Chapter 20: The Announcement and the Divide
As the final night of the tourney wound down, the bustling city of Lannisport grew quieter. The sounds of revelry faded into the distance, replaced by the soft rustling of leaves and the gentle whisper of the wind. In a secluded part of the forest, away from the eyes and ears of the nobility, Princess Arianne Nymeros Martell knelt by a small, ancient sept, praying to the Seven.
Arianne's dark eyes were closed, her hands clasped tightly as she whispered her prayers. As a young girl, she had been pudgy and flat-chested, and she had prayed nightly to the Seven, hoping that she would be given beauty when she was older. Now, as a blossoming young woman, her prayers had evolved, yet the earnestness with which she prayed remained the same.
"Mother, Maiden, guide me," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Grant me the strength to navigate the paths ahead, and the wisdom to make choices that honor my family and my heart."
Unbeknownst to Arianne, Prince Viserys Targaryen had followed her into the forest. Drawn by a sense of curiosity and an inexplicable pull towards her, he watched from a distance, his pale lilac eyes reflecting the moonlight. Viserys, with his classical Valyrian features—pale skin, silver-blond hair—was a striking figure against the backdrop of the dark forest.
Viserys had often been seen as a robust and healthy man, but there was an intensity in his gaze, a hint of the potential madness that lay dormant, like a dragon's flame waiting to be unleashed. Tonight, however, his focus was entirely on Arianne.
Stepping forward, Viserys made his presence known. "Arianne," he called softly.
Startled, Arianne turned, her eyes widening as she saw him. "Viserys," she breathed, a mixture of surprise and delight in her voice. "What are you doing here?"
Viserys approached her, his movements graceful and deliberate. "I saw you leave the feast and followed you. I wanted to see where you were going, what you were doing."
Arianne blushed, lowering her gaze. "I come here to pray. It helps me find peace amidst all the chaos."
Viserys smiled, a rare softness in his expression. "Peace is a rare commodity in our world. I find solace in different things—dragons, for instance. Their power, their majesty. They fascinate me."
Arianne looked up, her dark eyes meeting his pale lilac ones. "You speak of dragons often. They hold a special place in your heart, don't they?"
Viserys nodded, taking her hand in his. "They do. But lately, something else has captured my heart as well." He paused, searching her eyes for understanding. "You."
Arianne's breath caught in her throat. The sincerity in Viserys's voice, the intensity of his gaze, left her momentarily speechless. "Viserys, I..."
He gently placed a finger on her lips, silencing her. "Let me speak, Arianne. Since the day I met you, I have felt a connection, a bond that I cannot ignore. You are like a dragon—fierce, beautiful, and strong. And I find myself drawn to you; in ways I cannot fully explain."
Arianne's heart raced; her prayers answered in ways she had not anticipated. "Viserys, I feel it too. This bond, this connection. It's as if the gods themselves have woven our fates together."
Viserys leaned closer, his breath warm against her cheek. "One day, Arianne, we will be wed. I promise you this. Together, we will face whatever the future holds, and our union will be as strong and unbreakable as dragonfire."
Tears welled in Arianne's eyes, not of sorrow but of overwhelming emotion. "I believe you, Viserys. I trust you with my heart and my future."
Their faces inches apart, Viserys closed the gap, pressing his lips to hers in a kiss filled with passion and promise. The forest seemed to hold its breath, the world narrowing to just the two of them. The kiss was a seal on their unspoken pact, a vow made in the silence of the night.
When they finally parted, Arianne whispered, "Until that day, Viserys. Until we are together."
Viserys nodded, his heart swelling with a rare sense of hope. "Until that day, Arianne. And beyond."
As they left the forest, hand in hand, the future seemed a little brighter, a little more certain. The song of ice and fire continued, its next verses filled with the promise of love, unity, and the ever-turning wheels of fate. And in that moment, amidst the ancient trees and the whispered prayers, two hearts beat as one, their destinies forever intertwined.
As the lords and ladies gathered for their last night in Lannisport, King Rhaegar Targaryen stood before the assembled nobility, ready to make an announcement that would change the course of the realm.
Rhaegar's voice carried through the great hall, clear and commanding. "My lords and ladies, we have seen great feats of valor and skill over these past days. But tonight, I have an announcement that reaches beyond the tourney, into the very future of our realm."
The hall fell silent, all eyes turned to the king. Beside Rhaegar stood Eddard Stark, his expression solemn. Rhaelle Baratheon and Ashara Dayne watched from their seats, their faces composed but their eyes reflecting the gravity of the moment.
"I am pleased to announce the betrothal of my daughter, Baela Targaryen, to Jon Stark, the son of Eddard Stark and Ashara Dayne," Rhaegar declared.
A murmur rippled through the hall, punctuated by gasps and whispers. Brandon Stark, the heir to Winterfell, stood frozen in shock, his wife Catelyn beside him, her expression one of growing fury.
Brandon's shock quickly turned to anger. He turned to his wife, his eyes blazing. "Why Jon? Why not our son, Robb? He is the heir to Winterfell, the future of our house!"
Catelyn's face was a mask of cold rage. "This is an insult, Brandon. A slight against you and our family. Jon is just the son of your younger brother. This is Ashara's doing, I'm sure of it."
Across the hall, Ashara watched the unfolding scene with a sinking heart. She had anticipated resistance, but the depth of Brandon's and Catelyn's anger was palpable. Eddard, sensing the growing tension, stepped forward.
"Brandon, please. This is for the good of the realm," Eddard began, his voice calm and steady. "Jon and Baela will strengthen our ties with the Targaryen's, ensuring our future."
Brandon's eyes narrowed. "Our future? Or yours, Ned? I've always been the favorite. Is this being just a way for you are trying to overshadow me?"
Rhaegar, sensing the brewing conflict, stepped in. "Brandon, I chose Jon for reasons that go beyond immediate titles and lands. The blood of the dragon and the wolf must be united for the greater good."
Brandon shook his head, his anger not easily assuaged. "Not like this, this is a mistake, Rhaegar. A grave mistake. Our father may be ill Ned, but he will hear of this."
The announcement had unintended consequences, driving a wedge between the Starks of Winterfell and the Starks of the Wolf's Den. Brandon's anger festered, his resentment toward Eddard growing with each passing day. Catelyn's hatred for Jon, an innocent in the machinations of fate, took root and deepened.
In the following days, the division became more apparent. Eddard sought peace and understanding, but Brandon refused to listen, his jealousy and pride blinding him to the larger picture. The once unbreakable bond between the Stark brothers began to fracture.
Ashara, torn between her love for her husband and the well-being of her children, found herself in a precarious position. She knew the importance of the betrothal but also understood the pain it caused within the Stark family.
The announcement had far-reaching implications. The lords and ladies of the realm watched with keen interest as the House of Stark grappled with its internal strife. The division within one of the most powerful families in Westeros sent ripples throughout the kingdom.
Rhaegar, ever the visionary, hoped that time would heal the wounds and that the unity he sought would eventually prevail. But he knew that the road ahead would be fraught with challenges. The prophecy of the prince that was promised loomed large, and the alliance between the dragon and the wolf was crucial for the future of the realm.
As the guests departed Lannisport, the weight of the announcement lingered in the air. The tourney had concluded, but the true battle had just begun. The song of ice and fire continued, its next verses filled with tension, hope, and the ever-turning wheels of fate.