Chapter 92: Grand Finale
Myrcella had to fight to keep herself from pacing. She'd been feeling like this ever since Robb had sent word that he had won. She wanted him here in front of her, so that she could hug him, kiss him, do anything just to make sure he was real. She had ordered the entire court out to meet him. They were currently standing in the grand entrance way of the Red Keep-something that King Jaehaerys had built during his long reign-and she was getting impatient.
She knew Robb needed to make an entrance, that the people needed to see him. But she was getting impatient. He was her husband and had been her husband first before they'd become King and Queen. But then she supposed that given what he'd done-or what the stories said he'd done-that it made sense for him to be taking this long.
After Varys' attempt, Myrcella had decided to go on a progress of the city, and she had been greeted as if she was the Mother come again. People had thrown themselves to the ground at her feet, others had prostrated themselves before her. Even the High Septon had done so. It was quite strange, but she found she quite liked it. Varys body had been burned, and his head was mounted on a spike on Traitor's Walk. The High Septon had given a very public speech condemning the eunuch and his kind.
"They're here, Your Grace." Margaery whispered to her. Myrcella blinked and looked up. Sure enough, at the head of the party was her husband. Dressed in blue and gold, his crown atop his head, Greywind at his side.
In that moment, she felt, not as the sixteen-year-old Queen that she was, but as a young girl who had just laid eyes on the love of her life. She straightened out and kept her poise as Robb stopped his horse in front of her.
Almost at once, everyone threw themselves to the ground and prostrated themselves before her husband. But Robb only had eyes for her, and after a second of adjustment, she only focused on him. He dismounted and embraced her. Crushed to his chest she whispered. "I'm so glad that you're safe."
Robb chuckled into her hair. "And I you."
They pulled apart and looked into one another's eyes for the longest time. Myrcella felt as if she could drown in his blue eyes-had they become shade darker? Eventually, Robb spoke.
"My lady, my love, my wife, I thank you for holding King's Landing in my absence. I thank you for handling the affairs of government, and I thank you for dealing with the traitor Varys. His crime is a stain that has been removed, and now we might look forward to the world safe in the knowledge that he is dead."
Myrcella kept her expression blank, but inside she was smiling. To think that at the beginning of all of this, Robb would have struggled to get these words out. She knew her part in this. "My lord, my love, my husband, I thank you for your kind words, and say that none of this would have meant anything had you not handled the great threat that we faced. Daenerys Targaryen is dead because of you, her dragons are dead, because of you." She noticed then that the three dragons' heads were mounted on spears being carried by Olyvar and Perwyn Frey and Lancel. Daenerys had tried to attack Robb after her dragon had been killed and Jaime had dispatched her to the Stranger. That was what Robb had written in his letter.
"It is because of you that the great host that the enemy had marshalled was destroyed. That they are now leaving our shores." The Dornish had bent the knee to Robb and accepted his punishment. Myrcella knew that if she looked back far enough, she would see Quentyn Martell being led in chains. The sellsword companies had been told they could leave without pay or be slain one by one. None of the sellsword captains had dared to stand against the man who had slain a dragon.
"Because of you, our Kingdom can now rest in peace." She finished.
The exchange completed, Robb pulled her to him and kissed her brow. She pulled back and then kissed him full on the lips. That brought a cheer from the gathered courtiers, who were all still lying on the ground.
Robb gestured for them to rise, then he took her arm in his and they walked into the keep. As they walked, Myrcella asked him. "Did you actually kill a dragon?" She wasn't sure whether that was some tall story or not. He hadn't mentioned that in his letter after all, but Lancel who had come to tell her of the victory had mentioned it.
The nonchalant way he answered told her the truth. "Not one, two. It would have been three, if not for the bolts."
Myrcella laughed and leaned up to kiss his cheek. "I love you." She said then.
"And I you." He replied.
"Their Graces King Robb and Queen Myrcella." The herald announced.
Ser Harry and Ser Arys opened the doors for them. Robb linked his arm with Myrcella's and together they entered the throne room. Almost immediately the entire court fell to the floor their heads touch the ground. It was a strange sight, one that had started almost immediately after the slaughter of the Dothraki. It was not one he was going to complain about. But still it was strange.
Together, he and Myrcella walked up the steps before sitting on their respective thrones. Robb placed his hands on the barbed arms of the throne, nothing pricked him. Nothing would prick him. Not now he had defeated the fire and slaughtered the last of the dragons.
He looked at Lord Tywin and the man-who was the only one Robb had granted permission not to prostrate before them-called out. "Rise."
As one the court rose. They all stared at him with rapt attention. He knew they wanted to know what decisions he had made. News had come in the day before, whilst they had been feasting, that Euron Greyjoy and his fleet had been destroyed. Euron was somewhere at the bottom of the Arbor. Unfortunately, Lord Redwyne had died during the fighting as well, though his sons had showed their mettle.
"It is our great pleasure to state that Euron Greyjoy, the pirate of the seas was slain and that his fleet was destroyed by the Redwyne fleet. Lord Redwyne gave his life to ensuring Greyjoy was slain. Therefore, we honour him and his sacrifice. We also are delighted to confirm his eldest son Ser Horas as Lord of the Arbor. Lord Horas has also agreed to make the Redwyne fleet a part of the Royal Fleet. Meaning that we now have more than enough ships to protect all coast in Westeros." Robb announced.
That brought some murmuring, though Robb had agreed with Lord Paxter long ago that this would happen. No noble should have a fleet that was not completely subject to the Crown.
"Furthermore, as a result of the treachery of House Greyjoy and their subsequent extinction, we have decided that there shall be no Lord Paramount of the Iron Islands. Instead, they shall owe their fealty directly to the Crown." Robb continued. Pyke had been submerged into the sea by Ser Wendel and the Great Merman, but there were other islands left and other Ironborn. They would not rebel, however. "Furthermore, due to their continued demands for raiding and reaving, the Ironborn are prohibited from building ships for a six-year period. If at the end of this period they have shown that they can act in good faith, we may relent and allow them to build up their ships once more. For now, they are allowed only five ships per island. And for every ship they will have to pay a three-gold dragon tax."
That drew even more murmurs, but nobody protested the decision. Lord Harlaw had agreed to the measure and had managed to convince the other Ironborn to agree as well. Having a reputation for having killed two dragons single-handedly helped.
"Now, we turn to another pressing matter. Dorne." Robb said, noticing how the Dornishmen and women who had been here since their arrival with Oberyn Martell, shifted from side to side.
"Dorne was a realm that remained distinct from the rest of Westeros, both before and after the Conquest. A separatism that was enforced by the Martells." Robb said, looking around the room, he saw Quentyn Martell standing in a corner. The man had a bloodied eye-a result of fighting Jon-and bruises on his face. "That ends today." That drew a loud murmur.
"House Martell are no longer entitled to their status as Princes of Dorne, instead they shall be a house like any other. Dorne shall owe its allegiance directly to the throne. Furthermore, Quentyn Martell shall be our guest for his father's good behaviour. As for Dornish Law, it is time that Dorne fully join the Kingdoms. Those houses who have a lady as their head and a lady as their heir shall keep that custom. But, for all other houses, the concept of the firstborn son inheriting shall stand. And for those former houses mentioned, when their heir has become Lady, their firstborn son shall be the heir."
Surprisingly, none of the ruling ladies seemed to object. Instead, it was Quentyn Martell who did. The man stepped forward and opened his mouth to say something. But before he could, Robb simply pointed to the dragon heads that had been placed in front of the throne. Martell shut his mouth fairly quickly after that.
"This is our will, and our command." Robb said clearly and concisely.
"Long Live The King and Queen!" someone said then.
"Glory to The Father and the Mother!" Some else said.
Robb rose and helped Myrcella down the steps of the throne, the people prostrated themselves before them, and as they turned to leave, Robb stopped and looked at the scene before him. A sense of satisfaction ran through him.
Myrcella knelt before the idols of the Seven. Robb did the same. The High Septon spoke into the silence.
"Holy Father, we ask that you bless our King and Queen with your wisdom and guidance. Let them embody the values that you stand for." A little water was splashed onto them.
"Holy Mother, we ask that you bless our King and Queen with your kindness and your empathy. Let them know the struggles of their people and work every day to improve their lot." Another bit of water was splashed on them.
"Holy Warrior, you have already given our King and Queen such strength to overcome those who would overturn what they are trying to do. Who would break their courage. We ask that you grant them the courage to continue on this path that has been set for them by you all."
"Holy Smith, we ask that you continue to give our King and Queen the strength needed to bring the realm from the darkness to the light. As the snow falls and the Age of Dawn comes, we ask that you lead them toward that dawn with full hearts."
"Holy Maiden, we ask that you keep our Prince and Princess safe and innocent. So that as our King and Queen go about their holy duty, they may know they are protected and loved."
Myrcella's knees were starting to ache from kneeling on the cold floor, but she ignored the pain and focused on what the High Septon was saying.
"Holy Crone, guide our King and Queen with guidance and wisdom to always know what to do when the darkness presents itself. Make it so that there is no challenge too great for them to face. No challenge that they cannot overcome."
"Holy Stranger, guide the kingdom to the King and Queen. Let us not experience more turmoil so that those who feel they are outcast find a home in our King and Queen."
"Amen."
"Amen."
"Bring the holy oil." The High Septon commanded.
Some septon or septa rushed through and emerged a short time later with the bowl of oil, supposedly created by the Father himself. The High Septon dabbed his fingers into the bowl and first marked the seven-pointed star on Robb's forehead, saying as he did so. "With this star, I mark you as the Father, the Warrior, the Smith and the Stranger. The holiest of the holy, deigned to lead us to a glorious age."
The High Septon kissed Robb's cheeks and then bowed once before moving to her.
He dipped his finger in the bowl and marked the seven-pointed star on her forehead also. His fingers were cold.
"With this star, I mark you as the Mother, the Maiden, the Crone and the Stranger. The holiest of the holy, deigned to lead us to a glorious age."
The High Septon kissed her hand before stepping back.
"Westeros, I present to you the Seven Made One. The Seven in the Flesh. Our King and Queen."
"May They Live Forever!" came the cry from those who were gathered with them in the Sept of Baelor.
Myrcella shared a look with Robb then, the final moment of their victory was about to come.
Robb helped Myrcella up and walked with her to the robing area. Who had decided to call it that, he didn't know, but at the same time, it was somewhat appropriate, given what they were going to get into.
He looked the other way as his wife's ladies helped her out of white dress. He knew what she would be getting into. A golden shirt with a blue skirt, with a golden cloak-made from the skin of one of the dragons that had died during the fighting.
It had taken a week for it to be made. Supposedly it had been a painstaking effort, but Robb had seen the finished product, and he knew that the whole effort had been worth it. Myrcella would look simply radiant in the outfit.
He didn't turn around yet, for he also needed to get changed. Olyvar, Perwyn, Renly and Daryn, helped him out of his shirt and his trousers. They helped him into the new pair of trousers which were green and bronze, reflective of the other dragon that had died. They were quite a snug fit. Which was good, the previous iteration had been damned uncomfortable.
He wore a blue shirt, something that had become second nature to him. Though this one glittered with sapphires, just as Myrcella's own shirt would glitter with rubies. He bent his head to allow Renly to put a golden necklace over his head. This necklace had come from Andalos originally and was said to be the necklace of Hugor of the Hill. Myrcella would wear a necklace that had belonged to Hugor's wife.
The final part of this attire was the cloak. His was marked with darkness, bronze and gold, a combination of the three dragons that had died. It weighed quite a lot, which made sense given how big the dragons were when they died. Once it had been fastened on, he turned and looked at his wife.
His breath caught in his throat. She looked simply divine.
"You look good." Myrcella whispered to him.
Like a young boy he blushed at the compliment. "As do you." He leaned forward a tad and whispered in her ear. "I can't wait to get you out of all of that and into bed."
Myrcella giggled and swatted his arm. He grinned back at her.
"Your Grace, the crowns." Ser Jaime said. Robb turned and saw that two page boys were carrying cushions on which sat the two new crowns that Robb had ordered made.
Robb smiled at the boys who bowed their heads. He picked up the first crown. This one was bronze, green and gold, the colours Myrcella loved. It was a simple band, with a bronze eye at its centre. He turned and placed it on Myrcella's head. She smiled and moved to the second cushion and picked up the second crown. This one was his.
It was dark as night, with gold and bronze edges, with seven swords protruding from it, they were dark as night as well. In its centre was a dark eye, taken from the dragon that the woman had been riding. He bent his neck and allowed Myrcella to place the crown atop his head.
When that was done, he looked at her and smiled. "Shall we?" He asked, extending his arm.
"Let's." Myrcella replied, linking their arms together.
Together they walked forward, toward the great doors which were opened by Ser Jaime and Jon. They stepped out onto the steps of the Great Sept and were greeted by a huge roar. There were people gathered for as far as the eye could see and then some. They moved forward slightly, pages carrying their cloaks, until they were on the top step.
With the sun blaring out, the snow having melted, Robb watched as the gathered people all fell to the ground, their heads bowed. Robb looked at Myrcella, she smiled at him, he smiled back.
This was right. This was perfect.
This was their Empire of the Dawn.