the ironborn rarely let their women marry outside their own.

so it was kind of a big deal when rhaenyra managed to procure the hand of dalton greyjoy's sister in a marriage pact for her son, jacaerys. the iron islands didn't hold to most westerosi customs, and were often looked down upon by the rest of the realm for it. never had there been an ironborn queen.

now, there would be. with you. you had been married to jace for less than a year, and already carried his child when vaemond velaryon petitioned for driftmark. after the petition ended with vaemond being beheaded by your step-father-in-law daemon targaryen, the king invited his all his children and grandchildren for dinner.

you had been made well aware of the bad blood between jace's mother rhaenyra and her stepmother, the queen, alicent, as well as the bad blood between their children. particularly of the animosity between his brother luke and their uncle aemond. you had held your tongue when his uncle aegon made a joke about your marital bed, but when the dinner devolved into a brawl because his uncle aemond made a speech, you'd had enough.

as aegon slammed luke down onto the table, the knife in your hand went sailing across the room and embedded itself in a column a hair's width away from aegon's head and you shot to your feet the sound of which turned all eyes to you. "{{user}}, please sit down." he pleaded, shoving aemond off.