Duskendale and the Red Keep
131 AC
Duskendale was a busy port town. The docks, filthy wooden constructs that were often splattered with rotting fish guts and seagull droppings, groaned under the weight of sailors, merchants, and fisherman as they traversed to or from trade cogs and fishing boats. Fishwives hawked the day's catch as workmen carried trade goods from the ships to the market for sale. Away from the docks, the common people milled about performing their day to day tasks: a housewife emptying the family chamber pot out from the top window of her home onto the street below, a local aristocrat going to the market to purchase a pricey bauble for his paramour, a septon going to the docks to pray with sailors for safety during an upcoming voyage, and children playing in street without a care in the world. The cries of gulls, the cacophony of voices, combined with the salty scent of the sea made the town even more alive and vibrant.
Four noble families lived in Duskendale: Dargood, Darke, Darklyn, and Darkwood. House Darklyn ruled over the thriving port town from their mighty stronghold the Dun Fort. In times long past, the Darklyn's were kings who fought for dominance over the Crownlands, and were once conquered by the Storm King Monfryd the Mighty. Even after later subjugation by the Andals during the Andal Invasion, the Darklyn's retained their power to as faraway as Crackclaw Point, although the denizens there resisted their rule and pushed them out. After Aegon's Conquest, House Darklyn of Duskendale swore allegiance to the Targaryen's, becoming one of their most loyal allies.
House Darklyn proved their newfound loyalty to the Targaryen's in 10 AC. That year, after King Aegon I and Queen Visenya Targaryen narrowly avoided death at the hands of Dornish assassins during the First Dornish War, the warrior queen realized that the combined martial prowess of both herself and her brother-husband was not enough to protect themselves from harm. In response to this revelation, Visenya founded the Kingsguard. One of the first members of this esteemed order was Ser Robin Darklyn, who was also known as "Darkrobin". After him, four more Darklyn men would swear oaths to the Iron Throne and become Kingsguard knights.
Sers Davos and Rolland Darklyn served and died during the reign of Aegon and Visenya's son, Maegor I. Rolland was the youngest ever knight to enter the ranks of the Kingsguard at the age of sixteen. An hour after he was sworn in, Ser Rolland was slain on the battlefield. Ser Davos was later slain by Ser Qarl Corbray during the Battle Beneath the God's Eye in 43 AC. In 88 AC, forty-five years after Davos's death, Ser Steffon Darklyn became a Kingsguard knight during the reign of King Jaehaerys I Targaryen at the age of seventeen.
And now, there was a Ser Robert Darklyn serving alongside Lord Commander Steffon. To honor these men, House Darklyn's heraldry possessed a vertical red bar that proudly bore five solid white shields, one for each Kingsguard knight who was a Darklyn. From kings to royal knights, House Darklyn's history was a glorious and bloody saga, and the Darklyn children were taught their family's history from an early age to instill them with pride for their house. And there was none more well versed with this knowledge than Lady Myrine Darklyn. At the tender age of six, Myrine was a prodigy.
She loved to read, her favorite subjects being history and birds. For hours on end, the girl would sit in the Dun Fort's library reading books about subjects that seemed a little too advanced for someone her age; the Dun Fort's rookery was Myrine's other favorite place. Myrine's penchant for reading wasn't exactly embraced by her family however. The Dun Fort's septon had often warned Myrine that girls could get sick from reading too much. He would bolster his claim by saying that the Father had created education to be the tool of the stronger sex, men, while it was to be off limits to women due to the "damage" it could do their "delicate" minds.
Myrine did not understand why the septon was so against her learning. What was so harmful about her reading about the migratory patterns of birds or the history of the Valyrian Freehold? Learning these things did not harm Myrine's mind, they enriched it. Septas were knowledgeable women, and if Myrine was a little older and more confident, she would remind the septon of that. Thankfully the rest of her family and household were not as conservative and narrow-minded as the priest.
Myrine was Maester Caldon's best pupil, and the envy of her siblings and cousins. She was also his favorite due to her very quiet nature and politeness. Despite these positive aspects, Myrine did have some difficulties. She had difficulty retaining eye contact with people, could not do anything new on her own; she had to have people help guide her through, and she was very sensitive to textures like scratchy wool, wood that wasn't lacquered, and even the cobblestones that paved Duskendale's streets. Myrine's mother, Lady Meredyth Massey, vividly remembered during her daughter's infancy when she would coo at the smooth stone floor of her nursery, and cry and howl when she touched the stiff fabrics of the Myrish carpet in her father's study when she was placed upon it.
Thank the Seven above when Myrine outgrew some of her touch sensitivity, but some of it lingered. For example, she could not wear leather sandals because of how easily she could feel what was beneath her feet with them. Myrine was also not keen about any changes in her daily routine. She did not like being interrupted when she was reading, when she wanted to be alone, and even a change in the main course for dinner bothered Myrine. Her social issues concerned her parents, particularly her mother.
The Lady of Duskendale did not like how socially inhibited her daughter was, and she tried to "break" Myrine from it. Meredyth had Myrine attend many etiquette lessons that were taught by old, impatient septas, and would often try to force her daughter into situations that made her uncomfortable. For example, when Myrine was four years old, Meredyth once forced her daughter to stand on the same Myrish rug in Gunthor's study with two septas holding onto her so that she could not run away, and telling Myrine that the only way she was going to be let go was if she walked across the rug. The rug fibers felt like a field of needles that stabbed the soft soles of Myrine's feet.* Sobbing from the pain, Myrine was only capable of taking five steps on the rug before Meredyth, wracked with remorse, ordered the septas to let her daughter go.
After this incident, Myrine was afraid of her mother. She would hide whenever her mother would approach, and she would resist any of Meredyth's attempts to hold her. While distant with her mother, Myrine was close with her father, Gunthor, who's parenting was not as strict or relentless as his wife's, and he preferred to coddle Myrine instead. The Lord and Lady of Duskendale had five children altogether, with Myrine being their second daughter and fourth born child. Their other children were Rodrik, Jenefer, Wyllis, and Connor.
Connor was two years younger than Myrine, and he was her constant companion. When he would see his big sister, Connor would tail after her on his tiny feet, asking her to play with him or read to him. Myrine would happily do both and during the recent warmer years, she would read to Connor under a tree in the Dun Fort's garden. Her little brother particularly liked stories from the Age of Heroes, and Myrine would regale him with the mythical exploits of Symeon Star-Eyes, Bran the Builder, and Lann the Clever. Connor loved the story about Symeon, and he wanted to be like him, to which his sister would remind him that the reason why the man was known as "Star-Eyes" was because he had lost both his eyes, and that he replaced them with star sapphires.
And now, both Myrine and Connor were in the former's bedchamber, sitting in front of the fireplace. Myrine was reading another Age of Heroes legend to her little brother. Today's legend was about the Grey King, the legendary founder of the houses of the Iron Isles. She had just gotten to the part where the Grey King had slain the sea dragon Nagga, a frightening aquatic beast who feasted on krakens and leviathans, and could submerge islands when enraged.
"After the fearsome Nagga had been felled by the Grey King's sword, the dragon's bones turned to stone." Myrine read clearly. "After his victory on the shores of Old Wyck, the Grey King set about building his home from the fallen Nagga's remains. From her great jaws did the Grey King craft his throne, her teeth became his crown, the bones became the hall's pillars and beams, and her still living fire was used to warm the hall."
Connor was in awe of the description his sister had provided of the Grey King's Hall, and he wished that the Dun Fort had been made from the remains of a great beast. Myrine continued.
"With his hall complete, the Grey King's next goal was to find a wife. But no mortal woman would be the Grey King's queen, for he wed a mermaid. The children born from their union could live on both the land and in the sea."
As Myrine was getting to the part where the Grey King crafted the Driftwood Crown, a knock on the door distracted her. Both she and her brother looked up to hear who their unexpected visitor was. A familiar voice muffled by the wooden door was heard. The speaker was Henry, one of Myrine and Connor's numerous cousins. He was the youngest son of their Uncle Jon.
"I am sorry to disturb you, Myrine, but may I come in?"
Myrine was bothered by this interruption, even though it was from a cherished relative. She really wanted to continue reading to Connor. While his sister was annoyed, Connor seemed both curious and happy by their cousin's visit.
"Henry! Henry!" The four year old exclaimed happily. Seeing her little brother's happiness soothed Myrine's irritation and she granted her cousin entry with a simple yes. When Henry entered, he was greeted by a big hug by his little cousin.
Both Myrine and Connor's older brothers, Rodrik and Wyllis, were being fostered away from home at Rook's Rest and Rosby respectively, Connor looked up to his male cousins as big brothers, with Henry being his favorite. Myrine felt a twinge of jealousy at the sight, but she suppressed it. She attempted to be cordial.
"Did you come here to listen to the story?" She asked.
"No," Henry said as he patted Connor's back, "but it is about you. Your father would like to see you straight away. It's about something important."
"Really?" Myrine asked. This was interesting. What could be so important that it involved her? Her father was the Lord of Duskendale, he had to run both his house and the port town they all lived in. Her father's summons truly intrigued the six year old girl.
When Connor released his ten year old cousin, Henry spoke again.
"I will take you to him, Myrine. Follow me. Here, take my hand, Connor."
Myrine followed behind her cousin and little brother from her bedroom and into the hallway. Her father's study was not too far away, with Myrine's slow pace it took a little longer. Her fine leather shoes kept her feet warm, but she could feel the small ledges and grooves on the stone that had been created by water and wind before the rock had been cut out of a quarry and carved into flagstones. This felt nice on her feet. It was better than cobblestones, whose roundness hurt the soles of her feet.
The three eventually made it to the Lord of Duskendale's study. Henry knocked on the door.
"Uncle Gunthor, I brought Myrine like you asked."
"Good boy, Henry." Myrine's father answered from behind the door. "Now be a good lad and open the door for her. Remember that part from the Code of Chivalry that involves being courteous to women correct?"
Realizing what he had done, Henry became beet red, squeaked out an apology, and opened the door for his cousin. Gunthor was sitting behind his desk inside.
"That's better." he said. "Now you can go."
"Thank you, uncle." Henry said sheepishly. Before he left, Henry had one last question to ask his uncle. "Can Connor come train with me and my brothers? I will be gentle with him, I promise."
Myrine gave her cousin a shocked look. She did not want her darling little brother to train yet. He was too young, he could get hurt. But her father thought otherwise, for he granted his nephew permission to take his youngest son with him. With that, Henry, with Connor in hand, raced down the hallway excitedly to the training yard. Gunthor shook his head at the boys' antics.
He then turned his attention to his daughter.
"Come here, Myrine." He said, gesturing by waving his hand towards himself.
Myrine obediently did as told. Her father's study was impressive. There was a large white limestone fireplace that was embossed with the faces of Darklyn kings from ages past, and above the mantelpiece hung a shield bearing the Darklyn heraldry with two swords crossed underneath it; two suits of armor dating from before the Andal Invasion were mounted across from each other from the walls closest to the door, a large tapestry depicting the Maiden presenting King Hugor of the Hill with the woman who was to become both his wife and the mother of his forty-four sons; a sharp contrast from the martial decorations that dotted the room. It had been part Myrine's mother's dowry. Supposedly the imagery was supposed to convey the fertility of Lady Meredyth Massey, who was also her husband's third cousin, and that hopefully she would give Gunthor many sons.
Passing by the roaring fire, and around the Myrish carpet that was the source of so much pain for her, Myrine was about to sit on one of the chairs when her father told her otherwise.
"No, sweetling. Come sit on my lap."
Myrine did as told, and she rounded the desk and made herself comfortable on her father's lap. Gunthor wrapped his arms around his youngest daughter, making her feel safe and warm. Gunthor was a handsome man with black hair (that was starting to turn silver) and grey eyes; classic Darklyn looks. Myrine had her house's grey eyes, but long, straight brown hair like her mother. She was a pretty thing.
When Myrine was settled, Gunthor spoke to her.
"Do you have an inkling as to why I wanted to see you, my sweet?"
Myrine shook her head. "No." She said softly. Gunthor smiled softly, and with his free left hand, he dragged over a scroll that was laying on the desk. He pointed to the broken wax seal.
"Can you see the sigil on that seal, Myrine?"
Myrine leaned forward and squinted at it. From the soft light peering through the paneled glass windows, Myrine could make out the wings and three heads of the Targaryen dragon. Myrine's eyes widened when she realized what it was.
"This is from the royal family?" She asked.
"Yes." Gunthor answered. With his right arm wrapped around his daughter, Horace managed to reach around her to unroll the scroll with his left hand. To hold it down, he placed a full silver ink pot and the small knife he used to shape the tips of quills so that they could be used for writing on the left corners of the parchment. Myrine was intrigued by the florid writing font that was present on the parchment.
"Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen herself wrote this, my dear." Gunthor said. Myrine was in awe of this fact. She touched the parchment, the same material that a queen had touched and written upon. Every tail, curve, and straight line that made up the letters of the document had all been penned by the ruling monarch of Westeros.
"Can you read it, my dear?" Gunthor asked.
Myrine nodded. She knew most of the words, and she stopped when she came across the word 'betrothal'. Myrine had recently learned that word when her father had announced that her older sister, Jenefer, was betrothed to Amos Bracken, the heir to Stone Hedge, earlier the previous year. When she tentatively asked her mother what that meant, Meredyth told her daughter that Jenefer was going to marry Lord Bracken sometime in the near future. But here in the queen's letter, Myrine saw her name after the word 'betrothal', and after that, the name of Prince Viserys Targaryen.
"I am… to be married?" Myrine asked, fear slowly creeping up inside of her. The Lady of Duskendale had also told Myrine that getting married also meant that Jenefer was not going to be living at the Dun Fort anymore, just like how their mother had moved from Stonedance to live with her husband and his family. Myrine did not want to leave her home, it was were she was born and raised, it was where her family was. Upset, and on the verge of hysteria, Myrine turned to her father.
"Please don't send me away, papa! Please! Please!" She begged.
Gunthor felt that this was going to be his child's reaction to the news. She never took to new things very well. All he could do was hold Myrine close as she began to cry.
"There, there, Myrine…" he said, patting her head. "I know that this is hard for you." Feeling his daughter's tears seeping through the fabric of his tunic, Lord Darklyn procured a handkerchief from a drawer in his desk. "Here, let me see your face." he said.
Myrine's face was red and puffy, streaked with glistening tear trails, and a small stream of snot flowing out of her nose. With a fatherly gentleness, Gunthor dabbed Myrine's eyes and cheeks dry, before commanding her to blow her nose into the handkerchief and cleaning her nose. Seeing that his daughter was a little calmer, Gunthor gently rubbed her arm and continued speaking with a reassuring, fatherly tone. If it had not been for this once in a lifetime betrothal, Gunthor would have been more than happy to send his youngest daughter to a nunnery. A motherhouse would be paradise for Myrine with its silence and books.
"Like I was saying earlier," Gunthor resumed, "this is understandably very difficult for you, Myrine. But this is something to be very happy about." Myrine looked at her father with a long face and red, puffy eyes. "For over a century, House Darklyn has sent sons to become Kingsguard knights, and now, thanks to your Great-Uncle Steffon, we shall send a daughter to become the wife of a Targaryen prince! You will be the first for our House, Myrine.
It is a great honor that the queen has offered us this match between you and her youngest son. He is only two years older than you, my dear. It will not be that bad. Please be happy, this is wonderful news."
Myrine tried to be happy but could not. It was easy for her father to say such things, he was not the one who was going to be sent away to marry someone he had never met. But Myrine loved her father, and she wanted him to be happy, so she attempted to smile. She managed to work up a small one, which pleased Gunthor, and he gave her a kiss on her cheek. But no matter how much her father reassured her, Myrine's fear remained, and it was like a building ball of pressure in her stomach.
When the news of the engagement was announced to the rest of the family that night, the internal pressure increased as Myrine was showered with congratulations and praise. All of these people were so happy to see her go. She dearly wished that someone, anyone, would object to the engagement. But her family shared her father's sentiments, and thus Myrine felt alone even amongst a sea of familiar faces. How she wanted to escape and venture into the worlds she created from the books she had read, even to one where Nagga existed seemed preferable to the reality she was currently living in.
The next day, a raven arrived in response to Gunthor's letter bearing a statement regarding his acceptance of the Darklyn-Targaryen betrothal. The royal letter stated the queen's pleasure for the Lord of Duskendale's acceptance of the match between his second born daughter to Rhaenyra's fifth born son, and that a ship from King's Landing would be coming to Duskendale to collect Myrine. Neither her father nor her mother would be going with her. Instead, Myrine's grandaunt, Septa Cecilia, would accompany her young grandniece to King's Landing, and would oversee her education at the Red Keep. In lieu of her parents, Myrine was going to be looked after by Septa Cecilia and both her maternal grandparents, Lord Gormon Massey and Lady Josephine Darklyn, and her aunt, Lady Elinda Massey.
During the week before the arrival of the royal ship, Lady Massey (gently) began spending more time with her daughter to hone her etiquette and social skills. Before the week was up, under her mother's tutelage, Myrine had perfected curtsying, posture, and manners; both table and general. However, eye contact remained a bit of a problem. Whenever a stranger tried conversing with Myrine, she would look away. She had gradually learned to look her family members in the eye, and the Lady of Duskendale hoped and prayed that Myrine would thrive at the royal court, something she prayed for every night before she went to bed.
The night before her departure for the capital, a glorious feast was held in Myrine's honor. Houses Dargood, Darke, Darkwood, and Hollard, who lived northeast of Duskendale, including the city's rich merchant families were invited to the Dun Fort to celebrate Myrine's last night at home and to congratulate her on being betrothed to Prince Viserys Targaryen. Besides congratulatory toasts, Myrine was also the receiver of many fine gifts from the guests, gifts like dresses made from silk and decorated with intricate lacework and jewels, prayer books, hand mirrors, and some toys. Myrine was overwhelmed by the jubilant atmosphere, and she barely touched a thing on her plate. When she went to bed that night, her heart was beating fast with some excitement, for tomorrow was the dawn of a new beginning for the six year old girl.
Little Connor slept with his big sister that night. He drifted off to sleep in Myrine's arms as she rubbed his head. It took some time for her to go asleep, and when she did, Myrine gave her little brother a kiss on his forehead and held him close. She never knew when she would be able to hold him again. Myrine wished that the night would never end.
Sadly for Myrine, morning came. She rose early and had one last breakfast with her family. After all of her belongings had been packed, both she and her family boarded wheelhouses and were driven down to the docks. The journey was made in silence, and both Meredyth and Myrine stared out the window. Gunthor simply stared off into space.
When the wheelhouses slowed to a stop, it felt like Myrine's heart would stop as well. The door opened, and the Lord and Lady of Duskendale exited the wheelhouse with Myrine and Connor in tow.
"Come here, Connor." Gunthor said, and he scooped up his youngest son into his arms. Holding Connor with his right arm, Gunthor took hold of Myrine's right hand with his left. Meredyth took her daughter's left hand into her right; both parents gave Myrine's hands a reassuring squeeze.
"Let's go now, darling." Meredyth said softly, her voice trembling slightly. Myrine was confused by the emotion her usually cool-headed mother was displaying. Following behind Myrine and her parents was her older sister, Jenefer, and their uncles, aunts, and cousins. The ship loomed before everyone, and it felt like the Titan of Braavos to Myrine. Septa Cecilia stood before the gangplank, patiently waiting to escort Myrine onto the ship as the girl said her good-byes to her family.
It was a bittersweet moment. Meredyth cried while Gunthor tried to hold back his tears, and Connor remained by his sister's side after hugging her, and he followed her as she was embraced by the rest of her family. When it was time for her board her ship, little Connor followed Myrine until his mother took hold of his arm.
"No, sweetling, you cannot go with her. I am sorry." Meredyth said gently to her youngest child. Connor began to fight his mother's hold.
"No! I want Mywee! Mywee!" The little boy whined. His hold on his sister's hand increased, and Myrine found it hard to continue with her little brother holding onto her, and her mother tugging on him to let go. Meredyth was able to get Connor to let go of his sister's hand, but he wailed and struggled after his hand had slipped from Myrine's. As Lady Massey tried to comfort her son, Gunthor urged his aunt to take Myrine and go, which she did.
From the starboard side, Myrine watched as a servant took Connor from his mother and brought him into the wheelhouse to be comforted, his wailing becoming muffled within the carriage. After the anchor was pulled up, and the ship began to sail away, Myrine watched as her family waved good-bye to her. She too waved back to them, her eyes filling with tears. Despite it all, Myrine kept her posture and she continued to wave. She kept waving until her family members were just specks on the horizon.
For most of the journey, Myrine remained in her quarters with her grandaunt; only coming out on deck a few times a day to get fresh air. The journey was not a long one, but it felt long to Myrine. When King's Landing was sighted, Myrine noticed that another ship was sailing into Blackwater Bay. Upon closer inspection, Myrine saw that the ship had a flag bearing the heraldry of House Celtigar: red crabs on a white field. Myrine had learned that there were two other fiancées due to arrive at the Red Keep, and it appeared that she was going to meet one of them.
Waiting for her at the docks were her granduncle, Lord Commander Steffon; her second cousin, Ser Robert; her distant cousin, Ser Harrold Darke,; her Aunt Elinda, and her grandparents, Gormon Massey and Josephine Darklyn, the Lord and Lady of Stonedance. When the ship finally reached the docks, along with the Celtigar ship, Myrine and Septa Cecilia disembarked. Josephine was the first to greet her granddaughter.
"Welcome to King's Landing, my dear." She said kindly and she embraced Myrine. Josephine had long black hair that was streaked with silver and was tied in a braided bun that was covered with a veil. The Lady of Stonedance was the mother of ten children, and her body was obese as a result of those pregnancies. From what Grandaunt Cecilia had told Myrine, Josephine only had seven living children, having lost three of them when they were young to illness: two boys and one girl.
Her grandmother's embrace was a tight one, and Myrine was unable to wrap her arms entirely around Lady Darklyn's great bulk. It was still a good way to be introduced to her new home though. After she had been released, and had regained her breath, Myrine received a similar greeting from her grandfather and aunt. Ser Steffon Darklyn's greeting was more formal.
"Welcome to King's Landing, Myrine." He said, "We have been happily anticipating your arrival."
Those words made Myrine feel good, and she ducked her head and began looking around. Seeing this, Septa Cecilia placed her hand on Myrine's back and whispered, "Look up, dear. Do not look away."
Myrine did as told, and she managed to hold her gaze on her granduncle. She curtsied, causing her great-aunt to smile proudly.
"It is…" Myrine struggled over the words, "a pleasure to meet you." She said, conquering her shyness. Myrine felt proud of herself. Curious about the Celtigar ship, Myrine turned to see who the other newcomers were. The pretty girl had disembarked from that ship looked in Myrine's direction, and she quickly turned her face away. It was then, thankfully, that Steffon then gestured to the wheelhouses.
"We should get going. You have to meet the queen and her family."
Myrine became anxious at the thought of meeting the queen, and was more than happy to take her grandmother's offered hand. She traveled with both her grandparents and aunt. Shortly after departing for the Red Keep, Myrine asked her family this question.
"How many people will be in the throne room?"
"A good deal." Gormon said, and Myrine tensed up. Seeing this, Josephine began trying to reassure her granddaughter. "It will just be courtiers, the queen's small council, the queen and her family. It will be alright, my sweet."
"Oh." Was all Myrine could say. Then she thought of something.
"What is Prince Viserys like?" She asked.
"He is a sweet boy." Aunt Elinda interjected before her mother could speak. "He can be quite mischievous with his cousin's and older brother, but other than that, he is quite mature for his age. You will like him, Myrine."
"I see." was all Myrine could say. Soon, the wheelhouse reached the Red Keep gates. Septa Cecilia and Josephine helped Myrine out of the wheelhouse. Myrine was in awe of her surroundings. The courtyard was so much bigger than the one at the Dun Fort, maybe even larger than the market at Duskendale itself.
There was a smithy, stables, guardhouses, and so many other things that Myrine wanted to see but could not at the moment. Soon, the three Queensguard knights dismounted from their horses and approached the family.
"Had a good journey, my lord and ladies?" Ser Steffon asked and everyone said yes. The knight then looked at Myrine. "Are you ready to meet the queen, Myrine?"
The girl nodded, her anxiety climbing. Then, a man wearing Targaryen livery stepped outside from the castle.
"My lords and ladies, on behalf of her grace, Queen Rhaenyra I Targaryen, I, her royal steward, thank you all for coming. The queen wishes to see you all now. Follow me."
Sandwiched between her chaperones, Myrine was led into the Red Keep. She marveled at the architecture both outside and inside. She could not help but think of the workmen who had laid down every stone, set up every door, and slathered mortar onto every building block. During the reigns of the first three Targaryen kings, there was scaffolding wrapped the growing walls, the sound of hammers and chisels shaping stone, orders being barked out by construction foremen, and horses neighing as they brought in wagons full of stone, construction material, and more workers. Even though the builders were long gone and buried beneath the Red Keep itself courtesy of King Maegor the Cruel, their legacy (and grave) remained, and it was a magnificent testimony to their hard work and craftsmanship.
But instead of busy workers, the throne room was filled with curious courtiers. Myrine tensed when the the din of trumpets resounded, and the doors to the throne room were opened, and the crier announced their presence to everyone at the royal court. She held on to the hands of Josephine and Cecilia tightly as they all walked on the long red carpet that led up to the Iron Throne. Myrine could feel the eyes of the royal court upon both her and Lady Thea Celtigar as they walked down towards the Iron Throne. But no gaze felt more powerful than that of Queen Rhaenyra I Targaryen's.
When Myrine could muster up the strength to look at the queen, she could feel the regal power that emanated from her. If Myrine had not looked, she could have sworn that she was in the presence of an actual dragon. The blood of Old Valyria flowed through Rhaenyra's veins, even though technically she was one quarter Valeman from her mother's side of the family. Though dragons were far more fearsome, Myrine knew that falcons were fierce creatures in their own right. They had talons with which they could claw the face of some fool who dared to invade their nest, and sharp beaks that could pluck out eyes just as easily as removing entrails from the soft belly of a dormouse.
Even though she knew that the queen could not breathe fire or pluck out her eyes (she could always get the torturer to do that for her), Myrine still felt intimidated by Rhaenyra's very presence. After the Darklyn's and Celtigar's had stopped to bow before the queen, Rhaenyra spoke.
"Ladies Thea Celtigar and Myrine Darklyn, come forward."
Myrine and her chaperones began to walk towards the throne when the queen stated that she only wanted the two girls to walk up instead. Myrine's heart felt as if it were going to pop out of her chest. She became so nervous, and everything her mother had taught her about royal etiquette began to slip away.
"Go on, Myrine." Septa Cecilia encouraged, but Myrine found that her feet had seemingly become frozen to the floor, and she was unable to move. She could hear her grandparents and aunt offering encouragement as well, but she could do nothing but stand there. With people staring at her, and Cecilia, Gormon, Josephine, and Elinda trying to get her to move, Myrine simply shut her eyes tightly and tried to escape from her current predicament.
"You have got to move! Move!" Myrine could hear herself say. But what if she floundered? She would embarrass not just herself, but also her entire family.
House Darklyn of Duskendale would become a laughing stock famous for the fragile and strange Myrine. As these thoughts clouded her mind, a soft voice pierced through them.
"Myrine, dear…" Josephine said.
Myrine opened her eyes to see Thea standing in front of her. She was three years older than Myrine and she was beautiful. She had long, thick, curly straw blonde hair, lilac eyes, and pale skin with a freckled face. This girl obviously had Valyrian ancestry. Thea offered out her hand to Myrine.
"Take my hand. We can walk up together. Would you like that?" Thea softly asked.
On the verge of tears, but finding strength in Thea's kindness, Myrine reached out and gingerly took her hand. Silently, she was released by her chaperones, and both Myrine and Thea made their way towards the Iron Throne together. Myrine's anxiety calmed down, her tears disappeared before they could even fall, and she walked with more confidence. She could sense the queen's scrutiny against her, and Myrine promised herself that it would not happen again. The two stopped when the queen held her hand up and told them that they were close enough.
As the queen introduced her family, Myrine witnessed an example of her future husband's mischievousness.
"Aegon, isn't that the girl you saw during mother's coronation tourney? You know, the one you turned so red at?"
"Viserys!" Aegon shouted.
Myrine looked at Thea to see her purple eyes widen with a mixture of surprise and bemusement. Both girls were even more startled when they saw the prince attempt to strike his younger brother, but the menacing voice of their mother put an end to that. Later after that, everyone was dismissed. Before Thea left, Myrine expressed her gratitude for what she had done for her earlier.
"Thank you." She said, and she scuttled off to her family before Thea could reply back. The Massey's took Myrine to her room, and she relaxed on her bed. Before long, the girl drifted off into sleep. Her nap did not last for too long, for Elinda eventually shook Myrine awake.
"Sorry to wake you up, sweetling." Aunt Elinda said. "But you have to meet Prince Viserys now. Let's brush your hair first before we go."
Myrine nodded and after her aunt had brushed her hair, she took Myrine to see her fiancé. To the great delight of Elinda's niece, the meeting place was at the royal library. Shelves full of rare scrolls, manuscripts, and tomes greeted the knowledge hungry girl, and her heart skipped with joy at the thought of reading them. Elinda led Myrine through an aisle towards a table by a series of long windows. Sitting at the table was Viserys.
Seeing her aunt curtsying, Myrine followed suit.
"Prince Viserys," Elinda began, "here is your fiancée, my niece, Lady Myrine Darklyn."
Myrine blushed when the handsome Viserys looked her way. The prince simply nodded and spoke.
"I see, Lady Massey. My mother had told me that you were going to bring her here."
Myrine was impressed with her fiancé's tone, he sounded so mature. Such a stark contrast from the little boy who had teased his older brother earlier in the throne room. It was just like what Aunt Elinda had told her in the wheelhouse. Lady Massey curtsied again.
"I shall leave you two alone then. I believe that Grandmaester Gerardys is here. He will help you two if any of you need anything." Elinda laid a hand on Myrine's shoulder and gave it a gentle, reassuring squeeze before turning to leave. Myrine watched her aunt leave and shut the door behind her, the sound of the door closing reverberating loudly throughout the library.
Turning her attention back towards Viserys, who was looking at her with bored indifference, Myrine became rooted to the floor. However, she willed herself to move, and she did. She briskly made her way to the chair on Viserys's left, and she made herself comfortable. At first, nothing was said between them. Viserys was staring at his hands on his lap, while Myrine looked on.
Clearly he wished he was somewhere else, and the feeling was mutual with Myrine. But neither of them had a say in their current situations. Realizing that they had something in common, Myrine attempted to speak.
"Ummm…" she began, causing Viserys to look up from his lap. "Uhh…" she searched for words, anything to say to her fiancé, who was now looking at her expectantly.
"Do not be so nervous." Viserys said suddenly, relieving Myrine of the pressure of speaking first. "Forgive me for not talking. It was rude of me, and I apologize."
"Apology accepted." Myrine replied back quickly. A short silence followed before Viserys spoke again.
"Do you want to know why we are meeting together at the library?" He asked, to which Myrine shook her head.
"Well," Viserys began, "your aunt told me that you love books. It was my idea to meet you here."
Myrine was amazed by Viserys's thoughtfulness.
"Thank you, my lord." She said. "That was… most kind of you."
Viserys smiled bashfully. "So," he started up again, "what do you like to read?"
"Many things." Myrine began, a surge of excitement steadily growing within her, the kind of excitement one finds when they meet someone who shares the same interests as they do. "But I like reading about history and birds the most."
"How interesting," Viserys said, "but why birds?"
"I don't know." Myrine murmured. "They are just very fascinating to me. They can fly and sing, and no matter what species they are, birds always look beautiful."
"What about vultures?" Viserys asked with a disgusted look. "They look so ugly."
"Well not all of them are beautiful." Myrine replied. "But they all serve a unique purpose. Vultures feed on carrion so that it does not just rot away. They get rid of animal corpses so that they do not foul up the land."
"Impressive." Viserys replied. "Now about history. What is your favorite subject?"
"The Valyrian Freehold." She said confidently. "I can name all of your ancestors from Aenar the Exile to Aegon the Conqueror." She stated proudly.
"Really now?" Viserys said, raising an eyebrow. "Prove it."
Leaning back against her chair, Myrine smiled proudly and she began to list off the pre-dynastic ancestors of her fiancé's house. "Aenar the Exile and his two children, Gaemon the Glorious and Daenys the Dreamer. Gaemon and Daenys had three children together: Aegon and Elaena, and an unnamed daughter who later married a petty lord. Aegon and Elaena later married and had two sons together, Maegon and Aerys. Lord Aerys would later have three sons of his own: Aelyx, Baelon, and Daemion.
Lord Daemion was the father of Aerion, and may have been the uncle of his son's wife, Valaena Velaryon. Together, Aerion and Valaena would have Visenya, Aegon I, and Rhaenys. And as we all know, Aegon I would be the last Lord of Dragonstone and the first Targaryen king."
Myrine paused to take a breath before continuing while Viserys looked on with a look of complete surprise on his face.
"You most likely have more ancestors than that, but their names have been lost to time. But those are all of your ancestors from after the Doom of Valyria to before Aegon's Conquest." Myrine said with a big grin.
Blinking in disbelief, Viserys called out for Grandmaester Gerardys. The old man came running at the young prince's call.
"Yes, my lord?" he asked breathlessly.
"Please find the scroll that details my family tree from after the Doom."
Gerardys went looking for the scroll, and just a minute later, he came back with it. He laid it down in front of the prince, and Viserys began scanning the family tree in earnest. Myrine took great pleasure in watching Viserys's reaction change from determination to awe once he realized that his fiancée was right. She did not miss a single ancestor. Viserys looked up from the scroll at Myrine and back to the scroll again, while Gerardys observed with a confused gaze.
Viserys came up with another challenge for Myrine. "Name all of my great-great-grandparents thirteen children."
"Alright." Myrine said cheerfully. "Aegon, Daenerys, Aemon, Baelon, Alyssa, Maegelle, Vaegon, Daella, Saera, Viserra, Gaemon, Valerion, and Gael."
Viserys looked at the gobsmacked Gerardys for confirmation.
"Gerardys? Is she correct?" He asked with some trepidation. It appeared that the old man did not hear him, and the prince had to repeat himself.
"Yes, she is correct." He finally said. "And they are all in the correct order of birth too."
Myrine beamed at her victory. However, the intrigued Viserys was not done yet.
"Now name all of my ancestors after the Conqueror!"
Smiling, Myrine once more amazed her fiancé and the Grandmaester with her detailed memory. Little by little, Myrine grew more and more confident. It was a rough start, but she began believing that there was still hope that the Red Keep could become her home, and the people within, her family. Her heart ached for her family back at Duskendale, but her pain began to fade somewhat. That night, she slept peacefully for the first time since she first learned about her betrothal.
A week after both Thea and Myrine had arrived at the Red Keep, Prince Joffrey Velaryon's entourage returned from the Reach with his wife, Lady Nell Beesbury. Just like her two younger counterparts, Nell was stared down by her mother-in-law from the Iron Throne. After passing this test, Nell and Joffrey were married again in the Red Keep's chapel. Both Thea and Myrine thought that Nell looked beautiful in her white and gold gown, and they thought that Nell and Joff looked cute together. Dreams of royal weddings began to dance in Thea and Myrine's minds when they watched the prince and his wife kiss, and seeing their smiling faces as they walked down the aisle together hand in hand.
* Asperger's Touch Sensitivity: Based off of something my mother told me about my childhood. I used to hate wearing long sleeved shirts because apparently, according to my mother, it was "painful." I do not remember that pain though.
Rewrite Notes: Lot's of changes for House Darklyn here!
1. In the original chapter, Myrine's parents were Lord Horace Darklyn and Lady Anise Stokeworth. In the timeline that I have created, and will probably publish whenever this story is finished, Horace and Anise have been retconned as Myrine's paternal grandparents (taking the place of Lord Kreon Darklyn and Lady Rhiannon Westerling). Likewise, Lord Gormon Massey and Lady Josephine Darklyn have become her maternal grandparents, whereas the original pair were Lord Ambrose Stokeworth and Lady Felicia Westerling.
2. Myrine's Uncle Henry has been renamed, as have her cousins.
3. The order of birth of Jaehaerys I and Alysanne's thirteen children were changed in FaB. Prince Aeryn has been replaced with Princess Daenerys.
4. Ser Steffon Darklyn was originally the older half-brother of twins Horace and Henry, here, he is Gunthor's uncle.