The Fire That Burns Within US - Aemond Targaryen

A Wedding Of The Seven Gods

136 - The Great Sept Of Baelor

Visenya nervously paces back and forward in front of Lord Corlys. The Septon is still reading from the holy book, and Visenya is slightly thankful that she doesn't have to stand in front of everyone as he does and the several preys. The cut on her lip has scabbed over, but she keeps picking at it with her teeth. The cut on her hand, as well as Aemonds, had been dressed by Ben the night prior.

The maiden cloak of House Velaryon weighs heavy on her shoulders. The cloak had been given to her this morning by Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys. It was a beautiful, seafoam green base with many tiny seahorses embroidered onto the cloak, the lining was silver, and the words of House Velaryon could be seen by anyone who could read Valyrian.

Her dress feels too tight, and Visenya feels warm. The dress itself is even more beautiful than the cloak the queen had instead of it being white. The dress's material was soft, and Visenya wished she could remember what it was made of. The skirt falls to the floor and has an overskirt made of the same material. Within the overskirt are small details of what could be perceived as swirls of fire or waves at the bottom of the overskirt. The top of the dress is not plain like the skirt, with a scoop neckline that Visenya knows Aemond will like and detailing of dragon scales that go into the sleeves. Visenya curses herself for wanting sleeves; the bell sleeves now make her warm and are in her way. Visenya wears a golden belt around her waist and heavy golden earrings with a sapphire jewel in both.

Visenya's hair is the same as the night before, only now, instead of the headdress, she wears a golden diadem. Visenya fiddles with the thin gold bands around her fingers, and Lord Corlys stops her pacing by holding her hands. Visenya looks at her grandsire, and he gives her a warm smile to help calm her down.

Lord Corlys sees the cut on Visenya's bottom lip and her hand, and he knows that Aemond and her must have had another ceremony. Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys had the same scars on them, as did a few other members of the Valyrian houses.

"I'm sorry that your father could not be here to see you today," Corlys tells Visenya. That is not what she needs to hear right now. "I would suspect that he would be crying in the very moment if he could see you,"

"There is no doubt that he would be," Visenya tries to joke. Honestly, she has been trying not to think of her father today or in the past month, and it makes her sad to know that he wasn't the one escorting her, and she feels guilty for having Daemon escort her last night. Guilty that she was happy that he did.

"Visenya, I want you to know that nothing has made me more proud than having you carry the name of our House," Corlys tells Visenya, and she stops breathing. "Even when you take the name Targaryen you will always be a Velayron,"

Both know the truth about who Visenya's actual father is, but it doesn't matter to either of them. Corlys pulls her into a hug and kisses the temple of her head. Of all the children said to be Ser Laenor, Visenya had been the one Corlys was the proudest to call his blood. The two pull away from a hug, and Corlys centres the diadem in her hair, centring the blue jewel on her forehead. Corlys grabs one of the hands that had been cut last night and pulls away the slightly bloody cloth to reveal the cut.

"Nyke sagon iā uēpa vala yn nyke gīmigon skoros nūmāzma," Corlys tells Visenya, not angry, but he wants her to know that he knows. Anyone who knows Valyria's traditions will know the meaning behind the cut on her hand and lips, and Corlys suspects Aemond has matching ones.

I might be an old man, but I know what these mean.

Visenya smiles nervously at Corlys, her nerves now doubling. She doesn't understand why she is nervous. Technically, Aemond and her were already married; perhaps she is worried that someone might find out about the wedding that happened last night and stop the wedding today. Visenya runs her tongue over the cut in her lip, and the copper taste is both gross and comforting.