Fury And Pride | Myrcella Baratheon x Male!OC Fanfiction | Game Of Thrones AU

The Black Wedding

The grand sept of Baelor was abuzz with activity. Nobles from across Westeros had gathered for the grand occasion. The aisle was lined with white roses, and the walls were hung with gold and black tapestries. The air was heavy with tension, as all eyes were on the bride and groom, who stood at the altar, ready to recite their vows.

Margaery Tyrell stood radiant in a dress made of silk, her auburn hair braided with gold thread and crowned with a wreath of fresh flowers. Her face was the epitome of innocence and grace as she looked at Steffon from underneath long lashes, her smile as sweet as honey.

Steffon, standing beside her, was not as composed. There was a certain stiffness in his demeanor, a tension in his shoulders and a tightness around his storm blue eyes. Though his voice was steady as he repeated the vows, his mind was elsewhere, haunted by the events earlier that day.

Steffon and Margaery stood before the High Septon, each gripping a burning candle in their hands. The High Septon recited the traditional wedding vows, the words of the Seven echoing through the grand sept.

"Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger... I am his and he is mine, from this day, until the end of my days..." Steffon repeated the words in a clear, loud voice.

Margaery followed suit, her own voice soft and sweet. "Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger... I am his and he is mine, from this day, until the end of my days." She echoed, her eyes never leaving Steffon's emotionless face.

The High Septon, satisfied with the vows, looked upon them with a benevolent smile. "You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection." He proclaimed solemnly. Steffon stepped forward, wrapping the Baratheon cloak around Margaery's slim shoulders. The cloak, heavy and black, seemed to swallow her small frame as he carefully placed it over her.

The assembly, witnessing the symbolic exchange, broke into applause, the air filling with the sound of cheers and well wishes. The sept bells began to ring, announcing the union of Steffon Baratheon and Margaery Tyrell.

Steffon took Margaery's hand in his own, intertwining their fingers in a firm grip. He could feel her slender fingers against his, her touch warm and gentle. Forcing a smile onto is face, he turned to face the congregation and raised their clasped hands into the air, acknowledging the applause.

As Steffon raised his and Margaery's hands into the air, he caught sight of Myrcella sitting amongst the noble ladies in the front row. She sat straight and dignified, her golden hair shining in the lights of the sept. But her eyes were red and puffy as if she had been crying.

Steffon's heart briefly skipped a beat as he saw her, and his gaze flicked towards Tywin's seat. To his surprise, and perhaps some relief, it was empty. The Great Lion was missing from the wedding.

The absence of Tywin Lannister, who had been a looming presence as Hand of the King and Steffon's Hand before, was as noticeable as it was unexpected. But Steffon was in no position to dwell on it now. He had a wife to tend to and a kingdom to rule. Forcing a smile back onto his face, he guided Margaery through the aisle, the nobles and nobleswomen offering respectful nods and smiles as they passed.

Steffon stole occasional glances at Myrcella, but he dare not linger to long, lest he cause a scene. He could see the hurt and disappointment in her green eyes, a silent plea for explanation and understanding. But there was nothing he could do at this moment, there were too many eyes watching, too many ears listening.

- - -

The wedding feast was a grand affair. Massive tables, laden with food and drink, extended the length of the Great Hall. The Lannister-Baratheon banners hung from the walls, and the sound of music and laughter echoed off the stonewalls.