90 AC. King's Landing
Seven months had passed since the newlyweds learned of the coming addition to House Velaryon. For seven months, a new, still-fragile life had bloomed within Viserra, gradually turning the once willful and proud princess into a gentle woman filled with deep tranquility.
The sun was sinking toward the west, flooding Blackwater Bay in a warm golden-amber light. On the spacious terrace of the chambers set aside for Viserra and Corlys in the very heart of the royal castle, a serene peace reigned. A light sea breeze blowing from the harbor brought cool air and a faint scent of salt, rustling the heavy curtains of the finest silk. Viserra sat in a deep armchair, sinking into soft cushions, lazily and unhurriedly stroking her rounded belly, heavy with the eighth month of pregnancy. Inside her, life churned without pause. Time and again, the babe made himself felt with noticeable kicks, as if trying to break free into the world around him.
Stroking her belly, the princess smiled involuntarily at her own thoughts, imagining how wondrous, strong, and beautiful her child would grow to be. The ancient blood of Valyria flowed in his veins, bearing the legacy of two of the kingdom's greatest houses. Viserra remembered vividly that evening when Corlys, using his mysterious magical abilities, had gently checked her condition and whispered in her ear that it was a boy ripening beneath her heart - their future son and heir to High Tide. Viserra, of course, had not breathed a word to anyone in the castle about the nature of this knowledge, not wishing to draw unwanted attention from the maesters or the court, but to all the questions from the Queen and her niece, she merely smiled enigmatically and insisted that her mother's intuition did not deceive her.
From the very minute Corlys had publicly announced her pregnancy at the royal table, his care for her had surpassed all imagined bounds. Viserra had never seen her husband so attentive, focused, and truly anxious. Corlys did not rely solely on the royal maesters and first and foremost summoned his personal healer, John Waters, from High Tide. This man of vast experience, who had helped Maester Maleon tend to the health of the entire Velaryon family for many years, immediately arrived in the capital and took constant charge of the princess's every step. The chambers where Viserra rested became an impregnable fortress. Whenever she crossed the threshold of the room, she was invariably followed by Ser Adam, four of the best guardsmen from Corlys's personal guard, and, of course, Ares.
At times, walking through the shady gardens of the Red Keep, Viserra caught herself thinking with quiet irony that even her crowned father, King Jaehaerys, surrounded by the Knights of the Kingsguard, was not as securely guarded as she was. For if some madman were to slip past the steel blades of Corlys's loyal knights, he would hardly manage to bypass Ares and survive. This giant cat, who looked almost endearing at first glance when basking in the sun at his mistress's feet, possessed frightening strength and deadly agility.
Viserra had witnessed the panther's true nature firsthand in the early stages of her pregnancy, during a grand hunt in the royal woods. On that day, many lords from all corners of Westeros had gathered in the forest, and the princess, despite the quiet entreaties of her maidservants, insisted on remaining beside her husband throughout the entire hunt. None of the courtiers dared object to the proud daughter of the King and wife of the Sea Snake. It was then that she saw with her own eyes what the panther was capable of. When a massive stag burst from the thicket, Ares darted forward like a silent black shadow. With frightening, almost supernatural ease, he overtook the fleeing beast, pounced upon his prey in a single bound, and within seconds snapped its thick neck, suffocating the beast before it could take even a couple of strides. And afterward, to the astonishment of the assembled lords, the panther unhurriedly dragged the massive carcass right to their feet, trailing it across the leaf-strewn ground as easily as if it weighed nothing. Setting the prey down, Ares raised his burning yellow eyes to Corlys and Viserra, looking upon them with such gentleness, like a domestic kitten expecting praise and approval for catching a mouse. At that moment, the princess hardly knew what was stronger in her soul: wild terror at this rare, primal savagery, or affection at the devotion and tenderness with which the beast looked at his masters.
Yet Viserra's safety was not limited to warriors and a predator alone. Corlys had given her an exquisite silver ring set with a rare dark stone, strictly instructing her to pass it over every plate of food and every cup of water before touching them. Should even a drop of poison or harmful draught taint the food, the ring would instantly grow hot, warning of the danger. To this day, the signet ring had never given a warning signal, yet Corlys was fond of repeating that constant vigilance was required.
In addition, the Lord of High Tide personally brewed special potions for her. Every morning he served her a small cup of thick elixir, assuring her that it would banish nausea, impart strength, and help the child grow strong and healthy. And it truly worked: Viserra remained untouched by the morning sickness that wracked so many pregnant women. And in the trunks of their chambers already stood vials prepared in advance by Corlys for the upcoming birth - healing elixirs to restore blood, protect against childbed fever, break fevers, and prevent dangerous blood poisoning. He assured his wife with calm certainty that these draughts would make the delivery as safe as possible and help her quickly return to her former life afterward. Viserra had lost count of how many times she had thanked the gods in her prayers that Corlys had become her husband, protector, and anchor.
Her husband's precautions bordered on what many would call madness. Corlys assigned three young maidservants to her as well. Only a couple of months later did Viserra discover by chance that two of those quiet, dutiful girls were actually trained assassins, loyal to Lord Velaryon alone. When the astonished princess asked her spouse how young women could be made into professional killers, Corlys replied with a subtle smile that she would be amazed to learn what impregnable and secret places women could infiltrate, eliminating targets where a strong man would inevitably draw attention and fail.
Thus Viserra lived through those months - surrounded by an invisible yet impenetrable wall of absolute protection, peacefully carrying her greatest miracle beneath her heart. She was not in the least burdened by this hyper-vigilance, on the contrary, she felt only deep gratitude and joy at the fierce passion with which her husband guarded her and their future heir. The only tangible outlet for the princess in the sultry Red Keep remained her dragon, Dreamfyre. Viserra flew her almost constantly, relishing the freedom of the open skies, and every time she promised herself in her heart that immediately after her son's birth, she would present the babe to her splendid lady and take her firstborn on their first flight together. However, a month ago, she did not dare go against the wishes of healer John Waters. The healer categorically declared that further flights and sharp changes in altitude could harm the child, and Viserra acquiesced. She continued to visit Dreamfyre every day in the courtyard of the Red Keep, talking to her and stroking her scales. And the great dragon, as if keenly understanding her rider's condition, no longer lowered her wing to invite her into the saddle as she always used to, but merely pressed her massive snout against Viserra's shoulder with a quiet, deep, protective rumble.
At this hour, a truly cozy, familial warmth filled the terrace. Viserra's ten-year-old sister, little Gael, sat directly upon the soft Myrish carpet, enthusiastically stroking Ares's soft black fur. The massive panther occasionally let out a low, disgruntled rumble, twitching his ears slightly, but lay motionless and patient, curled at the princess's feet, keeping his attentive yellow gaze fixed on Viserra's belly. An arm's length away, Queen Alysanne sat in a wicker chair, holding a cup of hot tea.
"How are you feeling, my dear?" the Queen asked softly, searching her daughter's face attentively and noticing a faint shadow of fatigue in her eyes. "Does the weight not burden you? Complete rest is beneficial in your condition."
"I feel wonderful, Mother," Viserra replied, adjusting a soft pillow behind her back and smiling warmly at her mother. "The babe is extraordinarily lively and seems to have no intention of resting. He has been kicking almost nonstop since noon, as if stretching his little legs for a long journey."
Rhaenys, who was sitting nearby, could not contain herself upon hearing these words. Driven by lively curiosity, she rose from her seat, approached Viserra's chair, and carefully placed her warm palm over her rounded belly. A moment later, right beneath her fingers, came a strong, distinct kick, making Rhaenys laugh softly as she held her palm in place for the next strike.
"Our little Velaryon, by the looks of it, will be quite the rogue and a restless little rascal," Rhaenys said with a smile, feeling new life beating inside the mother's womb. "If he cannot rest quietly for even a minute inside his own mother's belly, imagine what will happen once he gets on his feet and starts running."
"Oh, every child shows incredible activity in the womb," Queen Alysanne chimed in gently, taking a small sip of her brew and looking at her daughters and granddaughter with a nostalgic smile. "You, Viserra, were no different in your day. Your kicks were sometimes so strong that I could not sleep at night. Yet surprisingly, as soon as you were born, you turned out to be the quietest and most placid child in the castle... At least, until Rhaenys came along."
"Is that truly so, Grandmother?" Rhaenys asked with genuine surprise, turning to the Queen and pulling her hand back from Viserra's belly. "Did I manage to become the cause of your headaches at such a tender age?"
"It is the absolute truth, my dear," Queen Alysanne confirmed with a warm smile, inclining her head slightly. "When you turned a little over a year old and had just learned to hold your balance and walk, five-year-old Viserra seemed transformed. She doted on you. Viserra dragged you everywhere with her, refused to play with anyone else, and fussed over you for hours in the nursery. And as soon as you grew a little older, the two of you became a real plague upon the septas. You were constantly slipping away from history and etiquette lessons, hiding from the servants and nannies in all the secret passages of the Red Keep."
"I think I dimly remember those escapes," Viserra said softly, meeting Rhaenys's gaze and giving her a warm smile. "Though the details of those years have faded from memory, I remember clearly that I got along with you, my little niece, far better than with my own sisters. I always found it hard to find common ground with Maegelle, Alyssa, and Saera. They were significantly older than me, and each had her own world into which I was not readily admitted."
The smile on Queen Alysanne's face slowly faded, giving way to a subtle, deep sorrow as the conversation turned to her elder daughters. She lowered her eyes to her cup, and heavy notes of long-standing maternal pain echoed in her voice.
"Yes, your sisters were entirely different," the Queen said mournfully, with a quiet sigh. "Alyssa was always marked by a wild, headstrong nature. She was like a wild whirlwind, recognized no rules, and trailed behind Baelon everywhere, refusing to listen to anyone's counsel," Alysanne paused for a moment. The bright smile brought by memories of Alyssa quickly vanished, replaced by heavy, lingering bitterness, her fingers tightening slightly around the porcelain cup. "As for Saera... in her upbringing, I likely made the most terrible mistake - neglected her, missed the moment. In the end, pride and stubbornness ruined my daughter, forcing Jaehaerys to punish her severely and banish her forever from Westeros." The Queen closed her eyes, enduring a surge of old maternal grief, and when she spoke again, her voice sounded very quiet and broken. "And my poor, gentle Daella... she was far too fragile for this world and died far too young, having only lived long enough to give life to little Aemma."
Silence settled over the terrace for a moment, broken only by the rhythmic sound of sea waves crashing against the shore far below. Rhaenys lowered her eyes and spoke softly:
"Perhaps that is why my father, because of poor Aunt Daella's tragic fate, insisted so firmly that my own wedding to Viserys take place as late as possible. He was terribly afraid that an early childbirth might kill me as well."
"And so it is, my dear," Queen Alysanne nodded, stroking her granddaughter's hand. "Aemon loved Daella dearly and could not bear the thought of such a tragedy repeating itself with you."
Wishing to dispel the sudden sorrow and steer the conversation into lighter waters, Viserra gently adjusted her light shawl around her shoulders and addressed her mother and niece:
"Corlys is insisting very strongly that we depart for High Tide for the final month of my pregnancy. He wants us to set sail in the very near future."
Queen Alysanne raised her eyebrows in surprise, shifting her gaze to Viserra:
"To Driftmark? But why now, Viserra? The Red Keep has the finest maesters, and your family is right here. Why set sail on a sea voyage just before the child is born?"
"My husband passionately desires his heir to be born at High Tide," Viserra answered with pride in her voice. "In the very castle from which our son will rule all of House Velaryon in the future."
Rhaenys smirked, casting a sly glance at the princess:
"And whence comes this unshakable certainty, Viserra, that it is a boy you carry beneath your heart? The maesters never dare claim such a thing for certain until the moment of birth."
"I simply feel it with my whole soul, Rhaenys," Viserra answered with soft conviction, placing a palm on her belly. "A mother's heart cannot be mistaken."
"And what of Corlys's duties at court?" Queen Alysanne asked, frowning. "He sits on the King's Small Council and is responsible for the realm's fleet. Jaehaerys will hardly be pleased with his prolonged absence from the capital."
"Corlys has already thought of that, Mother," Viserra reassured her. "During his absence, he has decided to leave his younger brother Daeron to fulfill all duties of admiral and council member. Daeron will manage those tasks splendidly. And Corlys himself will return to King's Landing immediately after our son's birth. He intends to discuss this decision with the King personally this evening during our joint family dinner."
Hearing of the upcoming trip, Rhaenys beamed. Stepping closer to Viserra, she exclaimed with enthusiasm:
"If you are going to Spicetown and High Tide, then I shall certainly sail with you! I would not miss the birth of my beloved Aunt Viserra's first child for anything in the world. I want to be beside you on that important day!"
"I shall only be truly glad if you are by my side, Rhaenys," Viserra replied warmly, squeezing her niece's hand. "Your presence will give me even greater strength."
Queen Alysanne shook her head, looking at her granddaughter with feigned sternness:
"And what of your daily lessons and studies, Rhaenys? You cannot simply abandon your studies and run off with Viserra."
"High Tide houses a truly magnificent, vast library, Mother," Viserra immediately interceded for her niece. "If Rhaenys truly wishes to continue her lessons, I shall personally ask Maester Maleon of High Tide, who serves House Velaryon faithfully, to give her the necessary lessons in history and law."
"You see!" Rhaenys immediately brightened, seizing this wonderful opportunity and looking at the Queen in triumph. "King's Landing will stand perfectly well without me for a month or two, and Maester Maleon will teach me no worse than Maester Elysar!"
Queen Alysanne smiled despite herself, looking at her granddaughter's shining eyes. She pondered for a moment and finally nodded:
"Well, there is logic in your words. If Maester Maleon takes charge of your tutelage, I shall not object. What is more... I shall accompany you myself, Viserra. I wish to be present at my daughter's labor and be certain that all goes well."
At that moment, little Gael, who had been listening intently to the adults' conversation the whole time, stopped stroking Ares, raised her sweet head, and asked hopefully:
"Mother, what about me? Will I be taken to that pretty island where brother Corlys lives?"
Queen Alysanne laughed merrily at the naive expression on her youngest daughter's face, leaning down to stroke her hair affectionately:
"And where would I go without my little girl? Of course I shall take you with me, my dear. Very soon you will meet your new nephew when Viserra gives us a little babe."
Little Gael rose from the carpet, leaving the slumbering Ares, and unhurriedly walked over to Viserra's chair. Placing her tiny, warm palms on her sister's swollen belly, she inspected it for a few seconds with a most serious and grave expression, then voiced a completely innocent yet terribly amusing question:
"Viserra... how are the healers going to get my nephew out of that huge, swollen belly? It's so round, like a ripe pumpkin! Are they going to slice it open with a knife, or will he just jump out on his own?"
A ringing laugh erupted across the terrace. Queen Alysanne burst into genuine laughter, covering her mouth with her hand, while Rhaenys struggled to suppress her smile.
"Oh, Gael, my sweet child," the Queen said, still laughing as she called her youngest daughter over and set her on her lap. "I shall certainly tell you how babies come into the world, but only when you have grown a little older."
At that very moment, the heavy oak door leading from the terrace into the chambers opened quietly, and Corlys appeared on the threshold. In his sumptuous doublet of sea-green, with his proud posture and the constant calm in his gaze, he looked truly impressive. Spotting the gathered company, Corlys smiled warmly and bowed politely to the Queen and Rhaenys:
"Good evening to all present. As I can see, a rather lively discussion is underway here."
Corlys walked unhurriedly to Viserra's chair, leaned down, and kissed his wife tenderly on the temple, placing a hand on her shoulder.
"How are you feeling, my love?" he asked softly.
Before Viserra could open her mouth, Gael, sitting on her mother's lap with an important look on her face, cut in and addressed Corlys readily:
"Brother Corlys! Sister Viserra is fine, but I think the babe inside her has grown far too big!"
Corlys narrowed his eyes slightly, barely holding back a smile, and asked the little princess with interest:
"And why have you decided, Gael, that our babe is too big?"
"See for yourself!" Gael declared endearingly and in dead earnest, spreading her arms wide. "Viserra has turned completely round because of this babe! She used to have such a pretty, narrow waist, and now her belly is bigger than a dragon's egg!"
Everyone present laughed in unison once more. Shaking her head, Rhaenys leaned down to Gael and said affectionately:
"Gael, one day, when you grow up, you will understand a simple truth: no matter how huge a mother's belly becomes before childbirth, newborn babies are born quite tiny and can fit in the palms of your hands."
The little princess pouted indignantly, not understanding this logic at all, and insisted stubbornly:
"But how can the babe be small and tiny if sister has such a humongous belly?! That isn't fair!"
Viserra stroked her sister's soft hair tenderly, quietly amused by her childish conviction:
"We shall certainly see together just how big or small my child turns out to be when he finally comes into the world, sweet Gael."
Turning her eyes to her husband, Viserra smiled and said to Corlys:
"Speaking of childbirth, Corlys... I have just spoken with Rhaenys and Mother about our upcoming departure for Driftmark. They expressed a wish to sail with us and accompany us on this journey."
Corlys turned to Queen Alysanne, his face expressing the gratitude. He bowed his head slightly and said:
"It will be the highest honor for me and for all of House Velaryon to host Your Grace, Princess Rhaenys, and little Princess Gael within the walls of High Tide. I shall send a letter by swift raven to the island this very evening so that the servants immediately prepare the finest guest chambers, worthy of the royal family. And, of course, I shall give orders to prepare sufficient stocks of livestock to feed Dreamfyre, Meleys, and Silverwing."
Corlys paused briefly and added with a slight smile:
"Though as for feeding the dragons, we shall not face the slightest trouble. Ever since that first day when my beautiful wife claimed Dreamfyre, I gave personal orders to purchase livestock en masse along the entire coast and begin actively breeding them on the pastures."
Hearing this, Rhaenys chuckled merrily:
"With such incredible hospitality and bounty, Lord Corlys, my Meleys might soon come to love Driftmark far more than grim and dreary Dragonstone!"
"Both Meleys and her valiant rider are ever truly welcome in my castle," Corlys replied with a light bow.
Queen Alysanne rose from her chair, adjusting the hem of her gown with a sigh:
"Well, we have certainly overstayed our welcome, my dears. The hour approaches dinner, and it is time for us to go prepare ourselves. We shall meet at the joint dinner with the King very soon."
The royal family began to gather themselves. One last time, Gael gently stroked Ares's black back - the panther merely swished his tail lazily - and looked after the Queen and Rhaenys. The guests left the chambers of the princess and Lord Velaryon.
When the heavy door closed behind them and a relative quiet settled in the chambers, Corlys walked unhurriedly over to Viserra. He gently took her hands, helping her rise from the deep armchair on the terrace. Supporting his wife's lower back with care, he guided her out of the evening chill into their spacious bedroom and helped her settle carefully onto the soft, silk-draped bed.
"Lie down with me, please," Viserra asked softly, pulling him by the hand after her.
Without a word, Corlys shed his heavy outer doublet, remaining in a light linen shirt, and carefully lay down beside her on the bed. Viserra immediately moved closer and, with a blissful sense of serenity, wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders, nestling her nose into his neck. Corlys embraced her in return, stroking her smooth hair, and asked quietly:
"Now tell me the truth, Viserra... How do you truly feel? Without all those polite answers for your mother and the guests."
The princess raised her clear eyes to him and answered in all honesty:
"I feel very good indeed, Corlys. Wonderful, in truth. Thanks to your marvelous potions and elixirs, I have long forgotten what morning sickness and weakness feel like. And our babe... oh, he is extraordinarily active today."
Viserra took his large, slightly calloused palm and placed it tenderly directly upon her belly, exposed beneath her dress. No sooner had Corlys's fingers touched the supple skin than a strong, distinct, and rhythmic kick surged from below. The child seemed to deliberately strike the very spot where his father's hand lay.
"See?" Viserra whispered with a tender smile, looking at her husband. "Our boy senses his father perfectly. He is greeting you."
Corlys smiled despite himself - that rare, incredibly warm smile that only she ever saw. He ran a thumb over her belly, feeling the strong life pulsing within.
"I am certain he shall be the finest, strongest, and healthiest child in all of Westeros," he said quietly yet firmly.
"I hope so with all my heart," Viserra whispered, pressing her cheek against his chest and listening to the steady beat of his heart. "Corlys... I no longer remember how many times I have thanked the gods that it was you who became my husband. Fate brought us together through so many obstacles, and I am immeasurably happy that everything turned out as it did. I cannot even imagine what would have become of me had I not met you on my path... I suppose I would have been wed to some old lord, or perhaps failed to become a mother at all, consumed by my own loneliness and rage."
Corlys gently pressed a finger to her lips, cutting off the flood of painful memories, and looked into her eyes with affectionate sternness:
"Do not even think of such things, Viserra. Stop poisoning your soul with the phantoms of what might have been. You must think only of good things, of our child, of our future, and never fret over what shall never come to pass in this life. We forge our own destiny."
Viserra nodded silently, acknowledging his wisdom, and for several moments quiet peace reigned in the bedchamber. Then the princess raised her head slightly and quietly asked a question that had long weighed on her mind:
"Corlys... what are we to do about a dragon for our son? For the heir of House Velaryon and the son of Corlys Velaryon must have a dragon."
Corlys smirked slightly, a familiar spark of calculation flashing in his eyes:
"Everything is already planned, my princess. When the time comes, I shall choose one of the dragon eggs stored in my secret vaults. Using my power, I shall help the dragon hatch from it into the world. And after that, we shall publicly announce that the egg was laid by Dreamfyre herself and hatched specifically for our newborn son."
Viserra looked at her husband with astonishment and approval, appreciating the sheer brilliance of the scheme:
"It is absolutely seamless and logical at the same time! No one in the entire world will be able to doubt the egg's origin. Neither the maesters nor my father. And if we do this some time after our son is born... while my mother, sister, and Rhaenys are still at High Tide, it will be even better. They will witness this miracle with their own eyes. And then even King Jaehaerys himself will not suspect the slightest trick."
Corlys chuckled softly, drawing his wife close with love and kissing her on the lips:
"You learn remarkably fast, my princess. I wonder who is to thank for that."
Viserra laughed merrily, nestling comfortably beside him on the pillows and closing her eyes in anticipation of the evening dinner:
"How could it be otherwise, my dear husband? After all, I was taught by the finest man and schemer in all the world."
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A/N
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