"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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128 AC, Winterfell
After three pregnancies, Valyria liked to think she knew how her own body reacted while carrying a child. The fatigue, tender breasts and near constant discomfort for some reason did not come as a shock to her. What she hadn't expected was her gradually rising body temperature that she hadn't experienced with any of her previous children.
For while the discomfort at times had included her feeling warmer than usual at times, none of it could compare to how she felt at the verge of bursting into flames at any second by the time she reached the fourth moon of her pregnancy.
"You should wear a warmer cloak-"
Valyria interrupted her husband mid-sentence, "I already feel as if I'm in Dorne rather than the North. Unless you wish for me to be set ablaze, I won't be wearing any cloak." Already dressed in a dress of grey silk, the hemlines lined with white fur and the bodice embroidered with red in a pattern similar to the leaves on the Weirwood tree, Daemon had his reasons for being concerned about her being cold outside in the harsh northern winds.
Daemon sighed, gritting his teeth to not let his infamous temper get the best of him. "That might change once we go outside."
"If I freeze, I will keep it to myself so you don't have to suffer," Valyria retorted, looking at herself through the mirror. By now, her belly had visibly grown showing everyone that she was with child. Placing a hand against her growing stomach, she could have sworn the heat radiated from inside her. "Now I believe it's time for us to leave for the ceremony in the Godswood."
"Lyria-"
"Daemon, this babe makes me feel like I am about to burst into flames!" Valyria snapped, her patience completely disappearing. She blamed Daemon for putting a baby inside her that inherited his temper – if that was a thing. "Lying down naked in the snow does not seem like such a terrible idea at the moment so I repeat myself once again: I. Won't. Wear. A. Warmer. Cloak."
Gritting his teeth, Daemon realised the battle was lost. If she started to freeze, he'd just give his own cloak to her. "Let's visit the bride then," he said, linking his arm with hers. Ever since she told him she was with child, he'd become even more protective of her. It's like he was frightened she'd suddenly collapse if he wasn't there to catch her.
Serra and Cecily, who'd travelled all the way from Highgarden to the North just for the wedding, were inside Elara's temporary chambers – after today she'd be granted the bedchambers belonging to the Lady of Winterfell – helping the bride get ready alongside Cyrenna.
