Chapter 39
-[ 90 AC]
The days after the great Westerosi fleet arrived in Ael'tharion, the Grand Capital, were filled with constant wonder. For the lords and ladies from Westeros, every hour brought something new and amazing. They stayed in rooms that felt alive, built right into the giant trees and glowing stone of the city. Soft lights came from the walls, and sweet, unknown smells filled the air. The food they ate was light and strange, tasting of pure freshness, very different from the rich meats and stews of their homeland.
They explored the city's winding paths, which glowed softly in the twilight. They heard crystal bells tinkling high in the trees and the melodic, flowing voices of the Silvanor people. Even the deep, distant calls of the Great Apes, which had once caused fear, now brought a feeling of awe and wonder. The air itself felt clean and alive, humming with a gentle, ever-present magic. The Westerosi often watched the Silvanor people, amazed by how calm and graceful they were, and how very young they looked, even those who were clearly ancient. It was a new world, a place of ancient power and unending beauty, slowly teaching the Westerosi what a truly old and magical civilization was like.
Then, the biggest day came. It was the wedding day for Prince Aerion Silvanor and Princess Viserra Targaryen. The whole city seemed to sparkle with extra magic and excitement.
The wedding was held in a very special place called the Heartwood Glade. This was a huge, open circle deep inside Ael'tharion, where the largest and oldest trees grew. The immense branches of these giant trees wove together high above, making a grand, natural roof. From this leafy roof hung glowing vines that shone down with a soft, dreamlike light onto the polished, green-colored stone floor. Tiny, clear crystal chimes hung from unseen threads, singing a gentle tune with every soft breath of wind. Their music mixed with the low, beautiful humming of the Silvanor choir. Sometimes, little sparkling lights could be seen flitting about, too quick to properly catch, as if tiny forest spirits had come to watch and bless the union. The air here felt sacred and full of the oldest magic.
First, the Silvanor procession began. Prince Aerion Silvanor, the groom, walked slowly and with great dignity to the middle of the glade. His silver hair seemed to catch every piece of the soft, magical light. His father, Emperor Kaelen, walked beside him. Kaelen looked calm and powerful, his eyes seeing everything. Behind them walked Aerion's brothers and sisters: Elaron, Aelia, Valerion, and Lorien. They all moved with a quiet grace. Though they had lived for many decades, their High Elf looks made them appear youthful and incredibly beautiful, fitting for a royal family older than any human kingdom. Tall, elegant Silvanor guards, wearing shimmering armor that seemed to shift colors, stood in perfect lines along the path, watching with quiet respect. The crowd of Silvanor people, with their glowing eyes, watched in silent reverence.
Then, a soft buzz went through the Westerosi guests as Princess Viserra Targaryen began her walk. She stepped onto a path made of glowing flowers that gently bloomed under her feet, forming a beautiful, living carpet. Her father, King Jaehaerys, strong and regal, walked on one side of her, and her mother, Queen Alysanne, graceful and kind, walked on the other. Viserra wore a magnificent gown made by Silvanor artists. It was of shimmering, moonlit fabric that flowed around her like liquid light. Her silver Targaryen hair was decorated with delicate, star-like flowers that pulsed with a soft glow. She looked breathtakingly beautiful, though her eyes were wide with a mix of wonder and the solemn weight of the moment.
Behind Princess Viserra followed the entire Targaryen royal family who had made the long and important journey to Ael'tharion. Prince Aemon, Princess Daella, and others of King Jaehaerys's children walked with dignified steps, some holding hands with their own children. Beside and behind them came a large group of their most trusted lords and ladies from all across Westeros. They were all dressed in their finest clothes, shining with gold and rich fabrics. Their faces showed a mix of awe and deep respect for the magic and grandeur of the Silvanor wedding. Their more familiar Westerosi clothes seemed very earthly next to the ethereal beauty of the Silvanor people.
They all reached the central platform. Emperor Kaelen Silvanor, with his deep wisdom, stepped forward to lead the marriage ceremony. His voice, calm and deep, filled the Heartwood Glade, speaking in the ancient, flowing language of his people. Though the Westerosi did not understand his words, they could feel the blessing, the welcome, and the very serious start to the wedding.
The ceremony was filled with ancient rituals that no one in Westeros had ever seen. Aerion and Viserra held their hands over pools of shimmering water, their faces reflected in the magical surface. Blessings were softly spoken in the melodic Silvanor language as tiny, glowing lights danced around the couple, sometimes even landing gently on their hair like blessings from the air itself. The whole glade seemed to hum with a strong feeling of magic and a sense of great destiny coming true. The Westerosi watched quietly, trying to understand, their eyes wide with constant wonder.
Finally, it was time for the vows, the most important part of the joining. Emperor Kaelen turned to Aerion first. Aerion looked at Viserra, his deep emerald eyes holding a look that was both ancient and full of love. He took her hands, his touch warm and steady. Then, he began to speak. He did not use the common language of Westeros, but the old, beautiful words of his own people, the words flowing like clear water over smooth stones.
"Sael'on, Animae, Kael'en unar eon'thal." Aerion's voice was clear and strong, filling the glade with its melodic sound.
He paused for a moment, his gaze never leaving Viserra's eyes, promising everything in that look.
"Per Luminar, Fath'nar Ael'doria. Cor'il meu, Rhian Animae, Eon'thal."
A quiet murmur went through the Westerosi guests. They did not know the words, but they felt the deep feeling and the solemn promise in Aerion's voice. Emperor Kaelen then spoke, his voice translated by a Silvanor speaker for the Westerosi to understand. He told them the deep meaning of Aerion's powerful vows:
"My son has sworn this to his bride: 'My soul, my very essence, I bind to yours, for all time. By the pure light and the destiny of Ael'tharion, our home. My heart, which is the path of my soul, is yours forevermore.'"
Queen Alysanne put a hand to her mouth, tears shining in her eyes, truly understanding the immense and eternal promise. King Jaehaerys nodded slowly, a deep respect for the Silvanor ways settling on his face. Such words were far grander and more lasting than any human oath they knew, showing the long lives and deep, magical bonds of the High Elves.
Now, Emperor Kaelen turned to Princess Viserra, his gaze kind and encouraging. It was her turn to speak her vows, in the way of her own people. Viserra took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling. She looked into Aerion's waiting eyes, her dark Targaryen gaze meeting his ancient emerald. Then she began, her voice clear and steady, speaking the familiar words of the Common Tongue of Westeros, words that had been said at countless weddings in her own land.
"I take thee, Aerion," Viserra began, her voice ringing softly in the magical glade, "for my husband. To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part."
Her vows, while simpler and shorter than Aerion's, were strong with human promise and love. A feeling of awe mixed with familiarity passed through the Westerosi guests. The two different vows, one ancient and eternal, the other human and true, met and joined in the heart of the glade.
As Viserra finished, Emperor Kaelen raised his hands. A powerful, unseen wave of magic seemed to flow through the Heartwood Glade. The glowing vines brightened, the crystal chimes sang louder, and the very air seemed to hum with approval. Kaelen's voice, now resonating with ancient power, boomed across the glade. "By the will of the Elder Spirits, and by the ancient laws of the Silvanar, and by the oaths you have freely given: I declare you, Aerion Silvanor and Viserra Targaryen, husband and wife, bound in soul and spirit!"
A gasp went through the Westerosi crowd, followed by cheers from both the Silvanor and human guests. Aerion gently pulled Viserra closer. He leaned down and kissed her softly, a long, tender kiss that sealed their union for all to see. Cheers erupted, louder this time, from both the High Elves and the Westerosi, a mix of their different joys blending together.
The formal ceremony was done. A great wave of movement began as the guests started to move from the sacred glade. A path of newly bloomed, sparkling flowers guided them towards the grand feast hall. This hall was even bigger and more stunning than the Throne Room, decorated with living lights that twisted and turned like magical ribbons, and lush plants that seemed to weep glowing dew. Long tables, made of polished, ancient wood, stretched far into the distance, laden with food and drink that seemed to shimmer with inner light.
The air in the feast hall was full of joy and music. Silvanor musicians played lively tunes, and soon, Westerosi bards began to play their own songs, teaching the elves new melodies. The feast began, a true joining of two cultures in celebration. The sounds of laughter and happy chatter filled the hall, marking the start of a new age, and the happy beginning for Aerion and Viserra.