Arthur walked through the corridors of the Red Keep at a casual pace, though this was not shared by This servants who hurried past him in both directions, arms full of linens and platters and flowers, none of them sparing him more than a quick nod before they vanished around the next corner.
He turned down the corridor that led to the chambers Mira and Cassie shared and slowed as he reached their door. He raised one hand and rapped his knuckles against the wood.
*Knock*
*Knock*
*Knock*
"Come in," Mira called from the other side.
Arthur pushed the door open and stepped inside. He took two paces into the room before his feet stopped of their own accord and his mouth fell slightly open.
The chamber had been transformed into something out of a story.
Mira stood near the hearth in a gown of deep forest green that fell from her shoulders and gathered just above the swell of her belly before flowing down to the floor. The fabric caught the firelight whenever she movved and the rich colour brought out the tones of her skin and the gold in her hair, which had been braided in an intricate crown around the top of her head with small white blossoms tucked between the strands.
Cassie stood beside her in a gown of pale lavender that draped beautifully over her own pregnant figure, the colour somehow making her look even more luminous than usual. Her dark hair had been pinned up with silver combs that caught the candlelight whenever she moved, leaving a few loose curls to frame her face in a way that made Arthur's chest tighten. The bodice of her dress had been embroidered with delicate silver thread that traced patterns across her shoulders and down her arms, and a thin silver chain hung at her throat with a small pendant resting just above her collarbone.
And standing slightly apart from them near the window was Rhaella.
The princess wore a gown of deep Targaryen red. Her silver-gold hair had been braided in the elaborate Valyrian style, woven through with thin strands of gold thread that caught every flicker of flame in the room. She looked like every story Arthur had ever heard about the Valyrians and their otherworldly beauty.
Arthur stood in the doorway with his mouth still slightly parted and absolutely no words available to him.
"Are you going to come in, my love," Mira asked while a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, "or will you simply stand there and stare at us all night?"
Arthur blinked and recovered enough of his wits to step fully into the room and close the door behind him. "Forgive me. I think you broke me for a moment." He shook his head slowly while his eyes moved from Mira to Cassie and back again. "The two of you... gods, look at you. I have seen sunrises over the blackwater that did not steal my breath the way the both of you just did."
Mira's cheeks darkened a shade and she ducked her head while Cassie laughed softly and pressed one hand to her chest.
"You both look incredible," Arthur continued while he crossed the floor toward them. "Somehow more beautiful than the day I first laid eyes on either of you."
Cassie's blush deepened until it spread to her ears and she swatted lightly at his arm when he reached her. "You are a terrible flatterer, Arthur of Harrowfield."
"I am an honest one," he answered while he reached for her hand and lifted it to his lips. He kissed her knuckles slowly, his eyes holding hers the entire time. He turned to Mira next and took her hand the same way, pressing his lips to the back of it with the same care.
Only then did he straighten and turn toward Rhaella. "Rhaella. You look every inch the Princess tonight. Words would only diminish what my eyes can see."
Rhaella's lips curved into a small, pleased smile and she dipped her chin in graceful acknowledgement. "You have a silver tongue when you choose to use it, Arthur."
Mira stepped forward then and her eyes moved over him from head to foot and her smile bloomed. "You should see yourself, my love," she said softly as she reached up and adjusted the collar of his tunic. "That blue suits you."
Cassie nodded her agreement while she stepped closer and ran her hand down the front of his tunic. "He cleans up rather well, does he not?" She glanced at Mira with mock seriousness. "We should keep him."
"I had been thinking the same thing," Mira replied with a straight face.
Arthur laughed under his breath and shook his head while warmth crept up the back of his neck. "I am beginning to feel outnumbered."
"You were always outnumbered," Cassie said sweetly.
He took a small step back and looked between the three of them once more. Then, with the grace he had been practicing with both Rhaella and in private, he offered each of his arms in turn.
"My ladies," he said, "would you do me the very great honour of allowing a humble squire to escort you to the feast tonight."
Mira's smile went wider and she slid her arm through his right one without hesitation. "The honour is ours, Ser."
Cassie took his left arm, her belly brushing lightly against his side as she settled in close. "Lead on, my love."
Rhaella moved to walk just ahead of them as she would be expected to enter the hall first. Meanwhile Arthur adjusted his pace to match the steps of his wives as he guided them out into the corridor and toward the great hall.
The sound of the feast reached them long before they saw it. Music drifted up from the great hall the murmur of conversation and the occasional burst of laughter. The smell of roasted meats, fresh bread, honeyed wine and spiced fruits grew stronger with every step until Arthur could taste it in the back of his throat.
They reached the great archway that led into the hall and paused at the threshold.
Rhaella stepped forward first as was proper, the herald near the door straightened and called her name in a loud voice that cut through the chatter. Heads turned and conversations dropped to murmurs as she moved into the hall with all the grace of a princess who had been doing this since before she could walk. Arthur waited the appropriate breath behind her before he guided Mira and Cassie forward into the hall after her.
He could feel eyes on them. A great many eyes. He kept his face carefully neutral while he angled toward one of the lower tables along the side of the hall, the sort of place a squire and his women might reasonably expect to sit at a gathering like this.
Rhaella's voice stopped him before he had taken more than three steps in that direction. "Not tonight, Arthur." She had paused, a small smile playing at the corner of her mouth. "My uncle has asked that you and the girls join us at the high table this evening."
Arthur's steps faltered and he felt Cassie's grip on his arm tighten. He glanced toward the high table and then back at Rhaella. "Your Grace, are you certain that is wise. Some of these lords may take offence at the sight of common-born folk seated above them. I would not wish to embarrass the prince or yourself by causing trouble before the first course is even served."
Rhaella's smile grew slightly at the edges. "If any lord in this hall takes offence at your presence at the high table, Arthur, then he is welcome to bring his complaint directly to me or to my uncle. Though I suspect neither of us will be terribly sympathetic." Her voice softened a touch. "After what you did for the realm and for our family, no one in this hall has any standing to question whether you deserve to be honoured here tonight. Anyone who feels otherwise can choke on his wine for all I care."
Arthur swallowed and dipped his head. "As you say, Princess."
He turned slightly to glance at Mira and Cassie. Mira gave him a small encouraging nod while Cassie squeezed his arm and whispered, "Just walk us up, my love. We will manage for one night."
Arthur drew a breath and guided them toward the steps that led up to the raised dais at the far end of the hall. The walk felt longer than it had any right to be. He could feel every gaze in the room on his back as he moved, but he kept his eyes forward wnd ignored them.
When they reached the foot of the dais Arthur stopped and turned to Mira first. He took both of her hands in his and steadied her as she lifted the hem of her gown with one hand and stepped carefully up onto the first stair. He moved with her, supporting her elbow whenever the angle of her belly made the climb more awkward, and only let go when she was safely on the dais itself.
Then he turned back for Cassie and did the same, taking her hands in his and easing her up one step at a time. She made a small face at him when her back twinged on the second step and he immediately slowed and let her catch her breath before continuing. Only when both of his wives stood safely on the dais did he climb up after them.
Prince Duncan rose from his seat at the centre of the high table the moment Arthur reached the top. The prince had cleaned up considerably since the harbour and now wore a doublet of black trimmed with silver, his dark hair combed back and his face shaved smooth. He looked every inch the prince of the realm tonight, and yet the smile he gave Arthur was the same easy, slightly crooked one he had worn while sitting drunk on the harbour wall a few days earlier.
"Arthur." Duncan stepped around the table and clasped his shoulder warmly. "I am glad you are here. Come, sit. Right here beside me." He gestured to the chair immediately to his right which was the seat of honour at the high table.
Arthur stared at the chair for half a heartbeat before he managed to recover himself and incline his head. "Your Grace. You honour me far beyond what I deserve."
"I honour you exactly what you deserve, which is more than most men in this hall have earned in a lifetime." Duncan's grin widened a fraction. "Sit. That is a princely command, I have not given many of those in my life so you should appreciate this one."
Arthur huffed a laugh and took the offered seat while Duncan returned to his own. Rhaella moved gracefully around the back of the table and lowered herself into the chair beside Mira, immediately leaning over to murmur something to her that made Mira smile and reach out to clasp the princess's hand. Cassie sat on Mira's other side and listened in on whatever they whispered about.
The hall had quieted slightly during their seating but now the noise of the feast resumed. Servants began to flow up to the high table, bearing silver platters and crystal pitchers. The first to arrive set down a roasted suckling pig at the centre of the table, its skin glazed and crackling and an apple wedged between its jaws. Another laid down a great wheel of yellow cheese surrounded by figs and grapes and slices of pear. A third carried a tray of small game birds stuffed with herbs and wild rice, their skins glistening with melted butter.
More followed in quick succession. There was a dish of lamb stewed slowly in red wine and rosemary. There were plates of fresh bread still warm from the oven, served with crocks of soft white butter and pots of honey. There were platters of river fish poached in lemon and dill, and bowls of roasted root vegetables glazed with honey and thyme. Plates of olives and pickled onions appeared at regular intervals along the table, alongside small silver dishes filled with salt and ground pepper and other spices Arthur could not even name.
A servant filled Arthur's goblet with a dark Arbor red while another offered Mira and Cassie a softer wine, mindful of their condition. Yet another set down a small bowl of fresh strawberries dusted with sugar in front of each of them, which earned a delighted little gasp from Cassie that made Arthur's chest feel waem.
Down on the floor of the great hall the bards had begun a livelier tune, the singer launched into a song about a knight who had ridden across the Riverlands to win the heart of a maid with eyes like summer rain.
Arthur leaned back slightly in his chair and let his eyes drift out across the great hall. He suddenly found himself struck by how utterly absurd all of it was.
Less than two years ago he had been in Harrowfield.
Two years ago he had been a thin, sickly boy who coughed blood into his sleeve and flinched whenever his father walked by. Two years ago his brothers had taken turns kicking him in the ribs until he passed out.
Now he was sitting at the high table of the Red Keep.
Now he had a goblet of Arbor red in his hand and a prince of House Targaryen at his elbow calling for more wine and two beautiful pregnant wives.
An involuntary chuckle escaped his chest before he could stop it.
Duncan heard it and turned his head. "And what, pray tell, has struck the great Arthur of Harrowfield as funny in the middle of my feast?"
Arthur shook his head slowly while the smile lingered at the corner of his mouth. "Nothing worth troubling you over, Your Grace. I was just... thinking about how strange life can be. How quickly things can change for a man." He lifted his goblet and took a slow sip of wine. "Two years ago I would not have believed any of this was possible. Not a single part of it."
Duncan studied him for a moment over the rim of his own cup and then his expression softened. "It certainly can be strange, my friend. I have lived long enough to learn that the gods have a particular fondness for surprises. Some cruel, some kind. We simply have to hope the kind ones outweigh the cruel." He tapped the rim of his goblet lightly against Arthur's. "Tonight, I think, belongs firmly in the kind column."
Arthur inclined his head in quiet agreement and took another sip.
Out on the floor below the high table the first couples had begun to rise from their benches and drift toward the open space at the centre of the hall as the bards slid smoothly from their ballad into another tune. A lord in a green doublet offered his hand to a lady in pale blue and led her out onto the floor, and within moments half a dozen other couples had joined them.
Arthur set his goblet down and pushed his chair back. He rose and moved around the back of the high table until he stood behind Mira's chair, and he rested one hand lightly on her shoulder before he leaned down close to her ear. "May I have this dance, my love?"
Mira turned her head and her eyes lit up at the sight of him standing over her. "You may, my love." She placed her napkin down beside her plate and offered him her hand.
Arthur helped her up carefully, letting her take her time as her belly shifted her balance, and then he turned to Cassie and gave her the small lopsided smile she knew better than anyone. "I am coming back for you next. Do not let anyone else steal you while I am gone."
Cassie laughed softly and waved him off. "Go on, then. Do not keep your wife waiting, Arthur."
He guided Mira carefully down the steps of the dais one at a time, then he led her out into the open space and drew her gently into the position the dance required, one of his hands at the small of her back and the other clasped lightly around hers.
He adjusted their movements automatically to account for her belly, keeping more space between them than a normal pairing would and moving with slow steps that she could easily follow. The music filled the space around them and Mira's eyes rose to his.
"Are you enjoying yourself so far?" Arthur asked quietly while he guided her into a slow turn.
"It is amazing," Mira answered with a small shake of her head. "The last feast I went to was rather horrible. This one has been amazing so far, being here with Cassie, Rhaella... and you." She said as she glanced past his shoulder toward the lords and ladies watching from the benches. "Although I do not think I will get used to the way the other lords keep staring at us."
Arthur hummed under his breath and drew her a fraction closer. "I would like to say they are jealous of our place of honour. But I think it is far more likely they are simply staring because you are one of the most beautiful women in this hall tonight."
Mira's cheeks coloured and her eyes softened at the corners. She pressed herself as close to him as her belly would comfortably allow and rested her temple briefly against his chest as they turned slowly together. "You are going to make me cry in front of all these lords, Arthur."
Arthur smiled and held her closely.
"It is strange, is it not?" Mira said after a moment. "Barely two years ago we were living on that farm. You were so sick I was afraid every morning to go and check on you. And now here we are, dancing in the Red Keep where we both live."
"I know," Arthur said softly. "I think about it very often."
Mira tilted her head back to look up at him properly. "You always told me you would take care of me. Back then, when we had nothing. You promised me we would have a better life one day."
"Did you ever doubt me?" Arthur asked.
She smiled and shook her head. "No. Not even when Willem had tricked me and I was locked in his manse. Not even then. I knew in the end we would be together." She paused and her eyes searched his face. "I knew it the way I know the sun will rise."
Arthur's throat tightened and he had to swallow before he could answer. "Sometimes I doubted myself," he admitted. "More often than I would like to admit. There were nights when I looked at you and I did not know how I was going to do any of it. When I had no idea how to keep you safe or fed, let alone bring us somewhere better."
Mira's hand tightened around his. "I will always believe in you, Arthur. Even when you cannot believe in yourself. That has not changed and it will not change."
He looked down at her properly then, and for a moment the rest of the hall simply fell away. The music became a distant sound that felt meaningless. All he could see was her. The soft curve of her cheek in the candlelight, the way the green of her gown brought out the warmth in her eyes, the small blossoms woven into her braided hair. She was, quite simply, the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, and the knowledge that she belonged to him and he to her struck him with the same force it always did.
"I am sorry," he said suddenly.
Her brow furrowed. "What for?"
"That I could not give you a real wedding. That we had to lie about it." His voice dropped lower still. "You deserved a proper ceremony, Mira. You deserved a septon and a cloak and your friends standing in the front row and flowers in your hair. Not a lie because nobody could know the truth about us."
Mira's smile bloomed slowly and she shook her head. "It does not matter to me, Arthur. It has never mattered to me. A wedding is words and cloth and ceremony. What matters is that we are together. That I am your wife in every way that counts." She squeezed his hand. "That is what matters. Nothing else."
Arthur stopped caring who might be watching.
He leaned down and kissed her deeply. Mira's free hand came up to rest against his jaw and she kissed him back just as softly, and when they finally drew apart the last notes of the song were fading.
Mira let out a small sigh against his lips and then stepped back half a pace, her hand still holding his. "I need to sit down, my love. My feet are starting to ache."
"Of course." Arthur immediately adjusted his grip to support her arm properly and began to guide her back toward the dais at a careful and only released her once she was safely settled back into her chair.
He then turned to Cassie and offered her his hand with a small bow. "My lady. Would you do me the honour."
Cassie smiled up at him and slid her fingers into his. "I was beginning to think you had forgotten about me."
"Never," he said softly.
He helped her down from the dais with the same care he had used for Mira, supporting her through each step until her feet met the floor of the hall. Then he drew her into his arms and into the next dance as the bards struck up a gentler melody.
Cassie did not say much as they danced. She simply rested her cheek against his chest whenever the turns allowed and let him guide her through the steps. Every so often she would squeeze his fingers or press herself a little closer to him and he would tighten his arm around her.
When the song finally ended Cassie lifted her head from his shoulder and looked up at him with a small smile. "Rhaella would like to dance with you, you know."
Arthur blinked. "What."
"She would not say so herself, of course," Cassie continued. "She is far too proud and far too aware of her station. But I have been watching her watch you, my love, and I can tell." Her smile grew a touch wider. "She wants to dance with you, but likely thinks you wouldn't ask her."
Arthur swallowed and glanced briefly back toward the high table where Rhaella sat in conversation with Mira. For a moment she turned her head and her violet eyes met his across the distance before she looked away again just as quickly.
"She is right," Arthur admitted while he turned his attention back to Cassie. "She should not be seen dancing with a squire. It would be... inappropriate. People would talk, and not kindly."
Cassie's eyebrows climbed, her smile turned distinctly mischievous. "Let me see if I have this correctly. You will face down a dozen armed men on a ship in the harbour, fight through blood and steel without flinching, and then kill them all while outnumbered. But you are scared of asking one princess for one dance."
Arthur opened his mouth and then closed it again.
A helpless laugh rose out of his chest. "When you put it that way, it does sound rather foolish of me."
"It sounds entirely foolish of you," Cassie corrected primly. "Go. Ask her. She will not bite you. Probably." Her eyes twinkled. "And if she does, I expect a retelling."
Arthur shook his head with a grin and guided her back toward the dais. He helped her up the steps just as carefully as before, waited until she was settled comfortably back into her chair beside Mira, and then straightened and turned his eyes toward Rhaella.
The princess looked up at him with curiosity as he stepped around the back of the table and came to stand beside her chair. Arthur drew a breath and inclined his head with all the grace he could manage. "Your Grace. If it would please you, I would be deeply honoured if you would allow me the next dance."
Rhaella's eyes widened a fraction. She had clearly not been expecting him to ask and for just a heartbeat the perfect composure of the Targaryen princess slipped and something younger flickered across her face before she recovered. She set her cup down with care and rose from her chair. "The honour would be mine, Arthur."
He offered her his arm and she placed her hand lightly upon it, and together they descended the steps of the dais and moved out onto the floor of the great hall.
Arthur could feel the shift in the room the moment they reached the dance floor. Heads turned. Conversations at the nearest tables paused for the briefest instant before resuming with a slightly different pitch. He ignored all of it, drew himself up to his full height, and guided Rhaella into position.
He placed one hand at her waist and clasped her other in his, and they began to move.
Rhaella was, unsurprisingly, an excellent dancer. She moved with the grace of a woman who had been trained in every courtly art since she was old enough to walk. Arthur had to concentrate for the first few turns to make certain he did not step on the hem of her gown or lead her in the wrong direction, but she was patient with him and guided him subtly through the moments where his footwork faltered.
"You dance better than you I expected you too," she said quietly after the first full turn.
"I have been practicing," Arthur admitted. "Mira insisted, not long after we came to the Red Keep. She said if I was going to be a knight one day, I needed to know how to lead a lady across a floor without crushing her toes."
Rhaella's mouth curved into a small amused smile. "She is a wise woman, your Mira."
"Wiser than me by a mile."
They moved through another turn together and Arthur found himself looking down into the princess's face. She was not beautiful the way Mira and Cassie was beautiful. Rhaella's beauty was different. It was something otherworldly snd ethereal, like staring up at a star.
She was looking up at him too. "May I ask you something, Arthur."
"Of course, Princess," he replied.
"Do you ever regret coming to the Red Keep?" She asked.
The question caught him off guard and he had to think about it for a moment as they turned together. "No," he said at last. "There have been hard days. There will be more of them. But I have found people here who matter to me, and I would not trade that for an easier life somewhere else."
Rhaella was quiet for a long moment after that. Her eyes searched his face with an intensity that felt almost uncomfortable. "I am glad," she said finally. "The Red Keep can be a cold place, Arthur. It has been a cold place for much of my life. Lately it has felt warmer. I think I know why."
Arthur's step faltered almost imperceptibly and he had to recover quickly to keep them in time with the music. He did not know what to say to that. He did not trust himself to say anything at all. Somewhere between the first turn and the middle of the dance, somewhere between her smile and the feeling of her hand in his and the way she looked up at him with those violet eyes, something had shifted inside his chest that had no business shifting.
"The Red Keep has been warmer for me as well, Your Grace. Thanks in no small part to your kindness," he finally said in a careful, courtly answer.
Rhaella seemed to understand, because her smile grew slightly sadder at the edges and she did not press him further.
They danced the rest of the song in silence, and Arthur had never been so grateful for the sound of a final note in his entire life. When the music ended he bowed deeply over her hand and she dipped into a graceful curtsey, and they parted with the kind of formal politeness that gave nothing away to anyone who might be watching.
Before either of them could return to the high table, a young lord in a doublet of deep blue stepped forward from the edge of the floor and bowed to Rhaella with a bright eager smile. "Your Grace. Might I be so bold as to ask for the next dance."
At almost the same moment a soft voice spoke at Arthur's elbow. He turned to find one of the Velaryon daughters from the harbour smiling shyly up at him, he thought it was Vaera but he could not be entirely sure. "Arthur. Would you do me the honour of the next dance."
Arthur recovered quickly and inclined his head with a polite smile. "The honour would be mine, my lady."
Rhaella accepted the young lord's offered hand and Arthur took the Velaryon girl's, and the two of them moved off in different directions.
Arthur guided Vaera through the steps of the dance with the same attention he had given to Rhaella, though his mind was only half on the music. Vaera was sweet and polite and full o gratitude, she thanked him at least three separate times in the course of the song.
Arthur smiled and murmured gracious denials and told her she owed him nothing at all. But every so often, while they turned through the dance, his eyes would drift across the floor and find Rhaella dancing with the young blue-clad lord. And every single time they did, he found that she was already looking back at him. Their gazes would meet for a heartbeat, and then they would both look away at the same time.
It happened three times before the dance ended.
When the music finally faded Arthur bowed over Vaera's hand and escorted her politely back to her father's table, and then he turned and made his way back toward the dais. He had just set one foot on the bottom step when Duncan rose from his chair at the centre of the high table and lifted one hand in the air.
"My lords and my ladies," Duncan called out. "If I might have your attention for a few moments."
Arthur paused on the step and then moved quietly around to the side of the dais, unwilling to interrupt Duncan by climbing up and crossing in front of him while he was speaking. Duncan let the silence stretch just long enough for it to settle properly and then he smiled at the assembled hall.
"I imagine many of you have been wondering all evening why such a grand feast has been called tonight. And why, with so much of the royal family away from the capital, we have gathered here at all." His smile broadened a fraction. "The truth is that there are several reasons. And I think it is time that I shared them with you."
A murmur of interest rippled through the hall and then quieted again as Duncan lifted a hand for silence.
"First. Many of you know that the position of Hand of the King has stood vacant for some time. My father has been searching for a man he could trust with the burden of that office, and after much consideration he offered the position to me." Duncan paused. "I have accepted. As of this night, I serve as Hand of the King to His Grace, King Aegon the Fifth of his name."
The hall erupted.
A great cheer went up from the benches and the tables, cups were raised in the air and pounded against the wood in approval, and several of the older lords rose to their feet to offer formal congratulations across the length of the hall. Arthur watched from his position beside the dais and found himself clapping along with the rest, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth despite the heaviness still sitting in his chest from the dance with Rhaella.
Duncan would be a good Hand. He was fair and clever, he had an instinct for trouble, and the realm would be better for having him at the king's side.
Duncan let the cheers run their course and then raised his hand again for quiet. It took a few moments for the hall to settle, and when it did his expression had turned more serious. "The second reason for tonight's feast is less joyful, but no less important. Some of you may already have heard whispers about what occurred at the harbour several nights ago. I would like to speak plainly about it now, so that rumour does not twist the truth any further than it already has."
A murmur of renewed interest moved through the hall.
"Someone tried to steal a number of dragon eggs from House Targaryen." Duncan's voice hardened as he spoke. "Priceless relics of our house, the last remnants of the dragons of old. They were nearly spirited out of the Red Keep and onto a ship bound for the east. At the same time, these same men abducted the two daughters of Lord Daemon Velaryon from their very chambers in this castle."
The hall went absolutely silent. A few of the nearer lords exchanged horrified glances. Down at one of the lower tables Lord Daemon Velaryon's face had gone very still.
And Arthur, standing beside the dais with both hands at his sides, went rigid. He saw where this was going about three seconds before it happened and he cursed under his breath in a way that would have earned him a clip round the ear from his mother back in Harrowfield.
"Fortunately," Duncan continued, "the eggs were recovered. The Velaryon daughters were rescued unharmed. The men responsible were captured or killed. All of this was accomplished by a single man." Duncan's eyes found Arthur's in the crowd and held them. "A man who, despite being vastly outnumbered, fought his way onto that ship alone. A man who killed nearly a dozen of those bastards with nothing but his sword and his courage. A man who got those two young women off that ship and to safety before the Goldcloaks even arrived to assist."
The hall was so quiet now that Arthur could hear the candles burning.
"Arthur of Harrowfield." Duncan's voice rang out clearly. "Come up here. Stand beside me."
Arthur drew a breath and climbed the steps of the dais. He walked around the back of the high table and came to stand beside Duncan at the centre, where the prince was waiting for him. His heart was beating harder than it had before, and he was suddenly acutely aware of every eye in the hall fixed on him.
Duncan turned to face him and rested a hand on his shoulder. "Arthur," Duncan said. "You went above and beyond in service to House Targaryen. You proved not only your bravery but your willingness to do what is right in the face of overwhelming odds. You protected maidens who had been stolen from their beds. You recovered treasures that belong to my family." He paused, and his grip tightened slightly. "There is only one fitting reward for a man who has done all of this."
Duncan's eyes glinted with something very much like amusement.
"Arthur of Harrowfield. Kneel."
Arthur's eyes snapped wide and his mouth opened before his brain had fully caught up. "What."
"Kneel," Duncan repeated, and now there was a small crooked grin playing at the corner of the prince's mouth.
Arthur's knees moved before the rest of him caught up. He lowered himself slowly onto the stone of the dais and knelt before the prince while the entire hall watched in breathless silence.
Duncan drew his sword from its sheath and held it up for a moment so that all the hall could see it, and then he lowered it gently to Arthur's right shoulder.
"In the name of the Warrior, I charge you to be brave."
"In the name of the Father, I charge you to be just."
"In the name of the Mother, I charge you to defend the young and the innocent."
"In the name of the Maid, I charge you to protect all women."
"In the name of the Smith, I charge you to be strong."
"In the name of the Crone, I charge you to be wise."
"In the name of the Stranger, I charge you to keep your vows until the end of your days."
Duncan held the sword there for a long moment while Arthur knelt with his head bowed and his heart thundering in his ears. Then the prince lowered the blade slowly to his side and let his voice drop a touch lower. "Before I bid you rise, Arthur, there is one more matter. As a knight of the Seven Kingdoms and a man of noble rank, you now have the right to take a house name of your own. To choose the name that you and your descendants will carry into history." He smiled.
"Think carefully. A name is no small thing."
Arthur lifted his head to look up at the prince.
And the system chimed in the back of his mind.
────────────────────
[WARNING — IMPORTANT CHOICE]
────────────────────
Opportunity to choose House Name.
House names will grant unique traits and skills to all those who bear the name, including your blood children and their descendants in turn.
The user may choose their own name instead, but in doing so will not benefit from the powerful bloodline traits.
────────────────────
PENDRAGON
Bloodline Traits:
[Dragonheart]
Pendragons possess a powerful inner will that makes them almost impossible to break. Fear, torture, intimidation, mind control, and despair have a weaker effect on them. Even when wounded, exhausted, or outnumbered, they can continue fighting long after others would collapse. Natural resistance to panic and the ability to remain calm in the middle of chaos.
[Crown of Command]
The Pendragon line carries an ancient kingly aura. Their presence naturally draws attention and loyalty. Soldiers fight harder under them, nobles respect them more easily, and common people are more willing to trust them. Not simple charisma. People instinctively believe they were born to rule.
[Blood of Avalon]
Pendragons possess a connection to old magic, sacred kingship, and the hidden power of the land itself. Their blood resonates with enchanted weapons, ancient relics, forgotten ruins, and places of spiritual importance. More likely to awaken magical talents, especially abilities tied to light, healing, protection, fate, or prophecy.
Skills:
[Royal Swordsmanship]
Members of the family learn swordsmanship far faster than normal people and often become masters of longswords, greatswords, shields, and mounted combat. They excel at fighting multiple opponents and holding the line against overwhelming odds.
[Battlefield Leadership]
Natural commanders. Can organize troops, read the flow of battle, spot weaknesses in enemy formations, and keep morale high even during disasters.
[Master Horsemanship]
Natural talent for controlling powerful mounts, especially warhorses. Can ride for long distances without tiring, fight effectively from horseback, and remain calm in the middle of cavalry charges and collapsing battle lines.
────────────────────
WAYNE
Bloodline Traits:
[Iron Discipline]
Waynes can force themselves through exhaustion, pain, and fear better than most people. Very difficult to mentally break.
[Genius Lineage]
Naturally intelligent, especially in engineering, investigation, and planning.
[Hidden Persona]
Unusually good at hiding their emotions, intentions, and true capabilities. Even close friends may underestimate them.
Skills:
[Investigation]
Excellent detectives. Notice clues, inconsistencies, and hidden motives faster than most people.
[Martial Arts]
Learn hand-to-hand combat quickly and can combine different fighting styles into one effective system.
[Wealth Management]
Understand business, economics, and resource control. Know how to turn money into power.
────────────────────
ATREIDES
Bloodline Traits:
[Noble Bearing]
Associated with dignity, discipline, and high standards. Members of the family naturally appear trustworthy and honourable.
[Strategic Mind]
Think several steps ahead. Better at planning, predicting enemy actions, and staying calm under pressure.
[Voice of Authority]
People naturally listen when an Atreides speaks. Persuasive and able to guide crowds, armies, and political allies.
Skills:
[Tactical Command]
Excel at battlefield strategy, logistics, and organizing forces. Capable of winning through planning rather than brute force.
[Diplomacy]
Talented negotiators. Can settle disputes, form alliances, and convince enemies to compromise.
[Blade Combat]
Trained heavily in knife fighting, duelling, and personal combat. Especially effective in close-range fights.
────────────────────
Arthur's eyes flicked across the three options while his heart continued to hammer in his chest. Every second he took felt like a year. Duncan was still watching him with that small patient smile, clearly assuming Arthur was simply overwhelmed by the sudden decision, which was not wrong exactly.
Wayne was tempting. The investigation and the wealth management alone would have made him a far more effective than he was. Atreides was the safer choice in many ways, diplomacy and strategic thinking would have served him well in the snakepit that was the Red Keep.
But Pendragon.
Pendragon called to him in a way the other two did not. The name felt right in a way he could not have explained even to himself. It was the kind of name that felt like it had been waiting for him to find it.
He made his choice.
The system chimed and the menu faded from his vision. Arthur drew a breath and lifted his eyes to meet Duncan's.
"Pendragon, Your Grace," he said clearly, his voice confident for the first time since he had knelt. "I would take the name Pendragon."
Duncan's brow furrowed slightly in curiosity. "Pendragon. That is a peculiar name, my friend. I do not think I have heard it before. What does it mean."
Arthur thought quickly. "It is a name from an old story I heard once, Your Grace. From a hedge knight passing through Harrowfield when I was a boy. I do not remember the tale very well anymore, but I remember the name stuck with me. In the tongue of the story, it meant protector of dragons."
Duncan's eyes lit up with genuine delight at that and a smile spread across his face. "Protector of dragons." He gave a soft laugh under his breath. "How perfectly fitting."
He lifted his voice then so that all the hall could hear him once more. "You knelt before this hall as Arthur of Harrowfield." Duncan raised his sword and extended his free hand.
"Now rise, Arthur Pendragon, A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms."
Arthur pushed himself up to his feet.
The great hall erupted.
A thunderous cheer went up from every corner of the chamber. Lords rose to their feet and raised their cups in the air. Ladies clapped gloved hands together in delighted applause. Cups pounded against tables and boots stamped against the stone floor and the entire Red Keep seemed to shake with the sound of it. Arthur stood at the centre of the high table beside the Prince of the Realm with the cheers of a hundred nobles washing over him, and for one single moment every hardship he had ever known simply did not exist.
He had never felt as good in his entire life as he did right then.
Two years ago he had been dying in a shed in Harrowfield.
Tonight he was Arthur Pendragon, knight of the Seven Kingdoms.
Duncan gave him a proud smile and then turned back to face the hall. He lifted his hand again, and slowly, reluctantly, the cheers began to die down as the lords and ladies realised the prince had more to say. It took longer this time. The excitement in the room had caught fire and was not eager to burn itself out. But eventually the hall quieted once more, and Duncan lowered his hand.
"My friends," Duncan said. "I have one more piece of news to share with you tonight. Something that has weighed on my heart, and something I believe you all deserve to hear."
Arthur, still standing beside him on the dais, felt the first cold prickle of warning at the back of his neck.
"Many years ago, when I was a young man," Duncan began, "I loved a young woman. I loved her deeply. But I was a prince of the realm, and she was not, and in the end I did what my position required of me and I let her go. I thought I was being honourable. I thought I was doing what was right."
The hall was absolutely silent.
"What I did not know," Duncan continued, "was that when I broke things off with her, she was carrying my child."
A gasp ran through the hall like wind through dry grass. Arthur's stomach dropped so violently that he almost reached out to grab the back of a chair to steady himself.
No. No, no, no. Not here. Not now. Not in front of everyone.
"I never knew. I never knew she was with child when I left her. I never knew she gave birth to a daughter, and I never knew she died shortly after, and I never knew that my daughter grew up in an orphanage in this very city, not a stone's throw from the Red Keep itself."
"I only learned the truth a few nights ago. And when I did, I knew that I could not let another hour pass without setting things right."
He turned slightly, and his eyes found Cassie at the high table. LMy lords and ladies. This is my daughter. Cassandra Waters. Born of my blood and raised without my name through no fault of her own."
Every head in the hall turned toward Cassie at once.
Cassie sat absolutely frozen in her chair. Her face had gone the colour of milk. Her hands were gripping the edge of the table so hard that her knuckles had turned white. She was staring at her father with an expression that Arthur could not read and did not want to read.
Arthur's heart was hammering against his ribs. He turned his head slowly toward Duncan and could feel the blood draining from his own face. This was not supposed to happen like this. Duncan had promised. Duncan had said he would speak to her privately, face to face, as a father owed his daughter.
Duncan did not stop.
He reached inside his doublet and drew out a folded piece of parchment, which he held up for the hall to see. "As Hand of the King, and in the absence of my father from the capital, I exercise the authority granted to me by this office. I have here a formal decree of legitimisation. As of this night, Cassandra Waters is acknowledged as my trueborn daughter by blood, and she shall henceforth be known to the realm as Cassandra Targaryen."
The gasp that rippled through the hall this time was louder than the first.
Arthur leaned in close to Duncan and caught his arm. "Your Grace," he said under his breath, his voice tight with alarm, "what are you doing."
Duncan did not look at him. "Trust me, Arthur."
"Duncan, please."
"But that is not all," Duncan continued, his voice rising again to carry over the murmuring hall. He tucked the parchment back inside his doublet with one hand and lifted the other for silence. "As you can all see, my beautiful daughter is with child."
Arthur's grip on Duncan's arm tightened hard.
"Your Grace," he whispered urgently. "Please. Stop. Not like this."
Duncan gently but firmly removed Arthur's hand from his arm and stepped forward half a pace. He was smiling now, that same stubborn prince's smile Arthur had seen on the harbour wall when Duncan had insisted on coming with him against all reason. There was no stopping him now. He had decided on this course before he ever stood up from his chair and nothing Arthur could say was going to move him from it.
"The father of the child," Duncan said clearly, "is none other than Arthur Pendragon, the knight standing at my side. A man who has already proven himself more worthy of her heart than most men in this realm could ever hope to be."
The hall exploded into chatter.
Arthur closed his eyes for a brief moment. He could hear gasps and muttered exclamations and at least one goblet being dropped against a stone floor. When he opened his eyes again Cassie was still staring at her father with that same frozen expression, Mira had gone very pale beside her and Rhaella was looking at Arthur with an expression as if asking if he knew about it.
"Now, I know what you are all thinking," Duncan pressed on, apparently intent on finishing the job no matter what. "Arthur is a married man. His marriage to Mira of Harrowfield has been known in this court since he first arrived. And what I am about to say has not been done in the Seven Kingdoms in many generations."
Arthur's stomach dropped another full inch.
'No. Absolutely not. He would not.'
"In my capacity as Hand of the King, and in accordance with the ancient customs of Old Valyria, which are the birthright of any Targaryen who wishes to claim them, I have granted Arthur Pendragon the right to take a second wife. My daughter Cassandra has chosen to exercise her ancestral right under Valyrian custom, and the ceremony binding her to Arthur has already been performed."
He.
He actually.
He actually did it.
Arthur stood there on the dais with his mouth slightly open and his eyes wide and the world around him reduced to a kind of muffled roaring sound. No one had taken a second wife in Westeros since Maegor the Cruel. Maegor. The king whose name was still invoked to frighten children. Not since then. Not in two hundred years. And Duncan Targaryen, freshly appointed Hand of the King, had just stood up in front of the assembled nobility of the Red Keep and announced that Arthur Pendragon had two wives, one of them the newly legitimised bastard daughter of the Prince himself.
Arthur was going to have words with him later. So many words. All the words he had ever known, arranged in several extremely creative combinations.
"I was present at the ceremony myself," Duncan continued smoothly, as though he had not just upended two centuries of Westerosi marriage custom in a single sentence. "So too were Ser Gerold Hightower of the Kingsguard and Prince Lewyn Martell. The union has been witnessed and recorded in the proper manner. Once the child is born, it shall be up to the mother and the father to decide whether the baby bears the name Pendragon or the name Targaryen."
"I will say this once, and only once. Anyone in this hall who wishes to speak out against this decision, whether now or in the days and weeks to come, is speaking out not against me alone but against the will of the royal family itself. Any lord or lady who wishes to test that position is welcome to do so, but they should understand very clearly what they are doing before they open their mouths."
The silence that followed was deafening.
Then Duncan's expression softened and he opened his arms in a gesture of warm welcome, and the stern Hand of the King was replaced once more by the easy grinning prince. "With all of that said, my friends, please, by all means, enjoy the feast. The wine is excellent and the musicians are better. There is much to celebrate tonight." He clapped his hands, and the bards on the floor below picked up their instruments again and struck up a new tune.
Conversation began to resume around the tables in, and the feast slowly began to continue.
Arthur stood frozen on the dais beside Duncan.
He looked across the high table toward Cassie.
Cassie was already rising from her chair. She moved carefully, one hand pressed to the swell of her belly for balance, Mira reached out to try to take her other hand but Cassie gently pulled away. She did not look at Arthur. She did not look at Duncan. She did not look at anyone. She simply stepped down from the dais, and she walked out of the great hall without a single word.
Arthur's eyes followed her the entire way until she disappeared through the archway.
"Damn it," he breathed.
(AN: A little longer than usual. But it was an important chapter. Duncan had been planning this from the start, for what reason? Who knows. Targaryens are a mysterious bunch. Anyway how do you like the house name? I thought I might as well go all in on the Arthur bit. Hope you enjoyed.)
Support if ya want.
Patreon.com/captainalfie78works