Aemon Targaryen (107 A.C. Ninth Moon)
Kingslanding - Aemon's chambers
Aemon woke early and looked toward his window. The sun was just rising. His mind was still somewhat foggy, yet then what this day was hit him. The stress struck, and he jumped out of bed. He needed to get out of his chamber. He quickly washed his face in a basin of cold water, dressed himself in a training gambeson, and walked toward the door.
As he opened the door, he saw Ser Jeffery and Ser Harrold waiting outside. "Morning, Sers. Join me in the training yard, if you please."
"Of course, my prince, and good morning," they both noted. As they saw his attire, they both smirked.
"What?"
"It is normal, my prince. I can understand the need to train to release stress," Ser Jeffery replied, smiling at him.
"Good. Let's go then," he noted.
Not much later they arrived in the training yard. Nobody else was yet training, which pleased Aemon. The yard lay quiet in the early morning light. The rising sun cast long shadows across the sand, and the only sounds were the distant cries of gulls from Blackwater Bay and the faint clatter of armor as the three men prepared themselves.
Good peace and quiet before all the birds start to chatter.
Aemon walked toward the armory and pushed open the heavy wooden door. Inside, racks of weapons lined the walls: swords, spears, axes, and shields of many shapes and sizes. He reached for two practice longswords and weighed them briefly in his hands, testing the balance before stepping back outside.
Ser Harrold and Ser Jeffery joined him shortly after and chose their own gear. Ser Jeffery preferred a battle axe and shield, while Harrold took a trusty longsword and shield.
Aemon rolled his shoulders and loosened his grip on the blades, letting the familiar weight settle in his hands.
"Give your all," he said, looking between the two knights. "I wish to be panting before the first person arrives."
Both knights smirked.
"As you command, my prince," Ser Jeffery said.
Without further warning, the two men advanced.
The sand crunched beneath their boots as they closed the distance.
Aemon stepped forward to meet them.
Harrold struck first, his sword cutting low toward Aemon's leg in a swift testing blow. Aemon lifted his leg just in time, the blade slicing harmlessly through empty air beneath him. At the same moment, Jeffery's axe came swinging from the side.
Steel rang as Aemon turned his wrist and caught the blow on his sword, the shock running through his arm.
With a quick flick of his blade, he moved the axed out of the way, and strapped Jeffery's near his armpits, a light strike that would have pierced his padding had it been with a sharp weapon. Then he slipped between the two knights before either could close the gap.
The maneuver forced them to turn.
Aemon pivoted on the balls of his feet and faced them again, blades ready.
Both knights were smiling.
"Well done, my prince," Ser Harrold said, raising his shield. "Quick and alert as always."
Aemon did not answer. Instead, he charged.
He spread his arms wide as he advanced, both swords angled outward. His eyes were fixed on the opening between the two men.
It was exactly the sort of gap he had exploited just slipped through.
Harrold saw it too. The knight shifted closer to Jeffery, shield raised, waiting for Aemon to dart between them so they could strike from both sides.
Jeffery caught the plan instantly and gave Harrold a quick nod.
They would trap him.
Aemon saw the trap forming.
At the last moment, he changed direction.
Instead of lunging forward, he dropped low and veered left. One of his swords swept down in a sudden hooking motion, the flat of the blade catching behind Jeffery's ankle.
With a hard pull, he dragged the knight's leg out from under him.
Jeffery hit the ground with a grunt, sand scattering as he fell onto his back.
Harrold blinked in surprise.
Aemon was already moving.
Jeffery struggled to rise, pushing himself up onto one knee, but Aemon gave him no time. Using the man himself as a step, he vaulted forward, his body twisting through the air.
He crashed hard against Harrold and, in the chaos, brought his blade down sharply against the knight's helm. Had he been his Blackclaw, he would have cleaved into the man's brain.
Harrold staggered back a step, his vision clearly rattled by the blow. As he tried to regain his footing, Aemon pressed the attack, driving him backward across the sand.
Behind them, Jeffery tried to rise again.
Aemon saw it from the corner of his eye.
He shifted his weight and shoved Harrold with his shoulder, forcing the knight another step back. Aemon quickly darted back and smacked flat and blade against Jeffery's helm. This caused the man to slip back down into the sand.
Harrold, still dazed, Aemon quickly turned on him as the man tried to defend himself.
Aemon struck twice in quick succession.
Steel clanged.
Then, with a twist of his wrist, he knocked Harrold's sword from his hand.
The weapon spun through the air and landed several paces away.
Aemon stepped forward and placed the tip of his blade against Harrold's throat. "Yield, Ser?" he asked calmly.
Harrold blinked, shook his head to clear it, then slowly nodded.
Behind Aemon, he heard movement. Jeffery was rising again.
Aemon smirked, and turned and faced the knight, lowering his blade slightly.
"I let you rise, Ser," he said.
Jeffery stood fully now, brushing sand from his armor. His grin returned as he lifted his axe once more.
"Very generous of you, my prince."
Aemon attacked immediately.
His blades flashed in a rapid series of strikes, forcing Jeffery onto the defensive. The knight blocked the first blow with his shield, deflected the second with the haft of his axe, and barely turned aside the third.
The fourth came too quickly.
Aemon's sword struck the side of Jeffery's helm with a sharp crack.
The knight staggered, momentarily stunned.
Aemon stepped forward and drove his boot into Jeffery's stomach.
The kick sent the man sprawling backward into the sand.
Jeffery blinked dizzily as he tried to focus. When his vision cleared, he saw a blade pointed directly at his throat.
"Yield, Ser?" Aemon asked, smiling.
Jeffery raised his hands slightly. "I yield, my prince."
Aemon lowered his sword and offered his hand, helping the knight to his feet.
Harrold walked over, retrieving his fallen sword along the way.
"Must be humiliating for any knight to be beaten by their squire," he said with a grin.
"Except when said squire is a fine swordsman," Jeffery replied, dusting sand from his armor, Harrold added, "and too stubborn to become a knight."
Aemon smirked at his mentor and father figure. "I know. Yet I have something special planned, as you both know. And I think that will be a perfect opportunity to be knighted."
"It will be a spectacle," Ser Jeffery said. "Very Targaryen of you."
Aemon smiled. "Well then," he said, raising his swords once more. "Let us go again."
Ser Harrold stepped back into position, pride clear in his eyes.
"As you please, my prince."
Aemon's chamber
After taking a bath, the servants arrived and helped him dress. In the Targaryen black and red, a version of his personal sigil was on his chest: a white wolf and black dragon dancing around a weirwood.
I am part of the North and will always be proud of that, he thought as he looked at himself in the mirror.
Then the door opened.
"Brother, you look pretty. Also, congratulations on your nameday," Visenya noted, and he saw Arya's face, who smiled.
"She's right. Pretty and all dressed up. To think you are my soot-covered brother who works in the forge."
They all chuckled, as did their mother.
"Thank you, sisters. It is always a pleasure to see you smile or receive a compliment," he said, hugging them before turning to his mother.
"Well, son, ready for married life?" his mother asked as she took his face in her hands.
He smiled and nodded.
"I still remember when I held you in my arms for the first time," his mother said as she looked at him, embracing his sister. She mouthed the word both, making him chuckle.
"We thought of giving your wedding present now," his mother said after they embraced. "I hope you wear it during your wedding."
His mother walked out the door and came back toward them with a cloak. It was a white cloak, mostly of snow bear fur, with an embroidered dragonwolf upon it and a laughing weirwood.
"Thank you. It is a wonderful gift. I know you all aren't the most patient with embroidering, especially with preparing two bridal cloaks," he said with a smile, giving them both a warm look. "And yes, I shall wear it during my wedding. Let's go break our fast," he said with a smile.
Not much later, they arrived in the dining room, where Rhaenys, Laenor, Laena, and Lord Corlys were already seated.
"Good morrow, my prince, princess," Corlys said as they arrived, bowing his head.
Laenor did the same, and Rhaenys gave him a smile and nod.
Laena walked over and kissed him on the lips.
Arya and Visenya both smiled at them, but he noticed the look of longing in Visenya's eyes. After he sat down, he gave her a quick smile.
Not much later, Rhaenyra arrived, wearing a dress of Arryn blue.
"Morning, princess," the room said to her.
She gave them all a smile and took her seat at the table.
After that, Gael and her husband arrived. He smiled. Gael had truly blossomed and seemed to have found love in her husband. Their children, Daenerys, the name still making his heart ache a little, was their eldest, a child of nine. Clemaerys, their only son, was a boy of seven, and their youngest, Aleanna, was a girl of four.
"Morning, Lord and Lady Celtigar."
Not much later, Viserys and Aemma arrived, and the table rose.
"My King, my Queen. Good morning," the table said to them.
He smiled at Aemma as she took her seat. She was almost ready to give birth. So close.
His thoughts returned to the words he had spoken with Scriptor Dussard. It had been one of the things he had ordered the scribes to work on, to see if there could be ways to help mothers during childbirth. Thankfully, working with midwives, herbwomen, and others, they had found some methods. He hoped it could save Aemma.
When he heard she was with child again, he had been angry. Still, Viserys had waited a little between the last one and the current one.
Yet when he saw Aemma, he had seen the strain on her face. She was exhausted. He wondered how his grandmother had endured thirteen pregnancies. Likely because many of her children lived and she took joy in them, only Aegon and Valerion dying quite soon after their births.
Sadly, Aemma didn't have that luxury. Only Rhaenyra, of all her children, had survived.
"Aemma, it is a pleasure to see you this morning. I wish you could be with us during the ceremony tomorrow and during the celebration. Although I would rather have you and my niece or nephew healthy," he added with a smile.
"Thank you, Aemon. Also, thank you for sending your maester. The raspberry and nettle leaf tea he gave me has helped me relax," Aemma replied.
"Good. I hope Maester Dussard could help you. Apparently, it is a recipe that women on the coast of the North have used for quite some time. Although it is not well known by noblewomen, as the herb has mostly been given by either midwives, herbwomen, or a local expert in healing."
Aemon smiled, then gave Laena a look. He hoped it would work for her too. It was something that, the more he thought about it, he wanted. He wanted a child, especially with Laena, someone he had come to love.
She smiled at him, took his hand, and then blushed.
"I hope it helps me too," Laena added, making his heart beat a little quicker.
Yet the table became quiet for a moment.
"As do I," he noted with a smile.
The room gave out a light chuckle.
"To House Targaryen and Velaryon," Viserys said as he raised his cup, and soon the rest followed.
Lyanna Stark Targaryen (107 A.C. Ninth Moon)
Kingslanding – Throneroom
She had sobbed a little when the first day of the wedding festivities arrived. Her boy would marry, a thing she thought she would never see. When she held little Aemon for the first time, she had been weak and had tried to take in all of her son. But the last thing she remembered of that moment was placing him in her brother's arms.
Now her son was soon to wed. Not just someone, but the daughter of the Sea Snake and Princess Rhaenys Targaryen, a woman she had always admired when she had lived her previous life, and now a trusted friend. Yet as much as she enjoyed that, the fact that Laena loved her son, and Aemon loved her, was more important.
She knew how it felt to be in an arranged marriage, to feel trapped. Yet thinking back on it now, would she have done it differently? Could she have done her duty as a wife to Robert, knowing what she knew would come? Perhaps. Yet did that outweigh the children she now had? Visenya and Aemon were hers, and she loved them with all her heart. And even Arya, although now of her blood, had not always been. Yet she had loved the girl before she knew who she truly was, and now she loved her as she was. She was her daughter, but also the daughter of her brother.
Arya had seen that as well. Aemon had told her once, I have three fathers, why can't you have two mothers? Those words had deepened their bonds.
So now, as he waited there beside the King as his betrothed was about to arrive, she was proud of him. Proud of the man he was, and proud of the man he had become. Because she had seen him grow, to be more outspoken, learning to live as he now did. Yet something he had carried since he was young was the ability to have people follow him. Otherwise, how could he have had men follow him north of the Wall when he was only four and ten, or through all the other things he had led his people through?
The more he grew, the more she noticed how much he reminded her of her eldest brother. Brandon had possessed that same drive, that same ability to make people follow him. But her son was more tempered. It seemed he was a combination of the wolf and the dragon. Ice and fire had shaped him together.
Well, Rhaegar, she thought, you were partly right. Our boy is the song of ice and fire, the child of prophecy, the promised hero who will save them all.
Or so she believed.
As she thought of those damn dreams and prophecy, she hoped the child Aemma was carrying would be a boy so she could finally rest. She had not seen all of Aemma's pregnancies, but she knew of them. She knew, better than most, how tired Aemma was. This would be her last child, whether it was a boy or not. She hoped Dussard could help, and apparently, his tea already had.
As she looked at the table, Viserys seemed to have grown fatter and weaker than he had been when he was crowned. She had spoken with Aemma, and she had told her that Viserys rarely took to the sky or did anything truly active. Perhaps hunting, but she knew the way royals hunted was not truly active, as they did in the North. Nor did she truly enjoy it, but the times she had ridden out with Baelon, with bow and arrow while he carried a spear, had been enjoyable. Perhaps Aemon could help his brother regain his vitality.
She looked at the center of the table, where two open spots were on the left side of the King, and two on the right. The left side would be where Rhaenyra and Daemon would sit, while her son and Laena would sit on Viserys's right side.
Then a drum ruffle and a slow rhythm announced the arrival of the groom.
"Prince Aemon Targaryen, Prince of Seadragon Point, future husband to Lady Laena Velaryon, the White Dragon," Ser Harrold announced as her son walked into the throne room beside Ghost, making some who had not seen the wolf before gasp in shock.
He wore the cape she and her daughters had gifted him that morning. Under it he wore a black tunic of white and red, with a dragon and silver embroidered wolf upon his chest. He also wore a beautifully crafted Valyrian steel necklace, very similar to the ones he had gifted Visenya and Rhaenyra.
Looking at her son, he looked more like a king than his brother ever did.
"Your Grace, you certainly have prepared a wonderful feast for my wedding and the birth of your heir. My deepest appreciation," he said with a bow before walking to his seat and taking the one in the middle of the three vacant center seats.
Not much later, another drum ruffle sounded.
"Princess Rhaenyra, daughter of our good King Viserys Targaryen and Queen Aemma."
Rhaenyra walked in dressed in a blue and red dress. Upon one shoulder was a silver embroidered falcon, and upon her right shoulder a golden dragon. She looked like a true beauty, and a true princess of House Targaryen.
Viserys stood up and walked toward her. Taking her hand, he kissed it for all to see.
"Daughter, you look wonderful."
After Rhaenyra sat down, the hall hushed again.
"Prince Daemon Targaryen, rider of Caraxes and wielder of Dark Sister," Ser Harrold announced.
Daemon looked so much like her husband that it hurt her somewhat to see it. Yet the looks and perhaps Baelon's bravery were all Daemon had. Then again, Daemon may have had an elder brother, but Viserys was no Aemon. As much as Viserys bemoaned Daemon's activities, his indulgence in lustful or irrational acts, Viserys also knew how to indulge himself. Only he did so with feasts, balls, tourneys, and the building of his Valyrian city model.
Aemon had, by her husband's words, become someone he would try to outdo. Although Aemon was on many occasions the better, or the equal, of his brother. Viserys sadly, to her sorrow, had weakened from the young, energetic lad she had once known into a lazy man who avoided conflict most of the time.
She sighed as Daemon walked to his seat beside Rhaenyra and sat down. Otto, of all people, smiled a little at that. But she hoped that for the evening, they would behave.
Then came the final drum ruffle.
She knew what that meant: the arrival of the Velaryon family.
"Lord Corlys of House Velaryon, Lord of the Tides and Master of Driftmark, Master of Ships, with his lady wife, Princess Rhaenys Targaryen. Their son and daughter, Laenor Velaryon, heir to Driftmark, and Lady Laena Velaryon, the future Princess of Seadragon Point."
Ser Harrold announced them, and the same as with Aemon, the crowd stood and applauded.
Laena wore a black, red, and blue dress with a seahorse and a dragonwolf embroidered in silver and gold. The candlelight beautifully caught the silver of her hair.
A handsome couple, she and Aemon made, and a powerful one at that, she thought with a smile.
Her son looked up brightly then, and she saw the brightness in his eyes—one of love.
He walked over to Laena, took her hand, and kissed it.
"My betrothed."
They both smiled at each other.
Then a mighty dragon's roar was heard above the ceiling of the throne room. It seemed Balerion wanted to make his presence known, announcing the bond between Aemon and him and the power of House Targaryen.
Then her stepson stood up to speak.
"Be welcome as we join together in celebration. Tonight is only its beginning. My heir shall wed and unite the bloodlines of the dragon. With hearts intertwined, we gather to witness the forging of a new chapter in the annals of House Targaryen and Velaryon. This chapter pays homage to the indomitable spirits of my revered uncle Aemon and my valiant father Baelon."
He paused for a moment.
"May the union of Aemon Targaryen and Laena Velaryon be fruitful and unite us for many centuries to come. Let a new age of dragons be born."
Her stepson finished, and applause was heard around the room.
"Now the gifts for the happy couple may be presented to my brother after the dance. Let us all celebrate this wedding and the birth of my heir. After tonight's small affair, six days of celebration will follow. At the end of it all, my brother will be married, and my heir will be born."
Her stepson ended, and another round of applause filled the hall.
Laena Velaryon (107 A.C. Ninth Moon)
Kingslanding – Throneroom
Laena took a deep breath and rose beside Aemon, who took her hand and led her to the dance floor.
Aemon looked handsome. The beard he had grown as he had gotten older was now finely trimmed, and his curling gold-silver locks, together with his grey eyes, made him look the perfect prince in her eyes. Those grey eyes, specked with thin hints of purple, made her heart skip a beat, as they looked so different than any other Valyrian men she knew.
As they reached the floor, the dance began. It was a dance they had practiced on Driftmark. They both held out their arms and widened their stance upon the floor, like spreading their wings like dragons, and then they closed, pressing their bodies against each other.
Aemon held his arm against her waist, and as he held her close, Laena smelt his musky scent. She found herself a little shaken as he danced her across the floor in the same move.
He pulled her back again, and instead of pulling her close, he lowered her down, holding her in his arms. His eyes sparkled with excitement as her own heart beat wildly in her chest.
He pulled her up once more and again repeated the same wide move. Then came the move that made her heart race, something they had practiced the most. With a quick pull, Aemon drew her close, and with a small jump, Laena went into the air as Aemon lifted her with ease.
Then, in a quick movement, he brought her down, gave a quick turn, and, with one last pull, took her into his embrace. The drums ended, and applause rose from the crowd.
After that, Aemon gave her a graceful bow, and she did the same. He took her hand and led her back to her seat.
Viserys rose once more.
"Please enjoy the rest of the feast, and give your greetings and gifts to the happy pair."
Some people began to dance, while others left the hall for a moment before returning with gifts. She had seen the servants of many lords and ladies waiting with gifts in the hallway that led to the throne room. She widened her eyes, seeing how many there were.
Then again, she was to be married to likely the second most powerful man in the realm, and she was the daughter of likely the wealthiest house of the realm. Many in the realm would want to curry favor with them. Although she was sure some gifts were meant for them as people, most would be given to gain favor or show respect.
The first person in line, to her great happiness, was Rhaenyra. She saw her friend and saw there was no jealousy, only happiness.
"Uncle, future aunt," Rhaenyra said with a small smile.
Laena chuckled. "Please, Rhaenyra, you make me feel old."
"Indeed, niece," Aemon noted, smiling at his cousin. "You will be though on the morrow," Rhaenyra replied with a smile as her eyes twinkled with amusement.
"To honor our houses' bonds," Rhaenyra began, "I give you something I hope will be cherished by your future child."
A dragonkeeper stepped forward, holding the familiar brazier used for dragon eggs. Those close by gasped. Rhaenyra walked over to the brazier and lifted the lid.
Laena's eyes widened. Inside was a golden-yellow dragon egg with black stripes. A murmur swept through the hall as the dragon egg was revealed. Lords leaned forward in their seats, whispering among themselves.
"Oh, Rhaenyra, what a wonderful gift."
She rose from her seat, gave Rhaenyra a hug, and kissed her on the cheek. "Thank you."
Aemon remained seated and smiled at them. "Thank you, niece. Quite some trust to give it to us. I didn't know Syrax had laid a clutch."
"I know. It was a surprise for me as well. I had been thinking of what to give you both, and then Syrax gave me this. I had already chosen an egg for my future sibling, so I thought giving you this egg felt meant to be." Rhaenyra smiled at them both.
"Well, once again, thank you for the gift, Rhaenyra," Aemon noted, giving her a grateful smile.
Rhaenyra nodded and left, returning to her seat.
Aemon looked toward the dragonkeeper. "The egg can be returned to the egg chambers in the pit until we return to Seadragon Point, of course."
Laena returned to her seat and whispered to Aemon. "I didn't expect her to give us a dragon egg."
"No, but it is a wonderful one. And looking at the egg, it seems Balerion has found himself a young mate," Aemon noted with a chuckle.
She laughed with him.
Then a small cough broke them out of their little spell.
"Father, Mother," she noted with a smile.
"Dear daughter, future good-son. In the name of House Velaryon, we wish to gift you this grant: a promise of two hundred thousand gold dragons, on top of the confirmed dowry of two hundred thousand gold dragons, as well as the granting of five additional warships to your fleet," her father stated proudly.
Then he looked to her mother.
"It's a plan I had in mind. Perhaps it will persuade you to travel more often to Driftmark," her mother began.
"Oh, what might that be, besides visiting my future good family?" Aemon asked.
"The future promise of lands on Driftmark Isle, and the building of a castle like High Tide, for you to visit," her mother replied with a smirk.
Laena saw her father's eyes glinting with pride as those words echoed through the hall, causing gasps. How could he not? Her father was already offering a large dowry to her husband. But promising a castle like High Tide would cause many to be green with envy.
Aemon rose, and she rose with him. "Well, my lord, princess, I thank you for your gifts, and the grant of land and fief even more so."
Viserys had also risen. "I thank you for your generosity. House Targaryen is grateful."
Her mother then looked toward Viserys. "There is also something for the Queen and for you, Your Grace, to celebrate the future birth of your heir."
"Indeed, to celebrate the future King," her father noted, waving a servant forward.
The servant carried a red and black blanket with a red dragon upon it, its edge made of golden threads.
Viserys looked surprised.
"May it keep the child warm," her father added.
"It is wonderfully crafted. I thank you for the gift. I am sure the Queen will appreciate it," Viserys replied.
At that, her mother and father bowed to the King and gave a small nod to them before her father took her mother to the dance floor.
As the festivities continued, the atmosphere was filled with joy and celebration. Guests from various houses mingled, and the sounds of laughter and music echoed through the hall.
She could not help but feel a sense of contentment as she looked around, surrounded by friends, family, and her soon-to-be husband.
The next to approach was Lord Lyonel Strong, the Master of Laws and Lord of Harrenhal. He brought a beautifully crafted weirwood bow as a gift for Aemon.
"May this bow serve you well in the battles to come, my prince. It is crafted from a tree in Harrenhal's godswood. Additional thanks for taking in my son; he seems happy," he said, bowing respectfully.
Aemon graciously accepted the gift, expressing his gratitude and speaking kind words about his friend. Laena had met him briefly. He was quiet but spoke well, and she had noticed the bond between them.
The feast continued, and the guests indulged in delicious food and fine wines. She found herself engaged in lively conversations, her worries about potential divisions in the realm fading in the face of the unity and joy displayed that evening.
As the night wore on, the dance floor became a focal point, and Laena found herself twirling and swirling in Aemon's arms once again.
"I like the gifts," she said as they stood together in an embrace. "But this togetherness I enjoy the most."
They both nodded in agreement.
As they sat back down, another group of well-wishers approached.
Now it started with Aemon's uncle, Lord Benjen.
"Well, nephew, you have already granted my house so much, and the North so much. So I found it difficult to think of something to grant you both."
"It doesn't matter, uncle. Your presence in the capital is a gift enough," Aemon replied.
"No, nephew. You are the Northern Prince. To honor that, I grant you this," Lord Benjen stated.
He ordered two servants forward, both holding cushions with blankets on top of them. Lord Benjen smiled proudly as he revealed what lay beneath.
They both gasped, and those close by did as well, save for the King and the rest of the Starks.
"May these represent the crowns for the Prince and Princess of Seadragon Point. May these be held by those who hold the title."
On top of the cushions lay two crowns in the traditional style of the Kings of Winter: a bronze circlet with nine black iron spikes.
"Hmm, uncle, I would accept this gift, but I cannot hold a crown without my brother's permission," Aemon noted, looking toward the King.
"Do not worry, brother. Lord Stark came to me, and I gave him permission. You may wear it during ceremonies and in your lands," the King replied.
"Thank you, brother. Then, uncle, please place the crown upon the heads of myself and my wife-to-be," Aemon replied gratefully.
Benjen smiled as he placed the crown upon Aemon's head. "My prince."
Then he turned to her.
"My lady," he said as he placed the crown upon her head.
"Thank you, Lord Stark. These are wonderful. I shall wear them proudly as the future Princess of Seadragon Point."
"Oh, no doubt that you will, my lady," Benjen noted before stepping aside and returning to his seat beside his wife.
Then the Hand stepped forward. There was a slight edge of irritation upon Ser Otto Hightower's face as he approached the soon-to-be-wedded couple. There was a discernible tension in the air, as she knew full well the man had blocked many of her father's attempts to push for action against the Stepstone pirates.
The man bowed toward Aemon and gave her a small nod. He handed Aemon a gilded book, though the discerning eyes of those present could sense subtle disapproval in the gesture. The book, adorned with the Seven-Pointed Star, was a traditional gift, but Otto's gaze hinted at his reservations about the union.
"I present you with this book of the Seven," Otto said, his tone formal but lacking the warmth usually associated with such gifts. "May it guide you in the ways of the Faith and provide solace in times of uncertainty."
Aemon accepted the book with a polite nod.
"Thank you, Lord Hand. I shall certainly read it."
Laena doubted that he would.
Then another of her friends stepped forward.
Alicent wore a fine grey gown with the Hightower embroidered in patterns upon the front of the dress. She bowed to them both and looked at them with a happy smile, one that fit perfectly upon those pretty lips she had kissed.
"I know it's not much, but I made this tablecloth for you," Alicent said a bit nervously.
Laena saw the piece and thought it wonderful: half a Targaryen dragon on black, and on the other side the Velaryon seahorse upon sea green.
She took it from Alicent and smiled.
"Thank you, Lady Alicent. It is wonderfully made. Perhaps in the future we can work on a piece together again. It has been quite some time since we did."
Alicent smiled. "That would be nice, Lady Laena."
Aemon spoke then. "Truly great work, Lady Alicent. I am always amazed by how women can do that."
Laena smiled at his words. "Says the man who makes finely detailed engravings in metalwork."
Those close to them laughed.
"Perhaps then I should give it a try," Aemon replied.
More laughter followed.
Laena looked once more at Alicent. "Once again, Lady Alicent, thank you."
Alicent bowed and left.
After that, a couple more people brought gifts and well-wishes before the King rose from his seat. He gave an order to a servant, and a few moments later, three servants came forward carrying a lavish golden-enameled shield with a red dragon on the right, and a blue seahorse on the left.
Close by, it was quite the craftsmanship. Yet, thinking on Aemon's work, he had created this one plaid in comparison.
"May this shield protect you in times of need, my brother. May it serve as a symbol of the strength that comes from unity," Viserys declared, and looked toward with a smile. Both she and Aemon smiled back, Viserys paused before adding.
"In honor of the union, I shall grant one of the towers within the Red Keep to my brother and his future wife. May they always have a home in King's Landing."
Aemon rose. "Thank you, brother. King's Landing will always be a part of me. It is where I took my first steps and where my family lives."
He looked toward Viserys, who nodded. "I must thank you all for your arrival and for celebrating my upcoming wedding with the wonderful Lady Laena."
He took her hand and helped her rise.
"Let this week see our future King be born, and let us all celebrate the union between Targaryen and Velaryon. To house Targaryen and Velaryon."
The hall rose, and many echoed the chant.
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