"why would I choose one? I want them both, so I'll have them both. ask me again and I'll have one kill you. "
"..."
"you're dismissed."
{ in which the daughter of Rhaenyra bewitches the two Green princes and single-handedly make...
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{ watch me make 'em bow }
Otto spoke, and as he did, the crowd watched with confusion.
"People of King's Landing, today is the saddest of days. Our beloved king, Viserys the Peaceful, is dead." There was instinct chatter as he continued.
"But it is also the most joyous of days. For as his spirit left us he whispered his final wish that his granddaughter, Valyria, should succeed him!" The crowd murmured amongst themselves about the new Queen.
The one who had visited orphanages over the years and even dedicated money to bettering jobs in the city. The one who was crowned Queen of Love and Beauty, and the one who could fight.
That was good enough for the commoners.
They all started clapping until someone yelled as the Gold Cloaks marched in. "Out of the way! Move!" Someone yelled, and the guards created an aisle as they faced inward. The trumpets started, blaring throughout the large pit.
The guards drew their swords and held them up to create an incredible arch. Rhaenys, who was in the crowd, watched in anticipation. She knew who would walk through those swords.
Until, finally, the Red Queen was there. As she walked, Blackfyre in hand, the swords were dropped behind her. She was silent as she looked intently at her goal, never looking away. She turned the corner of the aisle, and Otto began to speak.
"It is your great good fortune and privilege to be here to witness this. A new day for our city. A new day for our realm. A new queen to lead us." She was almost in slow motion as everyone watched.
Including her Green princes. But they did not wear green. They wore black. For their Queen.
Finally, she got to the summit of the steps and ascended. Alicent kissed her on the forehead, thanking her silently, and Otto nodded intensely at Valyria. The guards marched away as the purple-eyed Targaryen kneeled.
And the priest began his rite, blessing the princess' forehead.
"May the Warrior give her courage. May the Smith lend strength to her sword and shield. May the Father defend her in her need. May the Crone lift her shining lamp and light her way to wisdom."
The priest finished, and the crowd watched intently as he gave the crown of the Conquerer to Ser Criston. It was then his moniker was developed—Queenmaker.
"The crown of the Conqueror, passed down through generations." And from the sidelines, Aegon and Aemond felt a deep respect for their betrothed. Criston placed the crown on Valyria's head, and even though it was worn by men for generations, it fit her perfectly.
"Let the Seven bear witness, Valyria Targaryen is the true heir to the Iron Throne." The priest held his hand out, and Valyria stood, waiting for the royals to acknowledge her.
