Conquest 79 AC
A full year had passed since Vaegon left King's Landing for the Citadel in Oldtown. During this time, much had changed in the royal household, and among the changes, none brought greater relief and joy than the fragile young Vilerion finally surpassing the critical two-year milestone. Grand Maester Fenier had long warned that the boy's survival past two years would require careful attention, and thanks to Gaimon's constant and meticulous care, the young prince had not only survived but thrived.
King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne could hardly contain their happiness. To commemorate the second anniversary of Vilerion's birth, the king decreed a grand naming day celebration. This event, unlike a simple private ceremony, would feature both a magnificent banquet in the Red Keep and a hunting competition in the Royal Forest. However, mindful of the logistics, only a select group of nobles were invited—primarily those from the royal territories and the surrounding noble families.
Among these invited families, one stood out: Duke Borros of Storm's End. He was the sole duke attending, a fact that underscored the deep bond between House Baratheon and House Targaryen. While rumors whispered across Westeros that Orys Baratheon, the ancestral founder of the Baratheon line, was an illegitimate son of House Targaryen, blood ties ran far deeper than mere hearsay. The true link between the two great houses was forged through marriage: Prince Aemon's wife, Jolena Baratheon, was herself a child of Queen Mother Alyssa Velaryon, born from her union with Rogar Baratheon, the former Duke of Storm's End.
If one were to trace the current connections carefully, it became clear: the reigning Duke of Storm's End, Beaumond Baratheon, Jolena Baratheon, and the king and queen shared a complex web of half-sibling relations. This blood relationship solidified the unwavering loyalty between the Targaryens and Baratheons, making the latter arguably the most steadfast supporters of the royal family across all of Westeros.
Upon receiving the royal invitation, Duke Beaumond wasted no time. He gathered his family and a modest retinue of neighboring vassals, carefully preparing for the journey to King's Landing. Given the tight schedule, he could only alert two allied families along the way—the Tran family of Bronze Gate City and the Ello family of Hay Hall—asking them to prepare along the King's Road and accompany him to the capital for the prince's naming celebration.
Despite the urgency, the duke's party adhered to the decorum expected of high nobility. Even as they raced against the clock, they paused for a night's rest before the final approach to King's Landing, choosing to enter the city under the bright midsummer sun rather than rushing in at dawn.
The city walls of King's Landing glimmered under the heat of early summer. The gates teemed with life, bustling with merchants, farmers, and laborers going about their business. Yet, despite the crowd, there was an air of order and quiet prosperity, a testament to the disciplined governance of the capital.
This peaceful scene, however, was soon interrupted by the unmistakable clamor of armored cavalry approaching from the main road. The rhythmic clash of steel grew louder, signaling the arrival of a large and well-equipped contingent. Those familiar with such sounds—commoners, merchants, and guards alike—instantly recognized the presence of a noble procession of great importance. From the cadence of the hooves and the measured clank of armor, it was evident: this was no mere local lord. It was a high-ranking noble, fully armed and moving with authority.
Understanding the potential peril of standing in the path of such power, the lower-ranked citizens quickly moved to the sides of the road. Those who remained near the gate did so out of habit or necessity, but none dared linger in the direct path of the armored entourage. The city guards, already aware of the incoming noble procession, efficiently cleared the way, positioning themselves to maintain order as the riders approached.
At the forefront of the advancing column appeared banners fluttering proudly in the summer breeze, each emblazoned with the unmistakable golden stag of House Baratheon. Knights, clad in shining silver armor and draped with flowing black cloaks, rode tall, powerful horses, holding the banners high. Behind them, three elaborately decorated four-wheeled carriages rolled steadily, escorted by dozens of armed riders. The entire procession exuded wealth, power, and unwavering confidence.
Recognizing the insignia, the captain of the city gate guards promptly signaled for the procession to continue without hindrance. The citizens, though accustomed to noble entourages passing through, could not help but admire the grandeur of the Baratheon family.
The procession moved swiftly towards the Red Keep. As it passed through the city gate, a simple but telling gesture marked the passage: a bag of golden dragons, tossed from one of the carriages, landed at the gate's edge. The sergeant in charge, examining the bag and weighing the coins in his hand, nodded with approval. "As expected from House Baratheon," he muttered, a grin spreading across his face. "Truly a house of wealth and power. My effort to ensure their passage was well worth it."
With the alert lifted, the city gate quickly returned to its normal bustling state, but the memory of the magnificent procession lingered in the minds of all who witnessed it. Nobles, merchants, and commoners alike were reminded of the wealth and influence that only a family like the Baratheons could wield.
Inside the Red Keep, preparations for the naming day celebration continued at a brisk pace. Servants polished the grand hall until it gleamed, tapestries depicting the triumphs of House Targaryen were meticulously arranged, and the kitchens buzzed with the activity of dozens of cooks, each eager to ensure a feast worthy of the occasion. Courtiers and minor nobles scurried through the corridors, delivering messages, checking lists, and ensuring that every detail adhered to the high standards expected by the royal family.
Meanwhile, in the Royal Forest, huntsmen and gamekeepers prepared the grounds for the upcoming competition. The lush expanse of the forest was trimmed and cleared where necessary, ensuring that the noble guests could participate without hindrance. Strategically placed archery stands and viewing platforms would allow spectators to witness the skill and valor of the hunters. Every detail, no matter how minor, was considered essential to maintaining the prestige of the royal celebration.
As the day of the celebration drew near, anticipation built not only among the nobles but also within the royal household. For King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne, this day represented more than tradition—it was a reaffirmation of the stability and unity of their reign, a testament to the loyalty of allies like House Baratheon, and, most importantly, a celebration of their son, Vilerion, who had survived the perilous early years of life.
The city, alive with excitement and expectation, seemed to pulse in rhythm with the royal household. Merchants prepared special goods for the influx of noble visitors, inns filled with travelers from across the surrounding lands, and the streets echoed with the distant sounds of music and laughter. Even the sun, shining high above King's Landing, seemed to bless the occasion with its golden warmth, as if signaling that this would be a day to remember in the annals of the realm.
And so, as the Baratheon procession approached the gates, and the city's preparations reached their peak, King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne awaited the arrival of their honored guests. The stage was set for a celebration of loyalty, lineage, and the fragile yet enduring life of a young prince—a day that would strengthen alliances, display grandeur, and weave yet another intricate thread into the tapestry of Westeros.
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