Chapter 147 Wedding, Becoming King and Dragon egg

On the vast beach, under Daenerys's request, a solemn wedding was held according to the ancient customs of Valyria. Tradition dictated that only blood relatives could witness the ceremony—except for the officiant. Since neither Gavin nor Daenerys had surviving kin, only three were present.

Qyburn stood solemnly, holding a bright red tray with a carefully prepared obsidian dagger resting atop it. In a long, ancient chant, he recited the old Valyrian verses. His voice floated in the sea breeze, as though echoing across the ages.

Gavin and Daenerys faced each other, adorned in exquisite red and white linen robes.

First, they each gently cut their lips with the sharp obsidian blade. Bright crimson blood welled up, and they tenderly smeared it across each other's foreheads—binding their bodies and souls to one another. Then, without hesitation, they sliced their palms and clasped hands tightly. Their blood mingled, dripping into a delicate wine glass. Together, they drank the blood-mixed wine, symbolizing the merging of their fates.

Setting the glass aside, Daenerys gazed into Gavin's eyes with deep affection. Thousands of unspoken words seemed to gather between them. Unable to resist, they embraced and kissed passionately. In that moment, time itself seemed to freeze; the world faded away, leaving only the two of them.

Only when they reluctantly parted did Qyburn cease his chanting. He bowed low and announced respectfully,

"Your Majesties, it is time for the coronation."

Meanwhile, in the square before the Governor's Mansion, a towering wooden platform awaited the ceremony. People swarmed the area, buzzing with anticipation for the rare sight of a new king's crowning. Their eyes gleamed with excitement as they whispered eagerly about the three days of festivities ahead.

The retainers and officers of House Bellerys stood stiff and solemn, while envoys from distant lands lined either side of the platform, each concealing their own thoughts.

Suddenly, a deafening roar split the skies.

"Hissss!"

The golden-scaled dragon, Syndor, thundered overhead like a living stormcloud, causing the crowd to gasp and shrink back in awe. Trumpeters immediately lifted their horns, sending a resonant blare across the square.

A contingent of soldiers in gleaming armor marched sharply through the sea of onlookers, forming a corridor with their steadfast bodies.

Through this path, Gavin and Daenerys advanced slowly toward the stage.

As they mounted the platform, Syndor landed gracefully behind them, his immense form casting a majestic shadow. Under the sun's rays, his scales glimmered like molten gold.

Brienne, clad in full ceremonial armor, approached and presented a crown wrought of dragon bone and gemstones.

Daenerys took the crown in her hands, her voice ringing out clearly across the square:

"I am Daenerys Targaryen, Stormborn, Breaker of Chains, Mother of Dragons, the Unburnt, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Ruler of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm!Today, we stand together to witness the birth of a king!"

She raised the crown high, as if lifting the hopes of the world itself.

Turning to Gavin, Daenerys placed the crown upon his head and declared:

"I name Gavin Bellerys, dragon-blooded heir of ancient Valyria, King of the Narrow Sea, Lord of the Stepstones, and Lord of Lys!"

The crowd erupted in thunderous cheers.

"Long live King Gavin!""Long live the Dragon King!"

Above them, Syndor roared again, releasing a torrent of flames into the sky in a dazzling display of tribute.

The coronation faded into a grand celebration. Long tables groaned under mountains of rich foods, with servants hurrying to refill dishes as people feasted and reveled.

Inside the Governor's Mansion, the banquet raged with equal fervor.

Gavin and Daenerys sat upon their thrones, radiant and resplendent.

One by one, governors, commanders, and officials knelt before them, swearing fealty and receiving rewards.

Gavin, taking the opportunity, formally appointed three loyal ministers: Hassan, his earliest follower, as Master of Ships and Fleet Commander; the clever Qyburn as Grand Maester and Chief of Intelligence; and steady Boris as Master of Coin.

Their titles formalized, Gavin ensured that even if he and Daenerys were absent, the kingdom would be governed by their trusted council through a system of votes.

At this stage, Gavin kept all true power concentrated in his hands and refrained from appointing a Hand of the King.

Following the honors, Gavin met with envoys from the four Free Cities. After polite exchanges of congratulations and gifts from Volantis, Myr, and Tyrosh, Gavin finally welcomed the corpulent figure of Illyrio Mopatis, Governor of Pentos.

Illyrio approached with heavy steps, bowing low.

"Your Majesty Gavin, Queen Daenerys," he intoned silkily,"I offer my sincerest congratulations on your union and your crowning. May your reign be long and prosperous."

At a signal, his attendants brought forth a finely crafted box. Illyrio personally opened it to reveal three magnificent dragon eggs, glistening with ancient power.

"These dragon egg fossils," Illyrio said smoothly,"hail from the shadowed lands beyond Asshai. Though fossilized for thousands of years, they remain wondrous to behold."

Gavin's smile was polite, though he sneered inwardly. Varys's handiwork, he thought grimly. And yet he pretends they were found in the distant East. Both Gavin and Daenerys already knew the hidden game behind this gift.

"Thank you, Governor Illyrio," Gavin said warmly, exchanging a glance with Daenerys."We hope you enjoy the celebrations."

With more bows and pleasantries, Illyrio withdrew.

As night fell and stars pricked the velvet sky, the festivities grew even livelier. Merchants, nobles, and commoners alike flooded the square, bringing gifts and praise.

Amid the celebration, Gavin slipped away, using Daenerys's fascination with the dragon eggs as cover. He made his way quietly through the shadowed corridors to a secluded courtyard—where he found Margaery sitting alone on a stone bench, her expression clouded.

"I'm sorry," Gavin said softly from behind her,"I couldn't look after you today."

Startled, Margaery turned to him, her voice low.

"Gavin... You should be at the feast."

"I was worried," he admitted, moving to sit beside her."I had to see you."

Margaery shook her head, forcing a smile.

"It's fine. I knew what to expect when I came. Besides, as a Tyrell, I couldn't appear too openly—my family still answers to Robert."

Gavin said nothing. Instead, he pulled her gently into his arms, whispering against her hair:

"I promise you. One day, I'll give you a wedding grander than any ever seen."

Margaery pressed closer, murmuring,

"I believe you, Gavin. But today... it still hurts. I only wish to stand beside you as your queen."

Gavin kissed her forehead tenderly.

"You will. I swear it."

Margaery looked up at him, her voice small but steady.

"I should return to Highgarden soon. I've stayed too long already."

"Then after the celebrations," Gavin promised with a smile,"I'll take you back myself. It's been too long since I saw the Reach."

Under the moon's gentle light, they kissed, their sorrow and longing melting together.

Later, Gavin quietly returned to the banquet.

Daenerys leaned into him immediately, her voice low:

"You found her?"

"Yes," Gavin replied with a sheepish smile."It was nothing serious."

Daenerys nodded, her expression unreadable.

"Good. I'm tired, Gavin. Let's go."

He agreed, made arrangements with the servants, and left the banquet hand-in-hand with Daenerys.

Back in their chambers, the Blood Dragon Guard placed the dragon egg box reverently before them.

Gavin moved to open it, curiosity gnawing at him.

Daenerys, watching him, asked:

"Can they hatch?"

"Let's find out," Gavin murmured.

He picked up the egg destined to become Drogon. Immediately, a frown creased his brow. It felt... dead. No magic pulsed through it, no life stirred. The other two eggs were the same—fossils, not living seeds.

Strange... he thought. Did my arrival change this?

The original show's Drogon brothers were unnaturally fast-growing. Something had always been odd.

As Gavin pondered, Daenerys approached, nestling against him.

"Is something wrong?" she whispered.

He shook his head and kissed her hair.

"I'm not sure yet. We'll find out when we visit the dragon lairs."

For now, he set aside his worries. His gaze darkened with affection as he looked down at Daenerys—who blushed under his intense stare.

Without another word, Gavin swept her into his arms and strode toward their bed, the night wrapping them both in its embrace.