cruel gods [aemond targaryen]

Slaughter of lambs

The day had broke, the clouds settling over the city like a blanket in winter, shielding the city from the horrors that lay beyond the sky.

Maellery led in the warm water, hearing the mumblings of her family and guests outside. The Catell family were highly respected, offering political advantages to all who joined. When the news of her betrothal had reached, many offered their support to the young lady, now showering her in lavish gifts.

It was traditional to have people in your chambers while you ready, Maellery had underestimated the amount that needed to be present. She had become suspicious when the 11th person had entered, some lady she had no recollection of meeting, sometimes wondering if they were to keep an eye on her in case she fled.

"Maellery" her mother called, her voice calm considering the day. She thought her mother would weep, weep so loudly she would be escorted from the ceremony. So far, no tears fell. "Maellery, my dearest love, you mustn't take all day. The ceremony begins soon."

Maellery had thought that if she stayed long enough, the water would change and swallow her. She would live out her life in the waves, amongst the plants in the sea. Silly thoughts.

With her final goodbye to her bath, she very reluctantly left, her maids hurrying to dry her while bringing her to her station. Readying her for this day proved to be much harder than others. She adopted a casual look, leaning more toward her mothers fashion than targaryen.

She soon realised that the last of her mother would be erased within her today. She would have to dress in Targaryen fashion, the last thing was the crown of gold her mother had gifted her.

She could not tell you about the last time she had felt nerves, she felt them often sure but she could not tell you the last time. The only thought that plagued her mind was the running of her wedding. Her brain became obsessed with fears, sprouting out ridiculous theories of what may happen this faithful day.

Her mother and guests crowding around her, like a beautiful painting to the poor. Gifts were also placed into random parts of the room, many being sweet things that Maellery and her maids could feast on later. There was also a goblet of gold, given to her by the King along with a book on the history of the family.

They conversed between themselves, Maellery choosing not to engage in such conversations, instead focusing on the small girl in the mirror, holding her mothers hand as if she were about to be sacrificed to some sort of god. Her hair being put up in an absurd way.

Her wedding dress was a pale blue, a common colour between the brides. Blue represented a colour of purity and innocence, desirable when marrying a noble man.

The sleeves on her dress were ridiculous, spewing out from her actual figure. Her dress was tight, her corset supporting her skirt that draped over her hips. She slipped on her shoes, checking in the mirror at the sight.

"You look" Her mother began, covering her mouth with one of her hands.

"The gods have sent you down to us, angel" Her father finished and each of the guests turned. Maellery and her mother stood, staring at the stranger at the door.

"Thank you father."

The room remained in stillness, some admiring the soon Targaryen, some watching as her father made her way over to her. He picked up the necklace that The Queen had gifted her the day prior.

He brought it up to her neck, wrapping it around her gently, they both looked in the mirror, each staring into the eyes of the other. They were so alike, they were almost identical. As the years grew, the two became more parallel. The love never grew with it. Maellery often caught herself praying that their two personalities never merged, growing as two separate plants, their roots never combining.