THE WEDDING DISASTER
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
117 AC, Driftmark
Despite all the chaos Rhaenyra and Daemon's stunt had brought House Targaryen, something good did come out of it: Rhaenyra convinced Viserys to dismiss Otto Hightower as Hand of the King.
For too long, the son of Oldtown had managed to push his own agendas and better his own family's standing. Now Queen Alicent had lost her most valuable ally - although Valyria was not naive enough to believe that Otto leaving King's Landing meant that the hold he had on his daughter loosened. The timing of the Hand's dismissal could not have been better since everyone's attention turned to how the Queen's own father had fallen out of favour.
That did, however, not mean Valyria was unaware of what truly had transpired that night after Daemon and Rhaenyra went their separate ways. Serra's informants had told her about how Ser Criston Cole strangely had not been at his post - outside the princess's bedchambers - and that less than innocent noises had been heard from the inside.
The moon tea Viserys sent to Rhaenyra's chambers had served its purpose after all - just not to rid of any 'unwanted consequences' from another man. Over the years, Valyria had come to see Ser Criston as a friend at court. The two would often spar together which made her wonder if there was something she had missed all along.
Now Viserys was eager to marry off his daughter to quiet down any rumours that might spread about her little adventure with her uncle. Therefore, he immediately planned a trip to Driftmark where he would propose a match between Princess Rhaenyra and Ser Laenor to strengthen the crown's ties to the richest house in the realm.
Valyria had never been fond of boats and therefore she opted for riding there on Ānogara. The decision that she would come along had been made by Viserys who hoped her presence would sway Rhaenys who had always been very fond of Valyria since the two had a lot in common.
Valyria landed Ānogara just as the royal ship docked. She slid down the red dragon's wing with grace and gently ran her hand over her head as she waited for Viserys and Rhaenyra to join her on land. Ānogara flew away and Valyria approached the carriage that would take them to High Tide.
"You look absolutely dreadful," Valyria said with worry, noticing Viserys' pale and hollow cheeks. He had not been in the picture of health for years but this was worse than usual. "I know you wanted to show Lord Corlys some respect by coming here, but travelling is not good for your health."
"You needn't worry for me, Lyria," Viserys forced a smile
"Somebody has to," Valyria retorted, assisting Viserys in climbing into the carriage. Soon Rhaenyra and Lord Lyonel Strong, the new Hand of the King, joined them inside. Rhaenyra refused to even look at her father and instead she opted for glaring down at her hands.
The ride up to High Tide was bumpy and they had to exit the carriage and walk the last bit. As they reached the top of the stairs, a gate opened to reveal the castle made out of pale stone. Its towers were crowned by roofs of beaten silver that looked grey in the gloomy weather.
"What a grand welcoming," Valyria said sarcastically when she realised that no one was there to greet them. At the sound of swords clashing her attention turned to two figures sparring a few metres away from them. One with silver-white hair that she easily recognised as Laenor and another with red hair who she had a feeling was Ser Joffrey Lonmouth if Serra's sources were correct - and they usually were.
The two men bowed in front of the royal party and an annoyed Lyonel Strong asked, "Where is Lord Corlys? He should be here to receive the King."
The doors to the castle opened and two silver-haired figures descended the stairs. One was the son of Vaemond Velaryon, Lord Corlys's younger brother, and the other could be none other than Lady Laena. The girl who could have been the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms - but who probably were much happier in this arrangement - had grown up to be beautiful with long silver hair, that was slightly curled, that contrasted beautifully against her dark skin tone.
"Welcome to High Tide, Your Grace," Laena welcomed the King.
"What is the meaning of this, Lady Laena?" Lord Strong asked pointedly. "Is this how House Velaryon greets its King."
"My father has but just returned from his long journey and he has hastened to the Hall of Nine to await Your Grace's arrival," Laena explained, walking closer to them.
"Let's just get on with it," Viserys said unenthusiastically.
"Thank you for being here to welcome us, Lady Laena, Ser Laenor," Valyria smiled at her cousin's children. The walk towards the Hall of Nine was in awkward silence. The only two speaking were Laena and Valyria until Viserys called for Valyria to come with him and behind them, the doors closed so that Rhaenyra and Laena couldn't enter.
"You need to sit down," Valyria told Viserys gently, linking her arm with his to assist him in walking, hopefully taking some of his weight. His brow was glossy with sweat from the walk and his breathing grew heavier.
Viserys coughed a bit just as they entered to find Lord Corlys waiting for them, seated upon the Driftmark throne. He stood up and Valyria let go of Viserys and stepped back to stand beside Lord Strong as the two men stared at each other.
"Your Grace," Lord Corlys said, stepping down from the dais. He then kneeled before the King who coughed again.
After looking back at his Hand, Viserys said, "Rise, Lord Corlys."
"Be welcome," Corlys said, raising his hands. He then turned to Valyria and bowed, "Princess Valyria."
"My lord," Valyria offered a bow of her head in greeting, "thank you for welcoming us into your home."
Corlys smiled politely before asking the King, "May I offer you a chair?-"
The doors opened and Rhaenys entered, smiling brightly, "Cousins!"
"Princess," Viserys said, smiling at her. The two had been close before the Great Council pitted them against each other.
Rhaenys took one of his hands and Viserys winced in response. As his illness worsened, he went from wounds that healed poorly to having lost some of his fingers on one hand, which is why he always wore gloves these days.
Concern filled Rhaenys eyes as she asked, "Are you well?"
"Very," Viserys insisted.
"Cousin," Valyria stepped forward to take the attention away from the King, "how lovely to see you again."
"You grow even more beautiful with each passing day, my dear girl," Rhaenys told her sincerely, taking both of her hands. "How are the girls?"
"Mostly nagging me about wanting to ride their dragons," Valyria chuckled. "They grow up so fast."
"I congratulate you, Lord Lyonel," Corlys said. "I think of no man more suited to be Hand of the King." His words were true. After decades with the self-serving Otto Hightower it was good for the crown to have a Hand who didn't prioritise his own interests.
"That is very kind of you to say, Lord Corlys," Lord Strong thanked him. "His Grace has honoured me with the post."
"Pity about Ser Otto," Corlys said.
"Despite spending most of my days amidst the grandeur of the Red Keep, the halls of High Tide never fail to impress," Viserys changed the subject.
"You flatter me, Your Grace," Corlys said as Rhaenys poured herself a goblet of wine. "Though I wish we could meet under happier pretences."
Valyria frowned, "How so?"
"Daemon's wife, the Lady Rhea Royce, has passed," Corlys explained.
"What?" Valyria asked in shock, feeling her blood run cold. "How?"
"A hunting mishap," Rhaenys explained. "She was thrown from her horse. Her neck and skull both crushed in the fall."
"A most surprising end," Corlys said and judging by the look on Viserys's face, he thought the same as her. "Lady Rhea's skill as both rider and hunter were well-known."
"I'm going to kill him," Valyria muttered under her breath.
This was Daemon's doing - she was certain of it. Viserys had told him to go back to the Vale - as had Valyria - and it seemed he for once listened. For years he had complained about his miserable match... the question was simply: why now?
A part of her - the bitter side she tried to suppress - wondered if his plan was to stop Rhaenyra's wedding and wed his niece now when he was free to do so.
The more guilty part wondered if this was her fault. Valyria had told Daemon that nothing could happen between them for as long as he had a wife - had he therefore decided to get rid of the problem?
"The gods are cruel," Rhaenys sighed - no doubt having her own suspicions about the death.
"Indeed," Viserys said. "Lady Rhea was a fine woman and - uh - a good wife to my brother."
"Sad thing that she and Daemon have no heirs to succeed her," Rhaenys said. "She stood to inherit Runestone."
"I think we should all be grateful Daemon has yet to have any children," Valyria said, forcing a smile. "One of him is quite enough." That's when she realised that her fists were clenched at her sides; she folded them together in front of her and continued, "Lady Rhea's death is truly a tragedy - but mayhaps we can turn towards happier pursuits and the reason for our visit today."
"What did you have in mind, Princess Valyria?" Corlys asked while Viserys shook his head when Rhaenys offered him some wine.
Valyria turned to Viserys who coughed. Then he said, "I wish to propose a marriage between your son, Ser Laenor – and my daughter and heir – the Princess Rhaenyra. It's long past time our houses were united in blood. The last pillars of Old Valyria."
"You honour both me and my house, Your Grace," Corlys said, actually appearing a bit surprised by the offer. "There are certain details I would wish clarified before the Princess Rhaenys and I could accept this most – generous offer," he continued while Rhaenys stepped up towards the throne.
"What details?" Viserys asked, seemingly annoyed that the lord had not accepted the proposal without thought. Marrying the future Queen was something many would fight to death for.
"We would like to know how the succession – will be handled," Corlys explained.
For a second, Viserys looked over at Valyria before sighing, "Rhaenyra is my heir. Upon my death, my throne and my titles will pass to her. She and Ser Laenor's firstborn child, regardless of gender, will inherit the Iron Throne from her."
"Can I presume that, in keeping with Westerosi tradition – their children would take their father's name?" Corlys wondered. "That they would be born Velaryons?"
"The Targaryen dynasty will not end simply because a Queen is sat upon the Iron Throne," Valyria said calmly, yet her tone left no room for arguments. "But there is a way to compromise-"
Viserys coughed repeatedly, worrying Valyria who was at his side immediately. Corlys and Rhaenys both approached as well, the former asking, "Might I have a chair in for you?"
"I do not-" Viserys coughed again. "No, I do not require a chair," he forced a smile. With his still working hand, he gently tapped Valyria's hand that was resting on his arm, urging her to continue to take the attention away from his health.
"Upon their birth, Laenor and Rhaenyra's children will be given the Velaryon name - their father's name, in keeping with Westerosi traditions," Valyria explained. "However, when their firstborn takes the Iron Throne, it will be bearing the name Targaryen."
"Dragons will rule the Seven Kingdoms for the next hundred years - just as they did the last," Viserys finished.
Corlys and Rhaenys looked at each other, sharing a silent conversation before the Lord of High Tide said, "This is an equitable compromise."
"Of course it is, I came up with it," Valyria grinned to ease up the gloomy mood in the room.
"Excellent, now if there is nothing further," Viserys turned to leave the room without another word.
"Valyria, may I have a word?" Rhaenys asked before the younger princess could follow him.
"Of course," Valyria said, folding her hands behind her back.
"Viserys is he...?" Rhaenys asked with concern.
Sighing, Valyria said, "He has not been perfectly healthy for years - but I fear it's only getting worse. That's only one reason why he is eager to make sure the Targaryen line continues. Hopefully, Viserys will live for many more years but if he doesn't, Rhaenyra's line must be secured with husband and trueborn Targaryens to succeed her."
"Rhaenyra's succession will be challenged," Rhaenys pointed out. "There are many in the realm that will wish to see Prince Aegon on the throne."
"Rhaenys-"
"It's the truth, Corlys," Rhaenys interrupted her husband. "The realm had an opportunity to elect a Queen - to choose between two Queens - yet they chose to follow a man."
"I don't know what to tell you, cousin," Valyria said. "Venturing near the throne is a dangerous game. If Rhaenyra and Laenor can gather enough allies, their claim alongside their children would be safer."
"You two make it sound like we are already at war," Corlys told the two Targaryen women.
"Even without any actual battles or deaths one could argue that we are constantly at war," Valyria told the older man. "I love Aegon very much, but I am not blind to how Otto Hightower has spent every moment since the boy was born plotting on how to put him on the throne. But House Velaryon is rich and powerful, I am certain you can use your influence to get some allies. Make friends instead of foes for once."
"And where do you stand in all of this, Princess Valyria?" Corlys asked her, raising an eyebrow.
"I am loyal to the realm," Valyria told him. "All I ever do is what is best for the realm. Which is why I will soon be moving to Dorne."
"Dorne?" Rhaenys frowned in confusion.
"Our betrothal will be announced soon, but I am to marry Prince Qoren of House Martell," Valyria explained. "My hand in marriage was what the prince requested to pull his support from the Triarchy in the Stepstones." Smiling sarcastically, she added, "You are both welcome."
.•° ✿ °•.
117 AC, King's Landing
Upon Valyria's return to King's Landing, Serra told her about the news of Lady Rhea's death that had reached the dornishwoman just as Valyria left. Being reminded of the death of Daemon's wife only made Valyria more convinced it had been by his hand – and somehow she felt like it was her fault for pushing Daemon away.
Hoping to mend any cracks in the relation between House Royce and the Crown, Valyria personally sent a letter to Runestone, offering her condolences for the new lord. They would all have to play pretend and act as if it was an accident – despite rumours already flying around about the suspicious circumstances of Lady Rhea's death. Perhaps the royal wedding couldn't have been better timed.
All of King's Landing was bustling with excitement in preparation for the weeklong celebration leading up to the union between the Dragon and the Seahorse. Lords and ladies from all over the realm had been invited to witness the wedding of the future Queen.
Valyria had welcomed the distraction of helping Alicent with preparing the wedding. When a royal princess got married, the Queen usually partook in a lot of the decision-making; since Alicent was both inexperienced and not on the best terms with Rhaenyra, Valyria gladly assisted her.
For the opening feast, Valyria dressed in a beautiful red dress that Prince Qoren had sent her; he would not be attending the feast himself, yet he wrote that he wanted her to have a gift for the occasion - and she had written back pointing out that she wasn't the bride.
At first she had feared he sent her a dress of dornish style - which probably would have caused quite the scandal and had taken attention away from the bride - but while the dress was a bit more revealing than what Valyria usually wore it wasn't anything she was uncomfortable with.
The cherry red dress was tight around the bodice and cut to draw a reasonable attention towards her figure. It left her shoulders bare and the neckline was deep enough to reveal the top of her breasts. Clasps made out of black iron kept the straps together by her shoulders and matched the belt around her waist.
Her silver, wavy hair fell down to her waist with the exception of a few strands that had been braided into a crown around her head with red roses delicately placed into it. The only jewellery she wore was the Valyrian steel necklace Daemon had given her; the only reason being that she liked it and at least the bastard wouldn't get the satisfaction of seeing her wear it.
"It's with great pleasure that His Grace, King Viserys, announces the start of the royal wedding celebrations," Ser Harrold Westerling announced as the opening feast officially began. Valyria sat to Viserys's right side, a seat empty between them where the Queen would sit, while Rhaenyra was on his left. When the feast officially had started, it was time to announce all of their guests.
A table had been placed before the Iron Throne, up on the dais, giving the royal family a view of the throne room where smaller tables had been placed out for the noble houses. Behind the high table hung one banner showing the Targaryen's red, three headed dragon on a black field and one showing the seahorse of House Velaryon. Music played in the background but was drowned out by the constant chattering amongst the crowds.
"House Lannister, with their lord, Jason Lannister; Lord Paramount of the West and Master of Casterly Rock," Ser Harrold announced as the entire Lannister clan entered the throne room with Jason in tow. Cecily walked with them, dressed in the colours of her house - by order of her dearest cousin.
"House Hightower, with their lord, Horbert Hightower, Beacon of the South and Defender of the Citadel, the Voice of Oldtown," Ser Harrold continued as the Hightowes entered - a clear absence was the former Hand of the King.
"Do you think the nobles compete over who can have the longest titles?" Valyria whispered to Lord Strong who sat on her right. The Lord of Harrenhal actually cracked a smile at that.
The Lannister bowed and curtsied before the throne and Valyria smiled politely - both because it was her former in-laws and because Viserys appeared tired and Rhaenyra looked glum; one could have thought it was a funeral and not a wedding.
Dressed in white with her hair braided into an elaborate style atop of her head, Valyria and Rhaenyra couldn't look more different despite their shared Valyrian features - especially when one was smiling and the other frowning.
Jason climbed up the stairs to the dais while the rest of his family retreated to their table, and said, "Congratulations, Your Grace. You have made a fine match for the Princess."
"Thank you, Lord Jason," Rhaenyra smiled, but it was clearly faked. "I could think of no better man than Ser Laenor." The not so subtle dig would have been more amusing had Valyria's thoughts not drifted to her conversation with Rhaenys at Driftmark. Rhaenyra needed allies and insulting people - especially the prideful ones - would not get her any.
Jason chuckled bitterly, "Well, if this is only the welcome feast, I admit, I cannot imagine what you have planned for the wedding."
"Well, my daughter is the future Queen," Viserys pointed out, causing both him and Rhaenyra to share a smile, "I wanted this to be a wedding for the histories."
"Where is the Queen?" Jason then asked, looking at the empty seat between Valyria and Viserys. "I had hoped to pay my respects."
To help Viserys save face, Valyria said, "Queen Alicent has been such a great help to me planning all of this. She is still redying herself for the celebrations."
"This is why men wage war," Jason smirked, "because women would never be ready for the battle in time." He chuckled at his own joke.
"I think the reason men wage war is because they can't string more than two thoughts together and therefore have no idea how to solve conflicts using their minds," Valyria smiled sweetly at her former good-brother who laughed a little - because he had to.
"Your presence is always such a pleasure, Lord Jason," Rhaenyra said dryly, glaring at the man.
"Princess, Your Grace, Princess," Jason said before leaving.
Next came Horbert Hightower and his wife but before they could step up, a bearded man dressed in brown cut the line. It took Valyria a few seconds to recognize him but once she noticed the black studs and runes on his brown clothes she connected the dots.
"Your Grace, Princess Rhaenyra, Princess Valyria," he bowed before them, "congratulations are in order."
"We are very honoured to have you as a guest, Ser Gerold," Viserys said, a grim expression taking over his face. "I must say, I was most distressed to hear of the Lady Rhea's tragic passing. "I am very sorry for your loss."
"Lady Rhea was an unique character," Ser Gerold claimed, grief raw in his voice. "A kind - is not soon to be seen again."
"Lady Rhea was truly an inspiration for any young lady in the realm standing to inherit a seat," Valyria said. "I don't know if you received my letter, but if there is anything the crown might do to aid House Royce, you should only ask."
"I thank you for your words, Princess Valyria-"
Drumming cut Ser Gerold off before he could finish. With a bow of the head, he retreated to his seat while everyone else parted as the double doors to the Great Hall opened and Ser Harrold announced, "Lord Corlys of House Velaryon. Lord of the Tides, Master of Driftmark. And his lady wife, Princess Rhaenys Targaryen. And their son and heir, Ser Laenor Velaryon, the future King Consort."
Valyria had to admit, the Velaryons knew how to make an entrance. They made a powerful impression walking up towards the great table while everyone in the room - even the royal family - stood up and clapped for the future King Consort and his family. They all bowed before the King, Laenor standing in the centre of his relatives.
Rhaenyra left her place beside Viserys and met up with Laenor halfway. Valyria was proud of Nyra for playing her part for once; she didn't know what had occurred between Rhaenyra and Laenor when they took a promenade down the beaches on Driftmark, but at least they seemed to have come to some sort of understanding.
"My betrothed," Rhaenyra said, placing her hand in his.
"My betrothed," Laenor repeated, kissing her hand, making everyone applaud again. Corlys and Rhaenys alongside Laena joined them up on the great table with Laenor sitting beside his betrothed. For some reason, Viserys looked a bit glum all of a sudden so Valyria decided to try to cheer him up.
"You would not let me make an entrance like that," Valyria pouted, earning a chuckle from the King.
"You entered with me, Lyria," Viserys pointed out playfully, "and there is no greater honour than walking with the King."
"Aye, but I had to share the attention with you," Valyria deadpanned as everyone sat down to eat, a smile still on her face.
However, looking towards the entrance, that smile dropped at once...
It was like the entire room was stunned into silence; for Valyria everything else seemed insignificant as she watched the Rogue Prince approach the daze. Her orchid coloured eyes were narrowed and her hands clenched into fists in her lap. The idiot had the audacity to show up - after having been exiled for allegedly fucking his niece - on a feast to celebrate said niece's wedding; not to mention that his wife recently had passed under strange circumstances and he was smirking like he had won a tournament.
Any sane man would lay low until all of these had blown over...
Only Daemon Targaryen was not the most well-balanced man in Westeros.
Dressed in a black overcoat over a red tunic, with his short silver hair slicked back, Daemon sauntered towards the high table. Murmurs followed him and Viserys froze as he watched his younger brother's approach.
"Fucking cunt," Valyria muttered under her breath. The only one who heard it seemed to be Lord Strong who sent her a disapproving look to which she offered a sheepish one in return. Then she couldn't help but glance over at the new Lord of Runestone who glared at the Rogue Prince.
Daemon stopped before them; the Targaryen brothers were engaged in a staring match with Daemon daring Viserys to make a scene. To openly dismiss him in front of the realm.
Viserys broke eye contact and motioned for a Kingsguard to bring a share forward for the prince. Daemon chuckled to himself, probably proud of himself for managing to push the King's buttons. He knew very well that Viserys never openly would shame him like that.
Daemon sent a discreet wink towards Valyria who pursed her lips in annoyance as he took his seat at the edge of the table, with only Lord Strong sitting between the two. Deciding to ignore him, Valyria turned her attention towards Viserys - not missing the longing glances Rhaenyra threw at Daemon.
Forcing a smile, Viserys said, "Be welcome, as we join together in celebration. Tonight is only its beginning. We honour the crown's oldest and fiercest allies - House Velaryon. Reaching back to the days of Old Valyria and the Age of Dragons. With House Targaryen and Hou-"
The way the King trailed off caused confusion amongst the crowd. Valyria followed his gaze and found Alicent standing by the double doors. Dressed in a velvet green dress, she looked like a Hightower for the first time since her marriage to the King. Guests murmured as she descended the stairs and walked towards the high table. The Hightowers were the first guests to stand up for their kin and soon the others joined. Alicent kept her head held high and her eyes firmly on the King.
Soon everyone in the Great Hall stood up except for two: Daemon and Valyria.
Daemon's reasoning was probably that he would never be able to show any respect towards Otto Hightower's daughter.
Valyria on the other hand couldn't bring herself to stand, only to smirk. While she didn't condone the way Alicent had interrupted Viserys's speech seeing as the King was absent minded already, it made her happy to see the young girl break out of her shell. To show everyone that she was more than just a timid and loyal broodmare; something that every woman deserved.
"Congratulations, stepdaughter," Alicent said as she reached them. "What a blessing this is for you." She then leaned up to kiss Viserys on the cheek in greeting and stood beside him. Nervously, she threw a quick glance at Valyria who offered a quick smile, making the Queen straighten up even more.
"Please be seated," Viserys said after a few moments of silence, where the Queen and Crown Princess seemed to be having a staring match. Everyone lowered down to their seats and Viserys coughed, he was about to start again but clearly could not remember where he had been forced to end.
Valyria held her hand up in front of her face and whispered, "Reaching back to the days of Old Valyria and the Age of Dragons. With House Targaryen and House – and there you go."
"With House Targaryen and House Velaryon united," Viserys continued, "I hope to herald a second Age of Dragons in Westeros."
Everyone clapped and some banged the tables, "And after tonight's small affair," he joked, causing everyone to laugh, "seven days of tournament and feasting – and at the end of it all – a royal wedding between my daughter and Ser Laenor Velaryon, the heir to Driftmark."
Applause echoed across the hall once more and before the King sat down, he finished his speech with, "It's also with great pleasure, that I am to announce that after moons of negotiations with Qoren Martell, the Prince of Dorne, that we have found a way to bring Dorne closer to the rest of the Seven Kingdoms. And to solidify this new era of friendship, my dear cousin – Princess Valyria, the daughter of Prince Daeron, will marry Prince Qoren."
Suddenly hundreds of eyes turned towards Valyria instead; she simply kept a courtly smile on her lips as she accepted their applause. No doubt this union came as a shock to many since the dornish wanted nothing to do with the rest of the Seven Kingdoms.
One pair of eyes burned into the side of her head but she ignored them.
.•° ✿ °•.
Drums echoed in the hall as Princess Rhaenyra and Ser Laenor took the dance floor. All eyes were on them as they spun around each other with well-choreographed movements. To her left, the King and Queen glanced awkwardly towards each other; Alicent had not smiled since she sat down. Once again, Valyria tried to bring some humour into the situation, "I sincerely hope it wasn't part of your new deal with Dorne that I am to do this on my wedding."
"Do not worry, Lyria," Viserys told her, even though his eyes remained on the dancefloor. "From what I have heard, it's more likely you will have a swordfight than a dance." When the dance ended everyone clapped and more couples joined the dancefloor. Alicent stood up and left the high table without a word as the drumming began again.
"In the Vale," Gerold Royce said, having approached the high table once more, "men are made to answer to their crimes." Sighing deeply, Valyria turned her attention towards Daemon despite having done her best to ignore him this far. "Even Targaryens."
"Who are you?" Daemon asked, sitting in his chair with a casual form of elegance that only he possessed.
"Ser Gerold Royce of Runestone," he introduced himself. Beside her, Valyria noticed how Lord Strong looked between the two men with concern - this could very well escalate.
"And?" Daemon said, appearing bored.
With poorly contained anger on his face, Ser Gerold climbed up the stairs to the dais, "I am cousin to your late lady wife."
"Ah, yes, terrible thing," Daemon said apathetically. "I am positively bereft. Such a tragic accident."
"You know better than anyone, it was no accident," Gerold stated accusingly.
"Are you confessing some guilt, Ser Gerold?" Daemon smirked.
"I am making an accusation," Gerold sneered. Before things could escalate further, Valyria stood up, sending a reassuring looks towards Lord Strong and Viserys, telling them that she'd handle it.
"You know, in King's Landing, men are made to answer for their slanders," Daemon stated, gaze shifting over to his brother who simply scowled at him. "Even old, bronze-"
"That is quite enough," Valyria said firmly, an easy smile remaining on her face to keep up appearances. "When grieving we say things we later regret." Stopping behind Daemon, she rested a hand on Daemon's back.
For any onlookers it might appear as if she had placed her hand against the back of his chair. But the way Valyria carefully wrapped around the back of his neck, nails scraping against his skin and fingers threading warningly in his hair, she could inflict just the right amount of pain should she wish to.
"The truth is, I'm glad you've come," Daemon smirked again, not making anything better - but then again, when did he ever? "I wish to speak to you about my inheritance."
Warningly, Valyria dug her nails deeper into his skin while Gerold snapped, "What inheritance?"
"Lady Rhea and I had no heirs. As her husband, whatever she was due now passes to me. She stood to inherit all of Runestone, did she not?" Daemon asked him with poorly hidden smugness.
"But of course, despite what laws and customs say, Prince Daemon will take into consideration the – unusual circumstances of his union with Lady Rhea," Valyria cut in before Daemon could continue, twirling a piece of hair around her finger and yanking it without even looking down at him. "It is no secret that he and your cousin did not see much of each other and since he has not been to Runestone one time after his wedding, Daemon believes it is for the best for Runestone to return into the possession of House Royce."
"Actually-" Daemon visibly winced a bit, gritting his teeth together when Valyria somehow managed to dig her nails into his scalp and pull his hair harshly at the same time whilst still smiling kindly towards Ser Gerold. Daemon was not used to somebody having the upper hand against him like this. He sent her a dark scowl, rolling his eyes as he said, "The Vale is a dreary land with dull people. I wouldn't want that old, ugly castle anyways."
That earned him another jolt of pain as Valyria said, "Send my regards to Lady Jeyne, Ser Gerold," Valyria told him.
"Of course, thank you, Princess Valyria," Ser Gerold said gratefully, offering her a bow before retreating to his seat - but now without sending Daemon another harsh glare.
"Runestone belongs to me by law," Daemon told her, sending a glare over his shoulder.
"Yes, but you only want it out of spite," Valyria released the back of his neck. "You would never return to the Vale willingly — there is no one of enough importance for you to annoy up there. And when I have you here, I must express my condolences," she told him with faux sympathy, "I was sorry to hear about the passing of your lady wife."
"Don't be, I wasn't," Daemon told her bluntly, making Valyria scoff in disbelief. He could not even pretend to be a decent human being.
Valyria attempted to walk away from him, only for Daemon to grab ahold of her wrist. "Has anyone told you how breathtakingly beautiful you are this evening? And when I did not think it possible for a human to grow more beautiful, you started threatening me."
She huffed in disbelief, glaring down at Daemon and was about to retort something snarky when a man approached the high table. "Princess Valyria, might I have the honour of a dance?"
Slowly, she broke the glaring match she was having with Daemon and turned to see the heir to Harrenhal, Ser Harwin 'Breakbones' Strong holding out his hand for her; some claimed he was the strongest man in Westeros and his tall and brawny stature did give quite the intimidating impression towards the other knights in the battleyard.
"Of course, Ser Harwin," Valyria smiled courteously. She snatched her wrist free from Daemon's tight grasp and threw a dark look over her shoulder, only to find him glaring at Breakbones. Then she allowed Ser Harwin to escort her down to the dancefloor.
"Congratulations on your betrothal to Prince Qoren," Ser Harwin told her as they began dancing.
"Thank you," Valyria responded.
"You sound possibly thrilled," Ser Harwin said sarcastically, twirling her around.
"I can only focus on one wedding at a time," Valyria shrugged.
"Will your wedding be as grand as this one?" Harwin asked, a teasing glint in his eyes.
"I wouldn't know, I have never married a dornishman before," Valyria responded. "We will just have to see what sort of wedding the Prince of Dorne wishes to have."
"You will not marry here in King's Landing?" Ser Harwin asked.
"I don't think we should risk the dornish rebelling against their prince," Valyria responded. "Not to mention that Lord Beesbury's heart probably would stop if he found out we'd have to take more coins out of the royal treasury to pay for another wedding."
After her dance with Ser Harwin, several other men approached asking her for a dance while also passing on their well-wishes. The crowd was growing drunker and more loud for every passing second.
"Princess Valyria, you are the image of the maiden herself this evening."
Valyria turned to see none other than Loran Tyrell standing before her. His hair was longer than the last time she had seen him, yet he was still a very handsome man in his early twenties. "I thank you, Lord Tyrell," Valyria said. "It's lovely to have you back at court. It's been too long since your last visit."
"May I have this dance?" he asked, bowing a little while offering his hand. When she accepted, he led her into the centre of the room. "I must say, I was surprised to hear that the King wished to wed you to a dornishman. Although, I do not fault Prince Qoren for wanting the hand of the most beautiful woman in the realm."
"You are too kind," she told him as the two twirled around with the other couples.
It was weird how Valyria felt his presence behind her even before Daemon cut in, placing a hand on Loran's shoulder, "May I, Lord Tyrell?" he asked, even though everyone knew it was more of a command than a question.
Loran Tyrell gritted his teeth, annoyed that the Rogue Prince once more interrupted their conversation. But there was little he could do about it, "Of course, my Prince," he said. Then he turned to Valyria, took her hand and pressed a quick kiss against her knuckles. "My Princess."
Had it not been for how she didn't wish to make a scene, Valyria would have slapped Daemon's hand away when gently grabbed her arm and started leading her through the dancing couples, away from the dancefloor. Once they were no longer disrupting anyone's dance he turned to her.
"Is this what you want?" Daemon motioned around the room, speaking in High Valyrian.
"This is not my wedding," Valyria reminded him. "Perhaps you are confusing the relatives you have attempted to bed recently."
"This is not for you. None of it is," Daemon said surely. A sneer appeared on his face as he continued, "Prince Qoren is rumoured to be a fine warrior and a fair ruler. He will bore you senseless."
"He will not bore me," Valyria glared up at him. "You don't even know him."
"I know you," Daemon stepped closer, forcing her to tilt her head up to look him in the eye. "You are restless. You can fool yourself into thinking otherwise, but you know that you love arguing with me. I see it in your eyes - how they light up whenever you throw an insult my way."
"I'm sure there will be people for me to argue with in Dorne," Valyria scoffed. "And why should it matter if he bores me. Marriage is only a political arrangement, I have been told."
"Mine was recently dissolved," Daemon reminded her, eyes not leaving Valyria for a second. For him, there was no one else in the room but her. "That was your reasoning for pushing me away, was it not? That I already had a wife."
"I did not ask you to kill your wife for me," Valyria snapped at him, only now realising how close they were standing. She could practically feel his warm breath against her cheek.
"You assume the worst of me-"
"I know the worst of you," Valyria told him. The reasonable part of her brain screamed for her to back away - only she couldn't bring herself to do so.
"Yet you still want me," Daemon's lips curled into a smirk.
She hated how he was right. Killing his wife and almost bedding Rhaenyra was not something completely unexpected when it came to Daemon. Valyria knew exactly what kind of man he was and it was no knight in shining armour. Yet for some reason, she had sold herself to the dornish to save him.
Daemon was unreliable, violent and impulsive – but for some reason Valyria wanted him. He infuriated her more than anyone else and most of the time all she wanted was to rip his throat out and despite that, she cared for him. Not in the same way she did the rest of her family - no this was beyond that.
It was wrong of her to want him of all the other men in Westeros. Especially now when she had a betrothed - she had a duty to the realm. As a princess she would serve the realm by marrying the Prince of Dorne and bring peace to the Seven Kingdoms. Following her own heart would be selfish of her.
"So take me then," Valyria challenged him, barely registering her own words as they escaped her. "I am only betrothed so far, not yet married. But the moons will pass swiftly. You are surely armed - you could cut through the Kingsguard."
Daemon's jaw was set and his amethyst eyes looked so deeply into hers that it was like he could see through her soul. Valyria continued, "Take me to Dragonstone and make me your wife." One of Daemon's hands grabbed her by the neck; the fingers underneath her chin forced it upwards while his thumb caressed her cheek. "If you think you can make me happy, then I'm yours."
A scream echoed across the hall, breaking Valyria out of her daze. All the guests around them moved like bees in different directions. Grunts and swords clashing could be heard, only it was impossible to see where the commotion was coming from over the heads of the curious nobles.
Up on the high table, Queen Alicent stood up to see what was happening and the King did the same, "What in the Seven Hells is going on?"
Daemon tried to drag Valyria away from the crowd but this time she acted quicker. She managed to break out of his hold and push into the crowd in search of Rhaenyra and Laenor. He tried to follow her but the nobles started pushing against each other when guards also entered the scene.
Valyria was harshly shoved to the side and winced in pain when she crashed into the edge of a table. But she ignored the pain in her side and pushed through the crowd, finding Rhaenyra in there. The young princess was looking around frantically, calling for her betrothed. Her small stature did nothing to help her amongst the panicking lords and ladies who didn't even realise they were pushing the future Queen around.
"Rhaenyra," Valyria called, gaining her attention.
"Valyria," Rhaenyra breathed out a sigh of relief. "I can't find Laenor."
"STOP THIS!" Viserys yelled from the dais, eyes scanning the crowd. "Where is Rhaenyra and Valyria?"
Lord Lyonel Strong looked over at his son and gave him a silent command to find the princesses. Ser Harwin pushed through the crowd with ease, throwing men away like ragdolls when they stood in his way.
Meanwhile, Valyria had pushed Rhaenyra behind her while she tried to find out what was going on. Clearly there was a fight but unfortunately the idiots on the dancefloor formed a wall around those fighting, making it impossible for the guards to break up the fight.
When she saw the approach of Ser Harwin she told him, "Get Rhaenyra out of here before she gets hurt."
"I can't leave you here-"
"That's an order, Ser Harwin," Valyria commanded and now when she knew Rhaenyra was in better hands, she pushed through the crowd.
The sight that met her when she reached the fight made Valyria want to hurl. Ser Criston had Joffrey Lonmouth - Laenor's lover - pinned to the ground and was punching him repeatedly in the face. Around them, the lords and ladies watched in horror.
"CRISTON THAT IS ENOUGH!" Valyria commanded, slapping away the hand of a guard who tried to hold her back.
Ser Criston froze in his movements and stopped his brutal beating - but it was too late for the Knight of Kisses. Ser Joffrey's face was beaten beyond recognition, the skull visible under all the blood as he laid limp on the ground.
The Kingsguard breathed heavily and his dark eyes met Valyria's for a second. But he could not bear to look at her - not when she clearly was horrified by his actions. There was something utterly crushing about being the one to cause such a reaction from Princess Valyria who always was so kind to everyone she met. He stood up and walked out of the Great Hall.
Most of the crowd dispersed and that's when Valyria saw Laenor. Ser Criston had clearly knocked him out during the fight and now he was slowly crawling towards his former lover that laid in a pool of his own blood on the ground.
Valyria acted quickly, dropping down to her knees between Laenor and Joffrey's body before he could reach it. She pulled Laenor into a tight embrace and with some difficulty - due to her dress - she managed to turn them so that his back was against the corpse.
He struggled against her hold, wailing loudly and the sound of his heartbreak rang through the hall. "He's gone, Laenor," Valyria told him gently, not letting him go. She would not allow him to see his love like that.
"No, no, no," Laenor repeated, burying his head in Valyria's neck, sobbing loudly.
"I'm so sorry, darling," Valyria whispered, her own eyes not leaving the gruesome sight in front of her. Gently, she stroked his back like she would do with her daughters. It reminded Valyria of when they had been young children and she had to comfort Laenor after getting injured on the training yard.
Of all the things they had imagined could ruin this wedding - no one anticipated this...
.•° ✿ °•.
"The love of the Seven is holy and eternal. The course of life and love," The High Septon said, his voice echoing through the almost empty throne room. "We stand here tonight in thanks and praise to join two souls as one."
What a pitiful sight this was.
A wedding to be remembered for centuries Viserys had wished for and perhaps it would; only this wedding would be remembered for how a Kingsguard beat another man to death and how seven days of celebration turned into this - the future Queen and King Consort being wed with only six witnesses while the blood of the groom's dead lover had yet to be cleaned from the floor.
"Father, Mother, Warrior, Smith, Maiden, Crone, Stranger, hear now their vows," the High Septon continued.
Rhaenyra leaned up to place a kiss on Laenor's cheek while he sniffled, "I am yours and you are mine. Whatever may come."
"I am yours, and you are mine," Rhaenyra repeated, her voice much stronger than her soon to be husband. She did not cry, but the tears in her eyes were ready to fall at any moment. "Whatever may come."
"Here, in the presence of Gods and men, I proclaim Laenor of House Velaryon, Rhaenyra of House Targaryen, to be man and wife," the High Septon continued. "One flesh. One heart. One soul. Now and forever."
Beside her, Valyria could hear Viserys's breathing grow heavier. Her attention turned to him and she could see him sway, eyes dropping close. "Viserys!" she exclaimed, reaching forward in time to catch him. His weight was too much for her to hold up and it sent them both falling to the ground; however, she did manage to break his fall a bit.
The King's crown fell off his head, clanging against the ground, landing just by Valyria's feet.