Queen of the Narrow Seas

Well, Rhaenyra thought hysterically as Prunella and Laenor sobbing hysterically as they cut each other lips and exchanging their vows in front of the Valyrian priest Syrax had kidnapped 30 minutes ago, everyone half-submerged in the shoreline, that’s one way to solve one of their problems.

The day before

The storm that was plaguing Stepstones were finally at its end and with it came Princess Rhaenys Targaryen-Velaryon on Meleys, hugging her twins tightly the moment she threw herself off her dragon and into their arms. 

“I didn’t know Corlys was planning this when I left to visit family.” The Lady of Driftmark said in High Valyrian. “Or I would have put a stop to this madness. He will not use my children as cyvasse pieces in this Game of Thrones.”

“Perhaps we can think of a solution together, Aunt Rhaenys.” Rhaenyra smiled at her aunt as she ushered them into Dragon Keep, ignoring Ser Gwayne’s baleful look.

That night

Citing a private dinner with family, Rhaenyra was spared from Gwayne Hightower’s covetous look and spent time instead talking to her aunt. 

Swirling the wine in her cup, Rhaenys ignored the delicious dessert spread in front of her and the delightful conversation around the dinner table, focusing on her niece instead. “I wished I knew what Corlys was planning,” She said regretfully, “but he blindsided me in this. We thought he had learnt his lesson after Laena but with the recent aggression from the Crown, Corlys is looking to gain control and power for House Velaryon and this marriage will give him both over Westeros and Stepstones.”

“My granddaughter is not a pawn for men to play with.” Vaegon bit out, glaring at his niece. “You should have controlled your husband better, Lady Velaryon.”

“Corlys has a mind of his own.” She shot back. “And after thinking about this while flying here, I can’t see but see the advantages this marriage would bring to all of us against the Hightowers.”

Rhaenyra sighed as Rhaenys and Vaegon began to bicker loudly. 

Well. She guess this means Princess Rhaenys wouldn’t be much of a help for their ongoing marital issue after all.

That morning

The moment Rhaenyra realized something had happened was when Morna came in with the daily letters from Westeros and passed one of them to Prunella, whose turn to be Rhaenyra’s companion of the day. Absently putting away Rhaenyra’s hair ribbons, the young lady opens her letter, reading it silently. 

Rhaenyra and Morna, discussing the letter from Lord Lyonel Strong about his ongoing investigation into the illegal fighting ring in Flea’s Bottom, jump in surprise when a loud breaking sound can be heard from the vicinity of Rhaenyra’s vanity desk. Both of them turned to see Prunella, pale, standing over a broken vase, staring blankly at the wall in horror. 

“Prue? Is there something wrong? Is it your family?” Morna asked gently as she and the Princess cautiously approached the young lady. 

Haphazardly pushed the letter toward them, Prunella burst into loud tears.

Harwin wasn’t sure what or how it happened. 

One moment he was walking in one of Felstrong’s beaches with Layla and Alys, both of them listening to Alys sharing about her classes and the next thing they knew, a dragon swooped down and carried him and Layla off (gently) in its sharp claws, leaving their half sister gaping up at them. 

The dragon (it was Syrax) gently dropped them in the back garden of Olyvar’s house in Scarwood, nudging them toward the house before curled up beside Terrax, Dusk and oddly Ser Laenor’s dragon, a group of children, including Kriss and the Stark siblings playing around them. 

Both of them went in and to their surprise, found Rhaenyra, her ladies in waiting, the Velaryon twins, the two Joffreys and Olyvar sitting and lounging around in the latter’s living room. The Strong siblings immediately crowd over their sister on one of the chairs, looking in confusion at Prunella’s red eyes and woebegone expression.

“Did something happen, Prue?” Layla asked softly. 

Rhaenyra wordlessly pushed a crumpled letter toward her and the siblings crowded in to read it.

“Lord Jasper Wylde?!!” Harwin was horrified to read the patronizing letter Prunella had received from her father. “The Ironrod?!!”

“But Jasper Wylde killed three wives already!” Layla said. “He can’t do it!” 

“He is my father, Nyra, of course, he can!” Prunella sobbed loudly. “He wanted this marriage, he is a lord of an important house in Stormlands and this alliance would set him higher than Uncle Bartimos.”

“That’s why I had Syrax kidnapped all of you here, to help find a way for Prue to escape this wedding.” Rhaenyra said grimly, not letting Prue go from her side even as her dress was soaked in tears. 

“I thought the agreement between you and Lord Bartimos was that you would arrange the match for Prue.” Vaelaena pointed out. “So why is Ser Celtigar doing this? And Prue is just a niece to Lord Celtigar, surely Wylde would want a higher match for himself. Not that I would curse any lady with that man.” She shuddered. Even as isolated Stepstones were from the rest of Westeros, they still heard lurid gossips from the Kingdoms from time to time courtesy of their family members (and from Mysaria’s growing army of spies).

“Before we came here, I asked Lady Mysaria for information.” Rhaenyra said, “turns out the Crown wasn’t just putting economical pressure on Velaryons but the Celtigars as well. Otto Hightower was the one who facilitated this match.”

“He’s targeting your ladies in waiting.” Joffrey Arryn was horrified to hear this. “At least the ones he can reach.”

“Yes.” The Strong sisters, Vaelaena, Rowena Waynwood and even Elinda looked sick, knowing they could be targeted as well. “But I won’t let it happen to either of you.” Rhaenyra vowed. “The moment all of you entered my service, you are under my protection and if you don’t want to marry Jasper Wylde, then I will do my damn best for you to not marry him.”

“Nyra—” the girl tried to protest. “My father will come here and drag me to the Sept by my hair if I refuse!”

“Not if you are already married,” Harwin suddenly said, and everyone turned to him with a frown.

“Ser Harwin, I have no suitors at the moment.” Prue said sadly. “Nor was I ever interested in looking for one. All I wanted was to serve alongside Princess Rhaenyra and never to marry at all.”

“You don’t want to get married?” Joffrey Lonmouth said, looking at her with a weird look on his face.

“The idea of having intercourse sickens me.” Prunella confessed, looking like she wanted to be throw up. “Everyone knows hence why Rhaenyra never offered a match for me.” The Velaryon twins and Joffrey looked around in confusion as almost everyone looked away shiftily. 

“You knew, Rhaenyra?” Laena asked curiously, regretting her mother had rejected her cousin’s offer for her to be her lady in waiting, she wouldn’t be forced into the terrible wedding but she would never regret her beautiful daughter, Rhaena.

“Stepstones respect love of all forms. A man may love a woman or a man may love a man or a woman may love a woman freely here for we do not condemn but respect love.” Rhaenyra smiled, nodding at Laenor’s and Joffrey's linked hands. “When Prue told me her lack of desire to be married, I offered to convert her dowry into a pension and some land for her to live in so she doesn’t need to depend on any man over her affairs.”

The twins and Joffrey Lonmouth looked at Rhaenyra in awe. 

“Right, if we outing each other, Morna and I are currently courting.” Vaelaena suddenly spoke, reaching to hold Morna’s hands. Harwin looked gobsmacked while Layla stifled her grin, Morna blushing furiously. 

(They’re courting? Harwin whispered to Layla. 

“Yes, Vaelaena is hoping to get your blessing to marry Morna so she can bypass father. Now shush!”)

“I can fake marry you if you need it, Prue.” Joffy suddenly offered. “Aunt Jeyne would understand and I would never force myself on you.” The Vale Knight smiled at her, already fond of his friend. 

Prue looked longingly before shaking her head. “I don’t think father would accept you, Joffy, especially since Lady Jeyne never confirms your status as her heir.”  

“How about Laenor?” Joffrey suddenly and the twins looked at him with wide eyes. “Joffrey, what do you mean by that?” 

“Don’t you get it? It’s the solution to all our problems! Prunella can marry you since Velaryons are of higher status than Wylde so her father can’t reject that and we can get your father off your back at the same time!” 

“We still need heirs.” The Velaryon scion pointed out despondently. “And you of all people know quite well I cannot even bed a woman successfully. You should know since you were there in all our attempts to do so.”

“Wait, then how is your father expected for us to conceive an heir if we get married?” Rhaenyra asked in bewilderment. Laenor only shrugged much to the Princess’s outrage. 

“There’s that insemination treatment so both of you don’t even have to bed each other to have heirs. That might work actually.” Olyvar tapped his chin, thinking. 

“You want to marry me?” Prue asked tearfully. “I won’t be a good wife to you, I had pledged my life to serve in Nyra’s household as her secretary but I can be a good mother to our heirs.”

“I don’t mind living in Stepstone half of the year if you are willing to live in Driftmark for the rest of the year. And if you could help with Driftmark’s administration, that would be better.” Laenor nods. “You’re not gonna ban Joffrey from my bed would you?”

“I would prefer we stay in different bedrooms if not different suites but no. If Ser Joffrey Lonmouth makes you happy, I don’t mind it.” She said shyly. 

“But we still need to marry you off before your father arrives or Lord Corlys protests the match.” Layla suddenly groaned, slumped over her siblings. “How long do we have till Ser Celtigar comes to Moonstone to drag you away?”

“He wrote he will be here at the end of the week.” Prue started to cry again.

“BUT THAT’S TOMORROW!” Everyone said in unison.

“Do we have time to -” “We still need to-” “Which wedding ceremony should we-” “Do we even have a wedding clo-”

Olyvar had enough of the cacophony of noises and decided to whistle very loudly, temporarily deafening the people sitting beside him. “Stop! We can’t do anything if we panic like this! First we need to-”

“We need to hold an elopement ceremony.” Rhaenyra suddenly interrupted. “And it has to be today so we have more time for the couple to ‘consummate’ the marriage.” 

“Can we pull that off Nyra?” Vaelaena tried to figure out what to use as makeshift wedding cloaks if they were to pull this off.

“We can, if we work together.” She looked determined as Olyvar passed her some blank papers.

“Maybe we should stop and tell our elders about this.” Rowena timidly interjected but everyone willfully ignored her. The poor Vale maiden has a sinking feeling that neither Master Vaegon nor Lady Rhaella will be happy about this.

Three hours later, the group found themselves by the sea, including the children who were interested in attending a wedding; a windblown Valyrian priest was gently deposited into the water courtesy of Syrax. They had decided to combine both religious wedding ceremonies into one to honor Ser Laenor’s Sea God he worshiped and the Fourteen Flame Prunella followed and figured the beach by Olyvar's house was a good wedding place. 

The groom and bride were wearing hastily assembled wedding cloaks (Prunella’s white and red crab cloak was hemmed with laces Rhaenyra cheerfully donated from her petticoat, much to Harwin’s red-faced horror as he was front and center when the princess slipped off her petticoat and passed it to his sisters while Laenor was Vaelaena’s pearl white seahorse cloak which hung awkwardly over her cousin) faced each other, ignoring the cold sea water seeping through their clothes. 

The bride, wearing the jewelry lent by her friends, carried a bouquet of sunflowers they cut from Olyvar’s garden, smiled wobbly at her future husband. Laenor meanwhile, wearing clothes borrowed from the dragon keeper, looked as if he wanted to cry. 

“You’re not having second thoughts are you?” Prue asked in panic, her eyes simmering with unshed tears.

“It’s ju-just that I always thought I would ma-marry Joffrey like this one day.” Laenor suddenly wailed. 

“Well I thought I would be a merry spinster historian with lots of cats but here we are!!” Prue wailed back hysterically as she took the knife from the speechless Valyrian priest and cut her lips and fingers before passing it to Laenor. “I promise I’ll be the best platonic wife and friend to you and Joffrey.”

Laenor gently cut his lip and fingers with the knife, snot and tear marks still covering his face. “I’ll promise to be the best platonic husband and friend to you too.” Both of them turned to the Valyrian priest in unison who quickly continued the ceremony before something else happened, asking for the rings. Edmondo, who was dragged from his forge, helped provide the rings he hastily made for them. 

They had just exchanged the briefest of kisses (barely touching) when loud roars could be heard from the horizon. Everyone froze in fear. 

“Wait,” Morna asked in a shushed voice, “who told them?”

“I did.” everyone turned so fast, some can be heard complaining of whiplash. Rowena meanwhile didn’t look unrepentant at all. “What?! I don’t want to be scolded by Lord Vaegon!” She said defensively. 

“I knew it was weird you were borrowing that bird!” Olyvar reeled back in horror. “We’re all doomed.” 

“We still have a chance!” Rhaenyra yelled as they all fled out of the ocean, Prue and Laenor hurriedly tugging at their borrowed clothes , “Go consummate the wedding while we stall them!” 

The ladies shrieked and both Joffy and Edmondo hurriedly covered the children’s eyes as Laenor accidentally flashed everyone when he took his pants off as the newlyweds (and Joffrey Lonmouth) ran toward the pavilion set up for the reception.

The moment Caraxes landed and Daemon jumped from the saddle, Rhaenyra tackled her uncle, Harwin hurriedly stole Dark Sister before running off, chased by a furious Daemon. Olyvar meanwhile, with a long suffering look, threw himself at Vaegon with fake wails of grief, forcing the elder to try to console his crying nephew. 

Rhaenys meanwhile did try to get to the pavilion but Laena hugged her mother tightly and with the help of her cousin Vaelaena, dragged her mother away as loud noises can be heard from inside the tent. 

Rhaella, gently dismounted from Grey Ghost, stared sardonically at the remaining attendees, who looked guilty. “Well, is no one going to stop me?” With a giggle, Kriss dragged little Sara Snow with him to hold onto her legs. Rhaella laughed but patted the children’s head, giving them candies in her pouch, luring even wary little Cregan to her.

Daemon laughed himself sick as Vaegon loomed over them in fury, everyone involved in the elopement were kneeling on the beach, looking quite cowed. Prue, Laenor and Joffrey came out from the tent and joined them as the elder master scolded them very loudly. 

“What were you thinking?!!” He bellowed. “Clearly nothing seeing all of you are involved in this hijinks!”

“We were trying to help.” Rhaenyra said sulkily. 

“Silly child. Now we have to think of a way to compensate both Corlys and the Celti… Hmm?” Rowena, the only one who wasn't punished since she snitched, gave him a sheaf of parchments, copies meticulously made were given to Rhaenys and Rhaella, Daemon peering over the latter. “Rhaenyra already negotiated a wedding contract for both of them and a wedding dowry for Prunella.”

Rhaenys can feel her eyebrows growing at every sentence she read; a new trading contract between Stepstones, Velaryon and Celtigar, negotiated time spent between Driftmark and Stepstone and to her surprise, two dragon eggs as Lady Prunella Celtigar’s dowry, one for Laena’s Rhaena and the other for the firstborn of Laenor and Prunella. 

It was a very impressive and generous marital contract indeed. 

Vaegon frowned as he returned the contract to Rowena, turning to the children and began his acerbic lecture on irresponsibility once again much to everyone’s horror.

After Rhaenys left for Driftmark with the contract (and imparted a stinging lecture to her children and in-laws) and the Targaryen elders returning to respective homes with promises to horrible punishments await everyone tomorrow, everyone remaining threw a small party by the beach for the newlyweds. 

Rhaenyra grinned over her cup of wine as Layla drunkenly tried to drag Edmondo away from Olyvar so he would dance with her as everyone geared up for a dance around the bonfire.

“Won’t you dance, Princess?” She smiled softly at Harwin, who draped his cloak over her. 

“Not yet. You?” 

Harwin watched as Morna and Vaelaena ignored everyone jumping around them as they swayed gently, gazing lovingly at one another. “No Princess, I am content standing with you.”

“Shall we walk?” Rhaenyra smiled as she stood up, dusting her skirt. “I’m feeling a bit restless right now.”

The two of them walked side-by-side by the shoreline, silently enjoying the view as the sun began to sink into the horizon. 

Rhaenyra couldn’t help but enjoy the quiet between the two of them. Harwin was becoming one of her closest friends, always taking care of her and willing to partake in any mischief she did, guarding her back with his quiet strength and offering his advice with his deep voice. 

Looking down, she realized that their hands kept knocking against each other and she wondered what it was like to reach forward and hold his hand. 

“Princess.” She was startled out of her daydream to see Harwin stepping in front of her, his stance protective. “There is someone here.” She peered from behind his back to see a familiar figure walking toward her, her ship docked up ahead.

With a delighted laugh, Rhaenyra ran out from behind his back and threw herself onto the newcomer.

“Sayiddah, welcome home!” 

“Rhaenyra, I’m back!” 

Both of them gently kissed, hugging each other reverently. 

Behind them, Harwin watched them silently, something soured twisted in his stomach as words of caution died in throat.