Chapter 9: A Royal Wedding. 115 AC

[1st POV]

I walked through the quiet corridors of the Red Keep as Daemon was walking just right in front of me. No one was in the corridor, not even a heartbeat, it seems everyone is in the halls, either feasting, or serving the ones who are feasting.

My gaze turns towards the sword on Daemon's waist. Dark Sister was always a slim sword, originally made for a woman, but it doesn't mean it's useless if it's used by men. I mean, the idea of having a legendary sword like that is quite cool, but…

"Do you want it?" asked Daemon suddenly.

"What?"

"Do you want the sword?" repeated Daemon.

I didn't answer for a while. "No, I think I will pass."

Daemon hummed. "Interesting… you refused a Valyrian sword…"

"I can make my own sword." I continued. "Once I'm older."

"I doubt it'll be as good as this one."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that." I said. "Fire magic isn't the only type of magic, you know?"

Daemon raised his brow in amusement, but didn't say anything. We kept walking through the corridor, and finally, we arrived at the wedding hall, where apparently, the Velaryons are making an entrance right now.

Wait, if we arrived later than the Velaryons, isn't that quite rude?

The Kingsguard blocked our way, and stared at Daemon. "My Prince, you are not allowed to bring any weapons to the hall."

Daemon glared at the Kingsguard, but ultimately, he took off his scabbard, and shoved it to the kingsguard.

"Mind the hilt," said Daemon. "It's expensive."

The Kingsguard nodded politely. "I will, my prince."

The Kingsguard then turned towards me. Before he could say anything, I shook my head, and he just nodded again.

After that, the Kingsguard got out of the way, but we could hear loud applause from the hall, probably the Velaryon finished making their entrance.

"Let's go." Daemon said to me. "It's time for you to meet my brother."

Okay… here we go….

—

[3rd POV]

The applause died down when the Velaryons took their seats besides the king and the princess, but the loud chatters still echoed throughout the hall.

The guests were about to sit, as the future king consort's family had arrived, which means the feast would begin, but they stopped what they're doing once they heard footsteps from the door, and their gazes turned toward the source of the sound.

Two individuals stepped down the stairs to the hall. One wore a black and red Targaryen robe, while the other wore the same thing, except that he has a bronze armor on top of the robe. When the guests saw who it was, the chatters turned to whispers, their gazes filled with disgust and annoyance, but the two individuals seemed to ignore it.

It was Daemon and his son, Maegor.

Aside from House Royce, nobody had ever seen Maegor, and this was their first time seeing him. While the boy was said to be on his 8th name day, he looked like he was on his 12th. Like any other Targaryens, he had silvery blonde hair and violet eyes, he trimmed his hair by the side, but the rest stayed long.

Daemon and Maegor finally arrived in front of the king's table, the rogue prince had a wide smirk on his face.

"Your grace, princess." He greeted the king. "Congratulations are in order."

The king didn't speak. He just stood there, glaring at his younger brother as the lords and ladies of westeros watched.

"Thank you for your kind words, uncle." said the Princess besides the king, showing a facade. She turned towards Maegor, and continued her words. "And this must be my cousin."

"Yes." said Daemon straightforwardly. "Brother, I present to you your nephew, Maegor Targaryen, heir of Runestone."

As soon as he spoke his name, the whispers behind loudened, the lords and ladies discussed the naming sense of the prince, who on earth would name their son Maegor?

Viserys raised a weak smile as he saw the nephew. "I heard from my kingsguard that you brought two dragons. Which one is yours?"

"The Bronze Fury, your grace." Maegor spoke loudly, loud enough that the entire room heard him.

"Ah, your Great-Grandfather's dragon." said Viserys, nodding his head as he smiled. "I do hope you become like him when you grow up."

"I will try to live up to your expectations." Maegor bowed politely.

"And what of Silverwing?" Viserys asked again.

"No one has claimed her, your grace." answered Maegor. "I am worried that if I bring Vermithor to Runestone, Silverwing would follow as well. It will disturb the lives of the smallfolk there, while they can hunt themselves, I cannot control who or what they are hunting."

"Silverwing is a docile dragon. I am sure she will not bring trouble to Runestone." Viserys said.

The entire conversation was heard by the lords and ladies of Westeros. All of their eyes either turned towards the boy himself, or towards his mother, Lady Rhea. Meanwhile, the lady seemed calm, seemingly not bothered by the hungry gazes of the hyenas.

The entire conversation was a bit awkward, as Daemon was banished from King's Landing a year before this wedding. Viserys then stared at his brother, a bit uncomfortable. The king was about to speak his mind, but suddenly, a particular woman entered the room.

Alicent Hightower, who was wearing a beautiful green dress, walks slowly through the hall, towards the king's table. The entire time, people were looking at her, and everyone stood up as the queen entered the room.

Viserys stared at her, gobsmacked by her choice of dress, yet he didn't say anything, as always.

The queen passed Maegor, she stared at the boy for a bit too long, her gaze full of curiosity and… uncertainty. She walked towards her seat, didn't say anything to anyone, instead, she kissed Viserys cheek, and sat down.

The king scratched his jaw, seemingly feeling awkward in this situation. He then just turned towards the side, and gestured to the servants to bring more seats on the table.

And so, the welcome ceremony began, with the king announcing that there will be 7 days and 7 nights of feasting, and a tourney to celebrate the wedding.

—

[1st POV]

While this is definitely not my first time attending a wedding, this is definitely the weirdest… First of all, I can see my mother getting approached by ladies all over the continent, all bearing their individual sigils. I tried to listen to their conversation. Apparently, all of them want to arrange a betrothal between me and their daughters.

I guess having two dragons follow you around makes for an attractive husband candidate…

Next is my father. He kept staring at the bloody bride weirdly, it's been about 30 minutes, and he hasn't taken her out of his sight. The princess was dancing on the floor with his betrothed, while I sat here at the table beside the hand of the king, Lord Lyonel Strong, on the Targaryen side of it.

On the left side of the table, we have the Targaryens. That includes Queen Alicent's children, Aegon and Helaena, the hand, Daemon, and me. While the other side was filled with Valeryons.

"You'll enter one of the contests," said Daemon suddenly.

"I don't want to." I answered. "I don't even think I could join anyway."

"Just use armor to cover up your face, everybody does that." Daemon scoffed.

"So you'd think I would win if I joined the joust?"

"I'm thinking of you joining the archery contest." Daemon suggested. "I will ask the king for a more… personal reward for you if you win."

"That's blatant favoritism."

"When is it not?" Daemon shrugged. He then looked at the dancing lords and ladies on the floor, and whispered to me. "You don't want to dance?"

"Why would I?" I said. "I'm just a child, no one will want to dance with me."

"I can think of one." said Daemon with a smirk. "The queen's daughter is staring at you rather obsessively right now."

What?

I turned my gaze towards the 6 year old child, and what do you know about it, she was staring at me, but once I turned towards her, she quickly looked away, as if she had just been caught doing something wrong.

That was weird…

"And what of you? You've been staring at the princess for too long." I countered.

Daemon leaned against his chair. "I've asked your uncle to wed her to me, but I'm still wed to your mother."

"If you're planning on doing something about that, I will send Vermithor and Silverwing to tear apart your Caraxes."

Daemon chuckled. "Ooh… Scary..."

The man then stood up. He walked towards the dancing floor, and I saw him take the hand of Laena Velaryon, and he danced with her, not caring about mother's image.

I turned toward my mother, who is still talking to the ladies and lords. She doesn't look disturbed or annoyed at all, it's like she doesn't even care.

Oh well, better than having a full blown brawl in the middle of the feast.