The People's Prince

A Grand Wedding

Hello everyone,

I just want to apologise for the long wait for this chapter.

I was suffering with some writers block and was rather busy with some university work.

Now, I'm back though and will publish the next four chapters over the weekend before I go to schedule of around two chapters a week for each Fanfiction.

Hope you enjoy this chapter

Thank you very much for reading this story.

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Not long after Prince Aelors' wish to marry Lady Laena, plans for the wedding were well underway.

King Viserys spared no expense for the wedding of his first-born son, orchestrating a spectacle that would be etched in the annals of history. He commanded the presence of all the nobles from houses big and small, declaring a week's worth of celebrations, from lavish feasts and exhilarating tourneys to thrilling dragon races, all at his daughter's behest.

He called upon his Hand, Otto Hightower, to summon the High Septon from Oldtown to officiate the wedding. The ceremony was to take place in the high sept a week from now, and the King could not wait for the celebrations. He believed that in such times of tragedy, a wedding was what they all needed to lift their spirits amidst the grieving.

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In the days leading up to the grand wedding at the Great Sept of King's Landing, the capital bustled with activity as nobles from every corner of the realm flocked to the city, their carriages and banners lining the streets in a colourful display of pomp and ceremony.

Each noble house was announced with fanfare, their heralds proclaiming their lineage and titles for all to hear. Lords and ladies, adorned in their finest attire, descended upon the city like a sea of richly woven fabrics and gleaming jewellery, their retinues trailing behind them in a procession of splendour.

Among the arrivals were the proud lords of the Reach, their sigils of roses and thorns emblazoned upon their surcoats, and the stoic lords of the North, their fur-lined cloaks marking them as sons of winter. From the stormy shores of the Iron Islands to the sun-drenched lands of Dorne, nobles of every region came to pay homage to the union of House Targaryen and House Velaryon.

In the streets of King's Landing, merchants and artisans plied their wares, eager to cater to the needs of the visiting nobility. Taverns and inns overflowed with patrons, their raucous laughter mingling with the strains of music that drifted through the air. It was a time of festivity and celebration, a brief respite from the turmoil and uncertainty that often plagued the realm.

Among the nobles, whispers of intrigue and ambition of alliances that could form and ancient rivalries simmered beneath the surface. Yet, for a fleeting moment, all troubles are set aside as the city united in anticipation of the royal wedding, a symbol of unity and hope for the realm's future.

And so, as the wedding day dawned and the Great Sept of King's Landing opened its doors to welcome the guests, the capital stood as a testament to the enduring power of tradition and ceremony, a beacon of light in a world fraught with darkness and uncertainty.

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Before the grand ceremony at the Great Sept of King's Landing, Prince Aelor Targaryen paced in his chambers in the Red Keep, his mind swirling with emotions. The weight of the impending marriage alliance bore heavily upon his shoulders, and despite his outward composure, he wrestled with doubt and uncertainty inwardly.