The sun hung high in the sky, and a gentle breeze stirred the air.
Gendry the Liberator and Daenerys Targaryen stepped into the warm autumn sunlight. The young King and Queen seemed almost as dazzling as the sun itself.
"King Gendry!"
"Queen Daenerys!"
The young couple displayed an unmistakable royal bearing.
Their union represented the renewed reconciliation between two great royal houses: House Targaryen and House Baratheon, through its maternal connection to House Durrendon.
Along the road, countless people had gathered on both sides, cheering as the couple made their way down from Dragonstone.
Gendry was tall and handsome, with clear blue eyes that resembled a mountain lake. His gaze was warm yet resolute.
The Storm, like a Warrior incarnate, was brave and fearless. He was deeply beloved by the common people, knights, and Lords alike.
The Last True Dragon possessed an otherworldly beauty. Her silver-gold hair and amethyst-colored eyes made her stand out even among the many beautiful ladies of the Seven Kingdoms.
Gendry and Daenerys walked down from Dragonstone surrounded by the Kingsguard, with Ser Barristan and Ser Balon accompanying them alongside their squires.
Ser Boggs led the City Watch of King's Landing, keeping the cheering crowds separated from the royal procession, while the Kingsguard formed an inner circle around the King and Queen.
However, the two Kingsguards were not the most dazzling figures today.
The true stars were the Stag-and-Dragon couple and their Dragons.
"May the Old Gods and the New bless you with everlasting happiness," Duke Stannis and his wife said as they offered their congratulations.
"May your good fortune continue forever," Lord Eddard and his wife blessed them.
"May the Mother bless you with several children as beautiful as yourselves—sons who become Warriors and daughters who become graceful ladies," said the tall and beautiful Lady Olenna Tyrell, whose own hair was silver.
Lords, knights, and foreign envoys continuously offered their blessings to the newlyweds, some even kissing their fingers as they passed.
The procession seemed endless.
Afterward, golden banners fluttered proudly in the wind while the common people shouted the names of the newlyweds.
The guests would return to the Red Keep to rest before attending the wedding banquet an hour later.
Gendry and Daenerys, along with Michel and Mya, all needed to change into fresh clothes. The attire for the wedding banquet was different from the robes they had worn during the coronation.
"Dismount, my bride."
Gendry reached out and lifted Daenerys from her saddle.
Although Daenerys was around five feet seven inches tall, she still looked petite beside Gendry.
Daenerys let out a breathless giggle.
The combined coronation and wedding ceremony had been quite exhausting for Gendry.
But that was the nature of being a King.
A King's joyful occasions were elevated into grand ceremonies. Every movement was watched by thousands of people.
It was both a performance and a demonstration of power.
"Ser Boggs and you will have to work hard today, Lothor," Gendry said to Ser Lothor.
"It is my honor," Lothor replied.
King's Landing was especially bustling today, and the city's defenses had been tightened from the inside out.
On the surface, everything appeared relaxed and festive, but the security arrangements were extremely strict.
Lord Commander of the Kingsguard Ser Barristan was responsible for leading Balon and the squires.
Lothor commanded the other Kingsguard.
Ser Boggs was responsible for the City Watch of King's Landing.
Count Jak Crakehall and Count Roose Bolton were responsible for securing the outer perimeter and the Kingsroad.
Even against magical attacks, Gendry had made preparations. The Red Priestess, the Red Priest, and Qyburn had all been assigned to provide magical defenses.
Gendry wasn't being excessively cautious.
Fame always brought trouble, and he had learned to remain vigilant, especially on a day as important as his wedding.
The number of royalty and nobles who had died because of Gendry was already in the double digits, and his enemies could be found across the world.
Perhaps if he killed them all, he wouldn't have to worry anymore.
The Storm's list of achievements included one King—Joffrey—two Dothraki Khals, Jhezkahn and Drogo, along with their khalasars and Children, although Drogo himself had no Children.
There was also the Magister of Volantis, Marajo; the Archon of Tyrosh; the First Magister of Lys, Leyton; more than a dozen Magisters of the Two Cities and mercenary commanders; and countless Great Masters and Good Masters of Slaver's Bay.
Gendry and Daenerys returned to Maegor's Holdfast, where they both changed into new clothes.
The royal chambers were also located within Maegor's Holdfast, a massive square fortress deep inside the Red Keep.
Its walls were twelve feet thick, and it was surrounded by a dry moat filled with spikes.
Fires burned fiercely in the fireplaces positioned symmetrically on either side of the King's bedroom, filling the room with a warm reddish glow.
The three Dragons had followed them into Maegor's Holdfast as well.
Confined spaces would normally make the young Dragons restless, but the warmth of the room made them more tolerant.
Later, they would be taken into the courtyard, where they could feast on several whole goats.
"True Dragons are not afraid of fire."
Daenerys had an unusually high tolerance for flames, while Gendry had even studied the techniques of the Pyromancers.
Gendry first set down Rage.
The golden greatsword was simply too conspicuous.
Rage, like Ice, was wider than a man's palm and taller than Jon Snow.
If Gendry wanted to carry a sword with him, Orphan-Maker was much more convenient.
After all, he couldn't simply sling Heartsbane across his back like Randyll Tarly, and Gendry already carried plenty of other equipment.
"This is the sword of royal authority."
Gendry looked at the golden greatsword.
Rage carried a greater symbolic meaning when it came to kingship. It was more of a ceremonial weapon.
Swords were symbols of power.
Blackfyre, Ice, Heartsbane, Truth, and Vigilance were all examples of weapons that represented authority.
In comparison, the narrower bastard sword, Orphan-Maker, was more like a sword of royal justice.
A sword of royal slaughter.
Gendry's sword belt carried Orphan-Maker along with several Valyrian steel daggers.
"House Targaryen once had two swords as well."
Daenerys looked at Rage and Orphan-Maker, particularly at their unique Valyrian steel ripple patterns.
"Blackfyre and Dark Sister. Unfortunately, both have been lost."
"They will be found," Gendry said with a smile.
He believed Blackfyre was somewhere across the Narrow Sea, while Dark Sister was probably somewhere in the cold North.
Gendry changed into black-and-gold striped breeches and a black top embroidered with gold.
He wore black silk sleeves and onyx buttons.
Four vivid symbols adorned his clothing: a stag wielding a warhammer and wearing a crown, the Three Dragons, a running Wolf Pack, and a slave breaking his chains.
These represented the four pillars of his power.
Daenerys changed into a purple dress with a tight bodice that revealed her shoulders and the upper part of her chest.
Her soft silver-gold hair cascaded over her pale shoulders and fell all the way to her waist.
A delicate golden crown rested on her forehead.
Her smile was shy and sweet.
The squires serving within the Red Keep had also been thoroughly vetted multiple times.
This wasn't only to guard against Lannister agents from the Westerlands, but also against the informants that Varys and Pycelle had confessed to using.
The court was now filled with new blood from the Crownlands, Riverlands, Stormlands, and the Vale.
These people were all staunch royalists.
As night approached, the sweet aroma of food slowly spread throughout the Red Keep.
Gendry and Daenerys first took the Dragons to the courtyard to feed them.
Several live goats had already been prepared.
Lothor was waiting there with the kennel and stable squires.
Among the squires was a familiar face—a burly, heavily muscled man.
The Hound's right side of his face was rough and haggard, with sharp cheekbones and thick brows above his gray eyes.
The left side was a mangled mess, a lasting masterpiece of the Mountain's brutality.
The Hound now specialized in protecting the valuable hawks, dogs, and horses of the royal court.
Naturally, he was also responsible for protecting the Dragons.
His new position had become known as the Dragon Guard.
"How does the new job feel?" Gendry asked.
"Thanks to the gracious King and Queen, it's easier than ever."
The Hound bowed before the King and Queen.
"I'll repay your kindness with loyalty. Speaking of which, raising dogs should be my specialty. My grandfather was a dog trainer for the lions back in the day."
Sandor Clegane was wearing a black waistcoat.
After speaking, he shrugged.
Daenerys looked at the Hound's face.
It was certainly strange, but the dominant emotion she felt wasn't fear.
It was pity.
Daenerys was a resilient True Dragon.
If a Kingsguard were reduced to raising dogs and horses and tending to kennels, the knight would probably draw his sword and demand a duel—or even commit suicide—because he would see it as a humiliation.
But the Hound had never been a knight.
He hated hypocritical knights and despised their false codes of conduct.
After the Mountain's death, the Hound had even lost his purpose in life.
He had become bored.
Compared with killing, spending time around animals brought him a certain sense of peace.
"Release the goats from the cage."
"As you command."
A group of bewildered goats stumbled into the courtyard.
The Dragons immediately began shrieking.
Their roars caused the goats to tremble with fear, their legs nearly giving out beneath them.
Then the slaughter began.
The flock was so frightened that most of the goats could barely run.
Balerion roared and swooped down first, descending in a spiral of black and red flames.
"The Mountain... I'm not afraid of you anymore."
The Hound stared at the blazing black-and-red flames while suppressing the fear buried deep within his heart.
From now on, the Hound would live for himself.
His grandfather had been a dog trainer.
Perhaps this was the path that suited him best.
A large goat was engulfed in flames.
The Black Dragon landed on its back, instantly breaking its spine and silencing its bleating.
The Green Dragon and White Dragon also began hunting.
The Dragons feasted nearby, filling the air with smoke and the smell of burnt wool.
Their sword-sharp black teeth tore through charred flesh as they devoured one goat after another.
Only after the Dragons had eaten their fill did they curl up in their respective resting places in the courtyard, where braziers had been placed to keep them warm.
"If you wish, I've also prepared a seat for you," Gendry said to the Hound.
The Hound shook his head.
"I don't want to protect anyone anymore. And I certainly don't want to become some hypocritical knight, flattering those supposedly noble Lords."
He glanced toward the Dragons and animals.
"Let me guard these puppies, falcons, fine horses, and Dragons. They're at least more lovable than humans."
"One is a knight only if one possesses a knight's heart," Gendry replied.
The Hound was one of the most dangerous Warriors of his generation.
Yet he had chosen to surround himself with animals and isolate himself from the world.
The bustle belonged to others.
The solitude was his.
"Let's go."
Gendry and Daenerys left the courtyard with Lothor and the others.
The Hound remained behind.
He set up a chair and, together with the Dragon Guard, continued watching over the Dragons.
Night gradually descended.
The sweet aroma of roasted bread and meat already permeated the Red Keep.
The Throne Room wasn't large enough to accommodate everyone, so the outer courtyard of the Red Keep had also been filled with long tables.
Twilight was still an hour away, but the Throne Room was already brightly illuminated.
Every torch on the wall sconces was burning, and guests were eagerly pouring into the hall.
"Everyone knows this is a night of laughter and splendor."
Roose Bolton, whose eyes were cold as dirty ice, joined the procession and quietly observed his surroundings.
"Tonight represents the third union between the Stag and the True Dragon. It demonstrates the Storm's unparalleled legitimacy and reminds all the Lords of the Seven Kingdoms that they must submit to King Gendry's rule."
Having witnessed the fates of King Joffrey and Magister Marajo, along with countless slave masters, and now seeing the Dragons with their own eyes, no one dared challenge the Storm.
Even though sparks of resistance still remained in the Westerlands and across the Narrow Sea, the Lords knew those embers were slowly dying.
Roose Bolton moved forward.
The Throne Room had transformed into a river of silk, satin, and velvet.
The distinguished guests had dressed in their finest clothes, eager to make a good impression.
"Riverlands—Ser Willem Mooton of Maidenpool and his sons."
The corpulent Lord Mooton, carrying his considerable belly before him, entered the court with his sons.
"North—Ser Roose Bolton of the Dreadfort, Small Council advisor and cleaner of the Kingsroad."
Roose straightened his clothes.
He noticed Ser Boggs of Claw Isle still standing in the courtyard.
The Commander of the City Watch of King's Landing was an experienced and battle-hardened man.
"The Reach—Ser Randyll Tarly of Horn Hill and his young son, Dickon. Small Council advisor and Commander of the Dragonstone Veterans' Hospital."
Lord Randyll had brought his heir, Dickon.
Randyll intended to place his son among the royal squires.
"Stormlands—Ser Donnel Swann of Stonehelm."
Ser Donnel entered the hall.
"Deputy Envoy of the Sealord of Braavos, Miss Balerja Oseris, the Black Pearl."
The Black Pearl gave the attendant a charming smile.
Her beauty had captivated Braavos, making her a truly unique woman.
"Envoy of the Prince of Pentos and the Council of Magisters—Magister Olyvar."
The guests who had already arrived took their places behind the long tables.
As new Lords and ladies entered, the herald loudly announced their names and titles before wine stewards dressed in golden royal attire escorted them through the wide central aisle.
The viewing stands were filled with musicians.
Drummers, flutists, fiddlers, horn players, harpists, and bagpipers all performed, filling the hall with music.
Everyone was dressed in their finest attire, ensuring a dazzling display.
Yet everyone understood that the true spotlight belonged to the King and Queen.
Sansa Stark and Margaery Tyrell were among the most beautiful ladies in the hall.
The exotic Arianne Martell of Dorne also attracted considerable attention, especially because all three women were daughters of great Lords.
However, they received relatively few advances because of the enormous difference in status between them and most of the men present.
Nevertheless, some men still set their sights on Arianne of Dorne.
Edmure and Arianne were indeed chatting and laughing together.
Red-haired and blue-eyed, Sansa Stark had changed into a silver satin gown.
An exquisite silver hairnet decorated with white pearls adorned her head, making her look exceptionally charming.
Silver-gray and white were the colors of House Stark.
Margaery had changed into a pale green brocade dress.
Her soft brown hair cascaded over her pale shoulders and reached her waist.
Her smile was gentle and graceful.
"What a beautiful and graceful girl."
The Queen of Thorns, dressed in a golden silk gown, approached Sansa and praised her.
"Thank you for your kindness, my lady."
Sansa smiled politely while secretly thinking:
What is this old lady up to?
Just then, Gendry and Daenerys rode into the Great Hall on matching golden steeds.
Princess Mya and the Michel couple followed behind them on red steeds.
A squire ran ahead, scattering countless rose petals along their path.
Sansa's gaze was immediately drawn toward the Storm.
"Never mind."
The Queen of Thorns thought to herself.
The young girl was still at an age where appearances mattered most.
Perhaps her plan to promote Willas would not succeed after all.
Olenna looked back and felt a pang of disappointment.
Margaery, too, was staring at the young man who looked like a radiant sword.
Everyone turned their attention toward King Gendry and Queen Daenerys.
The young couple represented the pinnacle of beauty, power, and strength in the known world.
Under everyone's gaze, everyone else seemed to fade into the background.
"Hail Gendry I, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, King of Myr, Tyrosh, the Disputed Lands, and the Stepstones, Commander of the Wolf Pack Legion, the Storm, of the Targaryen, Baratheon, and Liberator families, and his wife, Queen Daenerys!"
The Master of Ceremonies loudly proclaimed their titles.
The Kingsguard escorted the King and Queen to the elevated platform.
They took their seats of honor beneath the shadow of the Iron Throne.
In front of them hung a row of long silk banners.
The gold of House Liberator and the black of House Targaryen occupied the center, surrounded by the banners of the other great houses.
The most honored positions belonged to the relatives of the Stag, followed by the great Lords and the founding confidants of the Triarchy and the Wolf Pack Company.
Those who could not sit on the high platform were seated below.
"You truly are a maiden descended from heaven."
Stannis's tall wife embraced Daenerys, kissed the Queen's cheek, and then kissed Mya.
Next, Duke Stannis, Edric, and other members of the Baratheon family stepped forward to pay their respects.
Gendry, in turn, accepted the greetings of his new relatives, including Count Leyton.
Daenerys's two female guards, Brienne and Dacey, also served as representatives of her family.
Once the King and Queen were seated, the High Septon led everyone in prayer.
After the prayer ended, it was time for toasts and feasting.
Seventy-seven courses would have been truly extravagant.
But in a year marked by great disaster, Gendry had ordered the number reduced to thirty-three.
"Fill your cups!"
Gendry stood and announced.
Anguy prepared a large golden cup by mixing a pitcher of Arbor's dark red wine, a pitcher of Northern cider, a pitcher of Riverlands brown ale, a pitcher of Dornish summer red wine, a pitcher of Myrish green wine, a pitcher of Tyroshi pear brandy, and rum favored by the sailors of the Stepstones.
The mixture represented the Seven Kingdoms and the Triarchy ruled under the Storm.
"To my wife, Her Majesty Queen Daenerys!"
Gendry casually raised the golden cup.
The Black Pearl watched him intently, a strange gleam flashing in her eyes.
This King truly is as legendary as the rumors claim.
He possesses an almost divine strength.
"Long live Daenerys!"
The entire hall erupted in celebration.
"Long live Daenerys!"
"Long live Daenerys!"
"To Her Majesty the Queen!"
A thousand cups clinked together.
The wedding banquet had officially begun.
________________________________________
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