The Game of Cyvasse

Trial of the Lion - Part 1

"All hail His Grace Aegon of the House Targaryen and Queen Margaery," bellowed the royal herald as Aegon set foot in the Great Hall, striding toward the Iron Throne, with his fair queen at his side.

The Throne Room was packed with lords and ladies as the pair made their way down the aisle, flanked by five white cloaks, with old Ser Barristan at their head. A twinge of pain in joints reminded Aegon of a past wounds, the walk up the serpentine steps took a small toll. The Chain of Golden Hands hailed Jon Connington as the proper Hand of the King, while the griffin stood before the dais that bore the dreaded Iron Throne, coveted by so many.

The rest of the Small Council were gathered: Varys, the sole remnant of the old council; Gorys Edoryen, the new Master of Coin who had consented to serve Illyrio's cause; Obara, a councilor without a title who spoke for Dorne; Lord Monford Velaryon, the Lord Admiral of the Royal Fleet, with Ser Horas Redwyne as his second, for Aegon had not yet named a Master of Ships. They said Renly had dubbed his Kingsguard the 'Rainbow Guard,' and Aegon might do the same for his Small Council. Cousin Monford had fair locks, Jon and Gorys a red hair of different shades, the first fiery and the second a darker, bloodier hue; Redwyne had a strange orange color, and Obara had brown head. The seat of Master of Laws was vacant, awaiting one of the Reacher lords, who were busy with their wars.

The kingly crown was solemnly borne by Septa Lemore, clad in a white robe, with Aegon's cousin Tyene at her side in a matching garb. Aegon knew it was a jest, for she would soon scandalize the High Septon and others with her scanty attire. The crown was a perfect thread to Targaryen heritage, a plain band of square-cut Valyrian steel and rubies. Robert's smashing of his father's ruby chest was more symbolic than he thought. Another crown, bestowed to Loras by his seneschal cousin, was more elaborate, with a golden band encrusted with splendid flames and nine gemmed coins, each for a vassal house, with the Targaryen three-headed dragon in the middle. The crown that had graced Aegon's grandmother Rhaella, now ment for Margaery, eclipsed the Crown of the Conqueror.

Below the steps of the Iron Throne, the royal pair faced the throng, greeted by cheers. Margaery donned the cloak Aegon had draped over her at their nuptials, while the king had one gifted by Sansa. Aegon's eyes searched the vast hall, seeking her. His wife had done well, for Sansa was far from the front row, near a stout pillar, hardly visible to the eye. You changed the game.

The High Septon, with a sour look, stood before them under the dais, uttering a prayer, shorter than the one at their wedding. He wasted no time before going back to his seat. Aegon and Margaery then bent their knees, and Jon set the crown on Aegon's short silver hair, while Loras did likewise for her soon after. The deed was silent, marked by deafening claps. To the left of the throne, Haldon assumed the part of a herald: "All hail His Grace Aegon of House Targaryen, the Sixth of his name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, and his Queen Consort, Margaery of House Tyrell."

Long history rang through Aegon's ears as he put his right foot on the steps of the huge, spiked monstrosity. Each sword melted meant a triumph for his house, initiating a King's peace and saving countless lives from the turmoil of a divided realm. Yet, each step meant pain, from Maegor's cruelty to Aerys's madness, where death and life were intertwined here, a tale that kept the realm united once the Targaryens lost their precious dragons. Westeros became Westeros thanks to the dragon kings. A strong feeling of necessity enveloped Aegon, a responsibility hidden in an unpleasant iron seat. As much as the throne stood for the deeds of his house, it was also the path taken by him, from toiling in cotton fields and fishing boats, to battles under the hot sun, the fight against the Lannisters, lost love, and the love he had given, all the way to the hardships of exile.