The Celtigars
Master Vaegon Targaryen was not happy.
“Despite what your father and Viserys seem to think, the Princess Paramount’s betrothal matter is not under the perusal of the Royal Family, as concurred in the contract signed between King Viserys and Princess Rhaenyra.” Vaegon stared down at that Hightower scum, Grey Ghost looming behind him, his teeth bared. “She has the right to pick her own husband and you are not him.”
The Hightower brat tried to speak but Vaegon raised his hand, Grey growling fiercely. “I’m not done. You have been atrocious during your stay here, mistreating the servants and don’t think we didn’t know those clumsy espionage attempts your entourage tried to do! No, you and your entire group will leave Stepstones immediately.” With an imperious hand gesture, Harwin, Joffrey Arryn and a group of guards marched them out of the castle, ignoring their protests.
He turned around to see Rhaenyra sitting on one of the chairs, Sayiddah holding her hand and patting her back while talking to a very interested Laena. Approaching the three of them, he gave his grand-daughter a pat on the head while talking to Rhaella and Daemon, who arrived during the clean-up.
“I will go to King’s Landing to talk to Viserys; this has gone too far. I’m gonna put a stop on Otto trying to interfere with Stepstones even if I have to get Grey Ghost to eat him to do it.”
Daemon perked up in delight. “Can I come with you?”
“NO!” “Absolutely not!!” “Uncle no!”
“You never let me have fun.” Daemon sulked. “I’m taking the girls with me to visit Aelyx.”
Rhaella rubbed her head, a clear sign a Targaryen-induced headache was bothering her. “Stop harassing Rhea, she’s gonna make good of her threat one day and shove her arrows down your throat. Vaegon, you cannot go to King’s Landing alone, I don’t trust Hightower enough to not engineer an accident or something to you.” Vaegon scowled as Daemon whinged loudly.
“Take Harwin and one of the girls, granduncle.” Rhaenyra looked up to him, colors coming back to her pale cheeks. “They can watch your back while you yell at father.”
What a sweet granddaughter he has.
He patted her head again.
“I want Harwin here, he’s our best option in keeping you safe right now till your scarlet shadows are back. I’ll take Joffrey Arryn and Layla Strong if I must. The girl is resourceful and the boy can make good cannon fodder if I need a distraction.”
Everyone laughed but really Vaegon wasn’t joking about using that boy as a distraction, he has a very scheming mind and he has a feeling half the mischiefs Rhaenyra gets into these days came from him.
Which reminds him…
“I’ll make a pit stop to Driftmark before and after I go to King’s Landing and see if I can talk to Corlys about the wedding. It’s bothersome as it is that I have to lose the only girl competent enough to work on compiling Stepstones history to Driftmark, he cannot keep the girl in Driftmark more than 6 months each year.”
Daemon perked up in delight. “Oh, can we just kill Corlys and be done with it? Cousin Rhaenys would make a merry widow.”
“DAEMON!” “NO!!” “Killing is never a good solution Daemon!”
Daemon sulks again.
Watching as Grey Ghost leave with Master Vaegon, Joffrey Arryn and his sister (the latter carrying letters for Princess Rhaenys, their father and Lord Beesbury) Harwin turn to make his way to escort his princess to her office when he saw a panicked looking messenger running toward them.
“Your Royal Highness, a delegation from House Celtigar are here to meet you!” The messenger huffed loudly as he bowed to them.
Rhaenyra looked torn for a long moment, she wasn’t excited with dealing with Ser Celtigar’s fury over his daughter’s elopement and she was looking forward to spending time with Laena and Sayiddah.
Alas duty called.
Making her apologies, the princess quickly ran to the Great Hall, swiftly followed by Harwin. In their rush, they somehow missed the mutual looks of interest from the two ladies they left behind.
Ser Clement Celtigar glared at the young slip of a girl sitting on the throne in front of them. He was furious that after working so hard brokering the marital alliance with the Stormlands Wlyde and coming to this forsaken land just to find out this silly child had helped his foolish daughter elope, with a lowly knight of all people! She even had the audacity to ignore him while talking to his brother! The nerve of this brat!
“Where is my daughter?” He interrupted rudely over the pleasantries the Princess were having with Lord Bartimos Celtigar. “Why do I have to hear from my own nephew that my daughter had eloped after I painstakingly prepared a betrothal for her? What kind of household are you running Princess, that you can’t even keep your ladies in line?”
“Clement!” Bartimos hissed in anger as Rhaenyra reared back, her face furious at his accusation. But before anyone else can say anything, the herald by the door spoke again. “Lord Aemon Darke-Celtigar, Lady Mylessa Darke-Celtigar and Lord Rhaegar Darke.”
Rhaenyra looked delighted to see her Scarlet Shadows had returned to court, and with them, their child.
“You named him after me?” She cooed, reaching out for the blonde, green-eyed babe.
“Princess Rhaenyra!” Ser Clement thundered. “Do not ignore me! Where is this insolent knight that is foolish enough to elope with my daughter?! We are going to need to act quickly to annul this marriage before it's too late.”
Rhaenyra turned and glared at the imprudent knight, glad they went through with their impulsive plan to help Prunella eloped with Laenor. “I don’t know what you have heard, Ser Celtigar, but rest assured, the marriage was binding in both matters of religious laws and consummation.”
“She did not have my permission to marry a vagabond!”
“Lady Prunella Celtigar is of age and a member of my household. She has my permission and most importantly my blessings to marry.” The princess said fiercely. “And as for her husband, last I talked to him, Ser Laenor Velaryon is no vagabond knight.” She smiled smugly as Lord and Ser Celtigar stared at her in surprise.
“Ser Laenor Velaryon?” Lord Bartimos Celtigar snapped out of his surprise, smiling fiercely. A marital alliance with the Velaryons would be advantageous for his House especially with the waves the Crown were making. And a niece for the next Lady of Driftmark would only mean great things for them.
Ser Celtigar was gobsmacked. Ser Laenor Velaryon?! He had heard rumors of the boy but like his brother, he can see the advantages being tied to the Velaryon, even more so than to Wyldes as Jasper Wylde has many of age heirs and his grandson would not be in position to inherit at al, unlike with the Velaryon where his grandson is line to inherit the richest House in Westeros.
During the distraction, Laenor and Prunella Velaryon entered the Great Hall, the latter smiling fearfully when she saw her father waiting for her. “Father.”
“Daughter!” Prunella couldn’t help but shudder as her father grabbed her roughly in the arm and pulled her in a hug. Laenor, already tentative to Prue’s need, quickly pulled her away from her father, offering himself to distract the greedy knight as the man fussed over him.
Rhaenyra, her mouth twisted unhappily, knew she couldn’t do much for Prue, turned to Lord Celtigar. “I would like to discuss Lady Velaryon’s marital contract with you, my Lord.”
Now that Ser Aemon Celtigar-Darke and Lady Mylessa Celtigar-Darke were back from their joint parental leaves and assumed their duties as Princess Rhaenyra’s sworn shields, Harwin found himself at a crossroad of sorts.
He could stay a bit longer and keep an eye on his sisters (he still have their conversation with Lady Vaelaena Velaryon over her intentions for his sister) or return home to Harrenhal and assume his role as his father’s heir and rule the House under his uncle and steward’s guidance (his father had making inquiries about him needing a bride, a prospect that had make him felt very uncomfortable every time he thinks about it).
Harwin sighed and wondered if he should go and visit Felstrong and pray under the weirwood tree sapling when he stumbled onto something he wished didn’t see.
There, in the grove of plum blossom trees Rhaenyra likes to spend her free time under, were Lady Laena Velaryon and Nakhuda Sayiddah, locked in a passionate embrace, kissing fiercely.
Argh, his poor innocent eyes.
The loud sound of him slapping his hand over his eyes broke through the two women, the sea captain smiling lazily at him as Laena righted her bodice. “Ser Strong. Is the meeting over then? Rhaenyra promised me a walk.”
That smile and the fact she hadn't removed her hands from Lady Velaryon’s hip had Harwin’s vision turned red in fury. Tugging off his leather glove, he threw it at her head.
“I challenge you to a duel.” He gritted out furiously.
“A duel, Ser?” Sayiddah unsheathed her cuirass, smirking. “Interesting. Tis not everyday one gets to dance with a Knight of Westeros.”