"Say it."
"Her children..."
Laenora Velaryon tasted blood in her mouth in more ways than one that day. From chewing at the inside of her cheek, forcing herself into withdrawal, to make herself refrain from her actions, and then to the urge of spilling another's blood by the cold bite of her sword. She couldn't stop herself.
She watched the terrified eyes of the lords and ladies in the great hall. She saw the downtrodden looks on her mother's and siblings faces, and she saw the gaze of venom radiating from Daemon. She'd never felt so aligned with the rogue prince than in that moment. There and then, he was her step-father and she was his daughter.
Vaemond Velaryon was going to die.
She craved her great uncle's head, urged to see his blood splattered across the stone floor. She'd never felt an emotion like it. And so as his mouth moved to utter his final words, she grasped the hilt of her sword. Readying herself for what she must do.
"Are bastards!"
In an instant she'd pulled the weapon from its confinements and weaved her way by her siblings, all to get to him.
"And she... is... a whore!"
Before the girl was even able to strike, her sword had been stolen from her grasp, and the next thing she knew, her great uncle's head rolled across her boot.
"Unarm him!" Otto called
But Daemon was already finished.
"No need." He smirked
With a proud look upon his face he stopped before his step daughter, taking in the sight of her for a brief moment, before he handed her sword back to her. Laenora gave him the first genuine smile she had since she were a child, and so once he had walked away, with that same smile on her lips, she wiped her bloodied sword clean upon her golden dresses, smearing them with true Velaryon blood.
It was only once she'd hidden her sword away that she saw Aemond, staring from the far side of the room the way he always did. But something in his stare had changed, respect? Admiration perhaps? Like, even?
The feeling in the pit of Laenora's stomach became unsettled at the sight of him.
And that same feeling turned to an almost sickness, all at the sight of Aegon.
Smirking at her as callously as the day she was born.
***
"Princess Laenora. I'm sorry to interrupt, the King Viserys has requested your presence. Supper shall be served shortly."
"There is no need for apologies. Thank you kindly." She spoke of the servant girl, "You may leave."
The false Velaryon stared upon herself in her cracked chamber mirror that eve. Questioning each feature as if they were solely hers to question. She took note of her freshly braided hair, seeing the way it did her no favours in trying to hide what house she truly belonged to, and so she set it all free. The princess became shrouded by her own locks, covering her tan skin and sharp features, and she tried her best to pose as the Velaryon she intended to be.
"The Princess Laenora. Heir to the iron throne and the seven kingdoms." Ser Criston announced her presence in the beat of a heart, and even held her seat out for her as she sat before her trueborn family. She gave him a gentle smile, the same smile he'd remembered for so long, and bid him a thank you before he returned to his post, wondering.
It was only then the princess noticed just exactly who she was seated next to. To her right, sat Jacaerys with her step sister and his betrothed Baela, and to the far side of them, her younger brother Luke and his betrothed Rhaena. But to her left, sat Aegon, of all, beside him her Aunt Helaena, and at the far end of the table, Aemond. Criston had sat her between the dragon's jaws of her family. The blacks and the greens.
"Sister." Jacaerys beamed upon her.
Laenora had never seen him so much more himself than then. He sat proudly, his hand intertwined with Baela's lay atop of the table and a soft pink blush adorned his cheeks. He was truly happy, it was all the princess had ever wished for him.
"Brother." Lae gave him a teasing look, and his cheeks turned a deep red.
The sound of flowing water echoed in the heir's ears and she quickly turned to her left, seeing Aegon silent beside her, but pouring wine into her goblet, filling it almost to the brim.
He didn't say a word to her, except he nodded his head once he were finished, motioning for his niece to take a sip. She did so politely, without rebuttal.
"I had it imported from Dorne you see." He told her, almost as if they'd never been parted, "Explains the hints of spice."
"You have never even been to Dorne." Aemond spoke clearly, lifting his own cup to his lips. Aegon stared at the side of his uncaring face, grimly, before turning back to Laenora.
He poked the side of her hand, adorning a smug look upon his round face as his lips stretched themselves to talk, but it seemed his words were never meant to be.
"King Viserys of House Targaryen!"
Laenora had never seen her family stand so quickly for her Grandsire before, but once she was finally able to take a look upon him, really take a look, she understood why. Aemond had told her every word of the truth, Viserys was in the hand of the stranger.
"The first of his name. Protector of the Realm. Leader of the First Men, and the Andals, and the Roynar."
With a slight groan of pain by the old man, his guards placed him at the head of the table, right beside the roaring fireplace to keep his weakened body warm.
"My dear family." He spoke softly, "I am sorry to have kept you all waiting."
"Tis okay father." Rhaenyra took his hand
"How good it is to see you all tonight, together. Tis the first time I have seen all of us in the same room in many moons."
"It has been six long years grandfather."
"Laenora!" His eyes widened, not quite having noticed his granddaughter at almost the far end of the table. "My girl. Come forth."
"Viserys the girl has had a long day, she must be worn-" Alicent tried but there was no stopping the man, especially when it came to his favourite granddaughter.
"Nonsense! My granddaughter!"
With all of the families eyes upon her, the dark haired woman stood from her chair and walked around the table to her king, passing each of the greens as she did so. Aemond took note of the way she quickly brushed by him, quickening her pace for him and him only, but still feeling the sleeve of her dress stroke upon his shoulder. He watched the way she curtsied for his father and the way the old man's eyes lit up for her as they never had for him. It sent a chill through his bones.
As a child he'd always admired that she
could get that reaction from anyone in a room, especially himself, but as an adult he despised every molecule of the notion. Or so he thought.
"You are a grown woman before me." He told her through jagged teeth, grinning.
"Please you must take something for the pain." Alicent pleaded to his ignorance.
"No." He spoke firmly, never tearing his gaze from his grandchild, he was truly in awe of her. "Laenora?"
"Time has moved quickly grandfather."
"For both of us." He mumbled, his remaining hand enveloped hers. "Sit my girl."
"Tis an occasion for celebration it seems, my grandsons Luke and Jace will marry their cousins Baela and Rhaena further strengthening the bond between our houses. A toast to the young princes."
"It seems that although our house shall be strengthened that we are still divided..." His wife claimed to his former, "Viserys?"
"I will not be upon this earth much longer."
"Father."
"I do not wish to see you at war with one another. I wish for you to make peace with one another, my family. You must be tied... United once more."
The second son laughed softly into his drink. His father was a fool to ever think they'd be able to make amends, that a marriage, or something as simple as a supper would right their wrongs. He was truly a mad man. Laenora too laughed into her goblet, her eyes met his ever so briefly and he knew then, staring upon her, that he would always protect his family, even if it meant he were the one holding the knife.
Against her or for her.
"Tis why I propose a final betrothal..."
Helaena was the first to understand. She always had been, the girl was a dreamer after all, and she'd dreamt just as so the night before; she knew exactly what was to become of them. The only two unmarried at the table.
A wonderful grin became of the dazed girl's face. "Sister."
The princess sat still, confused for a moment, still drinking down her wine until the syllables on Helaena's tongue froze a coldness in her bones that felt like winter in the north. Sister. No longer her friend, no longer her confidant, no longer her favourite niece.
"Between my dearest Granddaughter Laenora and my second eldest son, Aemond."
The north froze over. "I would sooner marry Daeron."
Not a tongue uttered or soul whispered for what felt like an eternity amongst the Targaryens, there was only Laenora who finished her wine and proceeded to pour herself another cup, unbeknownst to the sad eyes of her relatives, and Aemond who's blue sapphire burned in his head.
The prince stared upon her, his lips agape and jaw stiff, frozen. How could this have happened? Of all, why her?
"A great idea your grace." Alicent nodded, grasping Viserys' rotten hand.
"Rhaenyra?"
The woman stared upon her eldest with sad eyes and grievance in her heart, and still, despite it all, she nodded, sentencing her only daughter to death. Or what felt like it. The guilt from her dying father was too overpowering, and Laenora knew it too well.
"Mother?" The girl spoke, her jaw agape just as Aemond's had been, "Mother what is happening?"
"You shall be wed soon my girl." The king declared, and that was when the heir finally felt her heart stop. It was no longer a joke. It was real. It was all real.
Aemond and Laenora.
Betrothal then marriage.
The heir to the iron throne, and her king.
No.