@stormbcrn said: "you look radiant."
dragons may have fire for their radiance, but lannisters have their gold. and whatever name myrcella bears, she is her mother's blood as well: the golden pelt of a lion is hers much as any other beast's might be. in the torchlight she gleams with it, gold embroidery on crimson fabric, and flecks of real gold woven in besides. a necklace of gold and ruby at her throat, and ruby-tipped pins in the heavy gold of her hair.
the dragons have again returned, and again a lion stands beside them. she wonders what the lions of the past would think of that, yet thought of their approval doesn't linger long. she does not need it. whether or not they would like or dislike, she stands atop a victory she did not have to die for: a place in the dragon queen's new court, born from the ruin of the reign that came before it.
"my thanks, your grace," she says, the proper words dancing on a smile as she links her arm with dany's. "but it is you who shines the brightest tonight, as should be."
tonight daenerys takes the throne before all of westeros, symbolic ascension to showcase the victory already won. for myrcella it has been a labyrinth of secret and strategy, ensuring those who come will not try to spark some new rebellion, pull at some thread of history in seeking to unravel it.
"every house is here and assembled. prince doran of dorne sent his daughter arianne in his stead, and the tyrells of the reach are here in full force. like as not they will try to seek a marriage agreement, or a spot for their daughter in your household before the night is through. we have people all throughout the crowd to...keep an eye upon proceedings there. but i doubt very much we shall see anything of note tonight."
the noise begins to grow as they approach the throne room, the hum of many voices speaking all at once, the sudden breaking-through of laughter. like as not there will be no violence here, and yet she knows they have all come to test daenerys, to see what she is made of. it is from this night that any new plans are sure to spring. a battle they cannot win with targaryen dragons but might with a lion's claws: hidden, for now, until they are needed.
"have i forgotten anything you wish to know?" she asks, pausing as they approach the last turn toward the iron throne, toward whatever future now awaits. "are you ready?"
















