"It's my duty, my God-given birthright and my crown."
- Mary, Queen of Scots
In which Valyria Targaryen returns to the Red Keep and becomes a key player in the game for the Iron Throne.
....or....
In which there isn't a person in the Se...
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118 AC, Sunspear
After what felt like an eternity of pushing and crying, Valyria couldn't describe the relief of when the unbearable pressure on her abdomen and back lessened. Nor the joy she felt when a cry broke through the air - and not one of her own for the first time in hours. Had it not been for the midwives holding her up, Valyria would have sagged into a heap on the floor.
Her legs felt weak, like straws of wheat, not capable of carrying the weight of the rest of her body. For a moment she had to close her eyes, taking a few deep breaths to not let her exhaustion get the better of her. When she opened them again, a light laugh passed through her lips at the sight of the squirming babe in one midwife's arms.
"It's a boy, Princess Valyria. A little prince."
Valyria's smile widened to the extent when it hurt her face. It didn't matter to her if it was a boy or girl - and she knew Qoren didn't care either - but she loved the idea of having a son. With two daughters already, a son was most definitely a welcomed addition to the family.
Now seated on a chair, the babe was handed over to her and Valyria gladly welcomed the tiny weight. Even in her worn out state, her son was light enough for her to securely hold in her arms. He cried and squirmed, much like she recalled the twins doing.
Hearing the door open, Valyria looked up to see her husband enter her chambers, hair messier than usual after hours of raking his hands through the dark locks in concern every time he heard her cries. At first, Qoren remained by her side which shocked Valyria since most men stayed out of the birthing chamber; in court it would cause a scandal for a husband to be inside with his wife.
Only after a while, she sent him away to be with Elara and Cyrenna instead. They needed him more than Valyria at that moment. And despite having grown rather fond of her husband in the time they had been married, Valyria didn't like the idea of him seeing her at her weakest state. It felt too intimate.
Qoren's eyes zeroed in on the squirming babe in her arms; seeing that both mother and child were alive and seemingly healthy caused a stone to lift from his chest. The sun had disappeared hours ago; Valyria's labours began around midday and had lasted past supper, to the point where the keep normally would be silent.
"It's a boy, so I was right in my guesses," Valyria teased him, beckoning him over. Qoren seemed to be in awe of the sight before him as he slowly walked closer, dark eyes resting on the babe that finally were calming down in his mother's comforting hold.
"If I may clean him up, my princess," the 'leader' of the midwives asked in her thick dornish accent - Dora's her name. She was a woman of around forty summers; her skin was a few shades darker than Qoren's with coal black hair and warm brown eyes.
