Baelon II Velaryon is the son of Rhaenyra Targaryen. Just like his mother he was a strong willed dragon rider. Built for the clouds and forged for fire. He was meant for greatness. But the legacy of his family weighed heavily on his shoulders.
Love...
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Driftmark
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Morning came quickly the next day. The atmosphere of his bedroom was different, darker and colder. The fireplace was put out, leaving a cold smoke.
Baelon didn't move an inch from his bed, staring up at the ceiling, his hair unruly and covering his scarred cheek. He wore a plain white shirt with the rest of him covered by his blankets.
His right sleeve was drenched in red, the wound had seeped through with blood, which had caked over. Baelon wasn't aware of the cut opening back up, the pain was nothing but a dull ache. The maesters gave him milk of the poppy last night, it was fading but the pain hadn't returned.
Suddenly the curtains of his room were ripped apart, the sunlight invading the room and disrupting his peace. "Get up." His mother orders, still dressed in her night dress. Her room was next to his, they shared an apartment.
"No." Baelon answers, his voice cracking, a side effect of the medicine.
Rhaenyra sighs, making her way over, and sitting down at the edge of the bed. "My love, please." Rhaenyra softly begs, placing a hand on his blanket-covered leg.
"Not today mother." Baelon states, turning his head away from his mother, and exposing his cheek.
Rhaenyra sighs, tracing his scar with her eyes. "I'm getting ready Baelon, I expect you to do the same." Rhaenyra states, standing and moving past his bed.
....
The past two days were hell for Baelon and his siblings. Thankfully Aemond and his family were gone. The young Targaryens leaving on their dragons. Alicent didn't want to be around for another funeral, not after what happened to Aemond. It was probably the best, with less tension.
But Baelon didn't want to be in another funeral either, he would rather sail in a boat with Alicent.
The funeral for Leanor wasn't as memorable and grand as Laena's, not everyone favored the male, especially when everyone was aware of his sexual preferences.
Baelon was a wreck, his eyes rimmed red, his lips chapped. He loved Leanor, even if they weren't close. And most of all he couldn't stand being side by side with Vaemond, who continually sneered at him.
At the age of ten, he took his first sip of wine which then turned into a whole bottle.
