELAENA TARGARYEN.✸
𖦹. JAEHAERYS TARGARYEN.
𖦹. JAEHAERA TARGARYEN.
𖦹. MAELOR TARGARYEN.
𖦹. HELAENA TARGARYEN.
𖦹. AEMOND TARGARYEN.
↬ JAEHAENA VELARYON.✸
𖦹. DAERON TARGARYEN❟ né en 113 AC, 35 ans en 148 AC. (selon mes modifications)DAEMON TARGARYEN.
↬ LAENA VELARYON.✸
𖦹. BAELA TARGARYEN.
𖦹. RHAENA TARGARYEN.
BAELYS TARGARYEN❟ née en 83 AC, 65 ans en 148 AC. Sœur cadette du Roi Viserys I Targaryen et du Prince Daemon Targaryen et sœur aînée du Prince Aegon Targaryen.
↬ AUSTYN BARATHEON.
MAISON BARATHEON.
⤝ MAISON VELARYON.*𖧧₊‧
CORLYS VELARYON.
↬ RHAENYS TARGARYEN.✸
𖦹. LAENA VELARYON.
↬ DAEMON TARGARYEN.✸
𖦹. LAENOR VELARYON.
↬ RHAENYRA TARGARYEN.✸
DAETHAN VELARYON❟* né en 56 AC, 72 ans en 128 AC, décédé en 129 AC à 73 ans. ↬ MENELLE DE NORVOS❟** née en 60 AC, 68 ans en 128 AC.✸
𖦹. VAEMOND VELARYON.
↬ SYBIL DYNYR DE PENTOS❟ née en 88 AC, 40 ans en 128 AC.✸
𖦹. DAERON VELARYON.
↬ HAZEL HARTE.✸
𖦹. DAENAERA VELARYON.
𖦹. DAEMION VELARYON.
MAERON VELARYON❟* né en 60 AC, 68 ans en 128 AC. ↬ DELYLAH CELTIGAR❟** née en 70 AC, 58 ans en 128 AC. Cousine de Lady Meleri Celtigar.✸
𖦹. MALENTINE VELARYON.
𖦹. RHOGAR VELARYON.
* Corlys à deux frères non-nommés dans les livres. Je les ai simplement nommés.
** Les deux frères non-nommés de Corlys ont des épouses. Je les ai nommées, mais ai également créé des personnages de Norvos et de la Maison Celtigar.
⤝ MAISON HIGHTOWER.*𖧧₊‧
LORD HIGHTOWER❟ Seigneur de la Grand-Tour et chef de la Maison Hightower en 89 AC.
↬ ÉPOUSE INCONNUE.✸
𖦹. LORD HIGHTOWER❟ Seigneur de la Grand-Tour et chef de la Maison Hightower durant la fin du règne du Roi Jaehaerys I Targaryen et du Roi Viserys I Targaryen.
↬ ÉPOUSE INCONNUE.✸
𖦹. ORMUND HIGHTOWER❟ Seigneur de la Grand-Tour et chef de la Maison Hightower durant la Danse des Dragons.
↬ PREMIÈRE ÉPOUSE INCONNUE.✸
𖦹. LYONEL HIGHTOWER.
↬ SAMANTHA TARLY.✸
𖦹. LILYN HIGHTOWER.**
𖦹. SYMOND HIGHTOWER.**
𖦹. THOMOS HIGHTOWER.**
𖦹. GWENDYS HIGHTOWER.**
𖦹. SAMUREL HIGHTOWER.**
𖦹. CHARLYNE HIGHTOWER.**
𖦹. MARTYN HIGHTOWER.
𖦹. GARMUND HIGHTOWER.
𖦹. BETHANY HIGHTOWER.
↬ SAMANTHA TARLY.✸
𖦹. OTTO HIGHTOWER.
↬ ALERIE FLORENT.✸
𖦹. REINE ALICENT HIGHTOWER.
↬ ROI VISERYS I TARGARYEN.✸
MAISON TARGARYEN.
𖦹. MARTHEW HIGHTOWER.*
𖦹. DANNIS HIGHTOWER.*
𖦹. GWAYNE HIGHTOWER.
SER HIGHTOWER.
↬ ÉPOUSE INCONNUE.✸
𖦹. CHRISTOR HIGHTOWER.
↬ ÉPOUSE COSTAYNE INCONNUE.✸
𖦹. DARRETH HIGHTOWER.
↬ ALINE MERRYWEATHER.✸
𖦹. ELYSE HIGHTOWER❟ Cousine de la Reine Alicent Hightower et dame de compagnie de la Princesse Helaena Targaryen.
𖦹. GARTH HIGHTOWER.
↬ ÉPOUSE CUY INCONNUE.✸
𖦹. TOMAN HIGHTOWER.
↬ PENELOPE ORME.✸
𖦹. MONIRA HIGHTOWER❟ Cousine de la Reine Alicent Hightower et dame de compagnie de la Princesse Helaena Targaryen.
* Mis à part Alicent et Gwayne, Otto à d'autres fils dans les livres. En revanche, il n'est pas dit combien. De ce fait, je n'en ai créé que deux autres.
** Lyonel et Samantha ont, dans les livres, eu six enfants. Cependant, il n'est pas mentionné combien de filles et de fils ils ont eu. Je les ai simplement nommés et ai choisi leur genre.
⤝ MAISON BARATHEON.*𖧧₊‧
ROGAR BARATHEON.
↬ REINE DOUAIRIÈRE ALYSSA VELARYON.✸
𖦹. BOREMUND BARATHEON❟ Seigneur d'Accalmie et Seigneur suzerain des Terres de l'Orage durant le Grand Conseil de 101 AC.
↬ ÉPOUSE INCONNUE.✸
𖦹. BORROS BARATHEON❟ Seigneur d'Accalmie et Seigneur suzerain des Terres de l'Orage durant la Danse des Dragons.
↬ ELEANDA CARON.✸
𖦹. CASSANDRA BARATHEON.
𖦹. MARIS BARATHEON.
𖦹. ELLYN BARATHEON.
𖦹. FLORIS BARATHEON.
𖦹. ROYCE BARATHEON.
𖦹. JOCELYN BARATHEON.
↬ AEMON TARGARYEN.✸
𖦹. RHAENYS TARGARYEN.
↬ CORLYS VELARYON.✸
𖦹. LAENOR VELARYON.
↬ RHAENYRA TARGARYEN.✸
𖦹. LAENA VELARYON.
↬ DAEMON TARGARYEN.✸
MAISON TARGARYEN.
BORYS BARATHEON.
↬ ÉPOUSE INCONNUE.✸
𖦹. BRENNAR BARATHEON.
↬ ÉPOUSE INCONNUE.✸
𖦹. ROBART BARATHEON.
↬ ÉPOUSE LONBEC INCONNUE.✸
𖦹. ORYS BARATHEON❟ né en 108 AC, 20 ans en 128 AC.
↬ MARYBEL SELMY❟ née en 109 AC, 19 ans en 128 AC .✸
𖦹. EDRIC BARATHEON❟ né en 127 AC, 1 an en 128 AC.
GARON BARATHEON.
↬ ÉPOUSE INCONNUE.✸
𖦹. CORREN BARATHEON.
↬ ÉPOUSE INCONNUE.✸
𖦹. BRENNARD BARATHEON.
↬ ÉPOUSE HORPE INCONNUE.✸
𖦹. DONOVAR BARATHEON❟ né en 60 AC, 68 ans en 128 AC.
↬ SHENNEN MORRIGEN❟ née en 60 AC, 68 ans en 128 AC.✸
𖦹. MADDISEN BARATHEON❟ né en 80 AC, 48 ans en 128 AC, 68 ans en 148 AC.
𖦹. AUSTYN BARATHEON❟ né en 82 AC, 46 ans en 128 AC, 66 ans en 148 AC.
↬ BAELYS TARGARYEN❟ née en 83 AC, 45 ans en 128 AC, 65 ans en 148 AC.✸
𖦹. HAEMON BARATHEON❟ né en 99 AC, 29 ans en 128 AC, 49 ans en 148 AC.
𖦹. DAERYS BARATHEON❟ née en 101 AC, 47 ans en 148 AC, mariée à Artys Arryn en 117 AC à 16 ans, mariée à Haenar Velaryon en 129 AC à 28 ans.
↬ ARTYS ARRYN.✸
MAISON ARRYN.
𖦹. ORRYN BARATHEON❟ né en 104 AC, 24 ans en 128 AC, 44 ans en 148 AC.
RONNAL BARATHEON.
↬ ÉPOUSE INCONNUE.✸
𖦹. FILS.
𖦹. FILLE.
𖦹. FILLE.
ORRYN BARATHEON.
↬ FILLE DE L'ARCHONTE DE TYROSH.✸
𖦹. FILLE.
⤝ MAISON ARRYN.*𖧧₊‧
RODRIK ARRYN.
↬ PREMIÈRE ÉPOUSE INCONNUE.✸
𖦹. ELYS ARRYN.
𖦹. AMANDA ARRYN.
𖦹. MATTHOS ARRYN❟ fils aîné non-nommé de Rodrik Arryn par sa première femme.
↬ VANESSA SUNDERLAND.✸
𖦹. ARTYS ARRYN❟ né en 88 AC, marié en 117 AC à 29 ans, décédé en 122 AC à 34 ans. L'un des des deux fils non-nommés de Lord Rodrik Arryn par sa première femme. Neveu de la Reine Aemma Arryn et cousin de la Princesse Héritière Rhaenyra Targaryen.
↬ DAERYS BARATHEON.✸
𖦹. HUGO ARRYN❟ né en 118 AC, 10 ans en 128 AC, 30 ans en 148 AC. Jumeau de Rory.
𖦹. RORY ARRYN❟ né en 118 AC, 10 ans en 128 AC, 30 ans en 148 AC. Jumeau d'Hugo.
𖦹. DARNOLD ARRYN❟ fils cadet non-nommé de Rodrik Arryn par sa première femme.
↬ DAELLA TARGARYEN.✸
𖦹. AEMMA ARRYN.
↬ VISERYS TARGARYEN.✸
MAISON TARGARYEN.
⤝ CHAPITRE UN❟ ❝ ENFANTS D'UN SANG ANCIEN ❞.*𖧧₊‧
DES TERRES DE LA COURONNE. ⊰‧₊˚･
𖦹. MELERI CELTIGAR❟ Fille de Lord Bartimos Celtigar, sœur cadette de Lord Clément Celtigar et cousine de Lady Delylah Celtigar. Dame de compagnie de la Princesse Jaehaena Velaryon.
𖦹. ADELINE MALLERY❟ Dame de compagnie de la Princesse Helaena Targaryen. 𖦹. TIFFALY❟ Servante de la Princesse Jaehaena Velaryon.
𖦹. MEREDYTH❟ Servante de la Princesse Jaehaena Velaryon.
𖦹. HAENAR VELARYON.
DES TERRES DE L'OUEST. ⊰‧₊˚･
𖦹. ALINE MARBRAND❟ Dame de compagnie de la Reine Alicent Hightower.
𖦹. CERELLE LANNISTER❟ Dame de compagnie de la Princesse Helaena Targaryen.
𖦹. EDRYD SWYFT❟ Bouclier Lige de la Princesse Jaehaena Velaryon.
DES TERRES DE L'ORAGE. ⊰‧₊˚･
𖦹. AMILLE TARTH❟ Fille de Lord Cameron Tarth, sœur aînée de Lord Bryndemere Tarth et dame de compagnie de la Princesse Jaehaena Velaryon.
𖦹. DELANIE SWYGERT❟ Dame de compagnie de la Reine Alicent Hightower.
DU BIEF. ⊰‧₊˚･
𖦹. SOFIE FLORENT❟ Dame de compagnie et cousine de la Reine Alicent Hightower.
𖦹. MALISSA TARLY❟ Dame de compagnie de la Reine Alicent Hightower.
𖦹. ELYSE HIGHTOWER❟ Cousine de la Reine Queen Alicent Hightower et dame de compagnie de la Princesse Helaena Targaryen.
DU VAL. ⊰‧₊˚･
𖦹. JANYCE ARRYN DE GOËVILLE❟ Dame de compagnie de la Princesse Jaehaena Velaryon.
⤝ CHAPITRE DEUX❟ .⊹˖˚‧
DU BIEF. ⊰‧₊˚･
𖦹. MARTHEW HIGHTOWER.
𖦹. DANNIS HIGHTOWER.
⤝ CHAPITRE TROIS❟ .*𖧧₊‧
DES TERRES DE COURONNE. ⊰‧₊˚･
𖦹. CELESSE REYNE❟ Cousine de Ser Martyn Reyne et dame de compagnie de la Princesse Héritière Rhaenyra Targaryen.
DU CONFLANS. ⊰‧₊˚･
𖦹. HELENYS STRONG❟ Fille aînée canon non-nommée de Lord Lyonel Fort, sœur aînée de Ser Harwin Fort, Lord Larys Fort et Lady Maralyn Fort, et dame de compagnie de la Princesse Héritière Rhaenyra Targaryen.
𖦹. MARALYN STRONG❟ Fille cadette canon non-nommée de Lord Lyonel Fort, sœur cadette de Lady Helenys Fort, de Ser Harwin Fort et Lord Larys Fort, et dame de compagnie de la Princesse Héritière Rhaenyra Targaryen.
PAIRING — Prince Valarr Targaryen x fem!Reader // Arryn!OC
SUMMARY — Prince Valarr and his betrothed are a bit too much like one another – proud, arrogant and stubborn. The constant banter eventually exhausts them and they need to find a solution to make their marriage work.
REQUEST — (1)
AUTHOR’S NOTE — I loved writing an Arryn!Reader omg! 🦅 Her looks are not described, especially since we don't even know what The Arryns looked like during that time. I adore writing Valarr with women who give him a hard time, not gonna lie...! Also, I wanted to explore this side of him as well because to me (as much as I love him) he is arrogant quite a lot! That smirk when Aerion teases him, that lazy spread when he sits bored at the tourney, the way he addresses poor Dunk after the funeral and the way he looks at him... Yeah, Valarr definitely is not a pure angel all the time. 👀🤣
WORD COUNT — 7,940
ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.
AS HIGH AS HONOUR (AND ARROGANCE)
Prince Baelor Targaryen was on his way to Winterfell and requested a short stay at The Eyrie. His men and horses needed a break and so did he. Your father of course took them in eagerly.
Lord Arryn had one main agenda – for your brother Jasper to join the Kingsguard. Jasper was the second son after your eldest brother, Hubert Arryn, and he was a very young yet promising knight. Hosting Prince Baelor Targaryen himself was an opportunity, one of a kind.
The kind and honourable Prince suffered your father’s endless talk about his son’s qualities. Baelor was not angry or annoyed, though – he loved his sons the same way and he could easily understand Lord Arryn in that matter.
On the last afternoon as he was standing with your father at the courtyard, someone else caught his eye.
A young lady walking down the tower’s staircase. She was holding a big book effortlessly under her arm as she held her chin up. You.
You had been introduced to the Prince of course but he hadn’t paid you much attention until now. You were just a Lord's young daughter and you were spending most of the time with your mother or in the library.
You had to cross the courtyard to get to a different part of the castle in a faster way, therefore you walked past them and nodded at the Prince without looking down even for one moment. Your gaze was piercing, your shoulders stiffened with pride and Baelor spotted the book you were reading was about the Andals.
He smiled to himself. You reminded him of someone very much.
“...He won three tournaments the previous year. Well, two to be exact and nearly the third but the Lannister knight played him dirty, I swear, my Prince, I speak the truth,” your father was still bragging about Jasper and he didn’t even realise you walked past them.
“Your daughter,” Prince Baelor interrupted him as he looked at his face with a kind smile. Your father froze, his lips still apart with words stuck in his throat. “How old is she?” The Prince inquired.
“(Y/N)?” Lord Arryn eventually asked, swallowing thickly.
“Do you have more than one daughter, my friend?” Baelor chuckled.
“No. Only her. She is six and ten,” your father answered.
“Is she betrothed to someone?” Baelor asked casually.
“I was hoping to send her to Winterfell actually,” Lord Arryn informed as he lowered his voice.
“But nothing has been approved yet?” Baelor furrowed his brows.
“No, not at all,” your father shook his head. “I am exchanging ravens with Lord Stark. You can whisper to him a good thing about me once you’re there, my Prince. I would be the most grateful,” he smiled.
“Is young Lady Arryn in love with the Stark boy?” Baelor wondered.
“Gods, no! They have seen each other only once at a tourney but it was many years ago,” Lord Arryn laughed. “Why, my Prince? Why is my daughter’s future concerning you so?”
“Because I might bring my own offer to the table,” Baelor smiled, knowing very well that Lord Arryn would probably be pleased.
But he didn’t look as if he was. In fact, he tilted his head suspiciously.
“Forgive me, my Prince, I do not follow. Is your wife not in King’s Landing?”
“Gods!” Baelor winced when he realised the misunderstanding. “Do not be a fool, my friend!” He laughed. “I meant to offer my son, Prince Valarr. I believe they might suit each other. He is only three and ten now but in a few years–”
“Yes!” Your father nodded, eagerly. “Yes, my Prince, yes!”
“Are you sure you shouldn’t talk to your wife about it first? Perhaps your daughter, too?” Baelor chuckled at his reaction.
“I should but I know already their answer will be the same,” Lord Arryn assured. “There is only one thing I would want in return.”
“What would it be?” Baelor raised an eyebrow.
“My son, Jasper, he–”
“Let it be then!” Baelor quickly cut him off. He didn’t want to listen to it all over again.
Everyone was pleased with the union. Your father and mother, Prince Baelor, his wife – Lady Jena, The King, The Queen and The Young Prince, too. He blushed at the news and ran to the library to read everything he could about House Arryn.
You weren’t convinced, though. You knew that becoming the Queen one day was an honour you would be a fool to reject but each time you thought of leaving The Vale you were getting sick in your stomach.
And you weren’t convinced if all the praise your father was giving to The Young Prince was true. You liked to take it with skepticism because you were aware of how desperate your father was for this match to work.
Your brother – Ser Jasper – was in King’s Landing now and he would send you many letters to let you know about life in the Red Keep. Knowing that he would be there with you and guard you was calming you down a little. He was praising Prince Valarr as well as honourable and well-read. Jasper had promised you nothing but honesty before his departure – still, you remained suspicious. You doubted the Prince was half as handsome, chivalrous and smart as he was presented as.
At the age of one and twenty, not long after Valarr’s eighteenth name day, you were sent to King’s Landing to join your brother and your new family. Your father allowed you to order five new dresses for the occasion – just the way you wanted them to be.
All of them were blue.
On the morning of your departure you were crying as you stood on top of the tower and looked around. There was no place in Westeros – and perhaps in the whole world – as beautiful as your Vale. The foggy and rocky mountain tops that made you feel as if you were beyond all the rest; above them. The Kings, Queens, Lords and Ladies were nothing but small dots. You were an observing and wise falcon, far away from them.
“A new adventure awaits, (Y/N),” your mother joined you to rush you. “Come, the earlier we leave the better,” she encouraged.
You sniffled and nodded, feeling extremely heavy while turning your back away from the mountains. They were calling for you, you could hear them whisper in the wind. And perhaps you were leaving The Vale but The Vale would never leave you.
On the way to King’s Landing your father would scold you each time you cried. He wanted Prince Valarr to receive a happy bride. And he couldn’t understand why you weren’t filled with joy and excitement.
Your mother understood you more as she squeezed your arm and kissed your hair.
Prince Valarr was waiting impatiently at the courtyard. He was nervously fidgeting with the pendant he was holding in his sweaty hands. His mother gave him a sweet smile and squeezed his shoulder.
“What if she doesn’t like it?” Valarr asked, full of worry.
“The necklace is from your grandsire’s vault. It once belonged to Queen Sharra Arryn, the Flower of the Mountain,” Lady Jena reminded him. “She will be thrilled.”
At that moment the knights on horses entered the courtyard and the carriage followed them. Prince Valarr spotted Ser Jasper smiling widely.
“You might greet your family first,” he said to the knight and Ser Jasper thanked him before approaching the carriage.
“I know that this time it was not your noble nature but the anxiety before the meeting,” Prince Baelor teased his blushing son.
Ser Jasper opened the door of the carriage and watched his father emerge first. The men gave each other a hug. Then, the knight helped his mother and she squeezed him tight.
You left as the last one. Prince Valarr held his breath as he observed. Your dress was blue and it had a falcon embroidered on your chest as if you were a knight wearing an armour with the emblem on his chest.
You hugged your brother and looked around the courtyard with curious eyes. Valarr noticed that you didn’t look very impressed.
“I expected the Red Keep to be more grand,” he overheard you while you talked to your brother.
“You will get used to it,” Ser Jasper laughed.
Valarr approached you carefully. He wanted to be the first of his family to greet you but something about your facial expression at the moment intimidated him.
“My Lady?” He cleared his throat.
Ser Jasper took a step back to give you two some space as both families watched the interaction with smiles upon their faces.
You looked him up and down as if you wondered who he was.
“Prince Valarr?” You asked, unsurely. Valarr nodded. “I thought so. I was told about your odd looks.”
Valarr blinked a few times. Odd looks? Were you serious? His eyes were mismatched and he had a silver streak in his hair – his Targaryen blood was thinned out but the Valyrian genes were fighting strong. Other than that he looked perfectly normal, though.
“My Lady, I want to greet you in your new home,” he decided to ignore the interaction as he approached you closer and handed you the necklace. “Please, accept my gift.”
You looked down at his hands and furrowed your brows. You clearly had no idea what the pendant was.
“It belonged to Queen Sharra,” your brother whispered.
“Oh! Thank you, my Prince,” you took the gift and looked at it closely. “How did your family obtain it, I do wonder?” You looked into the mismatched eyes.
“I do not possess such information, I am afraid,” Valarr confessed.
“Perhaps Queen Visenya took it from Queen Sharra’s neck on the day she attacked us,” you pointed out.
An awkward silence occurred. Valarr clenched his jaw.
He hadn’t expected his betrothed to be like that. He had planned to be a gentleman but sometimes it was difficult to do.
“Perhaps,” he nodded. “After all, victors have every right to take a prize they find suiting.”
You gave him a deadly glance that caused your father to clear his throat and rush you towards Prince Baelor and his wife, so he could introduce you to them.
You were avoiding Valarr for the whole day and he was avoiding you. However, the next morning he found you at the library.
You were wearing another blue dress and seemed to be mesmerised with all the old books you had never seen before. You already formed a high pile on the desk by the window to look through.
“I’ve been told that you are a scholar,” he smirked as he crossed his arms and leaned on the wall. He decided to try again with you but with a much less gentle approach.
You had proved enough that you didn’t require to be treated like a delicate thing made out of glass.
“Can women be scholars, my Prince?” You scoffed as you turned your head around to look at him. “I simply like to read,” you shrugged and groaned slightly as you made an attempt to reach one of the books on the top shelf.
“Do you need help, my Lady?” Valarr asked.
“No, thank you, I can manage,” you scoffed.
And you truly did. You achieved it with an unladylike jump but you did. Valarr rolled his eyes and sighed.
He wasn’t used to dealing with people like you. His father was kind and honourable and his brother was quiet and timid. The only woman he spent lots of time with was his mother and she was mostly sweet.
He approached the desk on which you put all the books you saved for later. He had to admit those were good choices.
“Ah, a book about The Dothraki,” he hummed to himself. “Did you know that their braids symbolise their fertility?" He tried to impress you. “They are only allowed to braid their hair after they have fathered a son.”
You tilted your head with a mischievous sparkle in your eyes; a familiar excitement rushing through your veins. An excitement before correcting someone who was wrong.
“Not at all,” you shook your head as you snorted slightly. “They are braiding their hair after winning a victory,” you told him.
Valarr closed his mouth and blushed. He had no reason to believe you had made that up, therefore it meant he made a fool of himself.
“Forgive me, the Dothraki was not my main interest during my studies,” he pointed out.
“And what was?” You asked although you didn’t sound interested. You didn’t even look at him as you walked past him and placed the book you had just picked up next to the pile on the desk.
“Old Valyria,” Valarr said.
He wanted to tell you he had studied every book about House Arryn but he was not an idiot. He knew it would be humiliating and you would view him as weak.
“It is believed that for the sins of the dragonlords the gods in their wroth struck Valyria down,” you looked at him and smirked. “I do wonder what kind of monstrous secrets you are hiding from me,” you teased but Valarr knew that it was not a mere jest.
“My secrets are my own to keep, my Lady,” he cleared his throat, giving you an angry look.
You were impossible, he thought. Impossible to handle and impossible to like.
“And so are mine for me,” you chuckled, making him feel uneasy.
After all, he was supposed to be your husband. Your words planted a worry in his heart but he chose to say nothing. He had been the one to start it so it wouldn't be fair.
“Can you move, please?” You asked as you took a seat by the desk. “You are standing in the way of the light and there is not enough of it here. I miss The Eyrie, we never lack the light so far up in the sky,” you sighed.
Valarr moved away from your desk. In fact, he left the library altogether, clenching his fists and relaxing them a moment after. He flexed the muscles of his hands this way a few times to calm himself down while he breathed heavily.
Your parents were worried. Your mother and Lady Jena kept smiling at each other while their husbands talked.
“I am so sorry for her behaviour. I do believe that she simply misses The Vale and it is her awful way of showing it,” Lord Arryn explained, feeling embarrassed.
“I mean, my son can be arrogant as well sometimes,” Prince Baelor sighed and massaged his temples. “I taught him to value honour and chivalry but he oftentimes tends to be… strict about those. Too strict.”
“He should be more understanding. After all, the young Lady left her beloved home to be with us,” Lady Jena agreed with her husband.
“Nonsense, my Lady, she is simply acting like a brat!” Your mother protested.
Each couple insisted the fault was their child’s instead of finding a way to resolve the conflict. However, they agreed that the wedding should take place no matter what. Calling it off simply because the young couple didn’t seem to be fond of each other seemed to be stupid.
There had been many such couples in the history of Westeros. Some had eventually grown fond of each other.
Valarr finished his training and dismissed his squire at the sight of you walking beside your brother down the corridor. You were attached to Ser Jasper’s elbow and chuckling to him about something. Valarr had never seen you laughing like this before and he had to admit that a warm smile suited you.
He entered the corridor and followed you, trying to be as quiet as possible, curious about the nature of your conversation with your brother.
“...He said that the Dothraki braids were for the amount of sons fathered,” you giggled and Valarr felt his stomach twisting from embarrassment.
“Sister, please,” Ser Jasper sighed. “Why would a Prince of the Realm bother himself with barbarian customs? I do not know what is wrong with that sentence either.”
“They braid them after each victory!” You scolded your brother. “But you are a knight, not a Prince pretending to be a scholar, therefore it is alright that you did not know,” your voice turned sweeter again.
“Sister, he probably wanted to impress you,” Ser Jasper tried to reason with you.
“I know and that makes it even funnier,” you chuckled mischievously.
“You can be so cruel, (Y/N),” Ser Jasper sighed.
“I am not!” You protested. “It is not my fault that I know so many things,” you shrugged.
Valarr sighed and turned around to leave you alone with your brother.
He was sure you weren’t as smart as you presented yourself to be. There were many things he had known much more about.
Diplomacy, for example.
It was a morning on the day before your wedding. Valarr was seated by the table next to you already as some sort of practice before the celebration.
However, you remained silent for the whole meal, avoiding each other’s gaze and whenever your elbows touched, you both would flinch.
“My King,” a servant approached King Daeron. “The news from Tyrosh reached us as you requested.”
The King nodded and you furrowed your brows, wondering what that was about. You were of a curious nature. Some people would call it nosy even.
“We are reaching an agreement with Tyrosh,” Prince Baelor explained to you. “We seek a military alliance.”
You nodded your head.
“I’ve heard they make excellent warriors and sailors,” you said. “I do believe the bravest of them all are being worshipped like gods,” you added.
“Actually, trade is considered a much more honorable profession than arms in Tyrosh,” Valarr said out of the sudden, causing everyone at the table to go silent.
You clenched your jaw, feeling heat in your cheeks. You laid your angry eyes at him.
“Really?” You raised an eyebrow at his arrogant smirk. “Well, I must have been mistaken then, do forgive me. I have read so many books that oftentimes the facts mix up with one another.”
“Oh, I do know. I recommend taking side notes, I find it the most helpful whenever I study,” Valarr remarked.
You were practically trembling from anger. He was berating you now in front of the whole family that your learning methods were not sufficient enough?
“You must have forgotten to take notes while reading about the Dothraki then, my Prince,” you drawled out.
Valarr did not say anything to that but he scoffed and rolled his eyes. He was getting sick of listening to it. He had made one mistake and now you would never let it go?
Gods, you were not only arrogant but also petty.
And why was your dress blue again? He had known you for a fortnight already and each day you had been wearing a blue dress. Was your wedding gown blue as well?
It was not but you were wearing a necklace with a falcon and there were white feathers in your headpiece. Valarr could swear that he saw a tear escaping your eye when he took the Arryn cloak off of your shoulders to replace it with the Targaryen one.
He did not like anything about you but he still felt bad about it. He didn’t want his bride to cry on her wedding day or to dread him.
However, after the main ceremony inside the sept – which was awkward enough, especially during the stiff and cold kiss – you did not look unhappy any longer when the festivities began. Instead, you presented yourself as bored and annoyed. You mostly danced with your brother and granted your husband only one short dance.
“Be a good wife to him,” your father warned you, meaning every word.
So you were. After all, as a wife what other duties did you have but to lay down and take him?
When he entered the chambers, nervous and anxious, you were already spread out on the bed wearing nothing but a sheer blue nightgown that left nothing for him to imagine.
“Be quick, husband. I’m tired,” you only said.
Valarr swallowed the lump forming in his throat. He had hoped for a different approach. A part of him had hoped that your arrogance and pride would disappear for the night. That he would watch you scared and intimidated. Not that he wished to be cruel with you but he truly wanted a bit of softness.
It was the first time for him, too, after all.
He struggled from the beginning. After undressing and realising you weren’t even looking at his body but focusing on the ceiling instead, he approached you but he couldn’t force himself to get hard. As a young man without experience, he usually didn’t have any trouble with that. But something about you being so indifferent was blocking him now.
“What’s taking you so long? Do you need help or something?” You sighed and finally laid your irritated eyes on him. There was pure mockery in your voice, therefore he knew you didn’t actually want to help.
“No,” Valarr drawled out through gritted teeth. “Those things take time,” he scolded you.
“Well, my septa told me otherwise,” you shrugged your arms and went back to staring at the ceiling.
You were so proud that even when he finally managed to get himself inside of you, you did not let out a single cry. He saw you tremble and bit your lower lip until it drew blood but you made no sound of pain or discomfort. In a way it was admirable but he knew it came from your stubbornness and your strong will to never let him see any of your weaknesses.
The act itself was quick indeed. And it didn’t feel good at all. Right after, Valarr nearly felt guilty as if he had done something sinful. Meanwhile, you stood up to refresh yourself and change into a more humble gown. It had falcons embroidered around the collar.
“Good night, husband,” you only said after laying under the covers while he was still sitting on the edge of the bed and running his hands through his hair.
He nearly cried but he stopped himself because he knew you would mock him or think him weak.
It was not how he imagined his marriage to be like. His parents were so loving and happy… He had always hoped for the union like that, too.
Little did he know that you were crying silent tears as well with your back turned away from him as you were staring at the fire, pretending to be asleep. You imagined that you were still in The Vale, inside your bed and in your own chambers. That if you wanted to, you could walk up the tower and watch the mountain tops, breathe fresh air and observe the falcons flying above your head.
Not only that Targaryen Prince had forced you to leave your home but he was also so… arrogant and proud of himself. There was no romance, no grand gestures, no love confessions that would help your heart to grow fonder of him. Nothing. He only loved his own self and the image he had of himself; someone as honourable as his father.
But he was not. He had a long way ahead of him if he truly wanted to be like Prince Baelor.
Perhaps that was the reason why he was so frustrated. Perhaps he was perfectly aware of the fact that he wasn’t even half as good as his father.
You felt him finally move as he stood up to refresh himself as well and put on his nighttime attire. He laid under the covers next to you but he made sure his body did not touch yours.
Moons passed and to Baelor’s great sadness, your relationship with his son was not getting any better. The only interactions you ever shared were full of banter, you were fulfilling your marital duties only once a week in a nearly scheduled manner just to produce an heir but it was not happening so far, which was no surprise because Valarr struggled a lot with those things. He found you too cold and unresponsive for his liking but he would never actually confess it out loud.
You were still showing off your Arryn heritage whenever you could, not feeling as a part of the Targaryen household. Lady Jena had gifted you many pretty things decorated with dragons like she had once been gifted by her mother-in-law but you had hid them and never used them.
Most days you were reading books or embroidering falcons on every piece of fabric you could find. Well, not only falcons. Mountains, too. The Eyrie even. Everything that reminded you of home.
And you wore only blue. To the point no other lady at court ever wore it again. It was your colour. They began calling you The Blue Lady. Because of your emblem but also because of your constant state of melancholy.
The grand tourney was announced to celebrate the anniversary of King Daeron’s wedding to The Queen. A rather bitter celebration for a couple as unhappy as you and Prince Valarr.
It was the first occasion for you to watch your husband as a knight, though. And he already knew how it would end – you would find a way to mock him. But this time you would have every reason to. He wasn’t a knight as skilled as his father.
Many noble men joined the tourney from all over the country. Even the Starks came and it was a rarity.
Well, not all Starks. Only one – the future Lord of Winterfell. Young Lord Roderick who also happened to be a knight. He had raven black hair and piercing blue eyes. A dashing smile even though he smiled rarely. And he remained unmarried.
You nodded at him as he bowed at you while you greeted him in King’s Landing. You wondered if he knew that you two had nearly been married. But judging by the look in his eye… he did.
“My Lady,” he kissed the back of your hand.
“Lord Stark,” you nodded. “What made you travel all the way South?”
“Everyone is curious about Prince Valarr’s young wife,” he answered with a sparkle in his eye.
“And how do you find her?” You asked, batting your eyelashes.
“I find her very fitting to be the future Queen indeed,” he bowed once more before walking away to allow another knight to greet you.
You turned your head around and spotted Valarr staring at you with cold eyes. He looked pretty indifferent but you noticed the familiar clench of his jaw that indicated he was irritated. You smirked to yourself.
In the evening he entered your chambers when you were brushing your hair in front of the mirror. He glanced at you only for a second but then he walked past you to undress himself and change after a long day.
“Are you nervous before the tourney tomorrow?” You asked nonchalantly.
“No,” he answered coldly. “Why would I be?” He shrugged.
“So many grand knights have joined,” you pointed out.
“And you of course find each of them more skilled than I,” Valarr commented bitterly.
“I don’t know yet, I haven’t seen the jousts,” you chuckled and shook your head as you put the brush down and looked at him. “Will you be angry if I offer my favour to Lord Stark?”
Valarr froze in the middle of taking his tunic off. He looked at you as if you lost your mind.
“I am in no mood for your tease,” he informed you.
“Why would I tease?” You asked.
“You are my wife. You are only allowed to give your favours to me,” he finished taking off the tunic as he explained without even trying to hide his anger. “Can you imagine the rumours if you gave your favour to another?”
“Lord Stark and I were nearly married once,” you teased. He had accused you of teasing before, so he would be granted it now.
“I know,” Valarr spat out. “I’ve been told by my father,” he shook his head. “It does not concern me, it is in the past. Your favour is mine.”
“You better make good use of it then.”
People watched with curiosity when you approached the railing and allowed the blue ribbon to fall down without a single word. Valarr grabbed it and attached it to his armour as people cheered hesitantly.
You sat back in your seat.
“For the sake of our family… At least in public, please, my Lady, show some kindness to my son,” Prince Baelor pleaded in a whisper.
“I might consider it if he shows me kindness first,” you replied and Baelor gritted his teeth.
To think he had been the one to play a matchmaker between you two. He promised himself to allow Matarys to find a wife for himself on his own.
The tourney started with the sound of a horn. You watched the jousts with curiosity and to your disappointment, you realised not many knights dared to duel your husband and if they did – they were giving him easy and boring wins. You clapped for him but you were not impressed at all.
Lord Stark on the other hand fought in a way that was outstanding in comparison to others. Extremely honourable and exquisite; less whimsical but more simple and raw. Manly.
You wished that he was the one with your ribbon attached to his armour.
Then you flinched, berating yourself for such a thought.
“Are you alright?” Lady Jena asked.
“Yes, my Lady,” you nodded at her.
You forced yourself to focus on Valarr now. He was sitting in front of his tent and pouting that no one approached him. In a way you felt bad for him as well but you didn’t want to admit it to yourself.
Eventually, Roderick challenged him. He clearly didn’t care about The Young Prince’s privileged position. Valarr gladly accepted the challenge as he put on his helmet and adjusted the blue ribbon to show it off in front of the man who had nearly married his wife.
He mounted his horse with excitement and adrenaline. He was determined to prove his worth now, to impress you and give you no reason to mock or tease. To impress his father and grandsire, too. The people watching; the noblemen and the smallfolk. He wanted them to see him as their future King and a worthy one at that.
But Lord Stark was not thinking of such things. For him it was just another joust. And he won it easily.
You gasped at the sight of Valarr falling off of his horse for the first time during the tourney. Despite everything he was your Lord Husband.
Everyone reacted the same way – held their breath and watched in silence. Your husband moved up without any sound, his pretty armour now dirty from the mud. He nodded at Lord Stark and Lord Stark nodded back with a smile. The joust was over. Prince Valarr was defeated.
“My poor boy!” Lady Jena sighed.
“It is important for him to lose sometimes as well,” Baelor reminded her even though he was clearly displeased.
You said nothing. You looked at Lord Stark and he smiled at you before ordering his horse to ride away and challenge another knight.
Prince Valarr went back inside his tent and did not leave it for the rest of the tourney.
Valarr was avoiding you at the feast. Lord Stark searched for you, though. He caught you speaking to your brother and bowed his head at you as you nodded.
“My Lady, Ser Jasper,” he smiled. His face was full of small cuts and tiny bruises but they made him present himself even more dashing than before.
“Lord Stark,” you smiled back and dismissed your brother with a slow blink of your eyes, which signalised you felt comfortable to be left alone.
“I must earn your forgiveness for dismounting your husband,” Roderick chuckled and you sighed.
The slow raise of your breast caught his eye as he squinted at your pendant.
“What a beautiful piece. Must be very old,” he pointed out.
“It belonged to Queen Sharra,” you explained. “A gift from my Lord Husband from his family’s vault.”
“It should have been in your family’s vault in the first place,” Lord Stark pointed out.
“That’s what I told him… More less,” you cracked a smile.
You walked with him to the long table filled with food and watched him put a few snacks onto his plate.
“You must know that your husband is not a bad knight,” Lord Stark said and you raised your eyebrow at him. “But he fights like a man with a lot to lose and a lot to prove. Men like that overthink too much.”
“He wants to impress his father,” you explained.
“Perhaps his wife, too.”
“I highly doubt that,” you laughed as you shook your head.
From afar it looked like you were having great fun with Lord Stark. Certainly it looked this way for Valarr who saw you standing next to the tall and muscular knight, laughing at something he had just said.
And – to make it worse – Valarr had to admit that you looked as if you belonged together.
He swallowed thickly. You could have at least not humiliated him in public like that… Flirting with the man who had defeated him during the tourney.
Fuelled by anger, he walked up to you and Lord Stark. He stood behind you and placed his hand on your waist – something he usually was not doing, so it startled you a little. When you turned your head and spotted your angry husband, you gasped.
Now from up close you could see a bruise under his brown eye. Roderick had been the one to leave it, surely.
“Lord Stark,” Valarr greeted him.
“My Prince,” Roderick bowed his head. “I was just apologising to your Lady Wife for dismounting you and assuring her of what a good knight you are.”
Valarr did not believe a single word as he moved uncomfortably. You felt his hand squeezing your hip.
“My wife will not be easily convinced after today. She will not let me forget about this failure for years to come,” he laughed with irony.
You felt Lord Stark’s curious gaze on you. He had to wonder what in the seven hells was wrong with your marriage. You were only surprised Valarr was the one to talk about those matters. Usually he cared about keeping up appearances in public.
“Stop jesting, husband!” You laughed nervously. “Lord Stark might begin to think I am a monster.”
“Perhaps then he no longer finds interest in you, wife,” Valarr drawled out and you blinked a few times at his words.
You hadn’t expected him to so openly say such a thing in front of a noble Lord.
“Please, forgive him, he is still bitter after the joust,” you explained to Roderick.
“I know,” Lord Stark nodded, a bit uncomfortably. “Although I do believe I should go now…”
And so he left you alone with your husband. His grip on your waist softened gradually.
“That was insolent,” you pointed out.
“And you flirting with him was not?” Valarr looked deep into your eyes.
“I was not flirting with him, you idiot.”
“You wanted to give him your favour,” your husband reminded you.
“As a friendly gesture.”
“Stop lying!” Valarr raised his voice a little but thankfully the feast was loud and only a few people noticed. However, the gossip about your argument would spread after tonight, you were sure of that.
You opened your mouth to angrily snap back at him but The King and The Queen were announced. Everyone went silent and cheered for the royal couple as they sat on their chairs and smiled.
The King raised a goblet of wine as he addressed the guests.
“We have gathered here to celebrate the anniversary of the wedding day with my beloved wife,” he started. “I will not tell you which one because I like to pretend I am not that old,” he added as people chuckled. “However, all those years have taught me one important thing. Marriage is hard work. But it is the most wonderful work there is alongside raising offspring. To my wife!” He raised the toast and people holding their goblets cheered before drinking.
You glanced at Valarr. His face was softer now but he was still annoyed.
“Do you think it will be us in fifty years?” You asked.
Your husband was clearly surprised by that question. He laid his eyes at you and furrowed his brow.
“Only time can tell,” he answered, his voice way harsher than he had intended for it to be.
You nodded and left his side.
In fact, you went back to your chambers to cry.
Valarr joined you two hours later. He was relieved to see you because a part of him worried that the reason he couldn’t spot you at the feast was not an early retirement to your chambers but running off to do something stupid.
You were sitting by the fireplace in a dark blue robe over your nightgown. As he took a better look at you, he spotted wet trails of tears upon your cheeks.
Valarr had never seen you cry before. He froze.
“Wife?” He asked, carefully. “Are you… crying?”
You sniffled your tears and did not reply, holding yourself tighter.
Valarr panicked internally. He approached you slowly and sat on the armchair next to yours. He looked at you but didn’t want to make you feel too uncomfortable, therefore he laid his eyes on the fire.
“I wish to go back home. Please,” you pleaded in a voice so weak that it felt like a punch. He had never witnessed you being so vulnerable.
“I cannot. You are my wife and your place is by my side,” Valarr shook his head as he explained in a whisper.
“Just a visit…”
“No,” he insisted. “If you left so early and without an heir, people would gossip.”
“That’s all you care about. All your father cares about, too!” You raised your voice a little but it was still filled with sadness. “What will people say…”
“We are a royal family. It is important for us to think of those things,” Valarr explained.
“In The Eyrie, we live above the people. We are free,” you looked down as you fidgeted with your fingers.
“You are not in The Vale anymore, (Y/N),” your husband sighed. Then he hesitated for a moment. “Can you look at me?” He asked.
You blinked the tears away and turned your head around to look at him. The wetness of your face gleamed in the light from the fire. Something tugged at The Young Prince’s heart.
“Why are you crying?” He asked again, reaching out to wipe the tears away with his hand. You flinched at first but eventually allowed him.
“Because it is not the life I imagined for myself,” you confessed. “It is not the marriage I wanted.”
“Do you regret not marrying Lord Stark?” Valarr inquired with a sad smile.
“No, it is not about him!” You shook your head.
“Are you certain?” Valarr tilted his head.
“I am,” you assured him, staring at the bruise under his brown eye. It looked worse in the dim light. “Does it hurt?” You asked.
“Only a little. I’ve suffered worse,” your husband admitted.
“I should tend to it, I’m your wife,” you stood up abruptly but he stopped you by grabbing your wrist.
“I have already been tended to by a maester,” Valarr said. “Sit here with me. Let’s talk,” he cleared his throat.
You nodded and eventually sat back down.
“I don’t like our marriage either,” he confessed. “I didn’t expect my wife to be so arrogant,” he admitted, blushing instantly. He shouldn’t have said that.
“Well, you are not much better,” you pointed out.
“Me?” Valarr was genuinely surprised. In his eyes he was the most honourable and empathetic. “You started it. You started it from the moment you saw me. Called me odd looking.”
“I did not mean it in a bad way!” You gasped as you realised he had taken your words as an insult.
“Then you offended my family when I gave you the pendant,” Valarr finished the story.
“Well, the pendant was not truly yours to give. Either way, I could have been a bit rude, that is true, but how petty one must be to not let it go for so long. You had to know I was scared and nervous about moving here and my reactions were only a result of that. Yet you chose to not show mercy,” you pointed out.
Valarr blushed slightly. Perhaps you were right. Perhaps he should have been more understanding.
“You keep insulting my house by wearing nothing but blue,” he changed the subject.
“How am I insulting your house by showing love to mine?” You raised an eyebrow.
“You don’t show solidarity. Besides, you are a Targaryen now.”
“Not even by name,” you reminded him. After all, you were the wife of the Prince. Therefore your surname remained to be Arryn.
“You know what I am talking about,” Valarr rolled his eyes.
“I do. But it would be easier to feel connected to my husband’s house if he liked me at least a little bit,” you argued.
“Then make yourself likeable,” he snorted.
“Do you have any idea how difficult it is for a woman to be sent away from home to marry a stranger? I have spent the past three years being tortured by my septa with every detail of your house’s history. I am sick of it at this point!” You raised your voice.
“Well, I studied every book about House Arryn I could find in the library even though no one asked me to!” Valarr’s cheeks were burning now as they turned pink. You froze at his words but he had only started. “I found out in one of them about the pendant, I was the one to ask my grandsire to allow me to give it to you. I have learnt about the Andals, The Vale, The Kings of Mountain… Everything I could… For you. For my future wife,” his voice lowered in the end, becoming a whisper. His face was all red now.
“You should have told me…” you only said.
“For you to mock me?”
“I wouldn’t mock you. Not for that,” you said although you weren’t sure if it was true. You were aware of your nature.
However, if you had known all those things, you would have grown fonder for him, surely.
“All this time… I thought you didn’t care about me,” you shrugged. “I thought you were forced just like I was.”
“You were… forced?” Valarr’s voice cracked as his heart clenched inside his chest. He had never wanted his wife to be forced to marry him. No wonder you hated it so much.
“Of course I agreed, it would be foolish to reject an offer to marry you but also futile. My rejection would not discourage my father. I never wanted to move down South and live in the Red Keep,” you confessed. “Perhaps you don’t believe me because every woman wants to be the Queen. Surely, I do too. But I am also aware of the burdens and responsibilities alongside it.”
“And being married to me is the worst one of them?” Valarr asked and you chuckled as you looked into his eyes. You saw nothing but worry in them, though. He was not jesting.
“Oh, husband…” You shook your head and sighed.
Driven by nothing but an instinct instead of your sarcastic wit, which you had allowed to lead you for the past few moons, you moved closer to him and cupped his face. He held his breath and you leaned in to place a gentle kiss upon his bruise.
“You fought him well today,” you whispered softly.
“I’ve embarrassed you,” Valarr looked away, trying to process what had just happened.
“Only a little,” you teased lightheartedly. “I don’t think I’d make a good wife to Lord Stark, by the way.”
“Why not?” Valarr laid his eyes on you again, curiously.
“He wouldn’t know how to argue back,” you shrugged your arms and Valarr allowed himself to smile at those words.
“Does that mean that you approve of my wit?”
“Don’t be too bold, husband,” you winked and stood up to kiss his forehead. “I am keen on trying again, though. How about that?”
“I would very much like that,” Valarr nodded and stood up, too. Now he was on your eye level.
He hesitated for a moment but then he took your hand in his and placed a kiss on the back of it.
“Lady Arryn. Welcome to the Red Keep, your new home,” he greeted you.
“My Prince,” you bowed your head. “The pleasure is all mine.”
“How was your journey?” Valarr asked, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
“Long and tiresome but I am here now and that is what matters,” you continued playing along. “I cannot wait to see the library.”
“I can take you there now, my Lady,” Valarr proposed and you raised an eyebrow at him.
“Really?” You asked and he nodded. Therefore, you cleared your throat and smiled. “I would be delighted, my Prince.”
The sound of the feast echoed through the walls and the corridor leading to the library was empty. Only you and Valarr were the type of people to go there when there was a party in the dining hall.
Well, apart from Prince Aerys. He was already there when you two walked inside. He only looked up and smiled at you without a word before going back to his books.
Valarr took you to the other side of the library and you two chuckled together.
“My father says Uncle Aerys would sooner bring a book to his bed rather than his wife,” Valarr whispered to you and you covered your mouth with your hand to giggle. “What kind of books interest you, my Lady?” He went back to his role, straightening his back.
“Anything, really. Perhaps something about The Dothraki?” You asked, carefully.
Valarr hesitated for a moment. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to go down that path but he risked it, curious about the way you would handle it for the second time.
“Did you know that their braids symbolise their fertility?" He asked. “They are only allowed to braid their hair after they have fathered a son.”
You tilted your head with a gentle smile.
“I do believe you are mistaken, my Prince. I have read that they braid their hair after a victory,” you explained. “Let’s find it in the book and read it together.”
Valarr nodded as he picked up the book. You two sat next to each other by the desk and he allowed you to search for the chapter about the customs while he observed you with a gentle smile.
There was so much of you for him to still explore. Your softness, your vulnerability, your sense of humour, your love language.
