Megara awoke with a start, chest heaving, sweat beading down her body. Gasping for air and feeling like her body was burning she rolled over and ended up falling off the side of bed by mistake. She laid there for a while, going her best to calm herself down, and when she was slightly less hysterical, she sat up.
The air in her room was sickly sweet with incense burning in all four corners. The usual torches blazed, the hearth remained untouched, and she wasn't sure if it was night or morning, nor was sure what day it was. For a moment, she thought that the Ceremony might have been a dream, but then she looked down at her neck. The glowing blue rune of water, three waves clashing was there, the pale white gust of swirling winds that was air, the green leaf of earth, and finally, a golden tree glowing brighter than all the other ones.
What? She thought in utter confusion as she grabbed onto the bed and pulled herself up. She went to call for help, but remembered her vows and stayed silent. She was still dressed, shoes and all, the only thing that wasn't on her person anymore was her cloak, which hanging with the others beside her bed. Choosing a jet black one, she exited her bedroom.
A sharp intake of breath followed the closing of her door, as she took in the much thinner, more breathable air in the hall, as there was no incense burning there. It was quiet, too quiet. She heard no alchemists at their craft, servants working, mages training, no one stirring in their bedchambers.
She made her way past all the tapestries, down the stairs, and into the Throne Room, expecting no one to be there either, just as there was no one anywhere else. She was startled to find herself dead wrong. Her parents were there, looking exasperated, and the lower tables of the Great Hall were lined with people she'd never seen before. None of them wore cloaks, giving her the impression they were not from Asshai. They looked to be more from Sothoros, with skin like tar and mongrel like mannerism as they sat and feasted.
Her mother was seated upon the throne with a tired look in her eyes. She was dressed in a red and black dress of lace with a golden cloak about her shoulders, hood down. Beside her stood her father, leaning against the throne with puffy red eyes, looking sleep deprived. Her was dressed in a dark red and gold tunic with black pants and brown boots with a black cloak about his shoulders, hood down as well.
Keeping hers up, she made her way over to them, glancing at the rowdy bunch at the seats. Her father jumped to alertness as a hand was placed upon his shoulder, and looked over to see her standing there, looking confused. He didn't wait even a second before turning around and throwing his arms around her in a tight but tired hug that screamed relief, but she wasn't sure why.
Her mother looked bitter as she greeted her daughter with a nod, confusing the girl even more. "There is much we must discuss," her father whispered to her. "But not here. Not now." She furrowed her eyebrows and nodded to the mongrels with dark skin that were seated at the tables. "They are a... part of it, yes. As I said, much to discuss."
The Sothoros mongrels aren't all of it? She thought as she looked over at them again. There was one man who stood out among them, quite literally as he walked along the table talking to them, though they did not talk back, clearly drunk out of his wits. The only ones to talk back were children or servants from Shadowstone. He had light skin, blue lips and an eye patch. He was fairly good looking, but clearly not the kind of person to get involved with in any way, shape, or form.
She wanted to ask her father if they could talk now, but she remembered her vows and bit her tongue. Instead of speaking, she grabbed his arm and pointed to the door to the north tower so he could explain away from the Mongrels and madman, and bitter Lady Gwen, for whatever reason she was so bitter. He seemed to understand and turned to his Lady wife for a moment, "We'll be back shortly."
She glowered after them as they made their way to the north tower, up the stairs that mirrored those of the other towers to the third level door and went in to her father's work station. All about it were ingredients that gave off wild and interesting smells, vials and caldrons, several odd liquids and some potions that were all neatly placed in the small room.
"Alright, where do I start with this? You've been sleeping for... for a long while, Meg. Two moon turns," she blinked at him, trying to see if he was joking, when he continued and showed no sign of a jape, she assumed it was true and listened as he continued. "The mages say it is because of your rune, your golden rune... do you know anything about it?" She shook her head no, she didn't know anything about it, even as she tried her hardest to recall if she had.
"There was only one other person in our known history to have a golden tree was Merlin. You know Merlin, right?" She had to laugh. Of course she knew Merlin; she was raised on stories of his valor from him no less. Merlin was the greatest sorcerer who ever lived, he was the one who took control of the minds of the dragons, the only one powerful enough to do so. He stole them right out from under the Targaryens, quite literally, and wouldn't give them back until they agreed to leave House Emrys alone from then on.
"Your mother has been a little... edgy since then. She always thought she'd be the most powerful mage in Asshai of this age. Captain Euron Greyjoy and those Mongrels you saw... they're here to take you to Westeros. They're the only sailors willing to come here." She felt her eyes get glossy with tears and furrowed her eyebrows. Why would they be sending her away? She hadn't done anything, she didn't want to leave, Shadowstone was the only home she'd ever known, it was where her friends were, her family, not to mention she was the only heir to the castle.
"I don't want you to go, trust me Meg I don't! But your mother... I think she means to get rid of you. In Westeros you'll be safer, she has no friends there, or too few friends without power and if your betrothed to one of the greatest knights in their kingdom, in their capital, near their king..."
She was silent on the outside, fighting tears that continued to fall but inside she was screaming in a mix of sadness, rage and confusion. A betrothal, Westeros, why is this happening, and all those thoughts were on a loop inside her head. "I suppose you want to know who..." that hadn't even crossed her mind yet, but now she certainly did. "His name is Jamie Lannister. He's known as the Kingslayer in Westeros."
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Oaths and Vows {Jaime Lannister}
Fanfiction"Oaths and Vows and Prayers, all things said before Gods and Kings and people called our betters. They're all Just words. They're all just promises. They're all just meant to be broken." Ser Jaime Lannister, The Kingslayer. Lady Megara Emrys, The Si...
