Before, the Game of Thrones, the seven kingdoms saw the rise of Westeros as a united country, all seven kingdoms forged into one great kingdom under the greatest dynasty. The story revolves around Aegon and his two sister-queens; their ascent and th...
It was two moons before all of their troops returned to the mouth of Blackwater Rush where the mud erection of Aegonfort stood. With conquest of several other neighboring castles and obtaining their submission, the Targaryen army has swelled in size. There was enough gold to finance the taxation of war.
After proof of their victory, settlements sprouted under the three hills. People from villages far away migrated over leagues lured by sure safety and promise of a flourishing city. Aegon had chosen well. Not only the lands were fertile and trade path preexisted, the shore was ideal for port that'd bring trade to the country. If executed well, it could be the closest sea port to Braavos.
Orys could see the towers rising, strong red bricks that'd raise a keep worthy of a dynasty. It provided him a sense of pride that'd he'd finally have something that he helped to build and not given. He was walking on wet bank of Blackwater, his boot leaving prints in his wake. Several children, naked and mud covered ran past him to their mother busy washing in the bank.
"How long till you finish, ma?" One of them wrapped his arms around his very irritated mother who yanked of his arm and continued to scrub the pot.
He could understand the child's enthusiasm. Orys remembered the first time he was admitted to the great hall of Dragonstone. Her mother after pleading several time had gained her first audience with the then Lord of Dragonstone. It was Visenya's name day, he recalled and the Targaryen siblings wore finer silk. Orys had thought they were gods.
She was looking for sanctuary, his mother was. His father had a nasty temper and the days he came home after a particularly rough day, both mother and son had to be utmost submissive to avoid his wrath. Lady Targaryen sympathized with her and welcomes both of them into their house hold. He had been fostered there since.
Despite being older than the young Lord by several years, Orys quickly grew closer to Aegon as his playmate and older brother. Their parents encouraged this companionship, thrilled to have found a pal for their child on such bleak island. In daytime they were inseparable, going everywhere together. Aegon used to tease him about Visenya, he recalled fondly. That was put to stop by his lady mother however.And now after their demise, he still stood with his brother and live to watch him wear the crown of Westeros. On this note, he remembered to hurry. It was only hours before the ceremony started.
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When the sun shone right above their head, the small courtyard of Aegonfort was overflowing with men. Orys could see the trail of crowd coming up the hill to witness the coronation.
Orys had taken care to dress himself today. His sword was cleaned, hilt shinning and hung from his waist. He had swapped his chainmail for a red surcoat under his golden undershirt and on his neck was clasped his red cloak. A single brass brooch depicting a hand holding a dagger, unlike Aegon's dragon, embroidered his coat.
With his hand firmly on the hilt of his sword, Aegon pushed through the crowd into the overcrowded hall. Everyone stood according to rank. At the very end upon a high pedestal, a wooden throne was placed and two smaller on either side of it. Before them, a temporary sept was constructed with models of the Seven. On left stood his supporters- Velaryons, Celtigars, Maaseys and Caves. In the right the defeated awaited the king's mercy. At the very back stood the common folk jostling to find a place to stand.
"Does the king really have two wives?" He heard a boy speak.
"So he can fuck one rough in the day and another sweet in the night." One quipped.
"Heathens." Somebody else muttered, not too loud. "Marrying into family, their own blood. Such abomination."
"The Gods will prevail, you'll see."
"Hush, here they come."
Aegon led his train wearing red and black, his plush crimson cape sweeping the ground. Behind him followed Rhaenys, wearing all red, rubies glinting and Visenya, wearing black robes with only hint of the crimson skirt underneath.
The ceremony began with the Septon hailing all seven Gods to bless this land. Septon Duncan was relatively younger. He had served the Masseys for some time and had assumed the role as their own septon was indisposed. Aegon knelt in front of the fire, eyes closed in prayers as the septon rubbed holy oil across his forehead.
When the rituals were over, Aegon proceeded to climb the dais. Corlys Velaryon wearing cream and white with his sea blue cloak stepped forth bearing a circlet encrusted with seven equally cut rubies placed upon velvet. It was forged of valyrian steel, something more valued than gold itself.
Visenya, Queen Visenya, he reminded himself, rose to her feet and took the circlet from her ward. All eyes were on her as she took Aegon's right and slowly and steadily set the crown on his head.
Queen Rhaenys declared, "All hail Aegon, First of His Name, King of All Westeros, and Shield of His People." It was the small folk who sent up the loudest cheers.
One by one, everyone knelt before them and swore their allegiance and loyalty, his supporter first and then the defeated former foes. Lord Mooten bent his knee first. He laid his ancestral staff before Aegon's feet and formally swore fealty to him as his King. Others followed suit.
Lastly, Aegon beckoned his maester to send forth a scroll which he handed to Visenya. As she called out names, each emerged from the crowd and bowed to his king.
"Lord Daemon Velaryon."
"Your grace." He bowed to his nephew.
"Rise, my Lord. Not only you are most capable hand in the navy but also my own blood, having provided counsel to both me and my father before my time. You watch over us like a watchful guardian, advising with your judgement. I declare you the Master of Ships. You shall command the royal fleet and continue to advise by my side."
It was a sight to see the strong battle worn man fumble for words, even though it was expected. Maybe his emotion was overwhelming him. "I- thank....I thank you, your grace. With all my heart, all....thank you. May the gods always shine above you. May they keep you in health and wealth, the Father shall defend you. The Mother may grant you many children."
"You are too kind, uncle." Rhaenys said.
Triston Massey, Lord of Stonedance, was named master of laws, Crispian Celtigar master of coin. To the lower lords and his new allies, he presented new honors. They had saved Orys for the last.
When he finally appeared before his king, Aegon got up and pulled him to his feet. In front of all, he embraced his lowborn brother and Orys knew, nothing would severe their bond.
As they broke away, Aegon proclaimed him, "My shield, my stalwart, my strong right hand."
