The sun rose above King's Landing and the Red Keep had been buzzing from early. First, it was the servants running to prepare everything and then there were all kinds of nobilities, lords, ladies and soldiers as they all got prepared for the big event.
The Throne Room was filling rather quickly and from early on, a few higher-class commoners could be seen amongst the rich nobles and the powerful lords with their court ladies. Expensive dresses and fabrics, jewellery and styled hair could be seen everywhere; a clear difference from the poorer image existing outside those walls.
The King had been the first to arrive but had yet to sit on the Iron Throne, instead was by the base of it and was discussing something with his mother. Important things had to take place and he had certain things to fake to make it all work.
Various famous faces had already started to move towards their proper places at the front, including Lady Margaery Tyrell, her father Lord Mace Tyrell and her brother Loras, Lord Petyr Baelish and even the Master of Whispers; Varys.
Lady Sansa Stark and her ladies-in-waiting had also arrived but had made their way to their places on the upper seats, having a clear view of the whole room, a place for more private and honoured guests.
The court was alive, chatting amongst everyone almost as they all waited for the day to start and the 'Saviour of the City' to appear. Before him, however, someone else made an entrance first.
Their presence alone hushed the room before the chatter turned into whispers and mutters between the Court Lords and Ladies.
"Is that who I think it is?"
"It is her"
"The Dragon Princess is back"
"It's Lady Lannister herself"
Visenya successfully held back her smirk and kept her face serious as she elegantly walked towards the throne. Right by her side but one step behind was Trystan with his now-clean armour while behind them were 4 Lannister Soldiers as her escort.
She felt the eyes of almost every single person landing on her and in her mind, only one thing seemed to matter. I am back. Hear me Roar
Per Tywin's instructions and of course thanks to Genna's control over her wardrobe, the Dragoness had the perfect dress for the occasion and she wore it with pride.
It was a beautiful deep red dress that had a thin layer of black lace sewed on top of it, creating an abstract net-like pattern while the colours represented her House passive but also the Lannister gold that many Lions choose to wear.
The dress had a deep V cut to expose her collarbone but not too much of her chest, being revealed for some more old-fashioned women but still appropriate for the Westerosi Fashion. A lighter shade of red formed the outline of the cut while a single gold braided chain hung around her neck and fell perfectly on her chest.
There was a chocker around her neck, matching the shade and the pattern of the dress while golden shoulder plates held her red cape. The cape that was a bright red with the golden Lannister Lion on it, was trailing behind her and effortlessly levitating as she kept walking.
Her white hair had been braided and pulled into an elegant bun while a golden hair decoration was pinned at the right side of her head and fell behind her ear, ending by her shoulder.
Fully dressed in the colours of red, black and gold she was a walking representation of the two houses she proudly would carry their Sigil. As Lady Lannister, she made it clear but the black was always a reminder for many that she was and always will be...A Dragon.
For almost 17 years she had been away from court, from King's Landing but now she was back. She was back where she grew up, where she belonged and once again she had her family sitting on the Iron throne.
Upon reaching the base of the Throne, she noticed how many swords were missing. The Throne used to be taller, with a path of melted swords around the steps as the King would sit far higher compared to everyone else.
She had heard that it had been removed and she hid her annoyance with ease, not happy with such change but nothing could be done to change it. Instead, she headed towards Cersei, Tommen and Joffrey.
"Your Grace" she greeted the boy-king, giving a small head bow just enough to show her respect to his title but not to him.
A smile formed on the boy's lips but it was Tommen that spoke first.
"Grandmother!" the boy exclaimed, freeing himself from his mother and rushing to her.
Tommen was at the proper age of 3 & 10 now and the last time she had seen him was 3 years ago. The boy accompanied his mother along with his siblings whenever Cersei visited Casterly Rock; which was not often.
Yet, each of the kids had a certain soft spot for her or at least used to.
"Hello Tommen" she greeted with a small smile, placing her hand on his head as he hugged her legs.
Joffrey rolled his eyes at the behaviour of his younger brother.
"Grandmother, it is with pleasure that I welcome you back at court with us," he said with some level of honesty.
Visenya nodded her head, trying hard to ignore the fact that she had been called 'Grandmother' twice when she had not even closed 50 yet.
"Thank you, your Grace. It is an honour" she lied with ease.
She glanced at Cersei, who was back to her usual Lioness self. Imposing and trying to look intimidated, her eyes were cold and her expression sour. Whatever those two had shared the night before it was long gone as the younger Lannister Lady was passively glaring at her.
While the Dragoness was away, Cersei was the fairest woman in Court and the most popular. She dressed in the best gown and always had the attention of the crowd. However, she knew that the moment she would be back; those days would not be as frequent as they used to be.
If there was one thing Cersei silently admired her good-mother for was her style. She was always posed; with a perfectly straight back and elegant steps; yet dominant and powerful without trying much.
She was like their father but a woman, slightly less dominating but someone many did not dare to cross. She always wore gowns that showed her status and brought out more of her exotic Valyrian beauty that no other woman possessed in court.
Even the years that passed had barely aged her, looking sometimes younger than she was and sometimes just perfectly right. If one was to look at her and then at her son, it was evident from whom the boy had taken his good-looking genes.
"Where is Father?" Cersei eventually asked, realizing that everyone was there except for him.
"He is getting ready for his entrance. You know him better than anyone how he is on such things" Visenya answered her.
The Lioness rolled her eyes. "Of course, I shouldn't even be surprised"
Sansa was standing and leaning on the railing, watching in silence as Lords and Ladies, mostly, filled the room. This time she was given the private balcony with other noble ladies, an opportunity for her to be further away from Joffrey.
Her eyes fell on each House sigil she could see on clothing, recognising them instantly and smiling to herself; feeling proud that she was still remembering them thanks to all those lessons from her Septa.
At the memories of her old life, her smile dropped because she reminded herself of the cage she was locked into. It was fancy, it was big but in the end, it was still a cage. She tried to listen to the gossip around her, hoping this would take her mind off the hell she was living when a new person entered the Throne Room.
Sansa found herself staring in awe with her lips parted at the powerful and yet elegant woman, who walked with Trystan. Her dress was perfectly made to fit her body, tight enough to make her look attractive but not too tight to be considered extreme while a golden belt around her waist glowed along with the rest of the golden pieces as the sun hit it.
A glance at her exotic features and Sansa recognised the person even from that distance, finding herself staring silently at Visenya Targaryen.
Arya was obsessed with her ever since she was young for her actions but never for her beauty.
It made the Stark girl wonder how she would react upon seeing her, dressed in the finest silks and the colours of Targaryen and Lannister.
She looked like a true queen powerful and yet elegant, something Cersei could never match no matter how hard she tried.
Seeing her entering with Trystan and four Lannister guards, the Direwolf knew what was going on. Having gotten a small but quick understanding of how the court worked, she started to see it clearer.
Visenya made her presence delayed to be known, so everyone could see that she was back. She walked with the Lannister cape to remind everyone of her new status, Lady Wife to the most powerful man in Westeros; Tywin Lannister. The guards behind her were proof of her power, showing her importance and power with an armed escort similar to how the Queen had one.
It was all a game, one that the Dragoness knew how to play since she was a child and win. Every pair of eyes was on her, her message sent without her having to do or say anything; just enter the room and walk.
She made it look so easy that Sansa was jealous but at the same time, inspired. She wished she could walk with such confidence and grace, having no fear of someone harming her, having no one forcing her to obey through blackmail and emotional torture.
Her grey-blue eyes followed her every move from the balcony and Sansa realized how similar Trystan and his mother looked. When it came to their facial features, they had similar looks; far more exotic than the common First Men and Andals.
As if sensing her gaze, the young Lion turned his head and looked over his shoulder. Their eyes met and even from that distance, Sansa could see his bright green eyes and she offered him a small smile.
He barely returned it, being merely a ghost of the usual one but it was there and the Stark girl had seen it.
However, then another pair of eyes fell upon her and the wolf felt herself freezing in place. Glowing amber eyes had focused on her, their shade so unique and shifting with parts of red that Sansa swore she felt as if looking through real flames.
Upon realizing that she was staring back, she quickly lowered herself in embarrassment; not wishing to get on the Dragoness' bad side when they hadn't even fully met yet.
Eventually, Lannister Men started to position themselves to form two lines while between them was the red carpet leading towards the Throne Room. Joffrey took his position on the throne while the rest of his family members moved.
Cersei was given a chair to sit at the right, close to the base of the Iron Throne as Queen Regent to her underage son. Tommen sat on her lap while Visenya stood by her side, not needing a chair and not asking for one. Trystan was a step behind her but covered her right, ensuring that he could move and be an obstacle to anyone trying to harm any of the women or the boy.
At last, the man of the hour was here and everyone got ready. The double huge doors opened and showed the powerful Tywin Lannister on top of his white horse, his armour reflecting the morning light as he stared everyone down from his higher position.
He barely had to use his heels for his stallion to obey, slow and prideful steps were taken in a straight line; passing between the lined-up soldiers and heading for the Iron Throne.
Visenya smirked faintly, remembering the conversation she had with him the night prior.
Visenya was resting her head on Tywin's chest, a simple red silk gown above her body. She looked at him as was lying with his back half-way backed up against the pillow, one hand around her waist and the other behind his head.
"So, you are going for that big entrance" she joked, her finger drawing circles on his chest.
"I have been from the court long enough and that boy king has been pampered for too long. I need to remind everyone, who truly holds power and rules those Kingdoms" he said, green eyes staring across the room to the light fireplace.
His wife smirked and placed her chin on his chest, looking at his profile with a relaxed but tired gaze. "I do not think the court is smart enough to truly see the reasoning behind your choice" she pointed out, earning his beautiful green eyes to fall upon her face. "Come on, love; is obvious to us but they are not us" she reminded him. "You enter riding your great white stallion, dressed in full armour to display your power, which they might see. But the rest..." she shook her head faintly, an amused smile on her lips. "On top of the saddle should keep you at the same eye level as Joffrey, not allowing him to stare you down. It will also force a servant to give you the Hand Pin and you do not have to truly bow to him in any way" There was silence for a moment between them but she could see that glow in his eyes, evidence when he was amused. "How did I do?"
He smirked and looked forward again, relaxing after days of just riding and shouting orders. His fingers around her waist had a good grip as if wishing to ensure she would not move a single inch away from him.
His body was not cold but hers was burning, keeping him warm in a way that even he could not explain. "Keep that intelligent and perspective mind at Court, you will need it"
She arched an eyebrow and looked at him. "What do you have in mind?"
He kept staring forward but he was still able to notice the small facial expression changes on her face and hear the shifting tone in her voice. "Befriend Margaery Tyrell; learn what she plans and all she has in mind. Just because we allowed the Tyrells into our family, does not mean we will give them a chance to stab us in the back" he explained and Visenya understood too well.
It would be like before, only that this time there were new players in the game. She would have to extract information and earn the trust of Margaery and the other ladies of the court, only to bring them to Tywin later on.
Sometimes their roles did feel like those of Kings and Queens. Tywin made all the important decisions led the armies and controlled the Kingdoms. Visenya was the beauty by his side, the snake that played it harmless in court as she socialized with women and learnt all kinds of secrets while earning blind trust from them.
Visenya said nothing else and simply pressed her cheek against his chest again, looking also at the fireplace as its bright orange flames offered the only illumination existing in the room.
Back to it again, she thought but made no more comment as she started to plan for tomorrow.
Tywin stopped his horse at the proper spot, sitting proudly on top of the saddle and being at the same eye level as Joffrey. The boy king was clearly trying to remain strong and act as a King but there was something in Tywin's presence alone that made him feel uneasy.
"I, Joffrey of the House Baratheon, first of my name, the rightful King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm do hereby proclaim my grandfather, Tywin Lannister, the saviour of the city and the Hand of the King." He said a speech his mother had made him memorize since the early hours of the morning.
A page rushed towards Joffrey and bowed as he presented a red pillow. The boy king placed the brooch of the Hand and let the servant take it to Tywin.
The Old Lion barely had to move as the cushion was lifted closer to him. He took the familiar brooch that he wore for so many years in his youth and inspected it for a second. He then looked at his grandson and gave a small head bow out of mere courtesy.
"Thank you, Your Grace." He said and turned his stallion, leaving the throne room behind.
He barely glanced at his lady Wife, who smirked faintly before she watched him go. She would see him again soon, in the feast taking place in the gardens to honour the saviour of the city and the crown's latest allies.
For now, she had to remain where she was as the ceremony continued.
"Lord Petyr Baelish, step forward," Joffrey said, addressing the man who had a big part in all of it.
He had carried the idea of marriage to the Tyrells, he had persuaded them to accept it and even gave the idea to use Renly's armour to frighten the enemy. Now, he expected to be rewarded and he would.
Joffrey continued. "For your good service and ingenuity in uniting the Houses of Lannister and Tyrell, I declare that you shall be granted the castle of Harrenhal with all its attendant lands and incomes to be held by your sons and grandsons from this day until the end of time."
He gave a bow to the boy. '"You honour me beyond words, Your Grace. I shall have to acquire some sons and grandsons" he said, making the crowd laugh as he retreated to his place.
Then, it was time for the third person to be rewarded for their actions.
"Ser Loras Tyrell," Joffrey called out.
The young Tyrell lord stood next to his sister Margaery and his father Lord Mace but he represented their house as the heir of Highgarden. So, he stepped forward and then knelt by the base of the Iron throne.
"Your house has come to our aid. The whole realm is in your debt, none more so than l. If your family would ask anything of me, ask it, and it shall be yours." Joffrey said, once again his words written by someone else and he only had to repeat them.
Loras remained with his one knee bent but lifted his head to look at the boy king.
"Your Grace, my sister Margaery, her husband was taken from us before... She remains innocent. I would ask you to find it in your heart to do us the great honour of joining our houses." He said, his words also staged.
"Is this what you want, Lady Margaery?"
The beautiful rose of Highgarden, young and still beautiful quickly drew the attention of many men and court ladies alike. With the humbleness of a little flower, she took a few steps forward to stand out from the crowd.
"With all my heart, Your Grace. I have come to love you from afar. Tales of your courage and wisdom have never been far from my ears. And those tales have taken root deep inside of me." She said in a sweet innocent voice
Visenya had the perfect face so far but as she heard them all just talking, repeating those words with no acting skill; she felt her mind hurting from the sight. A mere glance at Trystan and Cersei and she could tell they were feeling the same.
Cersei, maybe not so much for she was busy narrowing her eyes at the young rose; already a threat in her eyes due to how close she would be to her son.
"I, too, have heard tales of your beauty and grace, but the tales do not do you justice, my lady. It would be an honour to return your love, but I am promised to another. A king must keep his word."
The Lioness grabbed her chance to shine as her part had come at last. "Your Grace, in the judgment of your Small Council, it would be neither proper nor wise for you to wed the daughter of a man beheaded for treason, a girl whose brother is in open rebellion against the throne as we speak. For the good of the realm, your councillors beg you to set Sansa Stark aside."
The crowd started to murmur between them, clearly debating on the subject until a few paid people started to shout.
"Margaery!"
"We want Margaery!"
While obviously staged, many turned a blind eye and pretended this was all real. Few, perhaps, were those, who believed everything to be true and natural.
Joffrey stood up and gestured to quiet the crowd. "l would like to heed your wishes and the wishes of my people, but I took a holy vow." He said and Visenya tried not to cringe at his terrible acting.
Maester Pycelle, who had been standing next to Petyr and Varys; took a step forward, "Your Grace, the gods do indeed hold betrothal solemn, but your father, blessed be his memory, made this pact before the Starks revealed their falseness. I have consulted with the High Septon and he assures me that their crimes against the realm free you from any promise you have made to them in the sight of the gods."
"The gods are good. I am free to heed my heart. Ser Loras, I will gladly wed your sweet sister. You will be my queen and I will love you from this day until my last day."
And may the gods protect you from his psychopathic tendencies, Trystan thought as the crowd applauded.
His eyes went to the balcony up, seeing Sansa. She was quiet but he was certain she was relieved for now, for she would no longer have to suffer at the hands of this boy-king. He did though; feel sorry for her, for he knew his father was not going to let her get away with it anytime soon.
She was still his prisoner, his pawn and she could be used depending on the outcome of this war; especially with Jaime still a prisoner.
He followed her with his gaze until she left, clearly to find a chance and embrace her freedom from Joffrey without unwanted eyes. Then, however, he felt the gaze of someone else on the side of his face.
Turning his head to face the source, he spotted his mother with a lifted eyebrow; watching him silently. He said nothing and merely looked forward again to avoid any confrontation, not wishing for her to get any wrong ideas.