The Bastard Queen

Beginnings

The festivities of the joust and other tourney games were moved inside the Red Keep. The guest were all merry and drunk, most congratulating those who had won their respective prizes.

All the stories and drunken recounts of the day were far more interesting than what I had witnessed. I suppose it was because I had only gotten to witness the list instead of the archery competition in which an exiled Prince from the Summer Isles had competed. The large group of men exchanging praises made me wish I had watched the three hour melee instead of just hearing about Thoros of Myr and his flaming sword. Maybe I just wished I hadn't been sat next Viserys and his wandering hands all day.

Rhaegar was making the rounds before everyone was seated, telling me which Lords to greet, which hands to shake, and whose asses to kiss. It was dull and I honestly couldn't tell who I was supposed to care about or why I should remember any of them.

He wanted me to act as though I had lived in King's Landing my whole life, and was raised for politics. But I wasn't.

Brynden never cared much for the subtle infighting of lords and ladies so he never taught me it. And I have never lived in a big castle, never had servants follow me around. I wasn't some highborn Princess who needed pampering and obeyed the rules to a t. No, I was the daughter of a foreigner, a bastard; lowborn enough to ride the lands muddied without care and because of Brynden, highborn enough for the common folk to sing me praises when I came through. I never needed to know any of those things and I don't think I'll ever care too much about them now.

The only person I'd ever cared to change how I spoke to them would always be Catelyn. She was a proper lady and I couldn't quite use my foul mouth around her. And it was out of respect as well, she's like a mother to me. I used to go to her for advice about boys and crushes, and I always asked her why Brynden wouldn't claim me. Her treatment of Jon had sent me into tantrums when I was younger; she loved me and I was baseborn, why could she not do the same for Jon?

I knew now, that just like everything else in this world, her treatment had nothing to do with our birthing status or who we were as people. Everything was about whom you were born to, who you fought for, and what flags you flew.

No matter how hard he tried, I'd never be a true dragon most everyone could tell that, though I doubted they'd say as much. Maybe that's why he's marrying me to some who'd probably kill me if I were a real dragon.

I guess that meant I'd never get to fly a Tully banner like I'd always dreamed of. Nor would I get a chance to fight alongside the wolves of winter. I'd be stuck being a broodmare in the desert to a man twice my senior, splendid.

The feast was grand; black beer and mead from the North, sweet and spiced wines from both the Arbor and Dorne, fish from the Sisters and Driftmark, various fowl and game, bread and fruits from the Reach, and blood oranges and lemon cakes from Dorne. Servants are bustling all around trying to maintain everyone's cups and goblets. I'd rather be one of them, unimportant and lost in the crowd.

The high table is packed with honeyed boar and other salted meats, grapes, berries, breads, and fine cheeses. But my appetite is as sour as the wine sent from Dorne; I know the grand announcement the King is about to make. I can at least enjoy the fact the Viserys is seated at the other end of the table instead of next to me. I'm sat on the left end, Daenerys and Rhaegar taking the middle, and Viserys on the right.

Rhaegar stands from his high seat, welcoming all the guests to his court and congratulating the victors and the competitors on their efforts for the champion's purse. Once the room has quieted enough he starts on the reasoning for the tourney.

"I figured we were all over do for a tourney, and I'm glad you decided to attend despite the outcome of the last one." He jested, receiving a few chuckles from more than tipsy Lords and Knights. "To state the obvious, I have a new Hand; Jon Arryn was a good man, I figured it'd be best to replace him with an honest one. To Eddard Stark, may you serve your station well." He paused in toast, northmen and riverlords alike called out in salute. "I bring you more good news. I have negotiated a new peace with Dorne, one that will end the skirmishes between its borders with that of the Reach and Stormlands. We'll be hosting a Royal Wedding within the year; my daughter is betrothed to Prince Oberyn, the Targaryens of King's Landing and the Martells of Sunspear will be friends again. Let us all welcome Sir Manfrey Martell to court to serve as proxy while we await the arrival of the infamous Red Viper."