Chapter 60
CREGAN STARK
The coronation ceremony and the Royal wedding had been combined into one singular entity. Though the realm was at war, the marriage would do much to assuage the uncertainty surrounding the Crown and the succession.
And so, within a few weeks, even as the negotiations for the true peace between the Reach, the Stormlands, and the Crown continued to happen, the time of the Royal Wedding approached.
Though the negotiations were in their final phase, given that neither the Reach nor the Stormlands had much to offer, and much of the negotiations were complete, and what was left were the few formalities.
But even a war could not stop the wedding so how could a few pesky little negotiations and so the clothes were prepared, and Cregan sat in front of a massive mirror as servants toiled around him, making him presentable as he wore the ceremonial garbs that had been prepared for the event.
And the doublet was black, and was embroidered with silver of his house, and he adjusted the tight collar as he addressed the servants.
"I think this is enough," and they backed away as he rose up and addressed the hunched man waiting for him in the corner.
"So, have you found her?" he asked, and Qyburn nodded.
"I believe I have. She will arrive in the city in a day, you can confirm it as well by then," and he doubted that he would find the time tomorrow, but still, he wanted to be done with Jamie Lannister as quickly as possible.
"Good, and are the testers in place?" because it would be extremely stupid if he allowed himself to be poisoned on his own wedding.
"Yes, my lord," answered the man in question.
"I have placed my own men as well, no poison shall reach your tongue that I assure you," and with that, he showed him a small bag.
"And in case something happens, I have prepared antidotes for the most common poisons and carry them with me, you will be perfectly safe," and that was good, and just as he dismissed the disgraced Maester, the door to his room opened as an unlikely visitor entered in.
"Do forgive me, but I wanted to see the groom for myself," and she wore a red dress, embroidered with a roaring lion, as she eyed him with those familiar green eyes.
He saw her eye him from head to toe, just as he did the same to her.
"Forgive me, Your Grace. I am..."
"I know who you are, Lady Genna," and she was Tywin's estranged sister, the one his father had married off to the despicable Lord Frey. Though the woman had persevered, and as soon as Tywin had come into power, he had summoned her back to Casterly Rock, and she had stayed there ever since.
"My niece was right about you, you are quite a well learned man," and he knew of her arrival in the capital. And though she had lived quite a tragic life, it had neither dulled her mind nor had it bent her spine, and the Lioness still stood tall, even as her naysayers continued to whisper around her.
"I was hoping that I could talk to you alone," and the request was not so out of the ordinary, given that both his and Myrcella's mothers were dead, and she was perhaps the only motherly figure in her life still present.
"Leave us," he ordered, and the servants complied with his command and emptied the room as he offered a seat.
"Do sit down," and she shook her head.
"As much as I would love to do so, I am afraid I must hurry back to see to my niece. I just came here to see the boy who swept away her innocent mind," and he shrugged, though he sat down himself.
"So, what do you wish to say?" for otherwise she would not have asked him to remove the servants.
"Well, I had hoped to talk to you about certain private matters. Matters often left in the hands of mothers and elder sisters as such, but given the death of the Queen and the Lady Catelyn, I believe I must..." and he raised his hand.
"I am fairly knowledgeable in the subject you wish to speak of," and he might just get a headache with how many people had tried to inform him about these matters.
"Is that so? Because I was told that you had never..." and he groaned.
"I might just need to ask our Queen to keep our private matters private," and the older woman chuckled at that.
"Well, you cannot blame her for being nervous. But still, I am not here to talk about that. I am here to speak about Myrcella," and that was something new, and he saw her expression turn somber.
"What about her?" and the woman continued to eye him in silence took over the room.
"I do not know about the veracity of your celibacy," and as he was about to cut in, she raised her hand, stopping him from intruding.
"Nor do I care about it as long as you keep Myrcella happy, but you must understand that though she may have flowered, Myrcella is still quite young," and of course, he knew that.
"You yourself are not much older, so I would not blame you if you have not thought as such, but a consummation of your marriage despite acquiesce and desire on both your parts could have unintended and tragic consequences for a woman so young," and it took him a few seconds to understand her intentions.
"The bedding of a King and Queen is a ceremonial affair, though I find the entire thing archaic and abhorrent, but I wish for you to understand that if you go through with it and Myrcella becomes pregnant with a child, it would put her life in extreme dang..."
"I understand," he cut in, finally stopping her, and he was not an idiot.
Despite the subtle suggestions from Tywin or some other lords, Cregan was not blind to the absurdity of their marriage or the dangers it might pose for Myrcella.
"You need not worry about the bedding or Myrcella being pregnant. I am not a monster. I would never put her life at risk," he assured her, and saw her shoulders sag at his words.
"I am not fond of the bedding ceremony as well, and neither is my father, and I intend to wait for at least a year until I consider producing an heir," and it was a risk, but one he was willing to take.
"I must say I did not expect this out of a Northern like you," and that was an insult.
"Are you trying to insult me?" he asked sharply as she shook her head.
"No, but you must understand that people here in the South often think of Northerners as savages, yet I can speak of a few lords, young or old, who would ever think of their wives' health and dignity." She herself had been married off when she was around Myrcella's age, and so it must have been tough for her.
"You need not worry about Myrcella, I can take care of her just fine," he said, standing up, and she nodded.
"Yes, I can see how you wept that innocent girl off of her feet," and he rolled his eyes as he looked in the mirror and adjusted his doublet for one final time, before he reached for his cane.
"Speaking of that, if you ever find your physical needs getting too out of control, Tyrion will be most delighted to help yo..." and he reacted quickly, and the tip of his cane was in front of her as he nearly shouted.
"If anyone dares make a mention of that, I am going to cut their head off," and despite the knowledge that a blade lay hidden in his cane, Genna Lannister laughed as she pushed it aside.
"Hahaha, yes you will do just fine..."
.
.
.
And after that damning spectacle, the ceremony began. The feast had been prepared but his father had kept the wedding somewhat frugal, or as frugal as a Royal Wedding could be.
The Sept of Baelor still remained a ruin, and despite the various requests from the High Septon and the faith, Cregan remained hesitant on spending a fortune rebuilding a damned building again. And there was the added advantage that the sight of the burnt building continued to remind the people about him and how he had saved them from a maniacal sorceress who wished to burn down the city.
So, with the Sept gone, the wedding was to take place in the Royal Sept, which was far smaller than the Sept of Baelor and could barely accommodate more than a thousand people at most.
But in the end, this was the only place available and so he stood on the altar with his father behind him, as a red royal carpet parted the way between two massive crowds of Lords and Ladies that had gathered from the realm, as they all waited for the Queen's arrival.
His father waited behind him, as the unlikely face of Shireen Baratheon stood right in front of him, and he had been surprised when he heard that Myrcella had chosen her as her lady's maid, and despite her rather ugly scar, the girl did look rather beautiful in her dark green dress.
The doors opened finally as the herald blew her trumpet, as everyone became still as the Queen entered the Sept, with her uncle Ser Kevan on her arm. She had chosen a rather traditional white color for her gown, with a little red and green embroidery at the edges.
The green of her embroidery matched her eyes, as she gave him a weak smile as she slowly walked up the aisle, amidst the pin drop silence of the Hall, and he returned her smile as she looked away shyly before she stood in front of him, as the Septon stepped forward and asked them to do the same.
And as they did, he had them bring forward their hands, as he began to tie a ribbon around them seven times as he had them repeat the vows, as they had been forced to practise a dozen times.
And as the vows finished, they both turned towards each other as Lord Kevan removed the Green gown from her shoulders, as his own father helped him cloak her in the Grey of House Stark, as they repeated the final.
"From this day..."
"...till the end of my Days!"
"Now I pronounce you husband and wife, and King and Queen...."
0000
At Pyke, the mood was somber as the servant stood in front of his King and Lord and informed him of the disaster that had come upon their House.
"My lord, we must do something. The attacks on both the North and the West have been foiled, and now your son and heir is a captive of the Starks," he implored as the Lord Reaver simply sat in the Greystone chair, refusing to say anything.
"The men seek answers, and the Iron Throne is preparing a fleet to attack us," and unless they did something the Iron Islands may lose both Lady Asha and Lord Theon and become encircled by the Throne itself.
"Leave me..." the man answered, much to his surprise.
"My lord..." but the King was set in his way.
"I said, leave me!" and so the loyal servant could do nothing but follow the word of his King, as he left the Hall and the throne room became empty once more, as the storm raged on the outside.
Balon sat there on the throne, letting his power consume him, yet he shuddered as a shadowy figure emerged from the shadows, appearing out of thin air.
"You!" he raged, in fear and frustration, as the one-eyed man stepped forward.
"It has been quite some time..." he began, his lips now turned blue, as his ominous voice filled the Halls of Pyke.
"...brother!"
0000
Read ahead and support me on Patre 0n. Help me write this and other such stories by becoming a Patr 0n. It would be pretty awesome of you and would mean a lot to me.
www.Patre 0n.com/Drkest
Have a fantastic day!