The Unwanted Suitor (i)
Harwin knew the moment he heard Gwayne Hightower’s name, there was going to be trouble.
(Personally he didn’t mind the man. He was a tad arrogant but he did try to care for the people when he served in the City Watch with him. If it wasn’t for Lord Hand and his sister the Queen, he could see the two becoming benign acquaintances, bonded over their work and their shared disdain over Ser Criston Cole the prick.)
Now seeing him smiling at the flustered princess as everyone exploded into a cacophony of loud whispers and exclamations, all the knight wanted to do was to unsheathed his sword and cut off his slimy hands.
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN THERE’S A HIGHTOWER SPAWN HERE FOR MY RHAENYRA’S HAND IN MARRIAGE?!!” Vaegon screamed as they all winced.
After the disastrous introduction, Prunella had the insight to whisk the group from King’s Landing to the farthest guest suites in the castle, making sure there are guards guarding them and all and any possible entrance points before Vaegon and Daemon arrived on their respective dragons.
(Rhaella, seeing the murderous expression on Daemon’s face and the way he was holding Dark Sister, immediately faked a health emergency and slumped over her furious nephew, pinning him to the chair. He cursed loudly but held his aunt, afraid of accidentally injuring her.)
Rhaenyra, feeling a bit faint after the meeting, was standing by the open windows, gulping the fresh air frantically, rubbing her hands raw.
Marriage?! She’s just sixteen, she barely had a few kisses and heavy petting over the clothes encounters, she’s not ready for marriage just yet!!
“THE AUDACITY OF THIS DAMNED BRAT!! WHO DOES HE THINK HE IS?!! THE ANDALI BRAT IS NOT WORTH OF OUR VALYRIAN BLOODLINE, NO MATTER WHAT STUPID VISERYS THOUGHT WHEN HE BEDDED THAT ANDALI WENCH!” Vaegon cursed; Layla quickly translating forHarwin and Rowena as they were the only ones not fluent in Valyrian. “POX ON THOSE DAMNED HIGHTOWERS! THOSE CUNTS ARE NOT EVEN WORTH A STRAND OF HAIR OF MY PRECIOUS CHILD!”
“Uncle, please, think of your health, you will get a heart attack!” Olyvar tried to calm him down but to no avail.
“Pox to my health! I’m too angry to even calm down. Who do they think they are, coming here?!!”
“Master Vaegon, I think I can shed some light on that.” Everyone turned to Mysaria, who had accompanied Daemon from the Veiled Isle, “My contacts in Red Keep had recently sent me a letter that Lord Hand had been trying to hatch the dragon eggs they took from Dragonstone but all attempts had failed.”
“From what my spies can gather, Ser Otto hopes that by marrying the Princess to his son, it would bring Stepstones and the dragons that are hatched here back into Westeros’s or more importantly, the Hightower’s control.”
“DAMN VISERYS!” Daemon cursed, trying not to jostle Rhaella as he raged. “He already diluted this family’s blood by marrying that wench, now he’s trying to force Rhaenyra to do the same thing?! He truly has no respect for our House!”
“Daemon, I don’t think the King knows what’s going on. My spies told me he hasn't paid much attention to the Kingdom and most of his public appearances are either with Lord Hand or the Queen.” Mysaria frowned. “Even now, I’m getting reports of children being forced into fighting pits in Flea Bottom but no one is doing anything to stop it even after they presented the case to the Crown.”
“Children?!” Rhaenyra was horrified to hear this. In Stepstones, children are cherished, and to find such atrocity being committed shocked her. “Can we do anything about that?” She turned to Vaegon, who frowned ferociously but before he could answer, Daemon sneered.
“Why? That has nothing to do with Stepstone, why should we be the ones to stop it?”
Everyone looked at him in disgust. “Because they are innocent children!” Morna cried out. “Rhaenyra, I will write to my father and my brother Larys about this, I think we can stop this with their help!”
“Great, now we end up solving another matter Viserys should have solved himself!" Vaegon scoffed. "But now we still have the matter of the Hightower that is currently in our guest suite.” Vaegon said acerbically.
“I can kill him.” Daemon’s smile was bloodthirsty. “We can send his head to Otto as a message we do not bow to greedy cunts.”
“And bring war to Stepstones?! Don’t be stupid Daemon.” Rhaella said severely, stopping her fake act, hitting her nephew in the arm. “Not everything can be solved with murder!”
“Silly aunt, everything can be solved with murder.” Daemon scoffed, then yelped as Rhaella pinched him.
“I can feed him to Grey Ghost and call it an accident but I don’t want to give my dragon a stomach ache.” Vaegon mused out loud.
Rhaenyra took a long moment to enjoy the bloody imagery that sentence invoked before reluctantly nixing the idea. “We can’t. And we can’t send him away just yet because of the brewing storm.” She sighed. “Ser Gwayne Hightower and his retinue can stay till the storm is over and we can send him back with my refusal to the offer to my father.”
Everyone immediately complained loudly.
“Ser Gwayne.” Harwin glared at the man in front of him, especially when he noticed the golden badge that was once his adorning Ser Gwayne’s cloak.
“Ser Harwin.” Gwayne nodded back at him. “Is the Princess inside? I was wondering if she would like to have a walk with me? As part of our courtship.” He grinned, oblivious to Harwin’s murderous countenance.
“I believe the princess told you last night that she does not agree to go for a betrothal with you, Ser Gwayne.” Harwin said blandly, his right hand playing with the new sword on his hip. “In fact she is currently busy with a meeting with Steward Beesbury and Lady Rhaella about the household."
(Rhaenyra, along with Martyn, Rhaella as well as Mysaria, were currently brainstorming a plan to make sure the delegation from King’s Landing were supervised at all time, and away from Stepstone’s biggest treasures; which includes the eight unhatched dragon eggs were currently guarded in Felstrong by a cadre of dragon keepers and rotation of priests and the lone septon who were tickled to be included to protect them.)
“And of course she shouldn’t agree for a betrothal, she doesn’t even know me yet! That’s why I’m here, I would like the both of us to spend time learning about each other.” Gwayne said jovially.
“She’s busy.” Harwin wonders if he could get away hitting the oblivious man in front of him. Maybe Morna and Layla would help him, he mused, not Alys since she’s busy with her classes.
“With what? Surely she can spend some time with her guest whilst in the middle of learning how to rule her household.”
Before Harwin can say anything, the door beside him opens, revealing Princess Rhaenyra, dressed in a simple black and blue dress that she usually wore when she goes visiting the smallfolk on Moonstone. “Oh, Ser Gwayne! Um, why are you here? Without your escorts?”
“I’m here to see you Princess.” Gwayne grabbed her hand to kiss it, not realizing the identical disgusted looks from both Rhaenyra and her sworn shield.
“I’m afraid I’m too busy as I’m supposed to be visiting right now.” Rhaenyra said politely, as she pulled her hand away from his grasp, subtly wiping it against the back of her dress.
“Excellent! Then allow me to escort you to your destination, Your Royal Highness?” Gwayne immediately pulled her hand again, wrapped it against his elbow, pulling her away before she could protest it, Harwin following them furiously.
Think of Stepstones. Think of Stepstones.
Rhaenyra mentally repeats the mantra again and again as she and Gwayne walk aimlessly around one of Moonstone’s docks where people were strapping down the ships and moving out of their houses in preparation for the storm.
“-impressive that your regents work hard ruling your kingdom. Your future husband would need to work hard to step in their shoes.” Gwayne smiled at her. “I believe you, princess, have your hand full with the numerous charity works in the islands and learning how to take care of your household from Lady Rhaella. It must be quite a relief to have such competent regents to help you.”
Harwin didn’t like how strained Rhaenyra’s expressions were becoming. Beside him, Rowena, who was Rhaenyra’s companion for the day, grimaced, mentally writing a letter to her grandmother about her cousin’s unwanted suitor.
Think of Stepstones. Think of Stepstones.
Rhaenyra smiled her sweetest smile that she only reserved to greedy merchants or annoying Tyroshi port officials that pissed her off. “Yes, it took a while for me to learn the art of ruling but all my hard work paid off in the end, especially on how happy my people are. I hope that whoever I marry will be a supportive spouse to my rule.” She turned to the group of people waiting for her at one of the houses, ignoring Gwayne gaping at her in surprise.
Rhaenyra groaned as Prunella rubs fragrant oils into her scalp, feeling the tension in her temple disappear at her gentle touch. After the revelation that she was the one ruling the kingdom (with the support of her advisors of course) Gwayne had been complaining to her on how unnatural it was for a woman of her status ruling and how she should let the men handle politics and not burden her pretty face with it.
(Frankly on her and cousin Jeyne’s behalf, she is quite insulted on how chauvinistic and sexist the man was toward powerful women.)
“Princess Rhaenyra!” Rowena, whom she dismissed to have the evening off after the grueling afternoon, ran into the room.
“What is it now?” She groaned, waving Prue away from the chaise she was half-draped on. “Don’t tell me Uncle Daemon snapped and murdered the delegates?”
“Oh, er, not that but I’ll check just in case?” Rowena shook her head, “No, Vaelaena just sent me. There is someone who wants to meet with you and wants to know if it's alright for her to bring them to you tonight before they make an appearance in public tomorrow.”
Rhaenyra exchanged looks with Prunella before the latter stepped out to pull Joffrey Arryn (who was guarding her that night) into the room. “It must be important if they wanted to meet in secret first. I took it, she took them to my solar, then?” The Princess asked. “Give me some time to change my clothes and I will meet you there.” Rowena quickly ran off, escorted by her cousin whilst Prunella helped her into a simple robe-style dress, her hair hung loosely except for the piece of blue ribbon that matches her dress wrapped on her head, pulling her hair away from her face.
Walking to the solar with Prunella and Morna (whom they dragged with them after accidentally meeting her on their way there) Rhaenyra looked inquiringly at Joffrey. The young man tapped his chin with his middle and ring fingers before flicking them to the left, signaling whomever was waiting her in the solar were friends and meant no harm to her.
The princess nodded before sending Prunella for some refreshment for their guests (and canceled the messenger waiting by the window to signal for her uncles to come to Moonstone immediately. Whatever was waiting for her in her office, it probably isn’t important enough for an emergency council that night.)
She went in to see Vaelaena poking at the fireplace while Rowena adjusting the mirrors for the lanterns, the three hooded figures waiting awkwardly in the middle of the solar. Realizing Rhaenyra had entered the room, they pulled back the hoods to reveal faces she hadn't seen for awhile.
“Cousin Laenor, Cousin Laena! And Ser Joffrey Lonmouth! What brings you here to my islands?” Rhaenyra surged forward to hug her twin cousins, grinning brightly. She hasn't seen them since Laena’s wedding two years ago, excited to see them after so long.
“Rhaenyra. It has been awhile.” Laenor stepped back as Laena hugged her closer. “I do wish this was a pleasant visit.”
She stiffened as she turned to him. “What happened? Are your parents alright? Are you alright? Did something bad happen? Did the Hightowers do something?!”
The twins and Joffrey exchanged looks before Laena turned to her. “Nyra, our parents are alright and nothing bad has happened so far. But how about we sit down before we tell you why exactly we are here?” They quickly moved to her chairs, Prunella, who came back with a tray full of sweets and a bottle of mulled wine, quickly served them.
After taking a long fortifying sip, Laenor turned to his cousin. “Rhaenyra, we arrived in Pearl Cove this afternoon with a delegation from my father and will be here tomorrow in time for your afternoon court to present a proposal from my father. But Daemion and Rosamund both thought that we should tell you first in private what that proposal is so you can prepare yourself, especially when you have guests from King’s Landing right now.”
“Proposal? What proposal? If this is about negotiating new rights in regard to the Narrow Seas or trading concessions, I don’t see why we have to act so secretly like this.” Rhaenyra looked at them in confusion.
“It’s not that, or rather it is like that.” Laena braced herself before blurting out. “Rhaenyra, my father is offering Laenor for your hand in marriage.”
Oh.
OH!
Oh damn. She does need to call for an emergency council tonight after all.