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68% The Dragons Realm: A House Targaryen Story / Chapter 34: Chapter 18: A Royal Wedding (Vaemond, Nyel)

Chapter 34: Chapter 18: A Royal Wedding (Vaemond, Nyel)

๐Ÿ—๐ญ๐ก ๐Œ๐จ๐จ๐ง, ๐Ÿ–๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ๐Ÿ”

๐…๐ข๐ž๐ฅ๐๐ฌ ๐จ๐ฎ๐ญ๐ฌ๐ข๐๐ž ๐Š๐ข๐ง๐ ๐ฌ ๐‹๐š๐ง๐๐ข๐ง๐ 

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The sun was shining brightly as Vaemond approached his horse. An excited murmur made its way through the crowd.

Corlys Velaryon was at his side, the dust of the tourney grounds mixing with the sweltering heat ''I've asked around about your opponentโ€ฆ.but i'm afraid I don't have much advice for youโ€ฆ.Ser Orson is unpredictable.''

Vaemond nodded, mounting his horse, as he was only 14, he had no squire of his own so Omer Bulwer, the boy who had come to be fostered by the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard due to his fathers prowess in the lists some years ago attended him.

The young squire had already helped him into his armor, black plate with a golden dragon emblem, but now that he was mounted he handed Vaemond a black helm, a slit to see through, then a lance and shield None of the equipment was scaled down, despite being only 14, Vaemond found he was the same size if not taller of many men in the court with a strength to match.

His opponent, a younger brother of the lord of Farring Cross was less impressive, wearing a leather jerkin, mail, and a surcoat, bright purple and white in the colors of his house.

Vaemond steadied himself, preparing for the signal to be given by the trumpeters.

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It was to be Vaemonds first joust. Once word that Matarys and Demerei Royce were to be wed, Brynden Tully, commander of the Gold Cloaks and overseer of Kings Landing had announced that he would fund a small tourney as his gift for the newly weds, rather ironic as the aging man had lost his leg in one some years prior.

It was to be a small affair, with only the knights of the Kinsguard and combatants from the castles and lands surrounding the capitol, a region that had become known as the Crownlands ever since Aegon's conquest. Vaemond had been determined to take part, and his mother had of course offered a feeble resistance, but not much, she was always so tired lately, though he had thought that he had even seen a glimpse of pride on her face when she came to wish him well.

''It's your first joustโ€ฆ..so don't try and inspire a song by doing something outlandishโ€ฆ.shield up, lance downโ€ฆafter that it's all luckโ€ฆand horsemanship'' Corlys said, patting the mounted Vaemond on the leg.

Vaemond supposed he should have some measure of fear, he had seen the consequences of a joust gone wrong, Orys Baratheon his fathers best friend and half-brother had lost his eye on this very field, as Ser Brynden had lost his leg, but all he could feel in his body was excitement, few things scared him after his fall from the crows nest in the Sunset Sea.

Vaemond would have liked to give a look to his sister, brother, and mother in the royal pavilion, but the dust and sun meant he could only make out the dragon banner.

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The trumpets heralded the beginning of the joust, and Vaemond sent his horse, a brown warhorse, thundering forward at Ser Orson Farring. Jousting was an activity that required a good deal of self awareness, when to go on the attack, and when to realize you were in a poor position and attempt to defend.

Vaemond rode well on his first tilt, but Ser Orson rode with the experience of a man used to participating in tourneys, and it was his lance that struck first, Vaemond had been so sure he was in a good position to strike first he had not even attempted to block the strike, but by chance Ser Orsons blow hit his shield, shattering it and sending wood chips flying everywhere, and the two riders prepared to go again, with Omer Bulwer handing Vaemond another shield. The second tilt saw neither rider shatter a lance and they prepared for the third, and decisive tilt which ended in Vaemond falling from his horse into the dirt, causing a loud murmur through the crowd.

Ser Orson dismounted immediately, and to the crowd's relief, helped Vaemond up, who began to dust himself off. Ser Orson Farring dispensed with the need for Vaemond to ransom his horse and black and golden plate armor, and Vaemond made his way back to the royal pavilion, a little bruised but otherwise unharmed.

''I am glad you are unhurt Vae.'' Matarys, who was sitting beside Demerei Royce said.

''You rode well brother.'' Nyel said graciously as he took a seat.

Vaemond shook his head ''I rode well in the first tilt but I was never anywhere close to landing a hit in any of the others.''

''Stillโ€ฆ.for your first joustโ€ฆ.'' Nyel offered, taking his shoulder gently and picking out a wood chip that had embedded in his tunic.

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''If I'm to be King I will have to deal with worse than the likes of Orson Farring.'' Vaemond said, somewhat sullenly as Nyel pulled out the shard.

''And when you do deal with themโ€ฆ.it will not be on the tourney groundsโ€ฆ.jousting is a game for old done men and young boys to play at warโ€ฆ.your father never rode in them.'' His mother said, approaching, her voice sharp as it was so often.

''Well I enjoyed it nonetheless.'' Vaemond responded, feeling like a fool the moment the words left his mouth, it was his curse.

His mother nodded curtly at that ''You enjoyed it because you are yet a boy Vaemondโ€ฆ.when you see battle perhaps you will enjoy it less.''

The rest of the jousting was concluded within a few hours as it was a smaller tourney. Ser Gregor Goode, and Ser Roland Crakehall of the Kinsguard rode well, as did Lord Jarman Chyttering of the Kingswood, but in the end it had been the newest and youngest member of the Kingsguard, Ser Roland Crakehall who had won the honors.

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By the time Ser Roland had secured his victory, dusk had come, and the tourney ground began to empty, most of the spectators reluctantly returning to their homes or taverns, while the most notable guests made their way to the Sept for the wedding between Matarys Targaryen and Demerei Royce.

Visenya had chosen to hold the wedding in the small sept within the Aegonfort, with only those of suitable rank being invited. Orys Baratheon was present, as was Lord Jarman Chyttering of the Kingswood. Lord Nestor Royce and his wife Nynia, who had been named Queen of Love and Beauty all those years ago, were standing at the front rank to see their daughter married, Rhaenys had made the trip from Storms End as well, giving Vaemond a smile as he entered the small sept, she looked pale however, and had heard his mother mention she suffered from the same cancer that Ser Corlys did.

A plump septon stood at the altar, moonlight pouring through the seven glass windows.

Matarys stood in front of him, his silver hair shaved short and dressed in a tight fitting black leather jerkin with red garnets set about the neck. Demerei Royce was beside him.

Matarys had grown taller since Vaemond had seen him last, but Demeri stood a few inches taller still, her light brown hair, which matched her eyes was pulled back and she wore a white dress. Her thin lips had a small smile on them as she stood next to Matarys.

Once it was clear all those in attendance were present, the plump septon began the ceremony.

''In the sight of gods and menโ€ฆ.we call upon the seven to witnesโ€ฆ'' The septon began before Matarys gave a small chuckle.

''My good septonโ€ฆ.there are no gods here.'' Matarys said matter of factly, causing the plump septon to gasp and an awkward silence to fill the sept.

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''Blasphemy....'' The septon said after some pause, raising a meaty finger towards the prince.

Vaemond saw his mother was about to stand up but before she could Demerei Royce interjected.

''Forgive me septon, but I believe my betrothed meant no offenseโ€ฆonly to point out that not all the seven are here at this moment, would it not be more fitting to ask the mother, maiden, and crone to witness our vowsโ€ฆsurely the warrior has little interest in weddings.'' Demerei Royce pointed out, it was clear she was extremely intelligent.

The septon paused at that ''Wellโ€ฆhmmm..Iโ€ฆ.perhaps.'' he said, clearly flustered.

''Continue Septon Owen.'' Visenya commanded and the ceremony went without further interruption.

When the time came, Nestor Royce, Lord of Runestone approached his daughter and removed her wedding cloak, which was pale orange cloth with black cloth stitched in the shape of runes of the first men.

Matarys took his own cloak, black as midnight with a dark red dragon and placed it on her shoulders with some difficulty, welcoming Demerei Royce into the protection of House Targaryen.

Once this was done, the septon, still somewhat perturbed about the earlier interruption, said the customary words, with the betrothed giving oaths of love and loyalty before exchanging a kiss, officially binding House Targaryen and House Royce.

Following this, the small procession moved to the Aegonfort where a feast had been prepared which went on for several hours, there was no bedding ceremony as the two were still young however.

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๐Œ๐ข๐๐ง๐ข๐ ๐ก๐ญ

๐•๐š๐ž๐ฆ๐จ๐ง๐๐ฌ ๐‚๐ก๐š๐ฆ๐›๐ž๐ซ๐ฌ

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Vaemond was awoken by his door creaking open, a figure holding a candle making their way through the door before carefully shutting it.

Vaemond propped himself up, squinting in the darkness to figure out who it was as the figure approached, the candle illuminating the silver hair and violet eyes of his sister.

''Nyel?'' Vaemond asked with confusion.

She put a lip to her lips and approached his bed.

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''How did you get past the Kingsguard?'' Vaemond asked with confusion, his door was guarded in shifts by his Kinsguard throughout the night.

''Changing of the guard.'' Nyel responded quietly

''It's a good thing you're not an assassinโ€ฆ..it seems I'm easier to kill than I thought'' Vaemond said, still groggy from sleep.

She ignored that and put a hand on his shoulder, gently, Vaemond grimaced and pulled away, both in pain and with a little embarrassment, he had fallen on the shoulder hard during the tourney.

''What are you doing?'' He asked.

''You're wounded worse than I thought your Grace.'' She said, gently massaging it.

''You don't have to call me that.'' Vaemond said, looking at her, noticing not for the first time how her violet eyes seemed to sparkle.

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Afterwards he couldn't say how it started but suddenly he was kissing her, while she gently pushed him down onto the bed and unlaced his shirt, he didn't resist her.

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๐ƒ๐ž๐š๐ ๐จ๐Ÿ ๐๐ข๐ ๐ก๐ญ

๐•๐š๐ž๐ฆ๐จ๐ง๐๐ฌ ๐‚๐ก๐š๐ฆ๐›๐ž๐ซ๐ฌ

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Nyel stood in the familiar blackness, the void she called it. It had been months since she had last dreamed itโ€ฆ.since before her father had died.

She saw nothing at first but turned.

To her right a figure appeared, featureless and dark the shadow approached, leaning on a cane. Three sharp black swords followed him, dancing through the air, leaving behind a purple mist.

''Boy.'' The figure said the word echoing throughout the dark like a clash of steel, the figure approaching before at last disappearing, the next part of the vision filled her mind.

Nyel was gone from the darkness, in a tower chamber, oddly familiar to her.

A figure approached her, short hair like silver, reaching out a hand.

She bit him, hot blood coursing through her mouth, a shrill scream puncturing the silence of the dark.

๐˜›๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฃ๐˜ญ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ฐ๐˜ง ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฅ๐˜ณ๐˜ข๐˜จ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ The words entered her mind.

Suddenly she was off the ground,small wings as white as snow carrying her into the distance.

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She was back in the dark and the stench of death, the most vile smell that she had ever encountered filled the air, choking her, strangling her.

She fell to the ground, hearing a shuffling noise.

She turned and then she saw it, a shadow cloaked by a black hood approached.

She felt tears as cold as ice falling down her face at the sight of it, and suddenly she was fighting it, attempting to pull some unseen object from its hands, shrieking, pleading and screaming but to no avail.

The figure pulled down its hood, a face cracked and gray with yellow eyes staring back, causing her to fall to the ground, losing her grip on the unseen object.

๐˜”๐˜บ ๐˜ง๐˜ข๐˜ถ๐˜ญ๐˜ต Another figure said to her, its voice full of grief, oddly familiar.

Nyel awoke in a cold sweat, the gray shadows face slowly fading from her mind.

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She looked around and realized she was still in her brother's chambers, cursing as she realized she had slept. She had meant to leave his chambers at the next changing of the guard, but now it would be impossible to get out without being discovered.

Before she could rouse Vaemond, who was sleeping soundly beside her, to cause a distraction, a blood piercing scream echoed throughout the keep, providing more than enough distraction as she heard the Kingsguard outside her brother's door run down the hall.

Vaemond woke up and immediately pulled on a tunic, scarcely giving Nyel a look as he ran off to investigate, giving Nyel privacy to dress.

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When she had, she slowly made her way to the scene that was unfolding just a few doors downโ€ฆ.around her brother Matarys's chamber.

On the floor was her brother, leaving against his bed groaning, a chunk of his hand missing, red blood pouring onto the fine carpets of the chamber, Demerei Royce was at his side, comforting him, while an Iron cage stood open in the corner of the room.

After Grandmaester Arlan had stemmed the bleeding with firemilk, the truth gradually came out. Though the marriage had not been consummated as Demerei Royce was still too young, the two newlyweds had shared a bed in a ceremonial fashion.

Upon the morning, Matarys, feeling the effects of several cups of wine from the wedding feast and wanting to impress Demerei opened the dragon Moondancers cage to attempt to hold him. The dragon was no longer a little hatchling and was the size of a small dog and had reacted with hostility, attacking the prince and flying off, but not before taking a chunk of his hand with him.

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๐“๐ฐ๐จ ๐๐ข๐ ๐ก๐ญ๐ฌ ๐‹๐š๐ญ๐ž๐ซ

๐•๐š๐ž๐ฆ๐จ๐ง๐๐ฌ ๐‚๐ก๐š๐ฆ๐›๐ž๐ซ๐ฌ

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Vaemond took one last look at the map before stuffing it in his satchel, donning a hooded cloak and opening the door quietly, where Lord Commander Corlys Velaryon was waiting.

The two made their way through the deserted halls of the Aegonfort before they were soon outside, the chill of night hitting Vaemond and he pulled his cloak tighter against his body.

''Last chance to turn back.'' The Lord Commander said, armored in white enamel plate with a flowing white cloak, a far cry from his young charges subtlety.

''No chance.'' Vaemond said and the two continued towards the stables, mounting two horses and riding through the gates, which were opened immediately when the guards saw the white armor of the Kinsguard, little attention being placed on his hooded companion.

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They rode through the streets of Kings Landing, the smell of shit and cheap beer hitting them as they passed through Eel Alley, a few drunk men stumbled outside various small taverns and wine sinks but otherwise the streets were near empty.

Vaemond looked up at the hill where the Red Keep was being constructed and improved, the red bricks visible in the moonlight, a far more impressive sight even unfinished than the timber Aegonfort.

After a time they eventually reached the Lion Gate and similarly to the Aegonfort, the guards let the Lord Commander out without any question.

After that they rode west, following the river of the Blackwater Rush, Vaemond urged his horse forward into a gallop, pulling down his hood and feeling the cool night breeze on his face, the Lord Commander followed close behind, following the young prince's pace.

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The two were headed west to track down the dragon Moondancer, which according to reports had made its way to a small island on the river a few miles from Kings Landing, snapping at any fishermen that got too close.

Vaemond had intended to ride alone at first, sneaking out of the palace. The dragon Moondancer, despite its fierceness was only three feet long and it was only a matter of time before the fishermen decided enough was enough and attacked it, his mother was planning to travel to the island on the back of Vhagar and coax it back to the city but she was busy as of late and it could be too late by the time that happened so Vaemond decided to take matters into his own hands

Vaemond had felt sick with the idea of deceiving his Kingsguard, potentially exposing them to chastisement if he escaped under their watch so earlier that night he had opened the door and had the Kingsguard Ser Garmon Hightower bring him to the White Sword Tower to speak with Corlys.

He was very close with his distant cousin, and confided near everything in the Lord Commander, even telling him, red faced, what had occurred with Nyel. Lord Commander Corlys agreed that something should be done about Moondancer and agreed to help Vaemond, but with the non negotiable condition that he escort the prince to Moondancers hideout.

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''I'm surprised it managed to get so far for such a small thing.'' Corlys said, breaking the silence as they slowed their horses to a trot, giving the horses a reprieve.

''I find it unwise to be surprised at anything a Dragon doesโ€ฆ.small it may be but it has the blood of Balerion in its veins.'' Vaemond said with a small smile, earning a nod from the Kingsguard.

Among a pile of reeds they found a small rowboat, Corlys left a small purse of 50 silver stags for the owner and they pushed it into the Blackwater Rush, heading upstream.

Not long after the small island came into sight, along with its occupant. Vaemond had to admit his brother did a fine job naming the dragon as Moondancer was aptly named. White as fresh fallen snow with small smooth scales the small dragon was sleeping in the middle of the island, sticking out in the dark waters of the Blackwater Rush much like the moon in the night sky.

They paddled slowly through the dark river until they reached it, the dragon still unaware of their presence.

''I'll go alone.'' Vaemond said softly, and the Lord Commander shook his head with an expression that brooked no negotiation.

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Vaemond stepped from the boat to the muddy shore and the dragon opened its eyes, hearing the rattle of Corlys's heavy plate armor.

It stood on its legs and gave a hiss, a small amount of smoke filling the night sky.

Corlys stood back, his hand resting gently on his Longsword while Vaemond slowly approached.

The small dragon let out another hiss but stood its ground.

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Vaemond, making sure to show no fear, strode confidently forward, reaching into his satchel and throwing out a choice piece of bloody beef, straight from the kitchens at the ground in front of the white dragon.

He approached even closer, being so close that he could count the tiny ringmail scales of the dragon.

The moment had come and there was no backing down now, the dragon stopped its eating and stared at the prince suspiciously with blue eyes.

Vaemond reached out a hand and placed it on the dragon's head, expecting to be bittenโ€ฆ.but no bite came.


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