Enigmas | Aemond Targaryen

EIGHTEEN

The day we arrived at Harrenhal was not an auspicious one, the skies were slate, the evasive sun shone intermittently through scudding chalky clouds, an incessant misty drizzle had descended half the morning, gradually soaking us to a miserable sleekness in our sodden riding raiment.

Yet still throngs of smallfolk and commoners from all over the riverlands had crowded outside the towering walls of Black Harren's gargantuan fortress beside the Gods Eye, craning their necks and jostling each other for a better glimpse of the two largest dragons alive. Thrice had Vhagar and Vermithor whirled and swept over the castle, each time lower than before, giving every farmer, wagonman, fisherfolk, market woman and merchant a chance to shout, clap and marvel. Only after the storming cheer simmered down did Aemond and I bring our dragons down in the yard, where the elderly castellan Ser Simon Strong, great uncle to the current Lord of Harrenhal Larys, was anxiously waiting.

Knowing that Aemond held a petty childhood grudge against anyone with the last name Strong, I took up the task of exchanging greetings and chatting amiably with Ser Simon as he led us to the main hall, grandly named the Hall of a Hundred Hearths even though it only had thirty and some. We were amazed to see everything within the hall was built to an almost comically large scale, more able to fit giants than humans. I inwardly wondered if we could bring our dragons inside and see whether or no they might fit.

The Strong ladies, Lucinda and Ysabella, were the first to come and drop us curtseys. As they were my mother's ladies-in-waiting and had known me since I was a babe, I caught them into a warm hug and asked how fared everything. They congratulated me on my marriage and teased me with little japes and jokes. Then the painfully long introductions began.

The majority of the lords of Trident had seen my mother in her youth as she once made a monumental royal progress to find a suitable husband, so they showed me great love.

From the Twins came Ser Forrest Frey, the very same "Fool Frey" who had once begged for my mother's hand. He kissed my fingertips so many times and commented with watery eyes how much I looked like my mother and how he would kill to gaze upon her visage again that Aemond had to ask him to leave. His lady wife Sabitha apologized and went with him. The Lord Samwell Blackwood, who had lost a duel for my mother's favor, brought with him his maiden sister Alysanne and young son Benjicot. Lady Alysanne was bold enough to challenge me in a duel with bows and arrows, which I gladly accepted. Ser Humfrey Bracken and his son Ser Amos ostensibly favored Aemond, pleading to have a glimpse of the king's sword Blackfyre, which he permitted. While it was a pity that the Lord Paramount of the Trident, Grover Tully of Riverrun was too old and bedridden to travel, he sent his grandson Ser Elmo Tully, a comely young man with auburn hair that humbly bowed before both of us. And there were many more minor lordlings, the Mootons of Maidenpool, the Pipers of Pinkmaiden Castle, the Darrys of Darry, the Mallisters of Seagard...

My face ached from the perpetual smile I had to plaster over my face by the end of the introductions. When Lady Lucinda and Ysabella Strong announced that we would feast tonight and arrange a royal audience on the morrow for the riverlords to speak their grievances and concerns in more detail, I almost sighed in relief.

The first thing I ordered when we were in our apartments was to tell the maids to bring me a blistering hot bath, as scorching as it could be. I dispelled Aemond to fetch my clothes, and fell nigh on instantly asleep in the gigantic copper tub filled with steaming hot water.

I have no idea how much later it was that I awakened with a tickling sensation on my chest. I nearly exclaimed when I saw a svelte woman in a dark-dyed green dress scrubbing gently my naked body with a scented soap, her slightly slanted eyes green as wild fire, her raven dark hair lush and glinting like dark pearls from Naath.