So, here's a slightly different chapter. I wanted to give a broad King's Landing scope, and the wedding was just… well, boring. So, let's get to this quite boring affair of a wedding, and check in on all the scheming…
This is the longest chapter yet, so… enjoy.
Also, I've decided to go to my original plan of not going to Essos for this first section of the story. There's a pretty good thematic reason as to why.
Ooh, and can I get more Northern Lords? A Lord Bolton would be pretty great… Like, as soon as I get him, I can do a lot more with the Boltons.
Lyra Lannister –King's Landing, The Red Keep
Haylise looked beautiful. I wasn't particularly inclined towards dresses, but Haylise had a way about her of making anything beautiful. A beautiful white gown, with a pair of golden antlers interwoven around the left of her waist. On the right, was the golden tail of a dragon. Haylise had been very particular in designing her own bridal gown, and now I could see why. I continued to tie her hair back.
"Do you think he'll like it?" Haylise asked as I twisted one of her plaits.
"I think you know he will." I smiled – she thought I hadn't noticed, but her hair was an inky black replication of Visenya's hair the other day. I fastened the gold chains in her hair, keeping it beautiful and ornate and as delicate as her face.
"I know you haven't asked yet," Haylise sipped from her cup, "but I'll be residing in Dragonstone soon. And that means I may have new handmaidens." Truth be told, I wasn't worried. I had known Haylise long enough to think of her as a younger sister. And she wouldn't be able to send me away – I'd always look after her.
"I'm sure they'll serve you well." I grinned, humouring her.
"Who knows? Maybe you'll find your own husband tonight."
"Oh yes," I rolled my eyes, "how I long to swaddle a brat…" I knew that my father would try to betroth me to another soon enough. But marrying a Lord, bearing his children and being the Lady of a keep… I'd sooner choose the life of the Silent Sisters. "I suppose marrying Ryleigh wouldn't be so bad…" I mused. Ryleigh was nothing like his sister – nothing like any Baratheon, really. He was gentle and kind-hearted, free of any boasting and bragging. He wasn't particularly charming or skilful, but he'd make a good husband to the right woman. Though, he was a great deal younger than I. Then again, girls yet to become women had been made brides by milk-brothers of their grandfathers.
"Ryleigh has already made a match," Haylise informed me, "father told me he's to wed Evalyn Stark."
"A Stark?" I laughed. "I fear she won't fit in well at Storm's End…"
"How so?"
"Your handmaidens made be able to weather dreadful storms, but when I tell one story of a woman fucked in the ass…"
"Lyra!" Haylise gently slapped me on the arm, though I saw the corner of her lip turn up in a smile. She could try to deny it, but she knew I was right; most women acted far too delicately.
"This is what I mean. At least a Northerner will be able to say the word 'cock' without giggling…" Haylise chuckled again. "Who else is there… I could marry the other Stark. The brother?"
Haylise shook her head, "I wouldn't advise it."
"What's his name again?"
"Lord Markas."
"That's it," I nodded, "I reckon Northern men know how treat a woman properly. Not like most of these perfumed ponces…" I realised that Haylise had fallen silent. "Haylise?" I rested a hand on her shoulder, breaking her out of her daze.
"I'm sorry…" Haylise shook her head, "I just realised, I'm to be a married woman."
"And a princess." I reminded her. "I'll have to call you 'Your Grace'."
"Viserys isn't next in line." Haylise pointed out.
"Come," I held out a hand, and let her stand in front of me, "let's see if we can ensure my spinsterhood." Haylise grinned, and took my hand.
Aeron Targaryen – King's Landing, The Red Keep
The ceremony had been a dull affair. Yes, yes, Haylise Baratheon entered the hall and all fell silent, many an eye had a tear – most of the crying came from all the ladies weeping over beautiful, bold Viserys taking a wife. The High Septon spouted his nonsense about Gods binding Viserys and Haylise together, and the two kissed, sparking a roar of applause from all of us. I clapped my hands, but I was too focused on Princess Laena. Or, rather, the woman beside her – Ashriel.
If Rylon Baratheon tried to make me marry someone I didn't want to, I'd remove his head. I was a Dragon. I didn't care what Laena or Vysella or anyone else said – I was of the House Targaryen.
I had been sitting at my place on the table (which was in front of Viserys and Haylise) for two cups of wine before I was approached.
"Prince Aeron," Oroville Tyrell, the old man bowed his, "enjoying yourself?"
"Lord Tyrell," I bowed my head in return, "I always love a party."
"I find it all quite tiresome, to be honest…" Oroville grabbed a serving girl's arm, and pointed at his empty cup, "meaning no offense, Your Grace."
"None taken," I shook my head, "though I trust you'll summon some more enthusiasm for the next one." I smiled.
"You're taking to marriage better than most men." Oroville grumbled, leaning back in his chair, "I cursed the Seven day and night for a week."
"I've heard your daughter is a delightful young woman," I explained, "she'll do well in court." My eyes drifted towards the two women that sat together on another table. Beside Ashriel, was clearly her sister. Ashriel was pretty in a plain way, but Delyth was the true beauty. Just like Ashriel, but infinitely more striking. While Ashriel wore a high-collared dress in the fashion of Laena, Delyth dressed more like Haylise the Harlot. A single piece of green fabric fell from her neck, and broke into two strips, which covered her bust, and wrapped back around to from a bow between her shoulderblades. Her midriff was exposed, showing a soft, flat stomach of glowing skin. That is, until the eye drifted below the navel, where a long dress that hung from her waist. Delyth's eyes found mine, and I saw her mouth widen into a smile, as her eyes glinted up at me.
"Yes, well, she's long wanted to be at court." Oroville grumbled. "I doubt the Gods themselves could wrest her away from this match. She's set on being a princess."
"As are many other women…" I drifted my eyes across the daughters of Velaryon, Cargyll and other trivial lords. "What are you plans for Ashriel?"
"Ashriel?" Oroville thumbed his chin, "I suppose she will remain Princess Laena's handmaid until I make her a good match."
"Might I inquire as to who your mind is set on?"
"Perhaps Addam Lannister…" Oroville pointed with his goblet to the golden-haired man that had grown bored of the Lady beside him, and had instead pulled the serving girl onto his lap, one hand pulling up her dress as he nuzzled into her neck.
"What is he… eleventh in line?" I snorted. "Aiming a bit low aren't you?"
Oroville raised an eyebrow, "True… though I expect the standards may rise when Delyth is made a Princess."
"I expect so too." I nodded. "I suppose I should introduce myself to her…" I stood up from my table and bowed my head to Oroville.
Haylise Baratheon – King's Landing, The Red Keep
It felt good – everyone looking at me without any snickers or jibes. Yes, I never cared when they made their jokes regardless, but it was nice to know no-one was doing that here. Instead, everyone was just celebrating my marriage. I had entered into the greatest dynasty this world had ever known.
"So," Viserys leaned over to me, "is everything to your liking?"
"It is indeed, Your Grace."
"Viserys." He said, waving a hand. "I've never particularly liked the titles. Besides," he took a deep breath, "I'm your husband now. There's no need for such formalities."
"I'm glad you feel that way, Viserys." I smiled. "I've heard that we are to travel to Dragonstone."
"Yes, eventually." Viserys nodded. "I expect it will be sometime after Aeron's marriage." His eyes drifted over to his half-brother, who sat next to a pair of Tyrell sisters.
"You sound positively excited for that day." I noticed. Viserys let out a small chuckle.
"Forgive me. The subtleties of court are somewhat lost on me."
"Subtleties as in lying?"
"I suppose if we were to talk openly, yes." He sipped his cup of wine. But, as he did so, I noticed his eyes constantly flicker back to his brother, and one of the girls turned back to face us. I recognized her – Princess Laena's handmaid.
"I suppose one must grow accustomed to lying in King's Landing…" I feigned a smile, examining the girl. She wasn't as womanly as myself. No finery, no great beauty – I doubt she could please a man as well as I was rumoured to. But, she seemed to hold the affection of Viserys. My husband. My Dragon.
"Aeron's… different." Viserys said eventually. "I'll look in his eyes, and it's like there's a storm raging inside of them. And he's never let it slip out. Not once."
"Let what slip out?"
"Draegor used to be much more arrogant. He was never spiteful… but he didn't think too much about how other people felt. Mother never liked Aeron for… obvious reasons, but Laena has long hated him. And she's not the type to do anything quietly."
I nodded, looking to see Laena's dark-haired handmaiden smile at Viserys. "I shall return in a moment. Allow me to just greet the Princess as a sister." I curtsied as Viserys stood up and bowed his head, and I walked down to Laena, embracing her with a hug.
"Sister!" I called, "I look forward to all the time we shall spend together!"
"Yes, quite." Laena tried to hide it, but I could see her wrinkle her nose. I turned towards her handmaiden – up close, I could see the golden hoops and rings covering her ears. I need no introduction – we'd all heard of Ashriel Tyrell, who gilded her ears in lieu of marrying an elderly Lord.
"Laena," Visenya appeared beside her sister, "Ser Richard is refusing to show me his sword!" She wrapped an arm around the Kingsguard's neck, spilling a bit of wine onto his golden pauldron. "I am your princess," She purred in Ser Richard's ear, "and I command you to show me the sword of the Rising Star."
"When you say his sword…" Laena raised an eyebrow, and Visenya only smiled, causing Ser Richard to turn a deep shade of violet. Laena was even worse, spluttering and looking around to distract herself. Visenya chuckled and removed her arm from Ser Richard.
"Calm yourself Laena… I wouldn't embarrass our newest sister like that." Visenya approached me, and kissed me on the cheek. "Welcome to the fold, Princess."
As we all began to part, I reached out, gently grabbing Ashriel's arm. "I know you, don't I?" I asked, furrowing my brow as if I had to remember.
"I am a Lady in service of Princess Laena…"
"Tyrell, yes?"
"Yes. Ashriel, My Lady-"
"Your Grace." I corrected her. "I am a princess, now, yes?"
Ashriel's face remained unmoving like a stone until she curtsied. "Yes, Your Grace. Apologies, Your Grace." I tried to find what it was – maybe those large golden eyes? Her lithe figure? Perhaps Viserys liked little girls more than women – there were worse men around. Was she always so meek? Even in bed? "Forgive me, Your Grace, but the Princess Laena-"
"You love him, don't you?" I watched her face immediately turn to stone once more, and I knew I was right. She was too focused on not reacting, she didn't feign shock or surprise. "I don't blame you. I suppose most girls are in love with him. How could you not fall in love with a man like that?" I laughed, looking back at him, watching him hug my father and take a cup of wine. "But if anything ever happened between you, it will never happen again. He's mine."
"Congratulations, Your Grace." Ashriel said, unsmiling. "May the Seven bless your union and any children you may have."
"Ask them to bless your own union." I informed her. "Maybe there's a gangly fourth-born with gilded ears somewhere close by." I put on a smile before walking back to my wedding table, passing the Lady Delyth, who moved to squeal excitedly to her sister.
Aeron Targaryen – King's Landing, the Red Keep
I watched Delyth skip to her sister, making no efforts to hide her excitement. It was to be expected – the poor girl wanted to be a princess so desperately, she could barely believe her luck. She was clearly the sort of woman that was prone to flights of fancy, but she would do me well as a bride. Better than the other Tyrell daughter, who still called me 'bastard'. I moved towards Draegor's table, sitting down next to him.
"What a wonderful affair…" I murmured, "do you suppose mine will be as expensive?" It was only then that I remembered Draegor's… affliction. "Sorry… I didn't mean to-"
"It's fine." Draegor sighed, "It's the little comments that you don't pay attention to. Those are the ones that I hate the most."
"Apologies." I bowed my head, and then realised how stupid it was to be doing so.
"How does our new sister look?"
"Haylise is a beauty, Draegor." I informed him. "Waves of Baratheon-black hair like a waterfall, with chains of gold like silk woven into her hair like a web-"
"Aeron Targaryen: the Bastard of the Red Keep, and Dragon poet." Draegor laughed – a sound I hadn't heard for too long. "I'm pleased for Viserys."
"It's alright to be jealous, Draegor."
"I'm not jealous."
"Not very knightly to lie." I noticed Draegor's hand fumbling around for his wine, and eventually grabbed it for him, placing it in his shaking hand. "He's a young man, loved by his people with a beautiful young wife, and you're marrying Laena." Draegor grinned as I spat her name out. "You've both taken a sword to the eye, but Viserys yet still holds his sight. Of course you're jealous."
"You love this, don't you Aeron?" Draegor drank from his cup of wine, "Playing the Game."
"You don't?"
"I do not play the Game, Aeron."
"The Great Game…" I smiled, "we're all playing the Game, Draegor. Most of you just don't realise it yet." I looked over to the smiling Bold Viserys, then to the frowning Blind Draegor. "You're next-in-line. You may not have your sight, but you have your birthright. Now you can learn to rule, and stop with all your silliness about knights."
"A lot of responsibility…" Draegor nodded.
"Not without possibility. You could shape the realm to be anything you wish it to be."
"Is that a touch of envy I hear, Aeron?" Draegor asked.
"We were raised in King's Landing; isn't it only natural to want power? Any true Targaryen would…"
"And how long have you been a true Targaryen, Aeron?"
I hesitated before sipping my wine, caught off-guard by this comment. "Long enough, brother." I placed my goblet back on the table. "Do you think I would ever by accepted?"
"As a King?"
"As a Targaryen."
"By the people?"
"By everyone." Draegor hung his head as he debated my question. He didn't need to say any more – I knew what this meant. "After all these years, you still refuse to call me brother…"
"Aeron, this is not the time-"
I stood up, taking his goblet of wine and leaning down so only he could hear me, "Remember that it was you who did this to me." I snarled, and turned away to leave.
Haylise Baratheon – King's Landing, The Red Keep
I sat at my wedding table, watching Viserys bow and exchange a cup of wine with Lord Addam Lannister. Too much of a peacock for myself, and I had a sorry history with rowdy young men. So, I elected to remain at my table and drink the finest Arbor gold.
To my right, sat a great beauty indeed: sharp features and pale skin, with that Targaryen silver hair winding down to her waist. She was wrapped in rubies and scarlet scales over her dress, and those beautiful violet eyes danced around the room. Vysella was truly a beauty. And I was happy that Viserys took after her instead of his father. In more than just looks.
"I suppose it is quite strange for you," Vysella smiled, "being surrounded by a great many people you don't know. It can be quite intimidating, I know."
"I'm not intimidated, Your Grace-"
"Please, I won't have a daughter call me such a title." She smiled. "Your mother died quite recently, no?"
"Yes, Your Gr- mother," I caught myself, "three years ago."
"Death rarely comes at an expected time." Vysella informed me. "Neither does marriage I suppose." She leant over, and wrapped my black hair around one of her pale fingers, "I wonder if my grandchildren will have your beautiful black hair…"
"I- I don't know, Your- mother." I smiled, honestly flattered that such a beauty and a legend was paying me compliments and asking me to call her 'mother'.
"I suppose we will find out soon enough." She sipped her cup of wine again.
I paused before responding. The question had long been on my mind. The topic of children. While bearing a Targaryen babe was the highest honour a woman in my position could achieve, I didn't feel too confident about the rumours regarding Targaryen madness. "How soon is soon?"
"Well, I expect you shall make your attempts tonight." Vysella sighed into her cup. "Don't worry, little deer. Being a mother is a life of happiness, but also one of misery. You see, you can't have one without the other. You will have sons and daughters. You will watch them smile when they open their eyes, and you will weep when they close them forever." There was something about the way she spoke – the way her eyes glistened with tears of an honest woman. It was like she wasn't here with me; no, she was somewhere else.
"Your Grace?" I placed a hand on hers, "Mother?"
"Some decades ago, I had a baby boy. He would have been Laena's elder brother. Rhaegon agreed he should be born on Dragonstone, where he would belong. I can still see him now: his little hands clasping for mine, those big beautiful eyes…"
"He passed on?"
Vysella nodded, "You never stop being a mother, you know. Even when they're gone."
Delyth Tyrell – King's Landing, The Red Keep
Ashriel was quieter than she had ever been before. I mean, she usually had her head shoved into her stupid big books, but she looked like she wasn't even interested! Always thinking about herself, as usual!
"Ash! You aren't even listening!"
"What?" She groaned.
"Aeron's asked me to take the air with him!" I couldn't contain myself. "He's quite striking, isn't he? That Targaryen hair-"
"He isn't a real Targaryen, Delyth." Ashriel stated, "He's natural-born, remember?"
"He is not!" I stamped my foot down. "You'd be calling the King a liar!" Ashriel rolled her eyes, but I decided not to take this to heart. Father said Ashriel must be jealous of me, so it was up to me to be the more mature one. "Do you think our children will have the silver hair as well?"
"I don't know…" Ashriel sighed.
"What about eyes? And what about the dragons? Will our children get to ride dragons also?"
"I suppose?"
"Ash! It's like you don't even care-" Before I could finish speaking, I saw him approach. Gods, he was a far better match than Dalton Tarly or Holdyn Redwyne. He was like Aegon re-born, with his rubies and silks. "Wish me luck!" I couldn't stop myself squealing as I came closer to Aeron.
"My Lady." He bowed his head.
"Your Grace." I curtsied, before wrapping my arm around his.
"I trust you are enjoying the celebrations."
"Of course, Your Grace," I kept my voice level, "I wonder if our wedding will be like this."
"Would you like it to be?"
"I'd prefer some more honeycomb…" I tried to think about what else was wrong with this wedding, "and… I should like a bigger band. And a different dress for the feast, after the ceremony of course-"
"Whatever you want, My Lady, you shall receive." Aeron gave a smile of stunning white teeth, and clasped my hands with his own. "I trust you know I shall try to make you happy."
"Of course, Your Grace." I could feel my cheeks burning red.
"And, if you are to be my wife, I must trust you in all matters." He cupped my hand – his skin was so smooth and un-calloused. Like a true ruler's. "Can I trust you Delyth?"
Lyra Lannister – King's Landing, The Red Keep
I hadn't seen Haylise so happy. She had been tolerating the laughs and jibes for years now. But, now no-one dared so a word against her. She was married to the youngest Prince, and also the most beloved.
At the corner of the room, I saw the adorable little Ryleigh. A head of Baratheon-black curls. He was scrawny for his age; no matter how long the tailors toiled, the clothes always hung off of him like he was a skeleton. He looked very little like his father, who was tall and domineering. Ryleigh was a sweetheart, with those cute little freckles and big blue eyes. His clothes were relatively simple for the brother of the bride – Only Ryleigh would take advantage of a wedding to wear what he wanted to.
"The best thing about this wedding," I sat down next to him, "is that they'll let you wear whatever you want."
"Lyra!" Ryleigh smiled, "I was hoping I'd see a familiar face."
"What about Haylise?"
Ryleigh looked over to his sister, who sat by the queen, sipping wine in deep conversation. "She's occupied."
"I hear you're to be equally occupied." I smiled. "A new mother, a new brother…"
"Oh, Evalyn Stark?" Ryleigh shrugged. "I don't know…"
"You don't know about what? She's a year less than you, from the North, daughter of Bennard and Margareth-"
"No, I know all that." Ryleigh squirmed in his chair, "I'm just not… sure."
"That's understandable. No doubt Evalyn feels the same way." Ryleigh smiled. I suppose it must have felt nice to know neither of them wanted this match. I looked over at the giggles to see my dim-witted, boyish cousin, Addam, with his arms around two serving girls. "Excuse me, Ryleigh, but I think Addam needs a word with his uncle…" I stood up, glancing around to see where my father was.
Viserys Targaryen – King's Landing, The Red Keep
I'd be lying if I said I wasn't enjoying myself. True, I wouldn't have picked Haylise to be my wife, but the celebrations at the feast where lively enough. Streaks of Targaryen scarlet and Baratheon gold ribbons flew through the air. We were both presented with gifts: Aeron had commissioned a tome of all the lords of Dragonstone. Laena had given me a tarp of our family (though Aeron was suspiciously absent). Draegor found his way to me, and presented me with a jewelled chalice that depicted my victory against the Ironborn. Visenya had presented us with our wedding pie, the size of a small horse. Haylise and I laughed as I unsheathed my blade and severed the top of the pie and watched the doves flitter out and scatter into the air.
As my eyes trailed after the doves, I saw Ashriel starting to walk away. I quickly made my excuses to Haylise and jogged across the gardens to Ashriel.
"Ashriel, I…" I paused, as Lords began to pass us, "I was wondering where you were going."
"I'm retiring to my quarters, Your Grace," she kept her red eyes fixed on the floor, "I'm tired."
"But… you haven't stayed for the pie. Or the-"
"I wish to leave before the bedding ceremony, if it pleases Your Grace."
I nodded. True, I hadn't thought of that. "Of course. You must be very tired."
"Your Grace?" Ashriel quickly wiped her eye with a finger, "When will you leave for Dragonstone?"
"I'm not too sure, Lady Ashriel." I wanted to wrap my arms around her, mount Moonfyre and just leave this all behind. I didn't want to stay here and be married to Haylise. I didn't want to wear golden chains for the rest of my life. "When my family commands me to."
"May the Seven bless your union, Your Grace." Ashriel's large, golden eyes flickered up to fix on my own. "I'm sure she loves you very much."
"I'm sure." I nodded, remembering each small freckle. Every glimmer of the gold on her ears. Every small, precious, insignificant detail.
And then she left.
"Come!" I heard Lord Rylon call, "Come, to the Bedding Ceremony!" The crowd cheered, and I knew that this was my duty. There was no escaping it. All I could do in that moment was be a good, faithful husband to Haylise. My wife.
Damn that chapter was long… I kept thinking 'Oh, I haven't really shown this character…' and wrote a little POV about them and it ended up at 4,000 words. I think I mentioned every character but Rhaegon, for obvious reasons. Please leave a review and let me know what you think!
ALSO, after this 'instalment', I'll get straight to work on the next one. I've created a community I'll post the stories in, so they'll be easy to find.
I need a Lord Bolton because next, we're going back to the Dreadfort! But, it seems Rickard has a new captor…