The Necromancer King (A Game Of Thrones)

Dragon Emperor's Night

Naming six others was easier said than done, as Aerion would soon realise. Naming a Queen of Love and Beauty usually meant that you had intentions of courting said lady... so, naturally, whoever he named would be emboldened in a way (apart from his mother).

House Martell's spectators were all close to Aerion's own seat, of course. No one could ever doubt the bond between the current House Targaryen and House Martell which had served as Aerion's shield during the time he was growing his wings.

"Arianne, I name you my first lady of beauty and love." Aerion lowered a second laurel through his lance onto Arianne Martell's lap. "Rain might fall, strong winds may collapse entire castles and floods may drown out the world... but so long as you smile,

the sun in the sky will ever be so radiant. Lady Arianne of House Martell, you are the love of my life and I fear that I could not do without you. As such... it is my desire to make you my wife and Queen."

"He has my blessing, without a doubt." Doran Martell remarked, smiling with joy.

"I am yours and you are mine." Arianne Martell nodded, accepting his marriage proposal without hesitation. ""That short poem was really sweet of you, my beloved."

"It was my first try." Aerion chuckled a little. "Maybe I should start playing the harp and singing songs like my father?"

"Arianne would not be able to fend off all your admirers if you did, Your Grace." Oberyn remarked with a jestful tone. "They would swarm you like flies and never leave."

"Haha... then I'd best avoid that predicament."

Aerion did not ride far... moving his horse right by a few steps. House Targaryen's seats were right next to House Martell's, naturally. He picked up his third laurel with his lance and placed it at Daenery's lap.

"There is no beauty in the world quite like that of the blood of the dragon." Aerion remarked, smiling as he did so. Observing the princess' expression, he did not expect her to be quite so flushed by his act.

"I... thank you for this honour. It will not be something that I'll forget."

"You've earned it." Aerion nodded.

Grabbing his fourth laurel, he rode back left to where Ashara Dayne sat and granted her the honour of lady of love and beauty.

"I do not recall a moment when you did not look beautiful, auntie."

Smelling the laurels, she looked rather pleased. "You look quite beautiful yourself, Your Grace. Could this be your way of announcing that you intend to court me?"

Although her tone was playful and in a jesting manner, there was a hint of truth behind it. Aerion saw through it, although he was caught off-guard. For several moments, he did not know how to reply.

"If the lady Ashara would be willing to dance with me, I would not object." Aerion replied simply, not suggesting too much but not rejecting her either.

"Then I will see you afterwards."

Ashara's charming smile made Aerion Targaryen feel some type of way, inciting a flame of desire in his heart. He had not felt quite so tempted to be unfaithful since the red woman visited him. There was something about distinct features like purple eyes and fire-kissed hair that he found hard to resist... no, it wasn't just that. He had realised that he had a 'thing' for beautiful women who were older than himself.

Arianne, Ashara, Cersei...

Though, to be fair, he wasn't exactly old himself so the pool of younger women he could choose from was not exactly deep. As a matter of fact, only girls born in the third moon of 280 AC to early 281 AC would qualify as women younger than himself (16). Anything younger than that was a girl, of course.