The Prince of Dorne

Prologue

The shadow city of Sunspear was as silent as it could only be at full dark, shadows breeding in every corner and cut purses waiting for unwary to come by and rob them of their coins. But the silence that fell on the city that clung to the walls of Sunspear could not be said to reflect the turmoil that brewed in the Old Place, nestled in the centre of the great seat of House Martell, the screams that echoed inside it's walls were testament enough to that.

Another scream from the birthing chamber sent a shiver down Doran's spine, what a terrible feeling it was. To wait outside while his lady wife struggled to bring their first child, his heir, into the world. Mellario had been so brave through out all of it, she had been walking around the old palace and even as short as the last week had been going down to the shadow city to find new bolts of silk and meeting with her favourite seamstress.

It had only been during the last few days that she had seemed to truly feel that she was with child, she had been more and more tired as of late and it caused him a great deal of worry. And this morning when they had been laying in bed and she had woke him, screaming and shaking him and telling him that she had her waters and that the time had come.

It had all been such a rush after that he could not recall how they had ended up where they were, what he did recall was that the first time that he had glanced out the window, the sun was still hanging high in the sky and the sky itself was the most beautiful blue that had ever seen. Now the moon hung fat in the sky, the King's Crown blazing in the sky and Nymeria's star threatened to outshine them all as she lead her ten thousand ships across the sky.

A strong hand came down on his shoulder and he turned his head to see to see Oberyn, giving him a smile that he imagined was meant to be comforting. Doran might have found it more so if his brother didn't look so pale at the moment. He enjoyed making bastards, the way his brother had...indulged himself, there was no doubt that he had one or two scattered about the corners of the world, but he had never heard a woman birth anymore than he had.

Oberyn was their mother's last child and Doran had been away at the Salt Shore, serving as a squire when their mother had brought Elia and then Oberyn into the world. It was a new thing for the both of them and Doran had tried, he had tried to be ready for this. Many candles had burned down to nothing for his efforts as he read into the night, accounts of maesters and midwives and septas all of whom had attended births to be ready.

But reading was one thing, dealing with it as it happened was quite another. He had wanted to be inside the chamber when it happened, he wanted to hold Mel's hand and kiss her brow and comfort her through all the pain and promise that it would all be over soon, even though the septon and the maester and the midwives and even his own mother said that it would not right for a man other than a maester to be in the birthing chamber, he had argued, said that he would.

But when the time had come, all the strength had left him and now he could only pace back and forth as he waited for it all to be over. He patted the top of Oberyn's hand to show some appreciation for the attempt at comfort before he began to resume pacing. He only stopped when a loud shriek, louder than any of the others he had heard this endless day which made all the blood drain from his face.

The world fell silent for a few moment and each moment seemed to last an eternity, the door opened and his mother stepped out. As always her eyes were fill with wisdom and kindness as she looked at him and he thanked every god that he knew of that he saw no pity or sadness in the gaze as she looked at him. "It's time to come in."

Doran breathed deep and stepped forward in the room, Elia was sitting next to the bed and she yielded up her seat with a smile when she stood and walked over to stand by Oberyn and their mother while the maester and the midwives busied themselves with cleaning the room and left not long after. Doran sat down in the chair, though he would not deny that he would have sunk to the floor at the enormity he felt when he saw the bundle of swaddling that his lady wife held so close to her chest.

Mellario looked at him and smiled, her amber eyes alight with joy even as tears ran down her cheeks. She sniffled only once, brushed away her tears with her free hand and handed the swadalling over to him with a sigh. "My lord, your son and your heir is born."

Doran looked down at the tiny brown face, amber eyes staring up at him with complete and utter trust and wonder, for what choice did a precious little thing like this have? Who was so delicate and born into a world with so many men who would not hesitate to end such a life if they felt that they had too, or because their lord commanded it or simply because they felt like it.

He swore then and there that he would keep his son safe, he promised. He held out his finger and when his son's tiny hand came up to clench around his finger, the love he felt at that moment grew more than anything that he could ever expect. He pressed a kiss to the top of the babe's head and then lifted his head, leaned forward and kissed Mellario deeply, he would cup her cheek but he did not dare in case he would drop the child. He pulled away and smiled, feeling no shame in the tears he knew that he was weeping. "Thank you my love, thank you."

His mother chose her moment then, he saw her pride and her love for her first grandchild but he also saw the satisfaction in her dark eyes that she knew another link in the chain of succession was securer, well, stronger at the very least. Doran knew that his duty was not done yet, he and Mellario would need to have more children but he saw no issue with that, they were both young and certainly not without eagerness. "I trust that I do not need to tell you that the both of you will need to have a name for the little prince, sooner rather than later if my opinion matters anything to you."

It always had but the matter of the name had been a great deal of debate for both of them, they had discussed a great many options of course. Nymeria was the most obvious choice had it been a girl, or Meria. Arianne for Mel's mother and Loreza for his. For boys, well Mors and Olyvar in tribute to the two brothers that he had never known, Trystane for his own late father or Darius for Mel's. But now as he stared down at the tiny babe, none of the names they had thought of seemed to suit him.

The hours passed with all of them suggesting one name and yet none seemed to fit, Oberyn was the first to leave, his little brother never being one for patience though when he did leave he left with a jape to send a raven when they did finally decide. Elia grew tired and begged their leave, their mother leaving not long after her. Soon it was just them.

The babe had fallen asleep by then, Mel japing that it was almost as though he had thought that he had been the one to do all the work. Doran laughed but he soon found that the lack of a name coming to him filled him with an unease. He closed his eyes and tried to think of the right word, surely it would come to him in time. Almost like a lightening bolt, it came to him.

"Lewyn." He almost didn't realise that he said it out loud, only when his wife looked at him did he realise that he had given his words voice. "I think it will suit him well enough."

"Your uncle's name?" Mel glanced down at the babe and then shrugged. "It's a fine name, and we do need to call him something. Yes, Lewyn. I like it."

"Then Lewyn it shall be." Doran said with a proud smile, cupping the babe's head.

End of Prologue.

Welp, here's another one. So, the Starks and the Baratheons always seem to get an elder son or daughter OC to get inserted into stories, I should know as I have done both so why not the Martells as well?

Anyway, please leave a review if you enjoyed.

With much love,

Doctorwhofan12345.