"Tis okay Laenora!"
"My father! He is dead! He's dead!"
"Laenora my sweet love..."
Rhaenyra Targaryen's heart shattered inside her chest at the sight of her eldest child. The girl was inconsolable, screaming, sobbing into her sleeves covered by sand, gripping at the bars of her windows to keep herself upright. If Rhaenyra had ever felt pain, she knew in that moment her daughter was the physical embodiment of it. She so desperately wanted to reach out to her, to touch her, to cradle her, but she was terrified she'd bite her head off if she tried. Her poor Laenora.
"Do not feed me your pity mother! He was not my blood but yet he is still mine to mourn!"
"Daughter you must listen to me."
"I wish to be left alone mother! Can't you see?"
"Laenora Velaryon! It was not I who passed this news onto you! They are false tidings!"
"False tidings?"
"False." Daemon's voice beckoned as he stepped into his soon to be step daughter's chambers. "You are the eldest and you are heir... She deserves to know."
"Your father's death does not reign true." The mother whispered, finally clutching her daughter's cheek. "He felt he had let us down, it was his true right of passage to leave us. He and Ser Qarl have travelled across the narrow sea. He will reside there until he chooses a new path."
"My father has abandoned me?"
"And one day he shall return for you."
"B-But I saw his corpse!" The Velaryon denied, "He was truly dead!"
"But a servant my dear."
"What about my grandparents? They must know! They mourn for him mother."
"And they must continue to."
"Why? Why must we be so cruel?"
"Come my sweet love. You shall see."
"But I didn't get to say goodbye..."
Dragon fire shone a flame in the sky and Laenora Velaryon stood ablaze beneath it, clutching both Luke and Jace's arms in her own, Rhaena and Baela huddled either side of them as they bared witness to their parents remarrying unto one another.
She felt the sand beneath her bare feet and the tears still fresh upon her cheeks as she watched her mother slice her new father's lip with dragon glass, anointing him to her; Laenora had never felt so sick. Her Aunt Laena's corpse was barely cold, as was her father's bed, both Velaryon's had been cast to the wind like forgotten memories.
She watched the tears streak Baela's face and in an instant took her beneath her arm, cradling her to her chest as her newfound sibling. She too wanted to cry, she too wanted to mourn, but how could she do so unjustly to her siblings? To tell them the truth through her tears, to undo to them the same lie her mother had undone to her. It was reckless, thoughtless. How could her mother be so selfish as to murder their father in their eyes and remarry before them the same eve?
Laenora had never viewed her birth giver in a dimmer light.
"It's okay." She whispered as Rhaena came to rest beneath her other arm. The five children bound together in the marriage and blood of their parents. "It will all be okay."
But somehow as the blood dripped down the gape of her mother and father's jaws, and her eyes fell upon Aegon's blood on her own sleeve, she wondered if her truths were unjust after all.
And if she was destined to follow the same path as her mother in the end.
***
- 6 years follow -
"Well what is it you think it means Jacaerys?"
"I don't know."
Laenora huffed, parying her sword above her head, swiftly moving between stances before the roaring fire. "Come on, use that big brain of yours brother."
"The king is swimming?"
"Dārys aerēbas. The king is travelling."
"Know it all." The younger boy huffed as Joffrey began to giggle in the corner from where he lay reading, much to the joy of their older sister. "Come on Joff don't you side with her too!"
"He's reading! Do not distract him!" Laenora laughed, jabbing her brother in the ribs with the tip of her sword.
Jace let out a yelp of pain, quickly gripping the hilt of her weapon and pulling her to him. Joffrey only began to laugh harder all the while the Maester stood before the stone table, terribly displeased, much to their ignorance.
"Laenora are you distracting your brother?" Rhaenyra appeared before them, clutching her swollen belly ripe with yet her 7th child.
"Merely correcting him mother. His Valyrian is improving but he still sometimes finds himself at a stalemate."
"Not everyone can be as perfect as you Lae, besides the Maester can tell me of Jace's studies. You should be focusing on your own."
"And that I am."
"Swordsmanship is not a study."
"Tis an elective mother. One that I am proud to say I'm excelling at."
"Dranyot..." Jacaerys mumbled, "The end."
"The mouth." Rhaenyra was the one to correct him this time.
"Come on Jace you knew that!" He cursed himself
"Perhaps that is enough for today?"
"No I want to keep going!"
"I don't expect you to learn high Valyrian in a day Jace."
"A king should honour the traditions of his forebears."
"Then it is luck that I shall be queen instead. You will only be king upon my death. Hobrenka mittys." The heir poked her kin's broad chest, malice spewing in her words.
"Your death can be arranged if you call me a fool again."
"I called you a fucking fool actually."
"Mother!"
"Jacaerys unless you're planning to depose your own mother and sister you'll have plenty of time to study. Now come along children, we must ready ourselves for our journey."
Silently, Jacaerys laid his studies to rest and took Joffrey's hand leading him away to the earnest warmth of his chamber, all the while Rhaenyra lead her daughter down a darkened hall to her own.
"I do not wish to return to kingslanding mother." The brown eyed child admitted, "Not whilst those Hightower vultures are preying over Grandfather's throne."
"We must protect your brother's right to his seat upon Driftmark. Whilst Corlys Velaryon is unaccounted for his heir is being contested. And if we do not abide by those vulture's rules then Jace could very well be unseated."
"They will find the sea snake, and when they do he will command Jace as his rightful heir. Tis what he has always wished."
"I wish I had the same hope as you my girl." Rhaenyra sighed.
Laenora could only grin upon her, "What is not hope but knowledge mother?"
***
"Luke come on!"
"You two are faster than me!"
The courtyard of the red keep was alive with the feet of men. Each of them either clad in their tunics or a suit of armour, fighting, surrounding by lords and ladies alike. Jacaerys and Laenora could remember it so clearly, the way it had been that way almost everyday when they were children. The way Jace used to put her on his shoulders despite her being the elder sibling, just so she could catch a glimpse of a sword; warm fuzzy memories floated back for the surface and the two siblings could hardly contain themselves.
"Quickly!" Jacaerys beamed, squeezing his sisters hand as he pulled her behind him, rushing down the stone steps.
"Laenora! Wait!"
"Come on!"
Swords clattered together sounding metallic shrieking across the air, piercing their ears. But despite that Jace was practically vibrating with excitement, pulling his sister into his arms ever so happily as they witnessed twin brothers battle. Ser Arryk and Ser Erryk.
"Lucerys!"
The spare suddenly sprang back on the heels of his boots, dashing across the courtyard to a simple break in the stone wall. You'd think with the wonder he'd gazed upon it with that he'd discovered a new species of dragon, but no. It was simply a chip in some old stone.
"See I told you this would still be here! And you thought you could swing Criston's morning star." He grasped Luke's shoulder enthusiastically, "You almost took your own head off!"
Laenora smiled fondly upon her siblings, wishing nothing for them but to stay so young and full of life forever. Jacaerys had always been so optimistic, so head strong and brave in his approaches to any matter big or small, much like his father. Whilst Lucerys had always been more pessimistic but still the sweetest boy to ever grace the land, he wasn't much alike his father or his mother; he was his sister through and through, the only thing he did not hone was her courage. If the future Queen had had a say in the matter she would've kept the pair wrapped up in cotton wool for the rest of their earthly lives. Little did she know what would become of them.
"Laenora look at this one!"
The Velaryon girl felt the sword placed upon her palms before Jace had even finished his sentence. He stood before his kin with such excitement in his eyes that she knew there and then that she simply couldn't refuse him. And so, the princess weighed the blade in her hands like a bar of gold, tipping it from side to side, before raising it above her head, fierceness radiating from her every move in a way the seven kingdoms had only ever seen once before.
It was heavy in weight but still cut through the air with a flexibility she'd never witnessed before, the hilt wrapped in the finest leather and the base embedded with a blue sapphire, only making the allure of the weapon that much more drawing.
"It looks better in your hands sister." Jacaerys chuckled, picking up one of a similar size and aiming it at her.
In the eyes of the common people she was a princess gone mad, no princess or queen had ever even held a sword since Queen Visenya herself, none had had the right to. And oh how they stared upon her with judgement, wondering why her mother had allowed her to act like a boy, why her brothers had not corrected her; why she was heir.
Bastards. She knew what they all thought, but she was much less a girl than she had once been, and as a woman she simply couldn't bring herself to care. She was heir. She would be Queen. And one day she would make them swallow their judgement.
"What's the matter?" Jace's voice echoed in her ears and silently he lay his weapon to rest. Laenora's quickly followed, and both of their eyes became adorned by the sight of their younger brother.
Something was bothering Lucerys. They knew it to be true.
Lae had sensed his sadness since they'd climbed aboard their step fathers ship that dawn, witnessed the down trodden looks on his face, seen him chewing at his lip. She knew him better than he knew himself, just as he did her.
"Everyone is staring at us..."
"And what of it Luke? Things are no different than when we were children."
"Tis just..." He sighed, "No one would question you being Queen or you being Lord to Driftmark if we looked more like Ser Laenor Velaryon than Ser Harwin Strong."
"It doesn't matter what they think."
"I do not look like either of you Lucerys, does that make me any less your sister?"
"But you are my sister, there's no question-"
"Exactly. So there's no question of Jace's right to Driftmark, or mine to the iron throne. He is simply heir, as am I. And you are simply my brother."
"Tis the prince!" A lady's voice called in their wake, dashing across the crowded courtyard to a cluster of small folk. The clashing of metal upon metal resounded in their ears and once more Jacaerys was quick to grab the hand of his sister, who took the hand of Lucerys, dragging the pair of them to where all of the excitement was.
"Look!"
Before them stood a man grown beyond belief, his blonde hair tied back tightly at the back of his head, eyepatch covering his missing sense, a sword anointed by his right hand and a wooden shield in his left.
Her uncle Aemond.
Laenora couldn't believe how quickly he'd matured in their six years they'd spent apart, he stood a man of 1 and 8, but ripe as if he was ten years her elder, much less than only one. His face was much more sculpted, his features sharp and his jaw strong. A faint pink scar ran from his brow to his cheekbone, taunting the princess of their shared past. Aemond Targaryen was fiercer than ever. A dragon in its truest form.
In an instant Ser Criston swung his mace above his head, flying it across the space of their quarrel and into Aemond's shield. The piece of wood quickly splintered, falling apart in the Targaryen's grasp, but he paid no mind to it. Instead he coiled out of reach of the sworn shield, and pinned the tip of his sword to Criston's throat, winning once more.
"Well done my Prince. You'll be winning tourneys in no time."
"I don't give a shit about tourneys."
And then he saw her.
He saw her for the first time in a decade, watched her through his own eye like a plague itself, ceaselessly, but still when he spoke it was not her he addressed.
"Nephews. Have you come to train?" He didn't look away.
Jacaerys opened his mouth to talk, to speak, to say anything, but no words would come to him. The heir was speechless, his words stolen by Aemond the way Luke had once stolen his eye.
"Open the gates!"
Vaemond Velaryon. The man who was the living challenge to Jace's succession. He had finally arrived, taken by chariot behind his horses, his men hoisting the banners of his house, of their house. The Velaryon children watched with unease and sickness in their bellies.
"Niece." He finally called to her. His fingers tapped away at her shoulder and his hot breath fanned the back of her neck. "I almost didn't see you behind the pair of strongs."
"Hightower." She nodded
"You've grown."
"As have you uncle. I see you're still missing an eye. Haven't grown it back yet?"
"I've missed that wicked sense of humour niece. Care to train?"
"Not with you, no."
"Such a shame. I hear you're quite the swordsman on dragonstone." He smirked cockily
"And which lord whispers that to your mother for you to have heard?"
"Your newest father, in a long line of many it seems. He still sends ravens to my father."
"And I assume your mother intercepts them?"
"Laenora leave it." Jacaerys quipped, snatching her arm, but she was quick to throw him off. The girl was too engaged in her battle of words with their uncle to even notice her brothers were still there.
"He can barely see let alone read these days princess. You've missed much, that I can assure you of."
"I'd assumed the most."
"Come, let us walk together. I will fill you in." He offered
"Laenora." Jace seethed
"I shall not ask again."
The Targaryen prince held his arm out for her taking, ignoring the dismay of her brothers and the hatred in their eyes, only focusing on his niece. Just as he always had.
"Laenora."
That was all it took. For him to utter her name for the first time in what felt a millennium, and the princess took his arm, hardly looking back.
***
"A garden? This was never here before."
"It has been six long years. Things change. Flowers grow."
In a hidden alcove within the castle grounds, which had once only been home to empty barrels stood the most beautiful garden Laenora had ever seen. Ivy strung up the side of the castle, wrapping its way up the stone pillars and hanging in lay of the stained glass windows. Small pink flowers presented themselves on the greenest parts of the plant, drifting all the way down into the flower beds where petals of all shapes sizes and colours awaited her. It was a mosaic of life.
She was shocked Aemond had ever thought to take her there, especially given his disdain for her. She'd thought she'd never have a relationship with her uncle again, but it seemed the princess was sorely mistaken. More than sorely.
"Go on. What do you think of it then?"
She stayed quiet, her pale hand caressed the ivy, never having known such a sensation.
Lae turned away from him, barely hearing his words through her gaze of wonder. She leant down upon her knees, from flower bed to flower bed, sniffing every plant within her sights, desperate to fulfil her senses.
"You'd think you'd never seen a poppy before." Aemond pulled her to her feet, a knowing smile upon his poised lips.
"We don't have many flowers on Dragonstone. Only weeds." She admitted, "I'd almost forgotten what they smelt like."
"Pick a couple. Mother will not miss them."
"I wish not to maim them."
"Well that makes a change."
"Aemond." She rolled her eyes, "Do not be bitter. You are only cursing yourself."
"Bitter?"
"For one it was not I who maimed you. And admittedly you deserved it."
"Is that so?" He quirked a brow.
Laenora chose not to answer her uncles query and instead headed for the stone steps at the end of the garden leading all the way up to the battlements where the guards waited, poised for any attack that may come. Aemond followed her without question, similar to how he once had when they were children. It hadn't mattered how much Laenora could do to him, to taunt him or to stand by as he bled out calling for her, he would've always followed her. And even grown he continued the pattern on.
"I may have lost an eye but I have gained a dragon." She quoted him, "Spoken yourself."
He gave her no words, but still his cold stare never left.
"How is that old brute anyway?"
"As fierce as ever."
"And still she hasn't gained you a bride yet? I'm shocked uncle."
"No one has caught my eyes."
"Eye."
He stared at her blankly for what felt like an eternity, studying the way she hid her laughter in the shoulder of her cloak before her too began to smile, wishing he could fight it with every cell in him.
She had changed so much since they were children. She had always been much more of an extrovert than he was but even standing before him as a woman he knew she was even more so now, she was confident yet calculated, and Aemond wished he could be the same. She was everything that he was not.
"No one has caught my eye." He
corrected himself, his amusement wearing off.
"Unlike your brother?"
He smirked, his elbows wresting upon stone. "Yes there isn't much he hasn't caught."
"How pleasant." Laenora cringed
"Helaena and he are trapped in a loveless marriage."
"Any marriage with your brother would be loveless. As would any with you."
"I shall ignore that for your own benefit."
"Tis your decision." She shrugged softly.
With a short glance over his shoulder at the waiting guards, Aemond wrapped an arm around the princess, pulling her with him much harsher than he had before but still somehow Laenora knew he meant no harm.
Her suspicions were only confirmed when his voice fell but to a whisper.
"Has your mother told you?"
"Told me?"
"The king. My father is in the hand of the stranger."
"I knew he was in bad health but-"
"Rotting away behind his own mask of death. My mother poises herself on a throne that isn't hers in his place."
"Your mother..."
It was then she realised. Everything fell into place all at once, exploding in her mind just like the doom. Alicent was moving for the kings throne and planned to remove Jacaerys from the line of succession. It would only be so long before she tried to usurp Laenora and then her mother too. That bitch. And to think Aemond was the one who inadvertently revealed her wrongs.
"Your mother is the one who puts my brother's succession of my Grandfather at risk. Are you aware of that?"
"What succession is there to be had? He is a bastard after all."
She felt her blood boil. "My brother is no bastard. He is mine own in blood."
"By the way of your mother's blood. Not your father's. You must know that."
"I have known no father except for that of Laenor Velaryon. I can only assume it is his blood which I harbor."
"Hair as black as night?" He chuckled menacingly.
Before Laenora even knew it Aemond's fingers had found the ends of her hair, grasping them, twirling them between his thumb and index finger as if it were his life's purpose. She swallowed, hard.
"You're the farthest from a Velaryon there is my dear princess. If I knew any better I'd say your mother fucked a Baratheon for you to grace this earth."
"I have Baratheon blood in my veins from my grandmother Rhaenys. As do my brothers."
"The belief you have in your own legitimacy is delusional."
Bells tolled in the distance and the pair instantly knew what that meant, the succession hearing was beginning and their time together was over. Laenora had no time to hold onto her hatred, but just enough to tell her mother.
Just as he always had Aemond had helped the heir further than he would ever be able to understand. His treacherous habits from childhood grew to adulthood, and whether he knew or not, he only seemed to serve his niece further.
"Take my hand Laenora," He spoke wistfully, "allow me to walk you to your own funeral."
She took it with a plagued smile, "Perhaps we'll be buried beside one another then?"