Hugh Hammer (ASOIF/SI)

 The Septon said the words over their bound hands, "you are now

 one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever," and she felt a little

 shiver pass through her, the cold she convinced herself, it was the

 cold, for outside it was snowing again, and heavily, with great clouds

 of snowfalkes being driven almost horizontally by a raging wind.

 She was marrying Prince Hugh in the Sept in the Red Keep, the

 Great Sept was no more, and the truly atrocious weather of these

 last few days making travel, even within the city, treacherous at best,

 impossible at worst.

 Prince Hugh's cloak felt heavy around her shoulders, but she was

 glad of its fur lined warmth, her dress, though woollen was still more

 a concession to fashion than warmth, despite her pleas to her

 mother for a more substantial garment.

 Her mother had been adamant though, saying, "you will not go to

 your husband looking like a Septa!" And that had been the end of

 that, and she had been forced to endure the giggling torments of her

 sisters afterwards. Neither Cassandra or Ellyn were much disposed

 to be kind to her in the last few days, since the announcement of her

 betrothal and wedding to Prince Hugh Targaryen.

 The ridiculous, and obviously forged documents that the former

 Hand Lord Ormund Hightower had produced were totally discounted,

 and none dared to question the status of the man who she stood

 beside in the Sept of the Red Keep as her husband.

 For whom would be stupid enough to gainsay the new Lord Regent

 of the Seven Kingdoms, Prince Hugh Targaryen? Who had crushed

 the attempted treason of Lord Hightower and his cohorts with hot

 dragonfire and cold steel. With the help of Lord Cregan Stark and his

 men Pricen Hugh had rooted out traitors and all those who sought to

 exploit his family. Her family now, as she was married into the Royal

Family, her children would have the name Targaryen, and she was

 one now also.

 And her husband would not stint at protecting his family, of that she

 was more than certain, for had she not watched along with all of the

 surviving court, as Prince Hugh had impaled every surviving traitor

 he could find. He had started with Lord Ormund Hightower and

 worked his way on down, any and all who had plotted with Lord

 Ormund and who had survived were placed upon stakes atop the

 walls of the Red Keep. Lord Urwin Peake had made a particular

 spectacle of himself - wailing, and screaming and explosively soiling

 himself as he was hoisted onto his stake. The inclement weather

 meant that few if any would linger beyond a day on their spikes, and

 by the end of it all she, along with most of the court, were frankly

 terrified. More than a handful had either been sick or had passed out

 where they stood as the terrible toll of impalements went on, snow

 beginning to fall fitfully by the end.

 And then, barely an hour after she had witnessed the final traitor,

 flailing and begging for mercy be hauled and placed atop the last

 stake, prince Hugh had visited them, and her mother had informed

 her that she was to be wed to the Prince in scarce a weeks' time.

 She had suffered nightmares that night, terrible, horrible visions of

 impaled men and women, all screaming and pleading for their lives,

 a handful shouting and laughing at her, cackling that this would be

 her fate also.

 And that very next morning Prince Hugh had arrived after she had

 broken her fast, with an invite to accompany him to the Dragonpit,

 which of course she could not refuse. The day was cold and blustery,

 with the odd shower of sleet falling as they had ridden to the

 Dragonpit, once inside the heat of the great beasts was sweltering,

 Prince Hugh stripping off his coat to just leave his silk shirt on. His

 dragon Vermithor was brought out to him, the great beast shuffling

 over gracelessly to sniff at his rider, and then at her.

She was terrified but Prince Hugh had laughed after Vermithior had

 given her a few close sniffs, "he likes you, of that you can be sure!"

 "How, how can you tell?" she had asked, her voice almost breaking

 with her fear.

 "He has not eaten you," the Prince replied deadpan, before he burst

 into laughter at the obvious terror on her face.

 "I jest my lady, I jest! Vermithor is a big baby, think of him as a large,

 scaley kitten and you won't be far wrong! Here!" he gestured to her,

 "scratch him here, he likes that…"

 Despite being almost overcome with fear she did as Prince Hugh

 bid, reaching up to scratch the spot indicated, at the back of the

 dragon's head. The beast moved his head into her actions, and a

 rumbling began to issue from the beast, she snatched her hand back

 like it had been burned.

 "No, don't stop, that's him purring… he likes that," Prince Hugh

 stated, as Vermithor moved his head to look back at her, she swore

 with a question in his lizard eyes, asking why she had stopped.

 She resumed rubbing the scales, the warmth of the dragon just shy

 of uncomfortable to her hands, as it started rumbling again, looking

 around she noticed that several other, smaller dragons were making

 their way towards them. She turned her head quickly to Prince Hugh,

 who just smiled and waited for the nearest of the dragons to nose its

 head towards him, he began rubbing the dragon in the same spot as

 she was doing with Vermithor.

 Vermithor suddenly reared up its head, nearly causing her to stumble

 and fall, and it let out a low, but still threatening growl, two to the

 smaller dragons retreating, but not before they had hissed in obvious

 displeasure at Vermithor, who ignored them.

 "Oh would you shut up Vermithor, my wife to be is perfectly able to

 give you head rubs just as good as me, and poor Shrykos here has

no rider, and she misses me, yes she does!" Hugh made baby

 noises at the small female dragon, who preened under his attention,

 while Vermithor gave several snorts of annoyance, before he

 lowered his head for her to scratch again.

 Every day after that she accompanied Prince Hugh to the Dragonpit,

 like the first with appropriate chaperones of course, to acquaint her

 with the beasts, some were friendly, others mostly ignored her, but

 the female Shrykos seemed to actively dislike her, never letting her

 pet her, nor even come close.

 Hugh laughed at this and ascribed it to 'female jealously' and did

 nothing more about it, but she took care to stay away from Shrykos.

 Vermithor seemed to dislike the small female dragon also, so her

 appreciation of Hugh's mount went up in her estimation.

 Everyday Prince Hugh would also visit with them on other occasions,

 obviously trying to get to know her before they were wed, and if it

 was not for the antics of her elder sisters, she would have enjoyed

 spending time with Prince Hugh.

 For in the days in the lead up to her wedding her sisters had been

 horrid to her, barely even speaking to her, and if they did it was only

 to say cruel and nasty things or make sly innuendos when Prince

 Hugh was in earshot. Her mother had intervened on more than one

 occasion, reminding Cassandra and Ellyn that their sister would

 soon be a Princess and that was it really wise to be so horrible to

 her?

 But it seemed to have no effect, her sisters continued to be vile to

 her, until she had to absent herself from them for most of the day.

 Even on the morning of the wedding they had refused to participate

 in dressing her, a normal duty of sisters to each other before one of

 them wed.

 Her mother merely sighed and whispered in her ear that she was

 sorry and that her sisters were being monumentally stupid about all

 of this. That did not reassure her in the least, her mother should

have scolded them more than she did, and she knew that if she was

 acting like they were her mother would have not been as easy on

 her.

 But all that was really in the past now, she was a married woman,

 and a Princess of House Targaryen, though she felt no different in

 truth, she knew she was different now.

 No matter who Cassandra or Ellyn married, so long as it was not

 King Aegon, she was now superior in status and precedence to

 them, and that made her feel warm and happy inside. No longer was

 she the youngest daughter and thus the last in line for everything,

 she was a married woman, and thus superior to them, at least until

 they wed. But she had wed a Prince, and thus she was of greater

 status than either of her idiotic sisters from now on. And once she

 birthed children her status would increase even further, as her

 children would be Princes and Princesses, whereas her sisters'

 children would only ever be Lords and Ladies.

 The Septon had ceremoniously unbound their hands and the

 ceremony was over, the crowd clapping politely as they descended

 from between the alters of the Father and the Mother. King Aegon

 looked happy, he had been asked by her mother to give her away

 and he had accepted, his betrothed Princess Jaehaera looked to be

 ecstatic at what she had witnessed. Lord Addam Velaryon, the newly

 elevated Lord of Tides, closely escorted by his betrothed Cerelle

 Lannister and her mother, looked less than pleased, but he was

 doing his best to keep a smile on his face.

 Her mother looked equally pleased and sad, sniffing away some

 tears and wiping her eyes with a convenient handkerchief, she

 embraced her and gushed at how beautiful she looked. Her sisters

 had smiles plastered on their faces, but their joy was false and

 hollow, both of their blue eyes as cold as the skies were when the

 winter clouds cleared.

 And as they curtsied to her for the first time and addressed her as

 'your grace' she thrilled inside, knowing that she had beaten both of

them, she had won, all those silly games that they had played as

 children about who they would marry were now over. And she had

 won, she had won decisively, and it pleased her no end.

 They milled about for a while, greeting, and chatting easily with

 everyone, before they were asked to make their way to the Great

 Hall for the wedding feast. Thankfully Hugh's cloak was warm as

 they braved the driving, howling snow, equally thankful was the fact

 that the Great Hall was close enough to the Red Keeps Sept.

 Once inside the Great Hall, where great metal braziers had been set

 out, filled with firewood and blazing with warmth, her chilled bones

 rapidly heated up, and they and their guests took their places. Hugh

 was seated at the right hand of the King as was his right, both as

 Regent and as the groom, she was seated immediately to Hugh's

 right again.

 A feast of seven courses was laid on, with singing and dancing to

 accompany the meal as entertainment, and as they were served

 their first course Hugh took up a pitcher of wine and poured some

 into her cup.

 "Drink, its good stuff, my personal favourite wine," he commanded,

 and so she lifted the goblet and took a sip, not bad she had to admit,

 if a little rough, for she was not used to un-watered wine if she was

 honest.

 The first course was served as she sipped at the wine, Hugh

 engaging her in conversation, he spoke of various things, nothing of

 too much import, and if she was honest she thought he was making

 conversation for the sake of making conversation.

 The Hand of the King, Lord Tyland Lannister was seated on the

 other side of the King from her, hooded and veiled as was his wont,

 and drinking soup. His tortures had involved the removal of all his

 teeth so he could no longer really eat normal fare, soups and

 mashes being all he could eat now. The man scared her, she had

half glimpsed his face behind his veil and it gave her nightmares,

 how could anyone bare to look upon him at all?

 Beside the Hand of the King was Lord Larys Strong, who she did not

 like at all, he, he gave her, well, the creeps if she was honest, he had

 a way of looking at you that seemed to strip you of your clothes. And

 it frightened her, for his gaze was too much upon her for her tastes,

 though he did also favour her sisters with similar gazes, that she

 would have minded before, but not so much now.

 She idly wondered if her mother would consent if Lord Strong

 pressed a suit on either of her sisters? Most likely her mother would

 accept she reasoned, Lord Strong was a powerful Lord, Master of

 Whispers and the Lord of the great, semi ruined Harenhal in the

 Riverlands. He was the last of his line, so inheritance was secured

 for the eldest child he fathered, something her mother would no

 doubt take into consideration.

 And thinking of her mother she remembered a conversation that she

 had never expected to have, or at least expected but dreaded.

 It had been a day after her betrothal had been announced to the

 court when her mother had sat her down in the room that they

 normally sewed in, just her and her mother, and a merry fire burning

 to ward off the cold.

 "You are about to be married….and my youngest first… life is

 strange sometimes, your father, he, he would be very proud of you

 right now…"

 Deciding that it would cost her little she had replied, "father was

 burnt alive by dragonfire from Prince Hugh's dragon, I doubt it. I

 mean I doubt he would be proud of me; I mean…."

 "Ah girl, you have no idea….." her mother sighed, and she was

 certain she saw a tear glisten in the corner of her mother's eyes.

 "Your father, for all his faults, was a good man, a noble man, and no

 matter what, he was proud of all his daughters, his 'four storms'. And

he would be proud of you no matter what, marrying into royalty no

 less."

 She remained unconvinced, but said nothing in reply, waiting for her

 mother to continue.

 "You are a maid flowered and soon to be a woman married, it, it is

 time that you learned for what happens between and man and wife,

 both on their wedding night and through many nights afterwards."

 And her mother had proceeded to tell her, with the aid of a small

 book that she produced from the folds of her gown, which

 had….illustrations of the things her mother was talking about.

 Shocking things, strange things, things that made her face flush red

 and a wetness build between her legs.

 But her mother was very matter of fact about it all, not seeming to be

 one bit embarrassed, not like their Septa, who Cassandra and Ellyn

 had long seemed to delight in torturing with inappropriate questions

 about what happened on a wedding night between and man and his

 wife.

 Her mother had told her that there would likely be pain the first time,

 but that after that pain was very unlikely, in fact the opposite was

 true, and that she was as much a 'partner' in what happened

 between her and Hugh. It was up to her to tell Hugh, by words,

 gestures, and other means, what she liked and what she did not like

 when they joined, on that her mother was very firm. Her mother had

 also bidden her take the little book, and memorise some of it,

 especially some of the illustrations, pointing out which 'positions'

 were best, being especially insistent that the drawing with the

 woman astride the man was the best position for many reasons.

 Seeing her confusion at all of this her mother had reassured her that

 though it might not make any sense to her now, it would soon.

 Her day dreaming was broken by Prince Hugh whispering in her ear

 that as the meal was now over it was time for the dancing, and that

he would of course be taking the first dance with her. She murmured

 something in response, probably something inane, before Hugh took

 her hand and led her to the dance floor.

 The musicians played a 

song she had never heard before, a slim

 auburn-haired girl singing out the lyrics, a most strange choice for a

 wedding song, and for the first dance of the couple as man and wife.

 As they danced, slowly she let the words wash over her, and she

 angled her head up to catch Hugh's attention.

 "I have never heard this song before?"

 "That, that is because I wrote it for you, for, for this dance," Hugh

 replied, something chasing its way across his eyes, sadness, pain,

 utter, all-consuming loss.

 Why he should react so puzzled her, but the emotion he was feeling

 was powerful, terrible, she could feel it in the tension of his arms

 where the rested around her lower back, in his shoulders where her

 arms met around his back.

 "Well, I thank you Prince Hugh, it is a beautiful song," she finally

 replied, remembering her courtesies. But something continued to

 niggle at the back of her mind during the next dance, and during the

 several other dances where she danced with others apart from

 Hugh.

 When she decided that she had enough of dancing she returned to

 the top table, Hugh following a few minutes later, sitting beside her.

 He once again poured her some wine, which she drank rather

 quickly, the dancing having made her thirsty.

 "Who, who is this 

Yenifer Connloy that my sisters say they have

 overheard you comparing me to?"

 Hugh nearly jumped at her words, his eyes going wide, before they

 narrowed, he took a few deep breaths and then turned to face her,

"she was a girl I knew once, and yes, you do look remarkably like

 her."

 She digested this news, not really liking it, before saying, "and what

 of this Yenifer girl, where is she now?"

 "A lifetime and a universe away Floris, you have no worries there,

 even though you had no worries in the first place."

 "Hrmmm" she replied, not at all satisfied, and frankly a little bit

 annoyed.