Chapter Text
The days leading up to Valora's name day passed by in a rush, and soon she found herself waiting at the docks of Dragonstone for her grandfather and his family to arrive by ship.
Rhaenyra and Valora stood side by side, with their respective guards standing close behind them, and each of their ladies in waiting was waiting a little further back. Marissa and Matila were now joined by Emanda Tully and Georgine Oakheart, the two ladies in waiting that Valora had chosen to stop her mother's insistence.
"She chose her ladies perfectly; all four of you are incredibly trustworthy, as we have seen," Rhaenyra spoke, turning her attention to the four women as she addressed them.
Alicent tensed at the remark towards her.
"Thank you, your grace." Marissa smiled.
Matila followed suit with a firm nod, echoing her friend. "We only did what the Princess expects of us."
Emanda straightened, clearly surprised but pleased, her hands folding neatly in front of her. Georgine's lips curved into a small, proud smile as she inclined her head as well.
Due to the events that took place the last time the family was all together, Rhaenyra decided it was best that only the two be there to greet them. Even then, she would have preferred it just be her, but since it was Valora's name day celebration, she was expected.
The first sign that the king's ship was near was the three dragons flying over the island. Valora tensed as she looked at Vhagar, remembering who her rider was.
Rhaenyra's hand rested lightly on Valora's shoulder, in a quiet act of assurance as the ship docked.
"She really would have been perfectly happy with just my cousin and her aunt showing up." Rhaenys noted.
Helaena smiled slightly. It was truly important to her just how much her niece genuinely enjoyed her company.
The two silver-haired princesses straightened as King Viserys finally stepped onto the docks, Queen Alicent and their children, Aegon, Helaena, Aemond and, surprisingly, Daeron following him.
Valora's eyes tracked each step of the arriving party. Viserys, his condition significantly worse than it had been the last time the Velaryon Princess had seen him, made her heart ache slightly. Alicent's posture was tense as she wearily eyed the dragons flying overhead.
Corlys watched the king with a careful, measured gaze. "A ruler should not look like that in public," he said quietly.
Rhaenys' lips pressed thin. "No, they should not."
Aegon looked simply bored as if he was already done with this occasion, Helaena on the other hand, was smiling kindly at Valora, having missed the girls' companionship over the years.
"He hasn't even started drinking yet," Rhaena whispered, sounding almost impressed.
Baela snorted. "Give it time."
"Things were... quieter without her." Helaena murmured dreamily, almost to herself.
Daeron was shifting awkwardly in his spot, not used to being around this side of his family over the hightower side.
"He looks like he's waiting to be told where to sit," Jace muttered.
Luke tilted his head sympathetically. "He never quite learned how to belong here."
Daemon watched Daeron with a critical eye. "He has been raised elsewhere," he said coolly. "He is more Hightower than dragon." He judged.
But it was Aemond's actions that made the girl shiver uncomfortably; he was eyeing her with a look of possessiveness in his eye.
Rhaenyra's expression sharpened. "He's staring again," she murmured.
Daemon's mouth twisted. "He always does."
"The entitlement," Jasper said flatly.
Aemond's eye flicked briefly toward Jasper, sharp and warning, not that the Arryn man cared.
Baela bristled. "He can look somewhere else."
Helaena's smile faltered as she watched the memory of her brother. "He was never going to earn her love," she whispered faintly.
Viserys smiled brightly at his daughter and grandchild, "My dear." Viserys greeted his eldest child.
"Father!" Rhaenyra greeted the king, whose attention had turned to his granddaughter.
"It is hard to believe you are a woman grown." He spoke whistfully. "You have become such a strong young woman. The future of the realm is indeed bright."
Valora inclined her head respectfully. "Thank you, Grandfather," she murmured softly, her voice steady despite the flutter of nerves in her chest.
Queen Alicent's gaze flickered over the dragons, her jaw tightening slightly at the sight of Vhagar and the other dragons circling above. Yet she remained poised, the queenly facade carefully maintained. "The festivities today shall be grand," she said stiffly, her eyes turned to the sailors moving around the dock, all pretending they weren't watching the royal family interacting.
Alicent shifted in her seat as the memory played, fingers curling into her skirts. "I was being diplomatic," she said defensively.
Daemon let out a laugh. "You were terrified."
"I was cautious," Alicent snapped.
Rhaenys arched a brow. "Of dragons?" she asked coolly. "Or of what they represented?"
Rhaenyra's hand squeezed her daughters reassuringly, and Valora found a steadying breath. "Let us proceed, then," Rhaenyra said softly, her voice carrying a note of command to draw attention away from the tension.
The princess nodded, allowing herself a small, almost imperceptible smile, as the royal procession began moving toward the halls of Dragonstone.
Rhaenyra exhaled slowly. "I remember thinking if I didn't move us along, something would snap."
Laenor nodded. "You could feel it. Like a storm sitting just offshore."
Once the King and his family had been shown to their temporary chambers, Rhaenyra shooed her daughter back to her chambers to prepare for the ball while she made sure everything was perfect.
Valora was shown sitting on a comfy sofa as she waited for her ladies in waiting to return with the two extravagant gowns she had agreed to wear for the ball tonight.
She sighed as she prepared herself for the upcoming event, mentally going through her checklist of the guests she needed to make sure she spent time speaking to.
The princess stood from her space as she began to pace the length of her bedchambers, her hands clenching and unclenching as she muttered to herself.
"She's nervous," Luke whispered.
Baela tilted her head. "No. She's calculating."
Jace glanced between them. "It can be both."
"Princess!" Marissa called out, surprising the silver-haired girl.
"Marissa." Valora breathed out, "Is everything alright?" she asked, her body tensing at the idea of something going wrong.
"That tension," Laenor noted quietly. "She expects things to go wrong."
Marissa smiled slightly "Nothing's wrong, princess. I was just wondering where your mind is at?" She gently prodded.
"This night has to go to plan, I need it to go right. By the time the night ends, everyone needs to be convinced that there could possibly be something between Ser Jasper and I." Valora ranted slightly.
"I'm sure if you were to announce that you wish to wed Ser Jasper, then it will be accepted." Marissa assured the girl.
Marissa's voice drew a small smile from Rhaenyra. "Thank the gods for her ladies," she said softly. "They keep her grounded."
Matila shifted slightly where she sat, clearly remembering the moment. "We could always tell when she was spiralling," she murmured.
Valora shook her head slightly "No, while I know my mother and stepfather would accept my choice. There is still a possibility that my grandfather, as the king, will attempt to push another match." She stated.
Marissa frowned "The King would wish for you to be happy. You managed to get him to agree to let you learn how to sword fight. I'm sure he will accept your choice of husband." She reminded the girl.
"That was before Otto Hightower was given the position of Hand." Valora noted "Over the years since Ser Lyonel Strong's passing, and Otto Hightower was chosen as Hand. The King has grown more hesitant to grant permission for my plans. I worry that my grandfather, without realising, would be easily persuaded to find a more political arrangement that would benefit the Hand's blood and not ours, since my mother already shares blood with House Arryn." Valora patiently argued back.
Viserys flinched at that, shame flickering across his face.
"I never meant..." he began, then trailed off.
Otto's mouth thinned.
Daemon's smile turned sharp. "There it is."
Rhaenyra's eyes hardened. "She knew," she said flatly. "Long before I wanted to admit it."
Alicent stiffened. "She assumes manipulation where there is caution."
"And she's not wrong," Corlys replied coolly.
"I suppose it is better to be safe." Marissa reluctantly agreed.
A servant girl entered the room, nodding to Marissa slightly before leaving again "Princess, your bath is ready." Marissa told the silver-haired girl.
Valora absently nodded, already back in her thoughts.
The scene switched again, showing Valora now wearing a flowing, deep-blue gown embroidered with intricate gold detailing, its structured bodice fitted elegantly to her form, while a sweeping, deep-blue gold-trimmed cape draped from her shoulders, surrounded by her ladies as they adorned her with sapphire-encrusted jewellery.
"She looks beautiful," Laena whispered to her friend.
Rhaenyra smiled at her friend's words. She couldn't deny she was glad to be getting the chance to see her daughter in this dress once again.
Helaena tilted her head, watching the way the jewels caught the light. "She looks like the sea learned how to breathe," she murmured dreamily.
Aegon snorted. "Bit dramatic, isn't it?"
Aemond didn't speak. His gaze was fixed on the screen, jaw tight, unblinking.
The Princess observed her look, a far cry from the girl who always wore a ribbon in her hair.
Laenor's breath caught. "Gods," he whispered, fingers curling slightly. "She looks... grown." he uttered sadly.
The ball began as the great doors of the Dragonstone hall were pulled open, spilling warm golden light into the corridor where Valora stood poised, breath caught in her chest.
Music swelled from within, harps, flutes, and soft drums weaving a melody that shimmered like sunrise over calm seas. The hall itself had been transformed to match the colours she had chosen: pale blue silks draped the walls, gold lanterns cast soft glows across intricate white floral arrangements, and above it all, banners of House Targaryen and House Velaryon hung side by side, each thread gleaming in the torchlight.
Corlys straightened slightly at the sight of the Velaryon banners hanging beside the Targaryen sigils. "Side by side," he murmured. "As it should be."
Laena smiled warmly. "She thought of everything."
Otto's gaze flicked over the decorations with measured calculation. "Every detail sends a message." he noted.
"And every message is intentional," Rhaenys replied coolly.
"Princess Valora Velaryon," the herald at the far end of the hall announced, voice ringing out above the music. "Daughter of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, Princess of Dragonstone, and heir to the Iron Throne."
Awe rippled through the gathered lords and ladies as Valora stepped into view.
Her gown drew every eye. The sapphires at her neck and ears caught the light like the sea itself. Her silver hair, woven intricately by Marissa and Matila, glimmered with tiny gold pins that turned each movement into a soft spark.
Shaenyra grinned at the sight of her mother, "Pretty." She giggled.
"She does look very pretty indeed, little princess." Emanda kindly agreed with the little girl.
Valora stepped forward into the hall, each footfall controlled, poised, but her pulse thrummed like dragon wings beneath her skin.
The princess continued her path towards the high table where her family were seated.
"She walks like she already owns the room," Baela murmured, admiration bright in her voice.
"She always has," Rhaena replied quietly.
"That's my girl," Rhaenyra said under her breath.
Viserys' smile deepened at the sight. "She looks every inch the heir," he murmured, voice thick with emotion.
Daemon grinned. "And everyone in that hall sees it," he pointed out.
"She's grown into herself," Laena said softly.
Rhaenyra, radiant in Targaryen black and red, watched her daughter with pride from her seat. Daemon lounged in his seat with casual, predatory ease, though even his sharp gaze softened for a moment as it swept over his stepdaughter.
From their place at the table, Corlys and Rhaenys shared their own proud looks at the sight of their granddaughter in their house colours.
As she walked past the crowd, the hall's whispers swelled like a tide.
"Princess Valora looks divine tonight..."
"A woman grown indeed..."
"A true Valyrian beauty, through and through..."
Aegon scoffed faintly. "They're practically tripping over themselves."
Jace shot him a look. "That's what happens when someone commands respect without forcing it."
Valora kept her chin high, expression serene. Cedric appeared silently at her back, taking his position nearby as she reached the steps of the high table.
"That man never leaves her side," Criston Cole muttered.
"For good reason," Rhaenys replied sharply.
Cedric laughed slightly before turning to the other man, "It's called doing my job, although we are all well aware you do not know how to do that."
Criston's jaw tightened, colour rising in his cheeks. "Mind your tongue," he snapped.
Cedric met his glare without flinching. "I am," he replied calmly. "That's the difference."
Baela leaned toward Jace, grinning. "I think that's the politest insult I've ever heard."
Jace nodded solemnly. "Devastating. Absolutely devastating."
Alicent stiffened. "This is hardly appropriate..."
"Oh, hush," Rhaenys cut in coolly. "You'd prefer he leave her unguarded?"
Viserys chuckled weakly from his seat. "I should hope my granddaughter is well protected."
Aemond glared daggers at Cedric's back, his hands curling into fists. "He stands too close."
Rhaenyra's voice was quiet but sharp. "He stands exactly where he's meant to."
Valora paused at the base of the dais, fingers smoothing the edge of her skirt as she dipped into a measured, elegant curtsey before the high table.
All eyes turned fully to her now.
Viserys straightened as much as his failing body allowed, his single good eye alight with pride. "Come here, my little dragon," he called warmly, gesturing with one frail, ring-heavy hand.
Valora ascended the steps with controlled grace, her cape trailing behind her like a wave of midnight-blue sea. She bent to kiss her grandfather's cheek, the smell of herbs and ointments faint beneath the ever-present tang of incense and wine.
Laena smiled softly. "She always knows how to move," she said. "Like she belongs wherever she stands."
"She does," Rhaenys replied. "That's why they watch her so closely."
"You are the very image of your mother," Viserys whispered, voice thick with emotion. "And yet entirely yourself. The gods have been kind to me, to let me see you as you are tonight."
"She's everything Viserys hoped for in a heir," Corlys said quietly.
"And more than the realm deserves," Rhaenys added.
Valora's smile softened, the stiffness in her shoulders easing. "You honour me, Grandfather," she murmured. "I am glad you were well enough to come."
"For you, my dear girl? I would have crawled here," he declared, earning a ripple of gentle laughter from those seated nearby.
Jace grinned. "He means it too."
"He would have," Luke agreed earnestly.
The boys' words caused their uncles to tense once again, reminded that their own father would choose his bastard grandchildren over them.
Valora straightened and turned to Alicent. The Queen's green silk gown shimmered in the torchlight, her seven-pointed star resting against her throat. The tension in her shoulders was carefully hidden, but her eyes were sharp as ever.
"Your Grace," Valora said politely, inclining her head.
"Princess," Alicent replied with a measured smile. "You look... very well prepared for the evening." Her gaze flicked briefly over the hall, as though already measuring who might be watching, who might be gossiping. "I trust the night will be... significant for you."
"It is only the matter of turning ten-and-six," Valora responded lightly, her tone carefully neutral. "Nothing more."
Laenor exhaled a breath of laughter. "Gods, she's good."
"She learned early," Rhaenys said. "Neutral words, steady tone. Never give them more than they earn."
Otto, seated near the Queen, pressed his lips together, studying the girl with quiet calculation. Rhaenyra's gaze flicked to him once, cool and warning, before softening again as Valora moved to stand between her and Daemon.
Rhaenyra reached out and brushed a thumb across her daughter's knuckles. "You look perfect," she murmured so that only their side of the table could hear. "As you always do."
Rhaenys watched the gesture with a small, knowing smile. "She gets that from you," she said quietly.
Corlys inclined his head. "And the rest from the sea and fire."
Daemon gave Valora a slow, assessing look, then tipped his goblet in her direction. "I suppose I'll be fending off half the realm before the night is done," he drawled. "Try not to start any wars while you're at it."
"I'll do my best, Kepa," she replied dryly, earning a faint, amused huff from him.
"It's Baela that was more likely to start any wars that night." Jace teased, his betrothed was rather protective of Valora.
Baela grinned at that "Without hesitation." She agreed. Valora had been there for her during her mother's death, and in that moment, ten-year-old Baela had promised herself to return the protection tenfold.
Further down the table, Aegon lounged in his chair, one arm draped carelessly over the back, a goblet already in hand despite the early hour. He glanced up, eyes sweeping lazily over Valora before sliding away again, uninterested.
Otto noted the way Aegon was holding himself with a tight smile; he certainly had his work cut out for him with Aegon as king.
Helaena, seated beside him, was watching Valora with open delight.
When Valora's gaze met hers, Helaena offered a small, warm smile and a fluttering wave.
Jaehaera leaned closer to her mother. "She looks like she's from a storybook." She whispered.
Jaehaerys nodded at his sister's words, "She's pretty." He added.
Helaena smiled at her children; they certainly weren't wrong.
Daeron, completely unused to these kinds of events, offered Valora a shy nod, his cheeks colouring faintly when she returned it.
Laenor smiled at that. "Poor boy looks like he's been thrown to the lions."
"He'll survive," Laena said fondly. "He has manners unlike his brothers."
Aemond's gaze, however, was anything but shy. He watched Valora like a hawk, his single violet eye gleaming, the sapphire hidden beneath his patch seeming almost to burn. His fingers tightened around the stem of his goblet as she turned, the intensity of his stare bordering on possessive.
Valora met his gaze only briefly, her expression cool, before turning away deliberately.
Joffrey snorted a laugh at his sister's actions; it never failed to bring him joy whenever his sister annoyed the one-eyed prince.
"And yet he still thinks she would have ever chosen to marry him." Marissa scoffed quietly to herself
Rhaenyra nodded toward the empty seat placed beside her. "Sit, Lora. We will begin properly once everyone has eaten."
Marissa, Matila, Emanda, and Georgine moved about the edges of the hall, taking up their own quiet positions where they could observe and assist when needed.
Valora settled into her seat, the soft murmurs of the hall swelling and ebbing around her like distant waves. She let her eyes drift briefly to the seat beside her, where Jacaerys sat with barely contained amusement.
Jace leaned in the moment she was seated, his grin wide and unrestrained.
Rhaenyra's lips curved faintly. "He always sat closest to her," she murmured.
"He's been like that since he was a babe, always following Valora," Laenor noted.
"Like a little duck." Rhaenyra laughed to herself.
"If I didn't know better, I'd say half these lords came only to catch a glimpse of you rather than the festivities," he whispered, teasingly bumping her arm.
Valora gave him a pointed look. "And you had better not start fights with them because of it."
Baela snorted. "He's not wrong."
Otto's mouth tightened. "Attention like that is rarely harmless."
Jace raised his hands in surrender. "I make no promises. But I'll try for you."
She rolled her eyes, though affection softened her features. "Thank you."
Luke, shy but earnest, leaned forward from Jace's other side so she could see him clearly.
"Lora... will you dance with me later?" he asked, his voice small but hopeful.
Rhaenys smiled at her husband's heir. "Oh, that boy adored her."
"It was rare to find someone who didn't." Corlys reminded his wife.
Rhaenys hummed at her husband's words.
Valora's smile warmed instantly. "Of course, sweetling. There is no way I would have a name day celebration without sharing a dance with my darling brothers."
Luke brightened like a lantern suddenly lit. "Truly?"
"Truly," she affirmed.
Rhaenyra's breath caught, her lips parting slightly. "She never forgets them," she murmured. "Not even for a moment."
Laenor smiled softly. "She always made sure they knew they mattered."
"Darling brothers." Alicent scoffed to herself. There was nothing darling about those boys.
Luke settled happily back into his seat, the tension in his shoulders melting away.
Joffrey, now four, sat bouncing in his chair, legs kicking under the table. He leaned far over his plate to peer at Valora.
"Lora! Lora!" he whispered very loudly. "Do you think there will be lemon cakes?"
Balea laughed quietly. "There it is."
Daemon smirked. "The real priority of the evening."
Valora held back a laugh. "I'm quite certain Rhaena made sure of it."
Rhaena lifted her chin proudly. "I always did."
Laena smiled at her daughter before raising an eyebrow at Rhaenyra "I wonder where that habit comes from?" She teasingly questioned her friend.
"It is quite a mystery." Rhaenyra played along as if it wasn't a known fact that the Queen loved lemon cakes.
Joffrey sighed with deep relief and sank back in his seat dramatically. "Good. I didn't want to run away if there weren't any."
Baela burst out laughing. "You were absolutely ready to flee."
"I could see it in his face," Luke added in jest. "He was already planning it."
Jace snorted. "Run where? Into the sea?"
Corlys lifted a brow. "A Velaryon fleeing into the sea would hardly be running away."
Joffrey glared, puffed up with righteous indignation. "I would have taken Tyraxes!"
Valora squeezed his hand gently. "No running away on dragons tonight, little brother."
"Thank the gods." Rhaenyra laughed
Daemon smirked. "Shame. It would've been entertaining."
Rhaenyra sent her husband a scolding look while Laena reached over and slapped him for her friend.
He nodded solemnly. "Only if I can have lemon cakes. I promise."
Laenor laughed outright. "Bribery works on him just like it works on me."
Joffrey seemed to straighten up at his father, mentioning something the two had in common.
Baela leaned slightly forward from her seat further down, her tone lowered but her grin sharp.
"You look wonderful, cousin," she whispered.
Valora arched a brow. "Should I expect you to join Jace in threatening anyone who asks me to dance?"
Jace groaned immediately. "I did not threaten anyone."
"Yes, you did," Luke and Baela said in unison.
"Not directly, at least," Jace argued with a grin.
Baela's grin widened. "I've already made a list."
Daemon let out a low chuckle. "I like her efficiency."
Rhaenyra shot him a look. "You encouraged that of her."
"Absolutely," he replied without shame.
Laena looked between her former husband and her eldest daughter, feeling bad for Rhaenyra for having to keep them both in line.
"Baela." Valora warned
"What? I'm being selective." Baela shrugged.
Rhaenys smiled faintly. "The poor lads won't know what hit them."
Valora tried to glare but failed, amusement flickering in her violet eyes. "Try not to terrify all the guests."
"No promises," Baela replied, leaning back smugly.
Alicent pressed her lips together. "That girl has no sense of decorum."
Laenor lifted a brow. "Or perhaps my niece just has no patience for nonsense."
Rhaena laughed at her sister before turning to her cousin.
"I love your gown," she said in her soft, melodic voice. "You look like the sea at dawn."
Helaena's eyes lit up. "She does," she murmured dreamily. "Like light over water."
Valora's eyes softened. "Thank you, Rhaena. And you look beautiful, too."
Rhaena flushed happily, smoothing her pale blue skirts. "I'm glad."
Valora smiled gently as she looked out over the gathered crowd, letting herself enjoy the celebration the slightest bit.