The Heir of the Dragon: A Rhaenyra Targaryen Quest

Yeah I think it's safe to call it

---

"I'm must say, Lord Strong, I was rather curious to hear that you are not supporting your son's marriage proposal," you remarked. "I am in no hurry to marry, but I find it rather curious why a lord would be so uninterested in a match."

Lyonel almost laughed as he shook his head.

"My family would be beyond honored by such a match, make no mistake princess," Lord Strong assured you. "But I do not think it the best match for the realm. I advised your father to wed you to the son of the Sea Snake."

"Ser Laenor?" you raised an eyebrow. "I did not realize you thought so highly of house Velaryon."

"My personal opinion has little to do with it," Lyonel's voice was very matter of fact. "Ser Leanor is of pure Valyrian blood and the heir to the richest house in the realm. A marriage between the two of you would not only strengthen your position as heir, but ease any slights the Sea Snake has suffered, real or imagined."

"I see," you said evenly. "I can definitely understand your reasoning, Lord Strong."

You definitely held more respect for Lord Strong than you did before. He had shown himself to be an admirable man a fair few times before, but few in his position would turn down a once in a generation chance to advance his family and put the good of the realm first. Rare indeed was the man who took duty so seriously.

And yet, as he spoke, the idea of marrying Ser Laenor became less and less appealing. There was something rather detached about his whole thing, like he weighed the advantages and disadvantages on some scroll before deciding it was the best option. Your feelings didn't matter in his decision, instead he focused on matters like blood and coin.

What did it matter if he was of pure Valyrian blood if the two of you made each other miserable? You weren't blind to the realities of marriage, but surely personal matters should be considered as well in any match?

You thought of mentioning Qoren Martell and seeing what he thought, but decided against it. Something told you if you did publicly consider a betrothal with him, you would not lack for opinions from the Small Council.

Your Relationship with Lord Lyonel Strong Has Improved

---

You began your law studies under Lord Strong by focusing first on matters you'd covered on the progress, inspecting your work as it were. You also quickly became quiet frustrated with your father when you discovered King Jaehaerys, at nearly fifty years of age, had fought in Trial by Combat.

It had been against one Braxton Beesbury, an uncle to the current Master of Coin. Braxton had called for a trial by combat to avoid a rather grizzly punishment the king had set for him due to Braxton's affair with Saera Targaryen. Instead of having one of the Kingsguard handle such a trial, the old king decided to fight the man himself, killing Braxton while his daughter was forced to watch.

This wasn't some grand event. Braxton had not committed treason, nor had he implied the king had no right to judge him. He had simply had an affair with one of the king's daughters. A grave offense for sure, but nothing that made it so that Jaehaerys had to be involved personally. He was already greying at that point and no one would have expected him to fight the man. Had Ser Braxton won, he would have cut the Conciliatiors reign short a good twenty years and changed the history of House Targaryen completely.

You had been defending your honor and the honor of a cousin and vassal. Jaehaerys was just punishing his daughter. What you did, even if it was rash, made sense. The Old King had risked his life only for the sake of petty cruelty. What right did your father have to get so upset over it when his own grandfather had done something much more foolish decades ago?

With the Poacher and the merchant, your rulings were mostly fitting the accounts you read though surprisingly on the lighter side. You had expected cruelty from the accounts of Meagor, and you saw that repeatedly. What you were not expecting was an account of King Jaehaerys ordering the removal of a man's tongue, for him to be branded, and then have his legs and arms broken and then set in such a way that he would be a cripple for the rest of his life. That was a far more creatively vicious punishment than you expected from your great grandfather. Admittedly, he had called the king's marriage and love for his wife an abomination. You couldn't help but wonder how vicious you could be if someone insult your dear Alicent.

Then came the road laws. By the seven hells, the road laws. For how grisly accounts of Meagor or even King Jaehaerys delivering punishments were, they were at least enthralling in their own right. Perhaps not entertaining, but certainly not boring. The same could not be said for matters of roads.

The conquests of Aegon and the reforms of Jaehaerys united the Seven Kingdoms and gave it one unified legal code. In theory at least. That did not mean there was one unified legal standard with roads. The Kingsroad was a simple matter. The king built them, the Iron Throne pays for it's upkeep, those houses along it's route are to provide protection for travels. After that, things got messy. Messy, confusing, and, worst of all, incredibly boring. Days upon days of pouring over legal rulings from one end of the Seven Kingdoms, just to find a similar case from another region decided entirely differently. Hours spent realizing just how petty and small minded nobles could be over such trivial matters. Most people your age would have given up a while ago, but you were determined.

It ultimately came down to who built it, who's land it was on, and who took care of it. The last one was usually ultimately who owned the road and had rights to tolls, but it varied depending on the age of the road and seemingly the whims of whoever made the ruling. There were also factors to consider such as what the road was made of and what it was most used for, but even you had your limits on how deeply you were willing to look into it.

Considering the generation situation in the North, you realized it perhaps might have been best to have house Whitehill turn over their tolls entirely towards their lords in House Bolton, but it didn't matter all that much.

Word reached Lord Strong that you had already begun your studies and he was quite impressed with your diligence.

Learning And Administration Improved

Relationship with Lyonel Strong Improved
New Status: Cordial

---

Why were you here?

Part of you answered that immediately. You were the crown princess. You had returned home near half a year ago and you've barely spoken to the queen since then. Even with the birth of her children, you had still barely said more than a few words to the woman. If you let this go on for much longer, there would be scandal at court and the queen would be offended.

The rest of you was all but passionately screaming at you to be somewhere, anywhere else in the Red Keep right now. You were happy for Johanna, you supposed. She seemed to want children for whatever reason and had fullfied her desire to have daughters, giving her what she wanted without threatening your position at court. Great. Wonderful even. Good for her! But you knew those girls would be there, in that room, with her. You could not escape Aelora. You had spent so many days pouring over books trying to make sense of your dream and still were no closer to any answers, and a living breathing reminder of that was right in that very room.

You breathed in deeply and nodded for the Kingsguard to let you in.

"Announcing the Princess Rhaenyra," they said as you stepped through the threshold.

Moments later you flinched as a paw sharply struck the side of your head repeatedly. You turned to see the black cat Lancel staring at you from his perch. The two of you glared at each other. Even a noble lord of the seven kingdoms would risk losing his hand striking a princess, but Lancel stared back at you, unconcerned, downright smug even, fully aware there was nothing you could do about his assault.

"Lancel what are you doing!?" Johanna chided as she scooped up the defiant feline. "I'm so sorry princess. I thought he had gotten better about that."

"It's fine," you assured her.

Her room seemed little changed from the last time you saw it, save for the wet nurse currently taking care of a rather large infant and the double cradle that was surrounded by the rest of the queen's cats.

You flinched at the sight of the infant the wet nurse was carrying, but relaxed when you saw her unmarked face.

Though your relief turned to confusion as you realized the girl was rather large. You knew little of babies. They weren't something you particularly cared about and you tended to avoid the ladies of court when they showed off their new children. However, you knew enough to know that babies that were only a few months old shouldn't look that big. Helaena looked she was almost a toddler.

"Your grace, it is good to see you," you nodded. "I see your daughters are quite healthy."

Johanna laughed. "More than that I would say with Helaena," she remarked. "She's growing fast."

"Yeah, I noticed," you replied. "I didn't think babies got that size at her age."

"The Maesters have said something has effected Helaena's growth. She should slow down sometime soon," Johanna explained. "If not, well, let's just say you'll have some competition for tallest Targaryen woman around."

"Hmm," you said with a feigned look of interest. You were decidedly neutral on the matter of Helaena. She wasn't your sister no matter what anyone said, but she wasn't the subject of any vision. She wasn't a boy. She wasn't a threat to you in the moment. She was an innocent, and you hoped she remained as such. If she did become taller than you, that could be interesting in a good way, but that was a matter for years down the line. Right now she was just a baby that was fussing in the hands of her nursemaid.

"Thankfully Aelora here is perfectly normally," Johanna said with a smile as she picked up her other daughter.

Your breath seized in your throat, a trickle of sweat ran down you back, and your fists began to tighten as you stared into those mismatched eyes. The same eyes you saw at Harrenhal. The same eyes that promised terrible fates and death. For a brief, mad, moment you could have sworn she was starring back at you intently with knowing eyes.

You blinked. The eyes that looked back at you were wide and curious, no hint of anything deeper lurking behind them. She was just a baby. Carefree. Innocent.

She didn't know, you realized. You had been half expecting the baby to be born already knowing of it's fate. But no. It was just a baby like any other.

"Your father remarked that she looked a lot like his mother," Johanna's words snapped you out of your stupor. "Apparently she had the same kind of eyes."

You realized you had been starring at Aelora for several moments now and you quickly snapped your attention towards the Queen, nodding hastily in agreement.

"Yeah," you agreed. "From what I hear, my grandmother didn't look much like a typical Targaryen in a lot of ways."

You mind moved away from Aelora and focused on other matters for the moment.

"How was my father, during the progress?" you asked.

You had been gone for six months and if there was anyone who might know how your father really handled those months, it was his wife.

"He was sad for a while," she admitted with a faltering smile. "I do not think he wanted you to be on your own so soon. I comforted him as best I could and that seemed to help after a time."

"Oh, that's good," you said softly. "Thank you."

You felt guilty for causing your father grief with your absence, but at the same time you could not have let his loneliness stop you from doing what was best for you.

"How are you fairing?" you added.

"Oh, fine. The latter months were honestly easier than the first months of the pregnancy if you can believe that," Johanna remarked. "Giving birth was unpleasant to put it mildly though."

'At least you survived,' you thought with unexpected bitterness.

"So, I hear you're talking with the Prince of Dorne soon," the Queen switched topics. "How do you feel about that?"

You raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"I'm your father's wife," she reminded you. "He does come to me for council and advice on occasion."

"Well, don't really have much of an opinion yet," you replied. "But I did quite enjoy his letter. It was one of the first times I'd seen a man besides Ser Tarly praise my skills as a knight."

"A woman like you does need a husband who appreciates a wife who's more steel than silk," Johanna nodded.

To your surprise, you smiled sincerely at her words. Johanna would never be the warrior you were, but she was strong in spirit and body in her own right. Part of you wished sincerely you could be friends. But you knew if she ever found out about you and Alicent, or she ever had a son, things between the two of you would become quite complicated quite quickly.

Aelora cooed as Johanna held her, the noise sending a tingle of fear dancing down your spine

"I imagine you have some thoughts on a possible marriage between myself and the Prince of Dorne," you said, your eyes drifting towards Aelora for a moment before you forced yourself to focus back on Johanna.

"For the Realm, it would be a once in a generation opportunity. A defining moment of your father's reign. For you," the Queen made a surprisingly casually shrug. "Ehh. Marriage between the heirs of two noble houses can be complicated affairs. I can only imagine how much of a mess it will between the Princess of Dragonstone and the ruling Prince of Drone."

You wanted to roll your eyes. Again, people talking about just the practical matters.

"Yes, but that's just immediate issues. Those can be worked though," you argued.

"True enough. And the Dornish are fine enough I suppose," Johanna said with indifference. "They have unseemly customs for sure, but I'm no Stormlander. As long as a people share our faith, I don't take much issue with them. And Qoren would at least be used to the idea of women ruling."

You nodded.

"Personally, if I was in your position, I'd go with someone like Tyland Lannister," she went on. "Rich and powerful house, good stock, no pesky succession matters, and as a younger twin, he's well used to be lead by others. He'd be managable."

That caught you off guard. Of all the possible options you'd been given over time, you can't recall anyone giving serious thought to Tyland Lannister.

"The Lannisters aren't the biggest supporters of me right now," you noted. "They did not react well to the tourney in White Harbor."

"Marriage proposals have a way of rather quickly changing one's opinions on a person," Johanna smirked. "Take it or leave it as you wish, I was just expressing an opinion. Your father has given you the chance to find your own husband. Choose who you think is best I say."

"Thank you," you nodded. "I intend to."

The two of you chatted for a bit longer before you saw enough of a break in the conversation to make your excuses and leave. You honestly enjoyed talking with the Queen for once, but her just holding Aelora was already a constant source of stress to you.

You barely slept that night, thoughts of Harrenhal haunting you again.

+7 Stress

Relationship with Johanna Westerling Improved

---

While you had met Qoren Nymeros-Martell a few times by now, it had always been during courtly functions where norms and protocol kept your interactions to a minimum. The prospect of seeing him in a more relaxed setting made you anything but. For the whole day, your body seemed to tie itself into knots.

Ser Tarly briefly noted that you did not have to go through with this, echoing the same sentiment as your father. But you had to. The Prince of Dorne had come all the way to King's Landing to get to know you and it felt cowardly to shirk your duties by not even meeting him. Surely, he would not be so odious a person that this single interaction would be too much for you to bear.

And you could still say no to the whole matter afterwards. That thought alone kept the knots from tightening any further.

For your first meeting, you had opted to join the Prince of Dorne while he was painting. Though you were still a beginner with the harp, you felt it would be enough to leave a good impression and it would be a good way to get to know more about him if you talked about your respective interests.

Almost at the last moment, you decided Alicent would be joining you for the meeting, much to her surprise. When your father asked why you were bringing your handmaiden to such an important event you explained that you trusted Alicent's opinion a great deal and believed she could provide some needed insight on the prince. And that was true, even if it was not the whole reason.

First and foremost you wanted to make sure Alicent did not think she would be just tossed aside when you got married. She needed to know that your relationship with her was important enough that you were involving her in this. And if Alicent and Qoren were not liking each other, then maybe that was a sign this was a mistake.

The three of you made your ways towards the gardens where the Prince was. The whole time you walked you were privately reminding yourself that this was your choice. No matter what Rhaenys said, if you refused a marriage, that would be the end of things. No one would force you to marry Qoren if you did not wish it.

You found the Prince on the very edge of the gardens, overlooking Blackwater Bay from a spot at the battlements. He was critically examining the canvas with a small brush in hand, his focused gaze ever so often wandering to the distant ships in the water before adding a few more brush strokes. His fingertips were stained various colors and a messy set of paints sat on a stool near him, some of the clutter continuing onto the battlements.

The guard with him was a woman of about your fathers age and a bronze skin that hinted of the lands of eastern Essos. She gripped her spear tighter as the three of you entered, though while she inclined her head respectfully to you and Alicent, she merely glared at Ser Tarly. Something he did in turn and you were not sure which of the two had started first.

That's when the Prince turned around, quickly putting aside his brush and paint to greet you.

"Princess Rhaenyra, I am so honored to see you," he nodded, his eyes turning towards Alicent. "And who is the lovely lady joining us today?"

"This is my handmaiden, Lady Alicent Hightower," you explained. "I hope you don't mind that I brought her along."

"Not at all," the prince replied with a curious look in his eye, inclining his head over so slightly towards Alicent. "I am honored to have the company of the Hand's daughter."

"Thank you, prince." Alicent bowed in turn with expert grace.

"And this is my sworn shield, Ser Tarly," you added. The 'And he absolutely does not like you' was unspoken, but plain to all around.

"A Tarly?" The prince's eyes lit up with amusement. "There's few Reacher houses that the western lords of Dorne speak as highly of as yours."

"Do they?" Ser Tarly eyed him cautiously.

"Oh, don't expect me to repeat their words," he chuckled lightly. "They are far from polite, the things they say, but in between the lines, you can tell that they respect your house. Even if they'd rather cut out their tongues than to admit as much."

Before Ser Tarly could respond, Qoren gestured to his own guard. "This Obara, my sworn shield."

"A pleasure," you nodded to the warrior, but your attention was already drifting towards the Prince's work.

"May I ask what you're painting?" you inquired as he picked up his brush again.

"I found the sight from the Red Keep quite enchanting. Quite like that view from the Sandship in some ways, but it's the small differences that make it memorable."

The picture he was slowly drawing on the plain canvas was of the mouth of the Blackwater, where the trading ships came and went. It was still a fairly rough sketch, but even now, it captured the moment quite well. There were quite a few more ships on the canvas than in the water though.

"Sadly, there are not quite as few ships coming to King's Landing in these Fall days," you noted.

"Ah, but you see, just because my eyes can't see them, my heart knows they should be there." He briefly turned, smiling at you before continuing. "I have found that in art and in life, it is often important to not only see how the things are, but also what they could be."

Besides you, Ser Tarly made one of those very quiet noises that told you he was probably committing a snide comment to memory for later when he was in the tower among only fellow kingsguard members.

"I didn't take you to be a dreamer," you noted, while watching him paint. The first impression of Qoren had fairly little in common with the conniving Dornishman or the dangerous politician that you had been warned of by many unasked for advisors in the last few days.

He hummed briefly while weighing his words. "I always felt it important for a lord to remember that there is more to life than politics and trade. If we don't chase a dream now and then, what is the point of it all? But I believe you of all people understand that better than most."

"I understand it quite well," you began to smile. "Dreams can push us to do something others think impossible. Or give us relief when life seems overwhelming."

You thought of how many people told you your sword training was pointless and utterly unbecoming of a woman. How they said all you were doing was wasting your life and making yourself look less desirable to any future husband. But without that training, without the drive to become a knight, you would be a much duller person. A much more frustrated person. A princess who never figured out who she really was at her core.

You didn't come here to talk about that though, this was a time for relaxing and art.

"I've never had much talent for painting," you said earnestly. "But there was something I was hoping I could show you today."

Alicent handed you a large leather satchel containing your harp.

When he noticed you unpacking it, he quickly turned around with a raised finger. "Ah, Princess, I had prepared something for you before I left Sunspear and I had just waited for a more private moment," he said while putting his painting palette aside and picking up a lacquered wooden box.

"When your father mentioned that you had taken up playing the harp in one of his letters, I had this piece made." As he opened the box, you saw within a finely crafted harp and a small book bound in red leather. "Dornish yew makes strong bows, but when used for instruments, they gain a soft and warm sound. I'm sure you will enjoy playing this harp."

Your reached out, running a finger over the smooth wood of the instrument. "Thank you, Prince Qoren," you said with genuine joy and not just out of courtly obligations. "And the book?" Unlike the harp, which still faintly smelled of fresh wood, the book was well worn and clearly older.

"Songs of Dorne, of course," he said with a small smile while setting down the box on the table in between you, next to the bowl of dates, raisins and dried figs. "It would feel strange to gift you an instrument without a a few pieces to play on it, and this is my personal collection of songs that I wished to learn to play since my childhood."

Meanwhile, you had begun thumbing through the book, glancing over the notes and the song texts. "How long have you been playing?"

The Prince smiled a bit strained at the question. "I have given up for good quite a few years ago. I have not shown any talent for the harp, the lute or any other instrument I touched, even though I tried for years. But even so, I still love music and these songs, so I hope that they will bring you and your listeners joy."

"A thoughtful gift," you said idly while reading the text of a ballad about the cold and lonely nights of the Dornish desert. Certainly more personal than spices, cloth and jewels that were gifted back and forth between your father and him.

"I'll give one a try," you decided spontaneously and took the harp, starting to tune the strings as you had practiced so many times already by now.

Qoren looked quite exited at this and took the booklet. "If I may suggest something? There is a lovely song about Nymerias voyages."

Your ears perked up. A song about one of your favorite historical subjects was just about as perfect a musical piece as you could find. Quickly but carefully took back the booklet and read through the song. Soon enough, you began to play.

The song was not quite, somber but there was undeniable sadness in it. It sung of sailing to places you had never seen, to unfamiliar and often dangerous shores, not out of any desire to explore, but out of simple need. It spoke of the fear of both the unknown and being without a home, of being lost and directionless on the sea. But it was ultimate a hopeful song as well, ending on notes of finding a new home and firm hope that they will be able to make a better life there.

You lost yourself in the music, even singing along as you played despite your lack of confidence in your voice. Anything outside the song ceased to matter as you played, your attention focus both on the song itself and making sure you didn't mess up any of the notes. While you were not particularly proud of your singing, you felt good about the actual music. Your fingers were beginning to hurt by the end though you kept at it anyway, determined to do the song justice.

While the final note still hung in the air, Alicent began to clap, loudly and with great speed, drawing your attention back to the world. All eyes were on you. The Prince looked quite enthralled by the music while Alicent had begun to turn red with a look of embarrassment across her face for having clapped so hard.

"Bravo, princess," Qoren smiled, though you noticed his attention lingered on Alicent for a moment before fully focusing on you. "Your father was far too humble when he wrote of your skills with the harp. The blade is not the only thing you are quite gifted with."

"You flatter me, prince," you smiled. "Though I must confess I am still a novice with the harp. This new instrument you gifted me is clearly making up for my lack of experience."

"You sell yourself short Princess," Qoren countered. "Even the finest instrument is nothing but a source of noise in fumbling hands. Believe someone who has struggled with instruments for so long as I did."

"Thank you," you repeated yourself while robbing your fingers together against the soreness.

"Would you care for a cup of tea or two?" he said while already giving a curt wave of his hand to a servant in Martell livery waiting some distance from you. "Even though it is quite a pleasant sight from here, the autumn chill makes for stiff fingers without something to warm them."

And so you spent the next few hours, drinking tea, talking about your artistic pursuits and you playing a few more songs on the new instrument. It was nice. Relaxing even. You couldn't deny that this felt rather strange considering Qoren was the leader of a foreign princedom, one that your family had been hostile to for over a century.

You could tell Ser Tarly was bristling underneath his helmet, but to his credit he maintained a stoic facade otherwise. Alicent generally spent the whole time enraptured by your performances.

After a while, when the wind picked up and your spot on the battlements became rather unplesant, you asked Prince Qoren if he wanted to take a walk through the gardens. The Dornish Prince happily agreed.

The five of you walked through the garden, Alicent following you and Qoren closely while your guards were further back and in front of you, making sure no one was listening in on what was said between you.

You and the Prince made small talk for a while about various subjects as you walked. Occasionally you stole a glance at Alicent to see how she was doing. She seemed uncertain and conflicted, but you didn't see any hint of real dislike yet or cause for concern.

"I must say, after so much political talk and negotiations, it was deeply refreshing to just relax for a while," Prince Qoren complimented. "This time with you has been a real breath of fresh air."

"Thank you," you nodded. "I feel likewise."

You weren't blind to what he was doing. There was a reason for all the praise and the flattery, his numerous female guards, the easy smiles. You knew in part it was a very purposeful effort on the prince's part. Qoren was making a very strong effort to sell himself. Yet, at the same time, it did not feel fake. The smiles weren't forced and you did not think the praise a lie either. If anything, he seemed to enjoy the chance to leave behind the stoic and regal demeanor he had presented himself at court with.

"I must say, Prince Martell, I was rather surprised when I read your letter to my father," you said, steeling yourself as best you could for the conversation you were about to venture into. "Few men outside my sworn shield have given me praise for the tourney. Yet you call me remarkable before you even met me."

"A woman becoming knight is unheard of even in Dorne," the Prince argued. "While we are not as inflexible in such matters than many others, that you overcame such endless years of Andal custom could only be a sign that you well and truly earned the honor. I call you remarkable because the tales of you are remarkable indeed. Barely an adult and defeating so many with such skill. You should be hailed as the finest knight of our generation."

"You do me great honor, Qoren," you said, blushing awkwardly at the praise.

"And I am quite pleased to learn there is a beautiful soul behind those steel fists of yours," Qoren went on. "I do so hope you train with harp and voice as often as your sword. Such musical talents should be nurtured."

"Again, my thanks," you nodded. "And I very much intend to keep at it. Once I start something I am not one to abandon it."

"That is good to hear," he replied he replied somewhat curtly. You could hear the man bracing himself. For the first time since you met him there was a trace of hesitation in his voice. "Which leads me to a rather weighty question. Have you given much thought yet to a marriage agreement?"

"I have," you said simply before breathing in deeply.

In truth you had been thinking of it quite often. You were not ready to get married anytime soon, but the thought of a betrothal held far less terror than it once did. But there were so many things to consider with a Martell marriage. It was quite overwhelming in truth.

Your words caught in your throat, you found yourself unable to speak, unsure of what you were going to say.

"Are you worried that a marriage would complicate matters between you and your dear handmaiden?" He asked carefully. There was no easy smiles this time, but neither was there the edge of scorn that words made you fear for.

Your heart seized in your chests, blood turning cold in your veins, your eyes growing wide in shock. How could he have possible known.

"I do not know what you speak of, prince," you said carefully.

"Forgive me, prince," Alicent interjected, "but whatever impression you have of us, I am afraid it is quite mistaken."

Her tone was quite convincing.

"I apologize, I meant no offense," Qoren said, smiling again. "But my father trained me from an early age on the importance of reading people at court. And, if I am being completely honest, your handmaiden does not hide her feelings."

You looked away, half embarrassed, half on the verge of a panic. If he knew from barely a day with you, how many others knew already?

"Oh no," Alicent breathed.

"Do not fret," he said calmly, raising his hands in warding gesture. He also clearly saw the panic he'd stirred int he two of you. "I doubt many would have noticed. It is my experience that those who do not think such relationships are common or normal will deny such a relationship exists long past the point of reason. Especially Andals can be quite willfully dense on these things."

"But not the Dornish?" Alicent asked with a mix of fear and some offense.

He stopped walking, hands still raised. "I apologize, Lady Hightower. I meant not to give offense. But, to say it as straightforward as possible, it is my and many Dornishmans opinion that the heart, the mind and the loins can all desire different things, and to deny that truth can lead to plenty of misery for all involved. My experience with northerners has always been that they'd rather deny themselves than accept their feelings and likewise blind themselves to those of others."

So it seemed some of the rumors about Dorne proved true.

Alicent just stared at him, nodding quietly with a blank expression though you knew her well enough to see the cauldron of emotions still boiling behind the facade.

"If such a relationship were to exist," you remained evaise, "would it pose an issue for any possible marriage between us."

"No." He shook his head. "Call me a fool, but I believe romance is rare beauty, and I think marriage should avoid tarnishing such beauty whenever possible. I will not ask of you to make yourself miserable for the sake of our match."

"Hmm," you said evenly, your own worries slowly easing. That was very good news. Of course, there was still the issue of keeping Alicent at your side once you married, but at least you would not worry about having to hide from Qoren if you married.

"I must say, good prince," you remarked calmly once more. "I am surprised you came up with this offer in the first place, considering Dorne's defiant history."

"It is a matter of circumstance," Qoren admitted, the mask of the politician slowly creeping back onto his features. "The war in the Stepstones is threatening to force me to take actions I know will not go well. But our match would present a unique possibility for me and my people. Someone strong enough to stand up to your uncle, while also holding a soul far warmer than his."

He looked off into the distance, scanning the horizon for something only he could see.

"A Prince's duty is to his people," he said, his voice growing serious. "I know what strife between our realms means. As a child, I heard the stories of Dorne burning at the hands of the Conqueror. As young man, I was walking along the beaches near Yronwood where the skulls of Dornishmen still bleach in the sands. What your uncle said to me..."

He shook his head, his eyes turning to you. "I believe I can best fill that duty to my people with you at my side, and with myself as your king-consort one day. If you would have me."

He extended his hand.

Your heart hammered within your chest as you considered your options. In many ways, Qoren was everything you wanted from a husband. Accepting of Alicent, warm, romantic, a man who did not shame you for your skill with a blade. And yet did you want to get married right now? Did you really want a marriage that would enrage two entire kingdoms and cause so much grief and hassle for all involved? Did you really want at least one of your future children to carry the Martell name instead of your own?

You could refuse, you reminded yourself. If you didn't like the terms of whatever agreement your father made with Qoren, you could always refuse.

You looked back at Alicent, her brown eyes wide but unreadable. Whatever decision you made, it would be yours alone.

What Do You Do?

[] Take His Hand (Begin Marriage Negotiations With Qoren Martell)

[] Decline The Offer

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QM's Note: Apologies for the Delay, Last Week was kind of a mess for me. Special Thanks to Azel as they wrote much of the Qoren section. This is gonna be a big vote I know, but remember to be civil and not get too passionate about this. The picture is not quite accurate to how Qoren looks now, think it as a preview of a possible future.