4: Melantha
When the carriage came to a stop inside the outer yard, the young women inside sighed in relief.
While the Stark sisters had opted to finish the journey by horse, their father had rushed them back into the confines of the carriage right before entering the city. Melantha supposed it was more ladylike to arrive that way, but in her current state she doubted it'd make much of a difference.
A young boy opened the door and held his hand. Melantha was the first to be led out, followed closely by Lyanna and Lady Catelyn, leaving the insufferable Lady Lysa to be the last.
She placed Maekar on the floor carefully, and the dog wasted no time in starting to sniff everything and everyone.
Melantha made her way to her father, who was dismounting his horse as he spoke to a knight clad in white. He must have been one of the Royal Guard.
The guard noticed her approach and bowed to her respectfully.
"My Lady, Ser Oswell Whent at your service. I hope your travels were safe."
"Indeed they were, Ser Oswell; and thankfully, much faster than anticipated." She smiled politely. "It seems no one had to wait so long after all."
"Good, then you shall have no argument against heading to the throne room at present."
Melantha and her father exchanged an uneasy glance. She hadn't had the chance to bathe in almost ten days; she smelt, her hair shone with grease and her clothes were dirty, full of dog hair and wrinkled.
"Is there not a chance to spare a few minutes so I can make myself presentable?" She asked, tentatively, although she could anticipate the answer.
"I'm afraid not, my lady. The king is eager to present you to the court." Ser Oswell nodded to a set of heavy looking black doors."Shall we?"
Melantha wanted to go back into the carriage and lock herself in and pretend she was back in Winterfell.
While she had been happy that her journey had finally come to an end, she was beginning to feel the familiar dread which had haunted her mostly at night ever since she learnt of her engagement. It was easy to ignore during the day while she kept herself busy and surrounded by people who seemed not to know when to keep quiet, but once she was left to her own devices and the sun abandoned her for different lands, the thoughts would return to her.
She took a deep breath. If all the other ladies had done it before her, so could she. It wouldn't be anything new, she told herself miserably.
Melantha ran her fingers over the skirt of her blue dress and forced her smile to remain.
"We shall. Please lead the way, Ser; it'd be imprudent to keep the king and everyone else waiting any longer."
Casting one glance around her, she swiftly approached the servant closest to her.
"Could you take my dog to my chambers, please? I wouldn't want him to get lost in a new place."
The servant, a short boy with dirty blond hair, eyed Maekar with slight distrust. The animal was sniffing a flower.
"Of course, m'lady. At once."
"Thank you."
Lyanna walked behind Melantha, who walked behind their father, who in turn walked behind Ser Oswell. One final look back resulted in Lady Catelyn wishing her good luck and giving her an encouraging smile.
The halls of the Red Keep were tall, and their footsteps echoed loudly.
Melantha spared no time in gawking at all the dragons tapestries that decorated the walls, and instead tried to re-arrange her hair and clothes as swiftly and subtly as she could.
Two days before their arrival to King's Landing, Melantha had suggested to her father to make a quick stop near a river so she could wash herself and put on a clean dress, but Lord Rickard had been in a hurry, and said there was no need to further delay their journey. Melantha tried to insist, saying that it would take less than two hours, and it'd make a good impression to the other nobles and the royal family, but her father wouldn't relent, saying that it was common for people to get dirty after so long on the road.
Melantha, who had already tempted her luck with her little outburst against Lady Lysa and still couldn't find it in herself to set her pride aside and apologize, bowed her head and decided to not fight that battle.
As they neared the massive red doors leading to the throne room however, she wished she had been more insistent.
Straightening her shoulders, she prayed that the royal family would see her unkempt appearance as a sign of her sense of duty having traveled such a distance in such haste to do her part.
The doors opened, and everyone turned to stare at the Lord of the north and his daughters.
Ser Oswell guided them slower now, giving them the illusion of composure.
As Melantha looked around the room, and spied the expression on some of the faces present, she had the sinking feeling that they were not making the best of impressions so far.
The sun shone down upon them through the windows, which were tall and thin, and each had an elegant design depicting different dragons. Some dragons were bigger than others, or had a longer neck or different colors, which led Melantha to the conclusion that they should be the likeness of the beasts the family had possessed long ago.
The columns had dragons carved into them as well, and soldiers being burnt by their fire; in between hung the infamous dragon skulls. The first ones were rather small, but as they advanced they grew massively large.
Melantha focused her attention on the Iron Throne then, where king Aerys sat quietly, the largest of the dragon's skulls hanging above. The throne itself was massive, resting at the top of stairs surrounded by melted swords. The pointy ends of numerous swords stuck out in all directions, surrounding king Aerys, who looked rather small in there. With a quirk of her eyebrow, she noticed that his feet didn't even touch the ground.
Ser Oswell came to a stop, bowed, and climbed the steps until he reached the Queen.
Lord Rickard bowed, while Melantha and Lyanna performed a courtesy, the eldest looking more fluid and elegant than the younger in her movements.
"Bow your head." She whispered to Lyanna, who was quick to oblige.
They remained in their position for a few moments, until a weak voice was heard.
"Rise already."
Making sure her posture was perfect, Melantha looked up at king Aerys, her hands clasped together over her belly.
"Your Grace, Winterfell is yours." Lord Rickard began with the typical fealty words. "House Stark is honored to serve you in any way we can, and we are overjoyed by this impending union between our children." He looked back and extended a hand which Melantha took, stepping forward as he presented her to the royal family. "My daughter, the Lady Melantha of House Stark."
Ever since the feast when the betrothal had been announced, Melantha had deluded herself into thinking that it was still far enough away, that she could enjoy her freedom and say goodbye to it properly before resigning herself to the life of a broodmare. Now, standing at the foot of the Iron Throne, with the king and the rest of the royal family looking down at them, she found it quite hard to breathe.
She began to sweat, and to feel lightheaded. Her body tensed, urging her to run but she forced herself to stay but, and she forced herself to look up at the king.
She was from the north. She was a wolf. Wolves didn't cower before anyone, least of all dragon skeletons.
"Run, run, run, run, run"
King Aerys opened his mouth.
"Overjoyed, uh? I can imagine you'd be; having your snow loving, backwater house joining ours,"he sighed "but I fear my son was quite adamant in a northern alliance. I suppose that a…Lady of a great house is a better option than one from a minor house." He leaned forward on his seat. "Gods, girl. Couldn't you find some soap on the road?" He began to cackle, as if he had just said the funniest thing, and the nobles joined in, some more honest than others in their support and amusement, but all sounding equally nervous.
Melantha's cheeks turned red and she averted her eyes for just one moment.
The king hissed and she noticed how he now nursed his forearm, which began to bleed.
She opened her mouth to reply to his comment, but then a young man spoke before she could.
"Father, perhaps you should send for the maester. I can take it from here." He was soft spoken, yet confident enough that the king only rolled his eyes before he stood up from the throne.
He gave the Starks one final look before being led away by a Kingsuard, another old man dressed in gray and sporting a great deal of interlocked chains around his chest following behind.
Melantha raised an eyebrow. The Grand Maester didn't seem to have more chain links than Maester Luwin back at Winterfell.
She turned her attention back to the young man and tilted her head, examining him.
Prince Rhaegar was very tall, and he had the body of a warrior as well as the elegance of a swan. His hair was silver, typically Targaryen, and even though he was too far away to tell, Melantha was sure his eyes were also the common, purple color his family was known for. His features were well defined; he was definitely handsome, and as he smiled at her family, she could begin to understand why so many people spoke with such tenderness of him. His smile was polite, yet warm and sincere.
He began to descend the steps slowly, a Kingsguard closely behind.
He addressed the court first.
"I understand my father can have a knack for harmless jest sometimes, and I am sure none of you meant any offense to House Stark and will make them and their party feel welcome here."
Melantha wanted to turn and see what the silent response was like, but she fought the urge. In any case, if the prince's facial expression was any indication, he was satisfied enough.
He came to a stop before her and his smile changed, becoming gentle, yet slightly detached.
As she had suspected, his eyes were purple. Melantha had known of Targaryen eyes, but she had never seen anyone with such coloring, and it made her wonder what made them so unique, and also if it could be studied somehow.
Melantha curtsied before him.
"Your Grace."
"Please, raise my lady."
Melantha blinked at the ground before standing, realizing that that was the voice of her future husband, and it was quite a nice voice.
Prince Rhaegar took one of her hands in his and placed a kiss upon her knuckles.
If his lips felt the touch of the small scar there, he gave no indication.
"I hear we are to be married soon." He commented cordially.
Melantha wasn't sure what to expect from meeting him for the first time; she hadn't been sure if he'd speak to her at all, but that was certainly not what she anticipated him saying.
The man had every single eligible lady of the Seven Kingdoms and beyond to choose from, yet allegedly, he had been insistent on her, a young woman of a secluded, cold place. She had expected at least a tiny clue as to why he had chosen her.
She forced herself to mask her disappointment and smile.
"I hear the same."
His smile widened and he let go of her cold hand, motioning for the Kingsguard to approach.
"Please, Ser Arthur."
Arthur Dayne approached the couple with a small box in hand and opened it.
Prince Rhaegar took out a necklace.
The chain was long and dark, and Melantha had the suspicion it was either valyrian steel or a substitute. She had seen such metal before, in her family's great sword. From the end of the chain hung a black dragon with a diamond eye, intertwined with a silver wolf and an amethyst eye.
Prince Rhaegar presented the gift to her, and Melantha took a moment or two to admire it. Black and silver were the colors of their houses, but the eyes were reversed, symbolizing the mixture of their houses. The dragon curving around the wolf and the wolf curving around the dragon formed a circle, binding them together forever, protecting each other. Despite her feelings on her marriage, Melantha smiled at the present, entranced by its simple beauty and message.
"Thank you, Your Grace. It's quite lovely."
The prince seemed pleased enough by this.
"Could I place it around your neck?"
Melantha nodded and turned, facing the court as she made her greasy hair aside.
She kept her eyes ahead as she felt the prince stepping behind her and swiftly putting the necklace around her neck, his fingers warm and calloused against her soft neck. The cold metal laid now proudly on her chest.
She briefly eyed it before turning once more to the prince, who offered her his hand. When she took it, he gently guided her to his side, where he held their hands for the court to see.
"This is a new era for House Targaryen, a rebirth. Great perils may lay ahead of us," Lyanna made a funny face at that, and Melantha stifled a snort as their father subtly pinched her arm. "but past all that there is a new dawn for the house of the dragon, and every other house in Westeros and beyond."
A/N: Hiii! Just wanted to take a moment to thank everyone for the support the story is getting! I really appreciate it
I hope everyone has a lovely weekend and survives episode 9 of hotd (if you're watching it)