Chapter 74 - Imperial Wedding
While Ned Stark was being held by Queen Cersei, in Heaven's Reach, the members of House Martell has arrived within the Imperial Palace in preparation for the Wedding. Prince Doran Martell, who had been diagnosed with gout, had been completely healed by one of the Imperial healers several years ago.
Because of this, he could walk normally and didn't need a stick to walk.
The wedding bells echoed through the halls of the Imperial Palace. All throughout Imperial cities, the people were able to watch through the magic projectors created by dwarven craftsmen. As the last of the guests took their seats within the grand hall, the wedding began.
Maximus was standing at the front of the altar, dressed in ceremonial attire. By his side stood Alexander and one of the Priestess who worship's Mother Rhoyne. The Priestess was the one who would oversee the marriage as the worship of Mother Rhoyne had become the dominant religion within the Imperial Union over recent years.
Standing on the other side were the reformed dosh khaleen. The dosh Khaleen used to be the former wives of khals who had died. Now they were turned into prominent figures who are now leaders of the religion focused around the worship of the Great Stallion.
These two were the most dominant religion within the Imperial Union and both saw Maximus as a step below both the respective god and goddess and the chosen one. The hall fell silent as the huge double doors opened, revealing the entirety of the Imperium Harem standing in wait.
From front to back were Lilith, Merlin, Hela, Lyra, and then Arianne Martell.
The gathered nobles and dignitaries turned their heads as the doors fully opened, their gazes fixed upon the procession. Lilith, the first to enter, was draped in crimson silks embroidered with golden lining. Beside her, Merlin moved with her silver robes. Hela, clad in dark green lined with silver, walked with a presence that reminded all of her status as the Mistress of Death. Lyra followed, adorned in regal blue, the very image of noble serenity. Lastly, Arianne Martell, took slow, deliberate steps forward. Dressed in flowing orange and gold, colors of House Martell.
Gasps rippled through the hall as the women made their entrance. The Imperium Harem was no ordinary collection of consorts, each woman was a force unto herself, wielding power, influence, or in some cases, divine favor. Their very presence symbolized the unity of the Imperial Union. And now, with Arianne's inclusion, the bonds between Dorne and the Empire would be sealed.
As Arianne approached the altar, Maximus looked at the dress that was made with Dornish craftsmanship. This was no mere political marriage, it was a statement to the world that Dorne was no longer a kingdom on the fringes, but now an integral part of the Imperial Union.
Part of the agreement between that was made between Prince Doran and Maximus was that Dorne would become an autonomous territory ruled by House Martell as it had been for centuries. The Dornish were allowed to keep their culture and everything unique about them in exchange, they would also have to follow Imperial established laws and few other things.
Over 60% of the Dornish nobles agreed with the action taken by Prince Doran, claiming it to be securing Dorne's future and influence within Westeros. The other 40% claimed him to be bowing down to a foreign ruler and selling Dorn's independence.
Unfazed by the political unrest, Arianna ascended the steps towards the altar, where she would take the pledge required by a foreigner when they are marrying the emperor.
Arianne reached the top of the altar, standing before Maximus with her chin lifted. The grand hall remained silent as the Priestess of Mother Rhoyne raised a gilded staff, the symbol of her station, and began the sacred rite.
"Before the eyes of Mother Rhoyne, the Great Stallion, and the Empire itself, we bear witness to the union of Emperor Maximus and Princess Arianne Martell. This bond shall endure beyond war, beyond time, beyond death itself."
Arianne turned slightly as two reformed dosh khaleen stepped forward, one carrying a small, intricately carved basin of water from the Rhoyne, the other a bowl filled with sand from the vast Dothraki Sea.
"To marry the emperor is to become more than what you were," the Priestess stated, dipping her hand into the water and anointing Arianne's forehead. "You come from the rivers of the south, where the blood of Old Valyria once mingled with that of the Rhoynar. Today, that blood shall mix with the lifeblood of the Empire."
The dosh khaleen dipped her own fingers into the sand and traced a mark upon Arianne's hand. "You walk as a daughter of Dorne, but now you shall ride with the Empire as one of its own."
Arianne did not flinch. She had been prepared for this moment by her father, for the weight it carried. She turned to Maximus and spoke in a clear voice.
"I, Arianne of House Martell, daughter of Dorne, pledge myself to you, Emperor Maximus. I shall stand beside you as one of your Queens, bound in blood and duty, as one with the Imperial Union."
Maximus stepped forward, "And I, Maximus, Emperor of the Imperial Union, take you, Arianne Martell, as my wife and one of my Queens. You shall rule beside me, and through time your wisdom and fire will guide the people."
The Priestess brought forth a ceremonial dagger, its blade forged by both Valyrian and Rhoynish smiths, and sliced a shallow cut into Maximus' palm, then Arianne's. Their blood mingled as they clasped hands, sealing the marriage in the ancient traditions of both Valyria and the Rhoynar. A light surrounded their joined hands, magic infused into the rite, marking the divine recognition of their union.
The magic projectors displayed the sacred moment across the Imperial cities. The people bore witness to the rise of the Imperial Harem. Cheers erupted from the crowd, a thunderous declaration that the union had been sealed.
The title of Queen was one that was chosen for members of the Imperial Harem. The title of Empress was only reserved for the ruler of the Imperium, similar to the title of Empress. Lilith, Merlin, Hela, and Lyra were already known widely as the Queens and didn't need to do the blood rite.
They still went through the same thing as Arianne and as they were officially granted the title of Queen.
Once all the official stuff was over, the festivities started. This is where all the nobles and other dignitaries relaxed and started to enjoy the atmosphere of the Imperial Palace. Maximus had also met the wife of Olorin. He couldn't believe at first that the old man had gotten married, but when he thought about it, Olorin was man who had needs and such.
Alexander and Achilles also had their guests who were not their wives yet. They often flirted with a number of women but had not taken any wives yet. But seeing Maximus and Olorin get married, made them want to find somebody to settle down with.
Eonwe was in the middle, where he enjoyed his free life right now and didn't want to get settled down so soon. His lifespan was immense, and he didn't want to be held back because of commitment. Time passed, until night came around when the true fun began.
Luckily Maximus was a Demi-god now. If not, he probably wouldn't have enough energy for the amount of pleasure he would indulge in throughout the night.
———
As the news reached Westeros in the next two weeks, the continent was thrown in an uproar. The newly crowned King of the seven Kingdoms, Joffrey Baratheon had caused a scene within the small council room after hearing about Dorne succeeding from crown.
He called for war but was shot down by his mother Cersei who understood how to play the game of thrones and the power that the Imperial Union had. The small council backed her as well, claiming that they could not go to war with the Imperial Union yet with all of the things that were going on.
He reluctantly accepted and instead ordered for the execution of Lord Stark. Cersei agreed, wanting to put on a little show of intimidation to draw his daughters out of wherever they were hiding.
When the ravens arrived at Winterfell bearing news of Lord Stark's imprisonment and the disappearance of Sansa and Arya, Robb Stark felt the weight of the North suddenly fall upon his shoulders. He was young, but he was no fool, his father had always taught him to think before he acted, to never rush blindly into battle. But this was his father.
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The hall of Winterfell was filled with lords sworn to House Stark, gathered at Robb's summons. They had heard the rumors, the whispers from the south, Lord Eddard had been accused of treason, King Robert was dead, and Joffrey Baratheon sat the Iron Throne. Now, with the news that Joffrey intended to execute Lord Stark, there was no more room for hesitation.
"I will not sit idle while my father is butchered like a common criminal," Robb said, standing before his bannermen. "The Lannisters think the North will bend, that we will kneel like whipped dogs. But we are wolves, and wolves do not bow to lions."
Cheers and shouts of approval rang through the hall. The North had been wary of southern rule for generations, and now they had the perfect excuse to fight back. But Robb knew this was more than a simple act of rebellion, this was a game of power, and every move had to be played with precision.
A raven had also come from the Shadowhand, its message brief but clear: Your sisters are safe, but King's Landing is no place for them to remain for long. The game has begun, and your next move will decide the fate of the North.
It was then that Theon Greyjoy, standing beside Robb, suggested a bold move. "The Riverlands stand between us and the south. If we march, we must have their support."
Maester Luwin nodded. "Your grandfather, Lord Hoster Tully, will want vengeance for what has been done to Jon Arryn. But the Riverlands are vulnerable, caught between us and the Lannisters."
Robb turned to his mother, Catelyn, who was seated nearby, her face pale but composed. "We need Riverrun," he said. "We need our mother's house."
Catelyn met his gaze and nodded. "Then you must ride for war, my son. And may the old gods watch over you."
The call went out across the North, and banners were raised. The direwolf of House Stark was gathering, and the Lannisters would soon learn what it meant to provoke the North.
The news of Dorne's defection and the Imperial Union's power did not sit well with Lord Tywin Lannister. He read the reports in silence, his expression unreadable, but he was clearly frustrated.
"The boy wants war," he said, referring to Joffrey. "Foolish. A war with the Imperial Union would be suicide."
Kevan Lannister nodded. "Queen Cersei has kept him in check, but his temper will not hold. And now the North has raised its banners. The wolves mean to march."
Tywin steepled his fingers. "Then let them march. Let them spill blood for a dead man. We have bigger concerns."
Dorne's departure was a disaster for the realm. The loss of its armies was one thing, but the greater concern was its alignment with the Imperial Union. If the Dornish brought their strength into a southern war, the balance of power in Westeros would shift beyond repair.
"We will deal with the Starks first," Tywin said at last. "Then, we will prepare for what comes next."
Far to the south, Renly Baratheon read the same reports and saw a different opportunity. With Robert dead and Stannis claiming Dragonstone, the kingdom was fractured. If the North marched, if war consumed the realm, there would be a chance for him to make his own move.
But the Imperial Union... That was something else.
"They did not just take Dorne," Renly said as he stood on the ramparts of Storm's End. "They are reshaping the world."
Ser Loras Tyrell, standing beside him, scoffed. "Then let them shape it. We still have a throne to take."
Renly smiled, but in the back of his mind, he knew that the game was changing. If he wanted to be king, he could not just play against his brothers and the Lannisters. He would have to watch the Imperial Union, for they were not just players in the game... they were becoming the game itself.
Stannis read the news alongside the letter from Ned Stark in his chamber. He had long had a feeling that Joffrey was not Robert's true son, and now that Ned Stark had been imprisoned for discovering the truth. It was an outrage, but more than that, it was an opportunity.
"The throne is mine by right," Stannis declared to Ser Davos. "And I will take it."
Davos hesitated. "My lord, the Imperial Union is growing in strength. Their influence now reaches across the seas. We must tread carefully or try to convince them that our cause is just."
Stannis narrowed his eyes. "Carefully? I will not sit by while my throne is stolen. We must act, Davos. We must find allies before it is too late."
And so, he prepared for war.
Meanwhile, across the sea, in the city of Qarth, Jaehaerys Targaryen had just been spotted by a Shadowhand agent, within one of the residences belonging to the Thirteen of Qarth. Unlike other places, Qarth had Warlocks, which are powerful magic users with powerful abilities.
The Thirteen were the most powerful of the warlocks and had employed the most powerful warlocks under them. The ones sent to help out the Slave cities some years ago were not even the best of the best. This made spying on them significantly harder than other places.
They already had several close calls where Shadowhand agents almost had their cover blown, so now they had to play it safe. The report was made and sent back to Heaven's Reach alerting them where Jaehaerys was.