Chapter 361: The Great Wedding

In the soft glow of dawn, Daenerys descended the Great Pyramid.

She wore a pure white silk gown cinched at the waist with a pearl-studded ribbon. Her silver-gold hair was styled in the traditional noblewoman's braid of Westeros.

The newly appointed Green Grace had suggested that the Dragon Queen wear a Ghiscari-style tokar to her wedding ceremony at the Temple of the Graces, but Samwell had firmly refused.

Daenerys herself despised the tokar. However, with fine Westerosi court dresses being scarce in Slaver's Bay, she had to make do with the simple white gown.

The base level of the Great Pyramid was always dim, its thick walls insulating it from the noise and heat of the streets.

The wedding procession had already assembled. Since Daenerys had "married" just a few days earlier during the failed attempt to wed Hizdahr zo Loraq, the attendants now approached their duties with practiced ease.

With the assistance of Ser Barristan Selmy, Daenerys climbed into her palanquin. As she did, the old knight quietly reported:

"Your Grace, Prince Quentyn of Dorne passed away last night."

Daenerys was mildly surprised that the prince had managed to hold on for so long, but given his burns, death was likely a mercy.

"Do not make it difficult for them. Let Quentyn's body be returned to Dorne," she said, thinking to herself, Soon, I too shall leave this place.

"As you wish." Ser Barristan hesitated, clearly having more to say.

Daenerys could guess his thoughts. The old knight disapproved of her marriage to Samwell. Jorah Mormont had similar reservations, though his were more personal.

To avoid any potential disruptions, Daenerys had sent Jorah to guard the city gates early that morning.

Barristan, however, was driven by his unwavering devotion to Targaryen lineage. He hoped to see Daenerys claim the Iron Throne herself.

But after witnessing the chaos of Yunkai and Meereen, Daenerys had lost faith in her ability to rule.

"Your Grace…"

"Forgive me, Ser Barristan, for disappointing you," she interrupted gently.

The two exchanged a long look before the old knight finally relented. Having spent so many years as a Kingsguard, Barristan was accustomed to serving silently in the shadows. Advising a monarch was already a step beyond his comfort zone, and Daenerys's determined gaze left him no choice but to bow his head in resignation.

The gates of the pyramid opened, and the procession stepped into the sunlight.

Above them, the black dragon Drogon descended from the pyramid's peak, circling the procession to shield Daenerys from the scorching sun.

The road to the Temple of the Graces was lined with throngs of Meereenese citizens cheering enthusiastically for their beautiful queen. Even the restoration of slavery had not diminished their love for the Dragon Queen.

Daenerys waved gracefully to the crowd from her palanquin, but guilt and self-reproach weighed heavily on her heart.

I will return one day, she promised silently.

The procession wound its way through Meereen until the golden dome of the Temple of the Graces appeared ahead, gleaming in the sunlight. Above, the white dragon Cleopatrya circled before swooping down to greet them, her powerful wings sending gusts of heated air across the square.

The Green Grace awaited at the temple entrance, surrounded by her sisters in robes of white, red, blue, and other hues.

The number of Graces had dwindled since the recent upheavals, and their smiles were thin and forced. Daenerys suspected their unease stemmed from her choice of dress or her differing faith.

But she cared little for their opinions.

With Ser Barristan's help, Daenerys descended from the palanquin. Lifting the hem of her gown, she began to ascend the temple's painted brick steps.

At the top of the stairs stood Samwell, watching her with a warm smile.

Daenerys felt a blush rise to her cheeks, her own smile softening. She quickened her pace.

Amidst the chants of the temple sisters and the gazes of thousands, the couple met at the summit, embraced, and kissed.

Samwell held Daenerys by the waist and led her into the Temple of the Graces.

The air inside was thick with incense, and the Ghiscari gods loomed in shadowed alcoves.

The sisters brought forth an ivory chair and a golden basin.

Samwell lifted Daenerys into the chair, knelt before her, and untied her sandals. He began washing her feet with warm, fragrant oil.

The sensation made Daenerys giggle uncontrollably. She reached out to cradle his face in her hands.

From now on, this man is my husband, she thought tenderly.

My only family, my final refuge.

When the ritual was complete, Samwell dried her feet with a soft towel, slipped her sandals back on, and helped her stand.

The Green Grace approached, holding two golden chains. She bound Samwell's and Daenerys's wrists and ankles together, symbolizing their union.

She then recited a blessing in Ghiscari, though neither bride nor groom understood much of it.

Finally, the Green Grace declared in the Common Tongue that they were now husband and wife under the eyes of the Ghiscari gods.

Samwell kissed his bride once more, then led her out of the temple to the cheers of the crowd.

---

The ceremony concluded, the newlyweds returned to the Great Pyramid, where a lavish feast awaited them.

Musicians played exotic melodies on bells, bagpipes, and drums, while thirty-three naked dancers performed an ancient courtship dance.

Wine flowed freely, and the new nobility of Astapor, Yunkai, and Meereen raised their glasses in awe and reverence for the union of two Valyrian bloodlines.

Even the Dothraki had sent emissaries. Originally summoned by Yunkai to attack Meereen, they had withdrawn after witnessing the Yunkish army's defeat.

It seemed the current khal was pragmatic enough to realize that Meereen, guarded by Unsullied, was an impregnable fortress. Any assault would risk a disaster akin to the Battle of Qohor.

Moreover, the restoration of slavery had removed any incentive for the Dothraki to attack.

Envoys from Volantis, Qohor, New Ghis, Qarth, and other cities of Slaver's Bay also attended. Yet their celebrations seemed more focused on the reopening of the slave trade than on the marriage itself.

"Esteemed King Samwell, Queen Daenerys," Xaro Xhoan Daxos declared enthusiastically, "please allow me to present the gift of the Thirteen!"

He led the couple to a window overlooking the bay, pointing to a vast fleet of ships.

"There are 130 vessels here, capable of transporting thousands across the Narrow Sea to Westeros. Among them, three ships are yours to keep. Once you arrive in Westeros, they will not return but remain in your service."

"Oh? Which three?" Daenerys asked with a smile.

"The Saidurion, the Sun of Summer, and the Joking Joso. These shall symbolize the friendship between Qarth and House Targaryen."

"Qarth's generosity is most appreciated," Samwell replied with a smile.

The dragon has three heads, Daenerys thought. Aloud, she said, "If they are ours, I wish to rename them."

"As you wish," Xaro said. "What names would please you?"

"Balerion, Meraxes, and Vhagar," Daenerys declared, naming the dragons of Aegon the Conqueror. "Have the names painted in gold, three feet high on each hull. I want the world to know: the dragons have returned."

Samwell laughed, pulling her close.

"They will carry Unsullied, dragons, and fire and blood."

(End of Chapter)