Author's Note: Displays of incestuous affection ahead.
At Dragonstone, a still bedridden Rhaenyra waited with great anticipation for the letter from King's Landing that would confirm the securement of her birthright. The morning after her husband, sons, and cousin had departed for the capital, the long awaited raven finally arrived at the castle rookery, and Maester Gerardys delivered the letter to the princess. With the maester, her twin stepdaughters, three younger sons, and former father-in-law present, Rhaenyra read the contents of the letter aloud for all of them to hear.
"My darling,
It is with great pleasure that I announce that the Iron Throne has been secured for you. Your half-brother, Aegon, gave up his crown without a fight and everyone has cheered me on as their new king consort and you as their queen. Alicent collapsed when she saw her son bend the knee. Her defeat has been quite satisfying. The Greens have broken up and several of them have already renounced their pledges to Aegon the Elder and now wish to swear oaths to you when you are crowned next month.
Alicent and the rest of her family have been placed under house arrest. Their imprisonment has been easy to maintain since none of them want to leave their rooms due to the humiliation that they feel. Only Otto is exempt so that he can, very reluctantly, perform his duties as Hand. Rhaenys and I have been handling the details for your coronation while Jace and Luke, and your father's coconspirators have been doing an excellent job in finding candidates for your new small council since most of the members from your father's council are still steadfastly loyal to your half-brother, and they have resigned from their posts. Thankfully we were able to find suitable replacements for them.
The only sad news that I have to share with you is that your father is due to be cremated soon and you will not be able to attend. I am sorry. Rest assured however, your father should be resting easier now in the heavens with your mother and brothers knowing that you are well on your way to becoming queen. I hope you and our unborn child are doing well. I send my best to you, our sons, Joffrey, Rhaena and Baela along with Corlys.
Sincerely your husband,
Daemon"
Rhaenyra wept as she read the letter. The thought of her father being with her beloved mother and two brothers in the afterlife made the princess, soon to be queen, very happy. Now all that had to be done was to wait for the child in her womb to be born. The month went by slowly. During that time, numerous ravens bearing letters discussing the details of the princess's coronation, the subsequent celebrations and feasting, along with ships bearing the finest dressmakers that Rhaenys had commissioned for her cousin visited Dragonstone.
The dressmakers showed Rhaenyra fabric samples and discussed the dress's appearance. The weight of the preparations for the coronation began to weigh on Rhaenyra, and Maester Gerardys suggested that she should let Corlys, who had been assisting his former daughter-in-law, shoulder the rest of her responsibilities but the princess refused.
"Gerardys, I am soon to be crowned Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. If I cannot work through this trial, how will the lords and smallfolk view me? I must persevere. And besides, this is my sixth pregnancy. My child will be fine."
Rhaenyra's words would soon be proven true. The eleventh day of the fourth moon was an unseasonably warm day and that afternoon, the queen and her retinue were enjoying the weather outside in Aegon's Garden rather than spend another day "lying-in".* Rhaenyra's water broke as both she and her ladies-in-waiting watched her sons and stepdaughters pick cranberries from the garden bog. Without a moment to lose, the queen's female companions carefully assisted her back to her bedchamber, and Maester Gerardys and the midwife were summoned.
Baela and Rhaena, Joffrey, Aegon, and Viserys waited outside their mother/stepmother's room. They were all looked after by both Lord Corlys Velaryon and Lady Elinda Massey, Rhaenyra's youngest and gentlest lady-in-waiting. Thankfully, the family would not have to wait too long for their newest relative to arrive. Less than half an hour after her water had broken, Rhaenyra gave birth to her sixth child. Its cries echoed throughout the halls of Dragonstone.
"It's a girl your grace! A healthy little girl…" Maester Gerardys said as he held the newborn princess in his hands. Rhaenyra, although tired, smiled broadly when she heard the news. After five sons, she finally had a daughter. Her prayers had been answered. Princess Visenya Targaryen had a hearty cry when she came into the world, but she calmed down as both Gerardys and the midwife gently cleaned the fluids of her mother's womb off of her tiny body.
As soon as Visenya was wrapped in swaddling clothes, the midwife handed the newborn princess to her excited mother. Rhaenyra gave her daughter a kiss on her soft forehead and she embraced her dearly. Visenya had fine silver hair that scintillated with gold in the sunlight, and lavender purple eyes, all pure Targaryen features. After the queen was dabbed dry of her sweat and propped up against a wall of pillows, the rest of the family was ushered in to see the newborn princess. Joffrey, Aegon, and Viserys were the first to see their baby sister.
All three boys admired the newborn Visenya, and the brothers each took turns holding her. Traditionally, a Targaryen brother and sister were to be wed to each other when the time came in order to preserve the Valyrian look into the next generation and so forth. Since Visenya had an older half-brother and two older full-blooded brothers that were much older than her, she was not to be wed to either of them. Rhaenyra did not want to worry about finding spouses for her other children just yet though. First she had to be crowned and then settle in officially as queen, and right now, she just wanted to cherish the first hours of her newborn daughter's life.
Twins Baela and Rhaena were in awe of their newest half-sibling. The two young ladies fawned over the baby and kept saying how pretty she was. The twins both thought of when it would be their time to become mothers; exerting themselves to the limit to bear the next generation of the royal family. The prospect of giving birth at such a young age was a terrifying aspect for both sisters, but they knew that they did not have a choice in the matter. That time was in the near future since Rhaenyra had arranged for the twins to marry her two oldest sons on New Years Eve that same year: Jacaerys to Baela and Lucerys to Rhaena.
After Princess Visenya's birth, Maester Gerardys put Rhaenyra on a weeklong bedrest to recover from the labor before she could be crowned. A raven was dispatched to King's Landing to inform Daemon about both his daughter's birth and his wife's seven days of recovery. The king consort greeted the news of his third born daughter's birth jovially, as did Rhaenys, Jacaerys and Lucerys. They all wanted to fly over to Dragonstone with their dragons to see her, however, their duties to ensure the coronation's success kept them bound to the Red Keep. They also had to make sure that the remaining Greens were not machinating sabotage or worse, assassination.
After the week had passed, Rhaenyra was finally well enough to be crowned. Early in the morning on the day of her coronation, Rhaenyra took a warm bath drawn by her handmaidens, had her skin anointed with her favorite lotus scented perfume from Lys, and her silver-gold hair braided. With the help of her maidservants, Rhaenyra was dressed into her gown. It was a resplendent sight to behold: the bodice was made of rich maroon velvet with intricate black Myrish lace that lined the center of the garment and it had six pearl buttons held in with gold bases to represent Rhaenyra being the sixth Targaryen ruler of the Seven Kingdoms. The skirt of the dress was made of sable silk, puffed shoulder pieces where made of black silk with red slashes and the sleeves were also black with gold thread bands that had pearls sewn into them ringing the elbows, and a bejeweled thread of gold belt was tied around Rhaenyra's waist.
When her servants pinned a crimson cape with ermine trim over her shoulders with two elegant solid gold brooches decorated with the royal sigil, a three headed dragon, Rhaenyra, not even properly crowned yet, looked every inch like a queen. After she was dressed, Rhaenyra mounted her beloved dragon, Syrax. The yellow dragon let out a grunt as she unfolded her wings and took to the skies with her mistress atop her back. Following the queen were three other dragons: Moondancer, Tyraxes, and Stormcloud, the latter being the young mount of Prince Aegon the Younger, who was named so due to his dark bluish-grey coloring. Below the dragons was a small flotilla from House Velaryon that carried the rest of Rhaenyra's family as they followed her to King's Landing and towards the realization of a long awaited destiny.
After a long flight towards King's Landing, the Red Keep came into view upon the horizon. Flying above the city were the rest of the Black dragons: Meleys, Caraxes, Vermax, and Arrax. Rhaenyra's heart began to beat faster. She felt nervous, but she knew she could do this. Her father undoubtedly felt the same way when he was crowned king all of those years ago too.
"Be still my beating heart. Be still…" Rhaenyra chanted over and over quietly to herself. She removed one hand from Syrax's reins to turn the ring on her left index finger. Turning the rings on her fingers was a compulsive behavior Rhaenyra did whenever she was anxious. Her father had had the same nervous tick as well. She couldn't really remember her father's coronation, but she did recollect on seeing him turning the rings on his fingers like waterwheels as the hour of the ceremony approached.
As her entourage got closer to Blackwater Bay, Rhaenyra heard a loud din coming from the city. She focused her gaze upon the horizon and she realized that the noise was coming from the massive crowd that was swamping the city docks. The smallfolk were cheering for her, shouting her name with glee as they threw hats up into the air. Rhaenyra felt a large smile form on her face as she listened to the joy the commoners had for her ascension. From her position in the sky, Rhaenyra could see the ship holding her family anchor off at the dock with a cortege of castle guards waiting for them.
Seeing that her family was being taken care of, Rhaenyra flew her dragon towards the mighty spires of the Red Keep. After circling once around the castle for effect, Rhaenyra guided Syrax towards the main courtyard to land. As soon Syrax landed, Rhaenyra's husband came over to greet his wife and to help her dismount. After sharing an embrace and a kiss, Rhaenyra looked over her husband's raiment's. Just like Rhaenyra, Daemon was dressed to impress in the colors of their house. He wore an exquisite long-sleeved tunic that was night black with crimson bordering on the ends of his sleeves, collar and hems and he also wore black trousers and shoes.
Around her uncle-husband's neck, uncharacteristic of him, was a large gold necklace. It was made up of squares of solid gold that were inlaid with rubies and at its center was a large medallion bearing Rhaenyra's personal heraldry: a shield quartered with the sigils of Houses Arryn, Velaryon and Targaryen, the latter which was used twice. Each sigil was inlaid with semi-precious stones and mother-of-pearl: lapis-lazuli and pearl for the Arryn's, chrysoprase and pearl for the Velaryon's, and carnelian and black onyx for the Targaryen's. Rhaenyra was in awe with this piece of jewelry as much as she was perplexed by it.
"Who gave you this?" she asked as she held the Black Medallion in her hand.
"Wesley. He had it commissioned for me. He said that this would make me look more regal in appearance."
Daemon held the heavy bauble between his right thumb and index finger and he held it up to give it an appraising look.
"It certainly does." Rhaenyra said.
A corner of Daemon's mouth lifted as he gave his niece-wife a small smile of appreciation. He then turned slightly around and offered the crook of his left elbow to Rhaenyra.
"Shall we go to the entrance courtyard and wait for the rest to arrive, my queen?"
Rhaenyra smiled upon hearing that and she gladly intertwined her arm with Daemon's.
"Why certainly, my king." She said.
Arm in arm, the two walked towards the entrance courtyard. With the boisterous cheering of the citizens of King's Landing heralding the royal procession outside the castle walls and the majestic Red Keep towering over her and her husband, anxiety once again crept up into Rhaenyra's mind, and she began fiddling with her rings once more. Daemon took note of his niece's nervous tic and he used his right hand to gently pat hers, giving her some comfort as they reached the entrance courtyard
Waiting outside of the massive double doors leading towards the main entrance into the Red Keep was a familiar face, Princess Rhaenys Targaryen. Just like her cousins, Rhaenys was dressed in red and black as well, although her dress was not as luxurious and regal as Rhaenyra's was, and it had silver accents rather than gold. Rhaenys's hair flowed freely over her back and she wore a simple band of solid silver on her head. Upon seeing the soon-to-be queen and her consort, Rhaenys smiled and she walked over to greet them. She took her former daughter-in-law's hands into hers and she held them firmly.
"Are you ready, my dear?" Rhaenys asked gently, her excitement bubbling through her composure. Rhaenyra nodded.
"Yes I am, Cousin Rhaenys. Just a little nervous…"
"Your father was quite nervous during his coronation too. How much do you remember about the ceremony?"
Rhaenyra furrowed her brow as she tried to remember.
"I remember father being anointed by the High Septon, ascending the stairs leading up to the Iron Throne, and then mother announcing his title for the entire court to hear."
"Yes," Rhaenys nodded, "you will soon be performing those rituals. It will be over quick, I promise. I remember Viserys's coronation being quick myself. You do not need to worry about a thing my dear…"
Rhaenys gently squeezed her cousin's hands to reassure her, and Rhaenyra reciprocated the gesture by squeezing Rhaenys's hands with a nervous smile. The three stood about in silence for several minutes before Ser Steffon Darklyn, now the Lord Commander of the Queensguard, along with two of his sworn brothers, all bedecked from head to toe in immaculate white armor, arrived at the Red Keep's main gate.
"Your majesty," Ser Steffon announced, "the procession has arrived."
Rhaenyra, Daemon and Rhaenys lit up when they heard that. Rhaenyra's two oldest sons, who were not present at the moment, had been down at the city docks to greet their grandfather, younger brother, half-siblings, twin fiancées, and Velaryon cousins as they disembarked from their ships. They then rode with their family in wheelhouses through the streets in the royal procession. Ser Steffon and his men turned to face the procession as it arrived. Queen Rhaenyra could barely contain her excitement.
The first to arrive was the wheelhouse containing Jacaerys, Lucerys, Baela, Rhaena, and Corlys, and they all stepped out as soon as the wheelhouse had come to a full stop. The couples were a sight to behold. Jace was wearing a vest of cloth of gold over a fine black undershirt, and his trousers and shoes matched his shirt in color. Luke wore a vest made of cloth of silver with a sea-green undershirt, trousers and shoes. Both had jeweled daggers on their belts.
The Targaryen Sisters' dresses were magnificent: Baela's was a dark blue dress with a silver, white, and black sash belt and brocade on the hems that were decorated with tiny pearls, white sleeves cascaded beneath the short sleeves of the main dress and they both ended at Baela's middle fingers where they were attached to gold rings. Rhaena's dress was cyan and white with a gold and white brocade with pearls. Just like her twin, the sleeves on Rhaena's dress ended at her middle fingers. To differentiate from Baela further, Rhaena wore her silver-gold hair in a braided bun whilst Baela let her hair flow freely with a jeweled circlet crowning her head. Both sisters looked absolutely gorgeous.
Lord Corlys Velaryon proudly wore an outfit that reflected the colors of his house: sea-green and white with silver accents and pearls woven into some of the hems. Happy to be reunited with her husband and grandchildren, Princess Rhaenys immediately walked over and embraced him and their granddaughters. Before the Queen Who Never Was could hug her two oldest grandsons, Jacaerys and Lucerys's mother got to them first. She had walked over with open arms towards the two brothers.
"My sons…" Rhaenrya said as she warmly embraced her two eldest children and kissed both their cheeks, much to the embarrassment of Jacaerys and Lucerys. The princes' future wives did their best to stifle their giggles at the sight of their red faces. Soon, the wheelhouse containing Joffrey, Aegon, and Viserys arrived. Joff's raiments were of a red and gold color scheme while his younger half-brothers wore red and black. Then another wheelhouse arrived.
When that carriage stopped, Maester Gerdardys stepped out first. He was soon followed by a young, pretty brown-haired woman who was carrying a bundle in her arms. That bundle contained the seven day old Princess Visenya Targaryen. The woman, Visenya's wet nurse, gave the baby to Gerardys, who in turn brought Visenya to her mother. Rhaenyra gently took her daughter from her maester's arms and held her.
Visenya was wide awake and she looked around her new surroundings fearfully as she let out small whimper. She appeared to have cried earlier, no doubt having been awoken by the cheering crowds. Rhaenyra rocked her daughter gently in her arms and the baby began to calm down. As Visenya settled, Rhaenyra turned around to show her husband his new daughter.
"Daemon," Rhaenyra said proudly, "behold our daughter, Princess Visenya Targaryen."
Daemon walked over to his wife to get a better look at his newborn daughter. When her father's shadow washed over her, Visenya looked up to see him for the first time. The little princess held her gaze upon her father as her mother gently transferred her into Daemon's arms. Daemon held his newborn child with gusto, bearing a proud smile upon his face. Rhaenys, Jace and Luke gathered around Daemon to get a good look at Visenya.
"She is certainly a lovely babe. I am sure she is going to grow up to be a beautiful woman like her mother." Daemon said as he looked over his daughter. "Visenya reminds me of when you were a newborn yourself, darling."
Rhaenyra smiled warmly upon that remark. A young boy emerged from the castle. As he approached the group it became apparent that the child was a religious acolyte, wearing white vestments that bore the rainbow colored seven pointed star that represented the Faith of Seven, the dominant religion of the Seven Kingdoms. His fair blond hair had been meticulously groomed, with a slight curl just below each ear. Upon approaching the royal retinue, the boy bowed respectively to the queen and he spoke with a clear voice.
"Your royal highness, the time of your coronation has come. It is time to form the procession."
Rhaenyra stiffened and her smile faded away. The time had finally come at last, but it felt too soon. Rhaenyra had wanted to spend some more time with her family before she was crowned. But nothing could be done about that now. Daemon gently handed Visenya back to Maester Gerardys and everyone took up their positions. The acolyte was to lead the procession into the Red Keep followed by Rhaenyra and Daemon.
Ser Steffon Darklyn and the head of the Castle Guards were to flank Rhaenyra and Daemon while the rest of the White Cloaks were to surround the rest of the royal family. Following Rhaenyra were Corlys and Rhaenys, Jace and Baela, Luke and Rhaena, Joffrey, Aegon, Viserys, Visenya and her wet nurse, and Maester Gerardys. After the procession had been organized, the acolyte led the group inside. The massive double doors leading into the throne room loomed over the group like a giant and the procession mentally steeled themselves for what was to come. Rhaenyra straightened herself, stretched her neck and made herself appear more regal in order to hide her nervousness.
A cacophony of voices echoed out from behind the doors. The throne room sounded like it was full to capacity judging by the volume of the voices and it reminded Rhaenyra of a beehive with the bees buzzing about. In front of the double doors was the High Septon. Wearing white and gold vestments that were intricately decorated with the images of the seven gods of the Faith, the old man acknowledged his future queen with a slight bow, and everyone else bowed before the Shepherd of the Masses. In his weathered hands was a large golden incense burner held by a chain.
The High Septon gestured towards the acolyte to come to him. Obeying him, the boy approached the High Septon and the old man pointed the lad towards his incense burner. The boy then procured some flint and tinder from a satchel attached to his belt and he lit the holy man's burner. As the sweet scented smoke began to waft out from its ornate receptacle, the boy then silently went towards a banner bearing the seven pointed star that was resting against the wall. He took his place before the king and queen and he was soon joined by a pageboy wearing black and crimson bearing a banner that displayed House Targaryen's heraldry.
The High Septon positioned himself in front of the whole procession and he gave a command with a faint, ancient voice.
"Open the doors…"
The castle guards did as told and the doors were slowly opened. The crowd within the throne room immediately quieted down and trumpets were sounded. The coronation was beginning at last. The High Septon walked in, swinging the burner right to left, spewing evanescent blue clouds of frankincense into the air, and the procession followed him in slowly. It was a sight to behold.
Nobles from every corner of the Seven Kingdoms, minus a few from the Reach, and even from the Fee Cities were present. Men, women and children in resplendent and ornate clothes watched as their future queen and her family entered the throne room. The Velaryon Princes, twins Baela and Rhaena, and both Aegon and Viserys were in awe of the crowd. They had never seen so many people gathered into one place before, even with the great number of courtiers that usually crowded the room during their grandfather's reign. The pressure of being proper and dignified weighed down on the family, and Baela and Rhaena tightened their grips on their fiancé's arms while their younger half-brothers stayed close to Joffrey and looked ahead, trying not look flustered.
Rhaenyra's heart rate quickened, and she felt that an invisible puppeteer was now guiding her movements as the procession continued their slow walk down the carpet. The Iron Throne, the seat of five kings ever since Aegon's Conquest one hundred and twenty-eight years earlier in 1 AC, was in her sight and now, not only would the throne hold its sixth successor, but also the very first reigning queen of the Seven Kingdoms, Rhaenyra herself. As they got closer to the throne, the family and Queensguard fanned out and they grouped themselves by each side of the throne. Only Rhaenyra, Daemon and the High Septon, acolyte and pageboy were left as they reached the first step of the Iron Throne. Nine altar boys awaited the High Septon's arrival, and they held the coronation's key components.
Two of the boys held cushions, one red and the other black, both lined with frilled red-gold thread and tassels that held Rhaenyra and Daemon's crowns. The other seven altar boys each held a small golden bowl that was inlaid with six jewels that was covered with a lid that possessed a pinion that was studded with a large gemstone, clearly the vessels that held the seven sacred oils that were used for anointment. The High Septon stopped swinging the burner and he handed it to an acolyte who was standing nearby. When he turned around to face Rhaenyra and Daemon, the couple stopped walking and they released each other and both knelt down on one knee on the floor with their heads bowed. The High Septon then gestured to the boys with the crowns and oils to come forward.
The altar boys removed the lids from their oil receptacles, and the High Septon gingerly dipped his fingers into one of them. He then brought his moistened fingers towards Rhaenyra's forehead and he gently touched her skin.
"The Father." incanted the High Septon, his voice booming over the now silent throne room like a war horn sounding the call to battle. Dipping his fingers into each oil bowl, he then made six more marks on Rhaenyra's forehead, and each time he announced the name of the deity he was honoring:
"The Mother."
"The Warrior."
"The Maiden."
"The Smith."
"The Crone."
"The Stranger."
After he was done, the Shepherd of the Masses gently picked up Rhaenyra's crown from its scarlet cushion. It was a band of solid gold that was studded with seven different colored gemstones that represented the Faith of Seven inlaid in circular settings: the center jewel being a diamond for the Father, to it's right was a yellow beryl for the Mother, an emerald for the Maiden, and a topaz for the Crone; to the left of the diamond was a ruby for the Warrior, a sapphire for the Smith, and an amethyst for the Stranger. It had been the crown of two Targaryen kings, Jaehaerys I and Viserys I. Rhaenyra felt extremely honored that she was being crowned with the same crown that had been worn by both her great-grandfather and father. As the High Septon held the crown over Rhaenyra's head, he spoke aloud for all to hear.
"Anointed by the Seven above, I hereby crown thee, Rhaenyra Targaryen, as Queen of the Seven Kingdoms."
The old man then placed the crown upon Rhaenyra's head. Her skin tingled with excitement as she felt the cold, uncomfortable metal headdress rest on her silver-gold hair. Ever since she was a child, Rhaenyra had wandered what it had felt like to wear her father's crown. She knew that it would be uncomfortable but the queen held some hope that it wouldn't be as heavy as it was. After crowning her, the High Septon then turned his attention to Daemon, anointing him with the holy oil seven times, calling out the names of the Seven, and formerly crowning him with his consort's crown; it had been modeled after Aegon the Conqueror's crown, being made of black iron and studded with rubies, although it was smaller in comparison to the real thing.
"Anointed by the Seven above, I hereby crown thee, Daemon Targaryen, as King Consort of the Seven Kingdoms."
The old man backed away from the new queen and king.
"You may both rise."
Rhaenyra and Daemon slowly stood up. Rhaenyra's gaze trailed up the bladed steps to the Iron Throne itself. Here it was, the apex of her coronation, her sitting on the Iron Throne before her family and the gathered lords and ladies of the realm.
"Your highness," the High Septon spoke, "you may now ascend the steps to the Iron Throne."
Rhaenyra made her way towards the Iron Throne. One of could have heard a pin drop due to the overwhelming silence as everyone who was present raptly watched as their new queen climbed the steps that led to the Iron Throne. Upon reaching the throne itself, Rhaenyra pushed her ermine cape aside to give her feet room to turn around, unintentionally creating a dramatic effect, and she sat down on the Iron Throne. The seat was cold, and Rhaenyra gently placed her hands upon the armrests, being careful not to prick her fingers or cut her palms and calves against the exposed blades. Rhaenyra also made sure not to lean too far back lest she be pierced by the blades that had been purposely bent to make sure that the monarch remained on edge both literally and metaphorically.
"A king should never sit easy." was what King Aegon I Targaryen had said when he designed the Iron Throne, and his words rang out voicelessly in Rhaenyra's ears. Soon another sound would fill them.
"Rhaenyra of House Targaryen," King Consort Daemon Targaryen sounded from below the Iron Throne, "the First of Her Name." Rhaenyra held her head high as her new title was being announced to all who were present, a smile growing on her face. "Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men. Lady of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm. Long may she reign."
"All hail the queen!" Ser Darklyn intoned loudly, and the crowd repeated his words, causing the air to tremble.
"ALL HAIL THE QUEEN!"
At long last, the first reigning queen of Westeros had been crowned, and a new era in the Seven Kingdom's history had begun. Victory had never felt so sweet and amazing. Cousin Rhaenys was right, the ceremony was quick. Rhaenyra savored the moment for a minute longer before deciding to descend from the Iron Throne to start the seven days of festivities to celebrate her coronation. Her family, the clergy, the Queensguard, and the coronation audience all bowed to Rhaenyra when she reached the floor.
Taking her husband's arm into hers, Queen Rhaenyra I Targaryen led her family out of the throne room. The trumpets sounded once more and the audience in the throne room bowed to her again. The walk was made in silence and when Rhaenyra and her family exited the Red Keep, raucous cheering and the ringing of bells greeted the new queen. Beyond the gate was a jubilant crowd of city folk all shouting her name.
"Queen Rhaenyra!"
"Rhaenyra Targaryen!"
"All hail the queen!"
Rhaenyra's smile remained on her face even after she and her husband, along with Rhaenys and Corlys entered the wheelhouse that was to escort them to the tourney grounds outside of the city. The rest of her family followed in other wheelhouses, and soon they made their way through the packed streets of King's Landing (baby Visenya remained at the Red Keep with her wet nurse due to being so young).
"How do you feel now, Rhaenyra?" Rhaenys asked.
"Much better now, thank you." Rhaenyra said.
"You were so worried, my niece," Daemon said to her, "but the coronation was not an issue at all now was it?"
"Not at all uncle, not at all." Rhaenyra said and she gave him a kiss on his cheek. Soon the procession made its way outside of the city and into the tourney grounds. Tents were scattered throughout the area as far as the eye could see, and they were decorated with beautiful patterns and vibrant colors. Pageboys and squires scrambled about to run last minute errands for their knights before the festivities started. Besides knights and their charges, entertainers from all over the realm, even as faraway as Essos, had flocked to King's Landing: acrobats, magicians, bards, and even a dancing bear act were among those present for the Queen's Tourney.
After the procession had stopped, the royal family was escorted from their wheelhouses to their royal box at the stands by the Queensguard. Two male servants opened the curtains and the family stepped into their box. The crowds cheered as they entered and took their seats. Soon a trumpet sounded and the contestants entered the sparring grounds. Rhaenyra's two youngest sons were in awe of the pageantry of the event and the numerous banners belonging to the noble houses of the realm.
Leading the tourney's opening parade were knights from the Crownlands: Cargyll, Celtigar, Darke, Darklyn (one of House Targaryen's most powerful supporters after the Velaryon's and House Darry from the Riverlands), Hollard, Kettleblack, Manning, Massey and Stokeworth. Leading the Crownlanders was Ser Daeron Velaryon, one of Lord Corlys Velaryon's grandnephews, and one of the few Velaryon men who wisely kept their mouth shut about the paternity of his Cousin Laenor's sons. Following retinue were knights from the Stormlands: Houses Bolling, Buckler, Cafferen, Connington, Dondarrion, Errol, Lonmouth, and Tarth, and leading them was Lord Borros Baratheon of Storm's End. House Baratheon was the leading house of the Stormlands, and Borros was a cousin to Princess Rhaenys Targaryen due his late father, Boremund, having been the older brother of Rhaenys's mother. Watching him from the stands was Borros's wife, Lady Elenda Caron, the "Four Storms" (aka the couple's four daughters): Cassandra, Maris, Ellyn, and Floris; and Borros's father-in-law, Royce Caron, the Lord of Nightsong.
From the Vale came knights from Houses Belmore, Borrell, Corbray, Hersy, Moore, Redfort, Royce (from both Runestone and the Gates of the Moon), Waxley, and Waynwood. Leading them was Ser Joffrey Arryn, the fourth cousin and heir of the childless and unmarried Jeyne Arryn, the Lady of the Eyrie. Jeyne was also Rhaenyra's maternal half-first cousin, with Lady Arryn's father being one of the older half-brothers of the queen's biological mother. Being a blood relative of the queen, Jeyne and her entourage sat in a box on the left of the Targaryen's royal box. Accompanying the "Maiden of the Vale" was her lady-in-waiting and best friend, and rumored lover, Lady Jessamyn Redfort.
Knights from the Riverlands followed the Valemen: Houses Blackwood, Bracken, Charlton, Darry (the most ardent supporters of the Targaryen's after the Darklyn's and Velaryon's), Frey, Goodbrook, Mallister, Mooton, Piper, and Vypren. Leading them was Lord Elmo Tully. During his youth, Elmo had courted Rhaenyra when she had visited the Riverlands in 112 AC, and the queen remembered him as being a courteous gentleman. Surprisingly, there were knights from the Reach who had come to participate in the tourney: Houses Beesbury, Costayne, Footly, Fossoway, Hunt, Peake, Rowan, and Tarly. Leading the Reachmen was Donald Tarly, the Lord of Horn Hill.
From the Westerlands came Houses Brax, Crakehall, Drox, Farman, Kenning, Marbrand, Plumm, Lannister (from both Casterly Rock and Lannisport), Reyne, Tarbeck, and Westerling. The retinue was led by Ser Jason Lannister, the Lord of Casterly Rock and the twin brother of Lord Tyland, the former Master of Ships who had resigned after the Black Conspiracy. From what Rhaenyra had heard, a rift had formed between the twins after the Conspiracy since Jason wanted to support the queen, and Tyland still had Green sympathies. Of course Jason did not attend the Coronation Tourney alone. Just like Lord Baratheon, Jason's family had come with him: his wife, Lady Johanna Westerling, and their six children: Tyshara, Cyrelle, Anora, Lelia, Marianne, and Lorean; and his father-in-law, Roland Westerling, the Lord of the Crag (rumor had it that Jason had even snuck in his mistress and their bastard daughters to the tourney too).
Knights from the North had come to participate too, and the banners of Houses Hornwood, Manderly, Mormont, Overton, Stark, and Umber were present. They were led by the Lord of Winterfell, Cregan Stark. Seeing the grey direwolf sigil of the Stark's jogged Rhaenyra's memory about something regarding the North that she had been told about in a letter from Daemon during the final days of her pregnancy. She turned to her husband, who was sitting at her left.
"Daemon, weren't the Bolton's supposed to participate in the tourney?"
The new king consort turned to his wife to answer her.
"Yes, but they withdrew from the listings earlier this month and House Umber replaced them. Did you not read the letter that I sent you?"
"Yes, I did uncle, but I had been receiving hundreds of them during that time regarding my coronation and the tourney. I remember that you said that there was an incident that caused the Bolton's to withdraw. What was it?"
Daemon leaned his head closer to Rhaenyra's, who did the same, so that they could hear each other over the fanfare.
"When the Bolton's were inquired as to why they were withdrawing, a raven came with the message stating that their lord had died and that his son was taking over and that id why they are not participating, Lord Bolton is trying to pick up where his father had left off."
Rhaenyra furrowed her brow as she tried to remember who had been the previous Lord of the Dreadfort and who is his heir was. House Bolton was a powerful house that was sworn to House Stark. There were so many great houses and semi-great ones to remember, and the ones from the North were particularly hard to recollect on since the North seldom engaged in any affairs with the South and they kept to themselves for the most part. Then she remembered.
"Wasn't the former Lord Bolton's name Rogerius?" Rhaenyra asked.
"Yes." Daemon said and he continued, "When the Northerners arrived just three days ago, Jace greeted them and inquired as to how the Bolton's were doing ever since the former Lord of the Dreadfort's passing. Lord Cregan said that he has not spoken with the new Bolton patriarch, Stesanor, ever since his father was executed."
Rhaenyra's eyes widened when she heard that.
"Executed?" she said. "What did he do?"
"Well, from what Cregan told Jace, it all started a month ago. Stesanor's wife had given birth to twin sons last month, and Rogerius held a feast to celebrate their birth. During the festivities, a young serving girl tripped and she spilled some wine on Lord Bolton's boots. It was an accident of course, but from what Cregan said, Rogerius became enraged. He slapped the girl, and he dragged her down to the Dreadfort's dungeons to be punished for her "transgression. "
Rhaenyra listened intently to what her uncle-consort was saying, dread creeping into her heart as she feared as to what horrid fate the poor serving girl had suffered just for being clumsy. She had heard of the frightening reputation of the Bolton's. Since the days before Aegon's Conquest, the family was known for it's fondness for flaying people alive for any transgression regardless of whether it was major or minor. Flaying was such an ingrained family tradition that House Bolton's coat of arms bore a flayed man on a pink field surrounded by droplets of blood. Adding more to the already ominous heraldry, the motto of House Bolton was "Our Knives are Sharp."
"He flayed her didn't he?" Rhaenyra said with a low voice that was edged with dread.
"He did," Daemon confirmed, "but only half of her. Rogerius had the serving girl's feet and legs flayed. Her screaming was so loud that they could be heard by the guests in the great hall. She died from blood loss."
Disgust and horror overcame Rhaenyra's face, and she turned pale. "How could he do that? How old was she?"
"Two and ten." Daemon replied, "and that's not the worst part of it. After her legs had been flayed, the Lord of the Dreadfort forced the girl's terrified mother to sew him a new pair of boots from her own daughter's skin to replace the ones she spilled wine on…"
Horror gave way to anger and Rhaenyra's voice rumbled with rage.
"How did Lord Stark execute Lord Bolton? Was it painful?"
"Yes, it was." Daemon said. "Stark was horrified when heard about the girl's death. He took a large host to the Dreadfort, and he condemned Rogerius for what he had done. As the ruler of the North, Cregan took control of the Dreadfort and he threw Rogerius into his own dungeons.
The day after, Cregan had offered Rogerius clemency if he got rid of his flaying instruments. However, the two got into an argument, and Rogerius supposedly threatened both Lord Stark and his son in the heat of the moment. In retaliation, Cregan executed Rogerius via flaying and the executioners started from his feet and worked their way up. Cregan said that the bastard died screaming; Lord Bolton expired when the executioners reached his waist, just like the serving girl…"
Rhaenyra slowly nodded her head with agreement.
"Good… it's what he deserved for killing that poor child…"
The music that had been playing during the parade had stopped and a crier announced the beginning of the tourney.
"Lords and ladies, knights of the realm, we are all gathered here today to celebrate coronation of our new monarch," the crier, who was wearing Targaryen livery, turned around to face Rhaenyra. "Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen the First of Her Name."
The crowd applauded Rhaenyra I. The crier continued.
"My lady, all of these gallant knights have come to participate in this glorious tourney in your honor. Would you like to welcome them?"
Rhaenyra nodded and she stood from her chair. Silence pervaded and only the whinnying of horses and the distant hissing of the family's dragons flying above in the sky could be heard. A warm wind blew through the grounds and it caused the tents and flags to flap about.
"Honorable knights and lords of the realm." Rhaenyra announced loud and clear, the disgust and horror she had felt about the story behind Lord Rogerius Bolton's execution now gone. "It pleases me and my family immensely to see you all gathered here today. Not only do you honor House Targaryen with your presence, but you also bring honor to your houses as well. May the Warrior grace your arms and the Smith strengthen your blades, and the Maiden to bless the lucky noblewoman who shall be crowned as the "Queen of Love and Beauty" at this tourney's conclusion."
Casting her gaze from right to left so she could see the anticipation of the vast crowds, Rhaenyra smiled. She then held out her arms as if she were a septa who was about to deliver a sermon.
"With those words, let the tourney commence!"
The crowds let out a thunderous applause and the knights dispersed so that the first two competitors for the first joust could take their places. Rhaenyra sat back down in her chair, satisfied that her first speech as queen, brief as it was, had been completed, and she began to relax. Daemon leaned over and congratulated her on her successful speech, as did the rest of her family. Feeling proud, Rhaenyra took a golden goblet in her hand from the small table that stood by her on her right, and she gestured towards a servant who was standing in the shadows of the royal box to fill it with wine from a golden ewer. The servant quietly did as told and he filled his king consort's goblet when he asked for wine too.
As Rhaenyra took her first sip, the crier announced who the first jousters would be.
"Our competitors for the first joust." The crier directed his hand to his left. A knight bearing the colors of House Darklyn rode in on a black charger. "Ser Robert of House Darklyn." The crier then pointed to his right and a knight on a brown stallion with a black mane wearing the livery emblazoned with lapis blue, orange and black with a golden stag that had an orange bar cutting across it diagonally. "Ser Minos of House Bolling."
"An interesting set of challengers for the first round." Rhaenys said.
"Yes it is, my dear." Corlys said in response. "House Darklyn has always produced fine warriors" He squinted at Ser Minos Bolling, trying to glean whatever traits would denote to the man's character. "I am not sure about Ser Bolling, but judging from the size of his armor, he is a very well built man even without it."
The jousters got into position and their horses prodded the dirt with their hooves as their riders steadied them.
"It sounds as if Ser Darklyn has met his match." Rhaenys said. She then turned to Jacaerys. "Is he not a cousin of Lord Commander Steffon?"
"I believe so, grandmother." Jace replied.
"Jousters ready?" the crier called out and he held out a small flag. The contestants both nodded. The crier then waved the flag.
"Begin!" he shouted.
The knights lowered their lances and they charged towards the other along the dividing partition. Clouds of dust trailed behind the horses as the men raced the tips of their lances towards each other. The lances crashed into the left shoulders of the knights, but suprisingly, not one of the jousters was knocked off their horse, but their pauldrons were dented, and the force of the blows had caused both men to drop their lances. The first tilt had put everyone on the edge of their seat. Gasping and excited whispering resounded from the audience like the sound of singing crickets at night.
As the horses trotted towards the starting points, squires raced out onto the grounds to pick up their master's lances and they returned them to their owners. Both Minos and Robert rolled their shoulders in anticipation of the second tilt. Thanks to their armor, their shoulders hadn't been dislocated.
"By the Seven they are both still standing!" Luke exclaimed with surprise. His stepsister/fiancée, Rhaena, had her hand against her heart as she cringed at the sight. Baela meanwhile shared her second stepbrother's look of amazement.
Shortly after the knights had composed themselves, the crier announced the second part of the first round and wove the flag. Robert and Minos charged at each other again. This time, a victor emerged. Ser Bolling's lance ran into Darklyn's shoulder again and the blow was delivered with more force. The blow was strong enough to knock off both the damaged left pauldron and Robert off from his horse.
The crowds cheered and Ser Bolling rode his horse triumphantly around the ring. A dazed Ser Darklyn was helped out of the ring by his squires, another guided his now riderless horse out of the ring.
"The victor, Ser Minos Bolling of the Stormlands!"
The applause grew louder, and Rhaenyra thought she heard a young child shout out "Uncle Minos! Uncle Minos!" but it was soon drowned out by the cheering. Ser Minos would go on to triumph through the next four rounds, knocking his opponents down with ease. After knocking down a knight from House Umber during the final round, Minos was announced as the first winner of the jousts. Soon laborers appeared to remove the partition so that the next exciting event of the tourney could begin, the melee. But it was not going to start right away.
Ser Minos had to rest first and be examined for injuries. In the meantime, an intermission period began and some entertainers arrived. Jesters wearing colorful motley arrived, the bells on their unusual hats jingling. A small man who was the size of a child with a large head and wearing yellow and red clothes led the group. His large head identified him as the court fool, Mushroom.
He had been the Red Keep's fool since Rhaenyra's childhood, and she knew that Mushroom's most infamous form of entertainment was to tell salacious and scandalous tales that he had overheard from courtiers, tales Mushroom often spoke of in great detail… Thinking quickly, Rhaenyra looked over her shoulder and she called over another servant.
"Please bring me a member of my Queensguard from outside of the royal box."
The servant nodded and he went to do as told. Rhaenyra's family looked over towards their matriarch curiously.
"Why do you need a member of the Queensguard, mother?" Joffrey asked.
Before Rhaenyra could answer her third born son's question, the servant returned with a Queensguard knight. Rhaenyra gestured with her fingers for the man to come over to her side. He bowed his head and he obeyed her command.
"What is your name, ser?" she asked.
The knight took off his helm. Rhaenyra did not recognize the man for he was one of the new recruits that had been selected to fill the vacancies in the Queensguard following the Black Conspiracy. The knight was an average and kind looking young man with long black hair hair that was tied in a ponytail. His dark eyes focused on Rhaenyra's purple ones as he spoke with a voice that almost betrayed his nervousness in talking to the queen.
"Ser Clothair Blackwood, my lady."
"Ser Clothair, I have a task for you." Rhaenyra began and the young knight became stiff as he listened to his queen. "Mushroom is going to—"
Uproarious laughter had cut off Queen Rhaenyra's sentence. Mushroom had just reached the climax of one of his infamous tales. This one regarded the spicy relationship between an older noblewoman and her young, comely manservant. Not surprisingly, King Daemon laughed along with the crowd as his stepsons and cousin-in-law/former father-in-law stifled laughter of their own. After everyone had calmed down, Rhaenyra resumed her postponed conversation with Ser Blackwood.
"… tell stories like this and it is inappropriate for young children to hear." She then looked over to her two youngest sons, who thankfully, were too young to understand the lewd nature of Mushroom's tale, and observed the audience and their family with bemused looks. "Will you be so kind as to take my sons around the fairgrounds until the intermission is over? A trumpet will be heard when the melee is about to begin. I want to spare them from these sordid stories…"
"Of course, my lady." Clothair said, "It would be an honor."
"What is wrong with Mushroom's stories, mother?" Aegon asked innocently.
"You will understand when you are old enough, my sweet." the queen replied. "But please go with Ser Blackwood. Never stray from his sight, stay with him always. Understand?"
"Yes, mother…" Aegon responded, and his mother continued.
"And keep an eye on your younger brother as well Aegon. Ser Blackwood has to watch both of you, but you need to help him as well my son."
"I understand, mother."
"Good boy." Rhaenyra said and she gave her fourth born son a kiss on his forehead. Viserys walked up to his mother.
"Can I have a kiss too, mama? Please?" he asked, his eager dark purple eyes looking puppy-like. Rhaenyra smiled, and she granted her youngest son's wish. With that, Ser Blackwood escorted the young princes out into the fairgrounds. The grounds were pulsing with activity. Crowds of smallfolk and nobles milled about, taking in the sights of the tourney and fair as entertainers performed their acts and vendors called out to attract buyers for their wares.
Some of those vendors were members of King's Landing's numerous guilds: jewelers, brewers, weavers, bakers, and woodworkers. They had their guild's coat of arms emblazoned on their tents and stalls. Women from the Weaver's Guild were showing a noblewoman and her young daughter a beautiful small dress made of finely woven blue wool with dark blue and green brocade on the hems and sleeves. The girl was looking at the dress excitedly while her mother scrutinized the piece. The woman shook her head and the weavers put it away and brought out another dress made of bright yellow fabric, eliciting gasps of delight from both the girl and her mother.
The Woodworker's Guild was selling elegantly carved chairs, benches, cradles, and chests that had been made from pine, oak, and cherry wood. There was even some furniture that the guild claimed to have been made from ebony wood that had been imported from Dorne. Two Gold Cloaks guarded the Jewelers Guild pavilion while the artisans presented their magnificent brooches, cloak clasps, necklaces, and rings that were made of gold and silver and embedded with precious and semi-precious gemstones. The Brewers Guild was handing out samples of their beer, which they claimed to have been brewed from the finest barley grains and their stall was populated mostly by smallfolk since they could not afford wine like their richer counterparts. While every stall caught the attention of both princes, there was one that intrigued them the most.
It was the stall belonging to the Baker's Guild. The boys' could smell the mouthwatering scent of fresh baked bread and together with their chaperone and bodyguard, Ser Blackwood, they walked over to the stall. Honey cakes, buns, both regular and ones stuffed with currants, blackberries, and blueberries; and meat pies were on display. They appeared to be fresh, and Aegon and Viserys saw a baker pull out some fresh buns from a makeshift oven. The princes' stomachs growled and one of the bakers, who was kneading dough, looked up from his workspace when he noticed that there were customers approaching.
When the young man saw that his customers had Valyrian features and were accompanied by a knight of the Queensguard, he immediately rushed over to the counter as he brushed his hands on his apron to dust off flour.
"My lords…" the young man began and he stuttered. The other baker took notice and he quickly took over, telling the younger man to resume his duties.
"I apologize for that, milords…" the baker said. "My nephew speaks odd when he is nervous. What would you like from here? Take whatever you want."
Aegon and Viserys both thought of getting meat pies, but then they thought of what a fit their mother would have if they got gravy on their clothes. Instead, the two brothers chose the buns that had berries baked in them, with Aegon getting a currant bun and Viserys choosing blackberry. Ser Blackwood picked a plain bun, and when he asked for the price, the baker shook his head.
"No, no good Ser. You are a knight of the Queensguard and those two are Queen Rhaenyra's sons, your bread is free."
"Nonsense," Ser Blackwood said, and he gave the baker a gold dragon. "If you do not accept this as payment, then see it as a token of our gratitude for your generosity. Have a good day."
The trio walked away from the stall, leaving behind a very delighted baker. Aegon and Viserys quickly devoured their buns while Clothair leisurely ate his. The buns were fresh and were still warm from the oven. As Viserys licked the corners of his mouth to get some stray crumbs and pieces of blackberry, he spotted a sword swallower dressed in various shades of blue downing a shortsword. Viserys became excited upon seeing the spectacle.
"Aegon and Ser Blackwood, look over there!" cried out Viserys as he pointed at the performance that was taking place. The three walked over towards the swallower. When a spectator in the crowd looked behind him and saw the two princes and their Queensguard chaperone coming towards them, he immediately spread the word of their arrival. The crowd parted to allow the three to watch the sword swallower in the front row. Some of the spectators bowed towards Aegon and Viserys while others simply walked shyly away.
The swallower, upon seeing the princes, gently removed the sword from his throat and he bowed to them.
"Welcome my lords and good ser." The performer spoke with an Essosi accent. "I feel immensely humbled to have the two youngest sons of Queen Rhaenyra I Targaryen in my audience today. This performance shall be made in your honor."
The sword swallower then gestured with his shortsword towards a dark skinned male dwarf who was wearing plum-purple and fire-orange clothes. He was standing in front of three wooden racks that held swords and knives of various types and sizes; clearly he was the swallower's assistant and a secondary draw to his act. Without being told, the dwarf hobbled over and gingerly removed the blade from the performer's hand and using a ladder, slid the blade back into its proper slot on the rack.
"Fetch me three long knives, my friend. I want to give the princes' a taste of my talent."
Silently, the dwarf quickly moved his ladder towards the rack that possessed the knives, and he removed three and carried them to the sword swallower. The man took them from his assistant, bowing his head towards him to show his gratitude. The swallower then turned to face the princes.
"My lords," he began, "I shall demonstrate to you the very first trick I created for my performance back home in Braavos, the most glorious of the Free Cities of Essos."
Taking one slender blade out of his left hand and into his right, the man then leaned his head back and opened his mouth wide. He then raised the blade until it dangled over his mouth, and very slowly, he slid it down his throat. Aegon and Viserys watched in both awe and horror as they witnessed the blade disappearing into the man's mouth. The blade stopped moving until only the hilt was visible. Unimpeded by one, the swallower repeated the process and he inserted a second knife, and then a third.
When all of the knives were inserted, the swallower outstretched his arms from his side and he let the blades sit in his throat for a full minute. Despite his mouth being full, a small smile tugged at the corners of the performer's mouth when he heard the gasps of surprise and excited whispering spreading like wildfire over his audience.
"How is he able to do that without cutting his throat?" Ser Blackwood whispered aloud. His charges meanwhile were flabbergasted by the display of immense bravery and risk-taking. Deciding that it was long enough, the swallower gingerly began removing the knives from his throat one at a time. When all three knives were removed, and found to be as clean as they were before being ingested, the audience began clapping, and the swallower bowed to them.
Happy about the crowd's enthusiasm for his performance, the sword swallower continued on with his act. The man thrilled the audience further by gulping down a short-sword. Wanting to thrill them even further, the man performed the trick again. After the sword's hilt straddled his mouth, the swallower's assistant came to his side via ladder and began inserting two daggers between the man's teeth. Audience members grew pale upon seeing this spectacle, with some becoming nauseous as children hid their faces in their hands, and gasps and prayers echoed over the heads of the princes.
After what felt like an eternity, the swallower then slowly reached for the handle of the short-sword. Ever so slowly, he began to gently pull it out of his throat. Aegon clenched his fists together with anxiety while his younger brother stood perfectly straight, doing his best to hide his trembling. When the sword was finally out, the swallower bit down on the daggers in his mouth. With the weapons still in his mouth, the man bowed and he held out his hand to his assistant.
Although too early, a series of claps rang out amongst the crowd. The assistant placed a blindfold in the swallower's hand. Still biting down on the daggers, the man tied the blindfold over his eyes. He then took the daggers out his mouth. With a wide grin, the man suddenly spun around and he threw the blades at two targets that had been set-up behind him.
The strikes were both bull's-eyes, hitting the targets dead center. Cheering roared out as the swallower smugly removed his blindfold. Smiling from ear to ear, the man then turned around and bowed deeply towards his immensely awed audience. The swallower then turned to the two princes.
"What did you think of that, my lords?" he asked with a big grin.
"That was amazing!" Aegon said excitedly.
"How did you do that without cutting your mouth or throat?" Viserys asked.
"It's simple, I just lean my head back to make a straight entryway from my mouth to my stomach for my swords." explained the sword swallower, "Though the real trick is to insert the blade without cutting yourself. That takes years of practice and absolute precision."
Viserys flinched at the thought of cutting his insides. The sword swallower handed his daggers to his assistant, ordering them to be cleaned. When he was done, the swallower took the daggers back, holding them by their tips, and he presented them to the princes' with a bow.
"Take these as gifts, my lords." the swallower spoke, "Let them both be a memento of my act. I have plenty more where those came from."
Aegon and Viserys gingerly grasped the handles of the daggers and took them out of the swallower's hands. The steel blades of the daggers had been polished to a mirror sheen and appeared to be very sharp, their hilts were made of steel, and leather strips were wrapped around the wooden handles for better gripping. Needless to say, the daggers were of great quality. The princes thanked the swallower, who gave them one last bow, and both they and their bodyguard left the venue. The trio walked a few paces more when they reached the tents that belonged to some of the tourney competitors.
Tents of diverse and vibrant colors dotted the field like giant, canvas flowers and flags that waved leisurely in the wind on top of the tents denoted to which house the knight served. Aegon and Viserys were able to recognize the sigils of Houses Arryn, Baratheon, Bolling, Frey, Plumm, Tully, and Royce amidst the sea of colors and symbols. Activity swarmed around the tents as pageboys and squires worked tirelessly to polish armor and weapons, arming knights, and performing small errands. Voices and the whinnying of horses thickened the air as the knights prepared themselves for the first melee of the tourney. The princes and Ser Blackwood took in the sights as much as they could before the trumpet sounded.
Up ahead to the left of the gate leading towards the arena was a tent decorated in the colors of House Bolling. In front of the tent was Ser Minos Bolling. He wasn't wearing his helm, and the princes saw that the man had short curly blond hair and a moustache. Minos was interacting with a group of three people, a husband and wife and their daughter, that appeared to be his family. The woman looked to be Ser Bolling's sister since she possessed similar blonde hair like Minos that was curled while her husband, even though his back was facing Aegon and Viserys, appeared to have silver-gold hair just like they did.
The girl was standing between her parents. She was wearing a light purple dress that accented her curly, fair golden hair that cascaded down her back. As if sensing their presence, the girl turned around. Upon seeing her face, Aegon froze where he stood. She was beautiful, with freckles dotting her cheeks and nose, and she had lilac eyes. Those eyes seemed to stare a hole into Aegon's soul.
The nine year old prince felt himself turn red, and he had to look away so as not to embarrass himself further. His rescue came from the redolent rumbling of the trumpet announcing the beginning of the melee. Thankful beyond words, Aegon turned away as Clothair guided both him and his little brother back to the royal box via a shortcut behind the entertainers tents. The queen and king greeted their sons' upon their return.
"Did you enjoy yourselves, my sons? What did you see at the fair?" Rhaenyra asked. Aegon was thankful that Viserys spoke up first since he was still tongue-tied from seeing the girl with the bewitching eyes. His younger brother happily regaled the sights that both he and Aegon saw, especially about the sword swallower, and both boys showed their parents the daggers that the Bravosi man had given them.
"These are of superb craftsmanship." Daemon commented as he looked over the daggers. "Mind if I show these to everyone else?"
Aegon and Viserys nodded, and their parents gave the daggers to the rest of the family for them to look over.
"So what else did you see?" Rhaenyra inquired. Viserys continued on and when he had finished, the queen looked towards her other son. "You have been quiet this whole time, Aegon. Is everything alright?"
"His face is red." Daemon remarked, causing Aegon's blush to deepen even more. "You aren't getting a fever are you, boy?"
"It's not a fever, papa." Viserys chimed in, "Aegon saw a really pretty girl at Ser Bolling's tent. That's why his face is so red!"
A smile that stretched from ear to ear and creating dimples on Viserys's cheeks filled up his face. Aegon gave his brother a truly venomous glare for revealing the source of his embarrassment. Rhaenyra and Daemon exchanged amused glances with each other while the rest of the family turned to look at Aegon.
"Ooohhh… you saw a pretty girl, huh?" Luke teased. "What did she look like? Did she say anything to you? Did she turn red too when she saw you?"
"Luke, leave him alone…" Rhaena chastised her stepbrother/fiancé, but it was wasted breath. Joffrey joined in the playful teasing of his half-brother.
"Was she prettier than mother?" Joff snickered, resulting in a sideways glance from Rhaenyra, and chortles to erupt from the rest of the family. Viserys took offense to the idea that anyone could be prettier than his mother.
"No, no one is more beautiful than mama!"
Rhaenyra beamed from her youngest son's comment.
"I believe I have to see this girl for myself." The queen stated while feigning seriousness. "She has to be quite remarkable to make Aegon as crimson as he is now."
Aegon wished he could just melt through the cracks of the wooden floor and disappear forever. Rhaenyra took note on her son's composure and she ceased her teasing.
"There, there, Aegon." The queen consoled her son and placed her hand on his shoulder. "We were just teasing you. We will stop now. Why don't you and your brother go take your seats? The melee is about to start."
Aegon appreciated his mother's words, and he nodded silently in agreement. The two boys walked back to their seats while their mother summoned a servant.
"Remind me to give three gold dragons to Ser Blackwood for escorting my sons and for buying them rolls earlier."
The servant nodded and returned to his position by the entrance. Cheering erupted as Ser Bolling and his opponent entered the ring. Judging from the black bear and pine trees on a green field that decorated his shield, the knight served House Mormont of Bear Island from the North. Both men looked different. Ser Bolling was tall and well built and he wielded a war axe in his right hand whilst Ser Mormont appeared to be shorter and leaner, but in his hand, he wielded an extraordinary weapon.
The weapon was a bastard sword made of Valyrian Steel. It was House Mormont's ancestral weapon, "Longclaw". How the weapon had come into the possession of the family, let alone how it came to the North, was unknown.
"The combatants," announced the crier, "Ser Minos Bolling and Ser Triston Mormont!"
Would Ser Bolling's axe be able to withstand the blows from a Valyrian Steel sword? Would Ser Mormont be able to defeat the much taller and stronger Minos? The anticipation was intense. After what felt an eternity, the time for the melee to begin came.
"Begin!" the crier shouted. Minos and his opponent began circling each other, looking over each other for the chink in their armor and working out on how they would strike it. As a gust of wind blew up clouds of dust, Ser Bolling made his move. Raising his axe above his head, the man let out a war cry and he came charging towards his smaller opponent. Undeterred, the knight stood his ground and he raised his shield up in defense.
Just as Minos's axe came down, the Mormont knight suddenly shoved his shield upwards, deflecting the strike and causing his opponent to stumble. Seeing his opportunity, the knight slashed towards Minos's stomach. Despite being stunned by the counter attack, Minos proved to have quick reflexes and he evaded the attack with surprising grace. Impressed by his opponent's cleverness, Minos chuckled darkly before letting out another roar. He came after Ser Triston again, swinging his axe swiftly and chaotically in the air to overwhelm his opponent.
The crowds cheered and shouted encouragements to the knights they wanted to win. The same child who had chanted "Uncle Minos" during the jousts, undoubtedly Minos's niece, the girl Aegon had seen on the tourney grounds, repeated their incantation. Ser Minos and Triston roared at each other as they continued their fight. Blow after blow landed on shields and blades were crossed, each man hoping to best the other since their honor and reputation was on the line. Minos slammed his axe down upon the shield of Ser Mormont.
The blow was delivered with such force that the axe blade became stuck to the painted wood. Seeing what had happened, Ser Mormont acted quickly. Swiftly he swung his shield away from Minos, tearing his axe from his hand. Triston then struck Minos's knees, chest and shoulders, bringing him down. The cheering soon was soon reduced to awed whispers and silence.
But just as suddenly as it had begun, the silence was soon replaced by raucous cheering. Showing great sportsmanship, Ser Triston Mormont staked his sword in the ground and extended his hand to his fallen opponent.
Minos accepted his opponent's hand and after he was on his feet, the two shook hands. This act increased the volume of the cheering, causing the wooden arena to actually tremble. Even the dragons took notice. Stormcloud and Moondancer flew down towards the arena to see what was going on. The audience became excited as the shadows of the two young dragons washed over them.
Aegon and Baela looked up towards the sky with concerned looks, but the queen told them to remain seated. Soon the dragons realized that there wasn't anything of interest to them, and they flew back towards the Red Keep. After their departure, Ser Triston Mormont was named the winner. He kept his title throughout the rest of the day, besting the other competitors and becoming the champion of the first day of the tourney. After the conclusion of the competition, the royal family returned to the Red Keep with their guests to partake in a celebratory feast.
The repast was a glutton's dream come true and it came in seven courses. The first course provided bread, oysters, clams, three kinds of rich soups and stews, and honey braised chicken and rabbit. The second course had two savory pies, meat and lamprey; and piles of curled, pink shrimp. The rest of the courses included a great quantity of meat and fish: roasted pigeons, beef and venison steaks wrapped with bacon, suckling pigs, and sturgeon covered with a spiced cream sauce. Various kinds of cheeses, fruits, honey, and mushrooms were served, which were then followed by desserts like cakes, pies, fruit tarts, almond milk puddings, and candied nuts.
As the guests devoured their food, they quaffed down expensive wines and Tyroshi pear brandy from jewel encrusted gold goblets. Those who were getting full nibbled on the light fare that was presented as the seventh course: hard-boiled eggs, fruit preserves, and nuts. The centerpiece of the whole feast was a large sculpture made from marzipan. It was made in the likeness of the Targaryen three-headed dragon, its body was dyed with Dornish red wine, raisins were used to make the eyes, the claws were made from carved almonds, and the teeth were cloves that had their buds stuck into the marzipan "gums" of the sculpture. It was a truly magnificent banquet.
Rhaenyra looked over the great hall with pride. All these people had come to celebrate her ascension as Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. It had been a long way since the feast of 105 AC, but here she was, properly crowned and ready to rule. As she looked over the vast lines of tables, Rhaenyra felt a slight pang of disappointment. Alicent and her family were not at the feast.
Wanting to share her thoughts, Rhaenyra gently bumped her elbow against Daemon's as he was cutting a juicy chunk of meat from the rabbit on his plate.
"Dear," the queen began, "don't you think that this feast would be more entertaining if Alicent and her family was here?"
Daemon was about to eat the piece of rabbit off his knife when his niece-queen spoke. The new king raised an eyebrow towards his wife's question.
"Why would you want that, Rhaenyra?"
"Just to see how they are coping with my succession to the throne."
The king's stern face soon morphed into one bearing a cruel grin.
"I believe that would be most interesting, my dear." He said, "Very, very interesting…"
Both uncle and niece chuckled as they pictured the expressions of the dowager queen and her family regarding the coronation. Their guffawing was drowned out by the surprised cries of the Lord of Fawnton (House Cafferen). Apparently after biting down on a piece of oyster meat, the man felt his molars crunch on something hard. That "hard thing" turned out to be a pearl. It was an amusing sight to see Lord Cafferen stand up from his chair and hold up his surprising discovery for everyone to see.
Besides the pearl incident, the feast continued on with its normal schedule. There were dances, jesters performing tricks and of course, a lot of toasting. Noblemen raised their cups to their first queen regnant and king consort, wishing them good health and a long and prosperous reign. One nobleman remembered that Rhaenyra had a one week old child, and he held his goblet up in the air to toast both the queen and princess.
"A toast to the queen and her newborn daughter. May her grace's reign be as long and great as her father's, and may Princess Visenya grow up to become a woman of renowned beauty like her mother."
The toast flattered Rhaenyra, both for praising her as well as the fact that the man remembered that Visenya existed. Daemon studied the man who had just toasted his wife and child. Daemon smirked upon realizing who the man was, Owen Fossoway, the Lord of Cider Hall; the son of Mervyn Fossoway, the one whom Daemon had given a black eye during their boyhood all those years ago. Sensing Owen's attempt to kiss up to his niece-queen, Daemon decided to knock him down a peg.
"Here to gain the queen's approval, Lord Fossoway? What happened to your steadfast loyalty to Alicent, or has that become too inconvenient for you?"
Owen glared at Daemon.
"No, my lord," he said in a barely concealed frosty tone, "I simply wanted to toast both your wife and daughter. This has nothing to do with where my loyalties lie, your grace."
Daemon scoffed.
"Did I bruise your ego, Owen? Just like I did your father's when we were boys? He was called the "Bruised Apple" for a reason, and now it seems you that shall now inherit that as well."
The Lord of Cider Hall's fingers tightened around his goblet. People looked back and forth from the king to Owen, anxious about the tension between King Daemon Targaryen and Lord Owen Fossoway. Rhaenyra glared at her uncle-king.
"Daemon!" she hissed quietly. "What are you doing? Don't make a scene. You are now my consort, do not go around antagonizing people!"
The two men held their gazes for what felt like ages before they finally relented. Owen sat back down, and Daemon leaned back into his chair. The feast continued on as normally as it could, but not for Rhaenyra. Anger flowed through her and she did not speak to Daemon for the rest of the feast. The first night of the coronation festivities ended around midnight, and the new queen and king retired to their beds in a tired, aggravated silence.
*Lying-In: I just read about this. In Medieval Europe, along with other world cultures at the time, it was customary for a pregnant queen or noblewoman to be confined in her chambers for the duration of her pregnancy shortly after it was discovered that she was expecting. The room would be kept dark with tapestries covering all but one window, and religious objects like crucifixes, icons, and rosaries would be hung up on the walls to protect both the mother and her unborn child. The article I read also stated that this environment was supposed to recreate the inside of a womb. Only women could enter these chambers whilst men, even the woman's husband, were prohibited.
Rewrite Notes: Changes abound! Several characters have been changed or introduced from Fire and Blood:
1. Ser Lammert Darklyn was replaced with Robert for the joust. Robert Darklyn was a member of the Kingsguard during the first years of the reign and regency of King Aegon III Targaryen according to Fire and Blood vol. 1.
2. Introduction of the Four Storms and their mother and grandfather.
3. Lady Johanna Westerling and her and Jason's children ( I made up the names for their three younger daughters).
4. Lady Jeyne Arryn is unmarried and childless here.
5. A canon historical figure, Owen Fossoway, replaces Mervyn.