Ashes In The Castle ||| Aemond Targaryen

forty-five

Naerys and Aemond took their seats in front of the Dragonpit. Together. It was a time for smallfolk to pay respect to their newly crowned rulers, ask for favour. Before they were taken back to the Red Keep to sit the Iron Throne.

It was strange to have so many people regard Naerys with much respect. They bowed, brought her flowers, and some even offered jewels and gowns they would be delighted if she were to wear.

After, when the smallfolk had their fill and so had the rulers, Aemond and Naerys walked arm-in-arm back down the stairs. She was practicing the walk to ensure her crown didn't topple off of her head.

Getting back into the carriages was another task, since she had to keep her head steady enough to keep the crown on. But once she and Aemond were finally inside, they could take a breath.

Naerys took a moment to simply stare at him. Her husband. Her King. A crown did look better on his head than it had Aegon's. It gave him an air of undeniable power.

"I was right. A crown does look divine on your head." He was thinking the exact same thing.

Their arrival back at the Red Keep had Naerys and Aemond leaving their carriage for the Throne Hall. It would give Lord Tully and his other minor lords a chance to swear fealty to their new monarchs.

They'd already discussed who would sit the throne. It wasn't big enough for two people and they couldn't build two.

The pair were led into the Throne Hall by their guard, it only consisted of two members at that point.

Just as they'd been announced after their coronation, their guards announced them as they entered the hall, Lords and Ladies bowing when they walked past.

That Throne. The one Rhaenyra sat for only a short while. Naerys had always imagined what it would be like to sit up there, to command a room full of people from a chair.

It was said to be the most dangerous seat in the realm.

Together, Aemond and Naerys approached the stairs. They ascended their first few together, before Aemond let go of Naerys' hand and let her walk up the rest of the steps.

He'd already taken the Throne, when Aegon was injured. It was her right to sit it after they were officially coronated.

The seat was daunting. Each crude sword sticking up a threat. That if she wasn't good enough, just enough, it would cut her.

But it was hers to take. It had been hers to take from the moment she was born. Naerys had proven herself over and over, just to be able to walk up those steps.

Everyone was watching her. Naerys knew it. And she breathed.

In a graceful and fluid motion, Naerys gathered her dress, turned and slowly seated herself on the Iron Throne. She rested her hands on the armrests, held her head high, and looked down upon everyone else.

The gods sent her to sit in that seat. Naerys knew it.

She saw her grandfather at the bottom staring up at her with nothing but pride. His blood was finally on the Throne. The wrong dealt to Rhaenys was being avenged by her granddaughter.