A/N: Welcome to my latest story, The Seadragon's Roar. If you're new to my work, welcome and please do be sure to check out my other stuff, and if you're fasmiliar with my stuff then I hope you enjoy this one as well. Next three chapters chapters on my patreon— same username as here and link in bio.
_The beginning of the reign of Laenor Velaryon, the first of his name, is as disputed as every other thing we know about the King that countless dubbed the Builder, the Glorious, the Mighty, and countless more dubbed the Breaker, the Destroyer, and most damning, the Kinslayer. Did his reign begin when he crowned himself Lord of the Stepstones after seeing it abandoned by his relative, Daemon Targaryen, the Rogue Dragon? Did it begin when he finally rode through the gates of King's Landing at the head of the largest army in the Seven Kingdoms at the time? Did it begin with his first marriage? Or his second? Historians, Maesters, and Scholars of all dispositions debate and present good arguments in favour of any of these, but there is no debate as to when the Legend of the Greatest King of the Targaryen dynasty began. No dispute as to where, either. It all began in Harrenhal, One hundred and one years after Aegon the Dragon forged the seven Kingdoms into one. _
— Archmaester Galadriel Velaryon, "The Life and Times of Laenor the Valiant, Great, and Undoubtedly Extraordinary."
"You will wear the Seahorse and the colours of house Velaryon because that is the house to which you belong, and I will not hear anything to the contrary," Corlys pressed, and I felt the urge to sigh. Prideful men were the bane of good sense and reason, it seemed. I tossed an exasperated look in my mother's direction, and I could see the smile she choked down. A lot could be said about this new life— not the least of which being the indignity of shitting in a chamber pot of all things, but none of them could outweigh the joy my family brought me. Rhaenys, Laena, and even Corlys when he wasn't being stubborn as a bull.
"Sadly, you will hear it again. I cannot win if I am not seen as a Targaryen, father. The lords of the realm, they will mislike elevating one of their own above them. The only reason Aegon could hold the seven kingdoms was because he was not one of them. Like it or not, the Targaryens are seen as better, higher, superior. They will crown a Targaryen but they will not crown a Velaryon" I said, and if the oddness of my speech bothered either of my new parents, they said little of it. I had decided that I was nowhere near crafty or circumspect enough to hide my advantages, and so I leaned into them.
I was no smallfolk to be accused of witchcraft and Corlys Velaryon was prideful enough to believe without doubt that the union of his blood with that of Rhaenys had been enough to create a prodigy beyond compare, as Maester Alaric put it.
"They will crown you because every tradition, whether Andal or Rhyonar, or First Man places you ahead of Viserys in the line. They will not so easily threaten their own claims" He said.
"They—"
"Enough, Laenor. Are you so shamed of our family? Our history? That you seek to cast it aside for another?" He said, and now there was audible hurt in his voice. I had pushed too much, I feared. But I could not stop here. This was my chance. Win the Great Council, and no Dance of Dragons— no dying of the Dragons either.
"I am proud to be a Velaryon, and a Velaryon I will remain. The blood of the seahorse runs in my veins as surely as it runs through yours. What does a name matter when we share blood?"
"History will not remember blood, but it will remember names. And I will not be the man who bore a son who refused his own name. Not after everything I have sacrificed for this family".
"So it's about pride, then"
"Everything is about pride, Laenor. You must not be as intelligent as they say if you haven't learned that yet" He said, and to make sure the conversation was at an end, he walked away.
"At least let me speak for myself in the Council" I called out to his back. He didn't reply, but something told me I'd won that much at least.
"Go saddle and prepare Igneel, Laenor." Mother said, turning in my direction. She had remained silent all through the argument, still pretending to skulk at the decision we'd made not to press her claim in her own right. I knew her too well, though, and she was definitely playing it up to get Corlys to come back begging.
"Laena, I assume you will be flying with your brother. Go help him" She said next, turning to my sister when she felt I was not moving quickly enough for her tastes. Laena peeped in excitement and next thing I knew, I was being dragged out of the castle towards the stable set aside for my ever-growing Dragon.
—
In the end, we were reasonably late to the Great Council. Not so late that the event had begun, of course. But we had made the choice to send a statement. Corlys had come ahead a week earlier, his fleet heading to drop him off at Maidenpool from where he continued on with a retinue that was about two hundred strong. Us, we left much later than he did and ended up making it to the castle around two days after he did. The dragons made a show of their arrival.
Jaehaerys would not be attending the council and that meant the only other dragon here would be Caraxes, and at the risk of sounding prideful, Daemon's wyrm would not compare. For one, Meleys was beautiful and fast. Even with all the training Igneel and I had done— both when he was younger and even up till date— it was still taking all he had to keep up with her as we flew around Harrenhal, roaring all the while.
We did seven circuits as planned, and by the second, I could make out specs on the ground as people came out of Harren's folly to watch our arrival. This bit had been my idea. I had few advantages over Viserys so I had to show off every one that I could. One of them was that I rode a dragon while he did not. Sure, he had ridden Balerion itself, but considering he'd only ever flown through the skies once, then could he really call himself a dragon lord. When our dragons landed, Corlys was waiting and took mother into his arms, bestowing a chaste kiss onto her lips.
I turned aside, focused on helping Laena off Igneel's back. With how small we were, the saddle needed no alterations to keep the both of us comfortable all through the ride.
—
"Of the Great Lords, the only support I have been able to guarantee is that of Baratheon, Stark, and Manderly. Celtigar, Bar Emmon, Darklyn and the likes will fall in line if they know what is good for them, but there is too much that hangs in the balance, he said." I nodded, turning to the pineapple juice in my cup. It was a testament of Corlys' wealth. Pineapples weren't even native to Westeros, but the second I'd expressed my interest in them, he'd secured a consistent supply all the way from Tyrosh of all places.
"I'll still speak for myself" I said.
"I was never going to go back on that. Now more than ever it is necessary that you speak for yourself" he said, looking stricken by something.
"What bothers you, my heart?" Mother asked, instantly perceiving his change in mood.
"Laenor was right. The Lords of the realm seem to love me little and regard me even less. Lannister just about spat in my face and Tyrell has rejected every attempt at an audience. Tully speaks, leaning this way and that, but never committing. I would have assumed that my deeds would have won some measure of respect at the very least".
"They did. They just won you some jealousy as well. You made yourself, father. These men. These men outside were made by their birth. All that is special about them is the fact that they popped out of the right set of legs at the right time" I could see that the words had done some of the work in cheering him off. Faults or no, Corlys Velaryon was a pretty alright man at the end of the day. You just had to dig under mountains of pride.
"The earlier days were spent disqualifying some of the other claimants. Seara Targaryen's bastards, the fool who thought he could claim descent from the Old King himself, and the idiot that thought claiming to be Maegor's bastard would win him more than scorn and disdain. All that remains is yours and Viserys'." He said, speaking to me like I was his partner and co-conspirator rather than seven year old child.
"Good. So the speeches are tomorrow?"
"The law is on your side, the facts are on your side, tradition is on your side. Do me proud, Laenor."
—
"Our father was Baelor the Brave, our mother, Alyssa Targaryen herself. My brother's claim to the throne comes from that. Blood, and power. Jaehaerys himself disinherited Rhaenys' line when he passed her over to my father, Baelon. As Baelon's oldest son, what was his would rightfully fall to Viserys, not some spawn of the Seahorse. Also, the Old King is old. His heir must be a person prepared to accept the throne at any time from now. To grant that to a seven nameday old boy would be to doom the realm to a long regenthood. Now contrast that with Viserys, a man grown, rider to the Black Dread himself, and a father to a daughter, son soon to follow" with that, Daemon Targaryen took his seat. He was eloquent enough. At least what passes for eloquence in this world. But one thing he hadn't been was convincing. At least, I hoped he hadn't been. I for one sure wasn't convinced.
"And now we will have Laenor Velaryon who has elected to speak for his claim himself," The Archmaester said in a monotone voice as if all of this was far beneath him.
"Thank you Uncle" I said with a smile as I stepped forward to the middle of the gathering. Harrenhal was the largest castle in the realm and that was clear to see as the hall of a hundred hearths contained what had to be the entire nobility of the realm. Hundreds of Lords in a crowd that stretched as far as the eye could see. If I had to convince all of them, then that would have been near impossible. Good thing that the Great Lords decided how their lessers voted, then.
"My name is Laenor Velaryon, son of Rhaenys Targaryen, Grandson of Aemon Targaryen, Great Grandson of Jaehaerys Targaryen." I said when I stepped forward, and in a coordinated move, Igneel let out a roar right outside the castle. With his age, the roar did little but echo across the hall. No, it was Meleys' answering roar that felt like it made the ground itself shake.
"I claim the Iron throne, the throne of my GreatGrandfather by blood and the traditions of the andals, the first men, and the Valyrians. Aemon Targaryen was the first son and the heir to Jaehaerys before he was slain by the cowardly assassins of Myr, we all know this. The same way we all know that when he died, Jaehaerys chose Baelon as his heir to avoid muddying the succession. That went against the laws and traditions all over Westeros as Aemon had left a daughter behind but the situation was understandable with the context that war could have been on the Horizon with the free cities, and it was unclear whether the child in my mother's womb was a son or daughter. Now neither of those things are true, and Viserys Targaryen is no Baelon the Brave" I said, gesturing with my hands and projecting my voice so it could be heard all over the hall.
"I am here, the Grandson to the last heir, and we all know a daughter inherits before a brother in near all situations, and what is certain is that a Grandson inherits before a nephew. I am ahead of Viserys in the line of succession by every tradition known to Westeros. By Ryonar tradition, both my mother and sister would be ahead of me, but we are not Dornish. By the andal succession practiced throughout the south, the first male line has priority over all else, even where the only issue of the line is female. By First Men tradition, much the same is true. And while Daemon Targaryen can come here and claim we are no andals as we are the blood of the dragon, he would be ignoring the fact that Aegon the Dragon himself chose to submit House Targaryen to Andal law in matters of succession when he took an andal title in styling himself King and was blessed before Andal gods. House Targaryen has only once before deviated from andal succession since assuming the Iron throne. That was when Jaehaerys himself took the throne over his nieces Aerea and Rhaella, but even then it was recognised that he had the lesser claim and that circumstances were dire enough to necessitate his kingship."
"This body can not fail to note that Aerea was Jaehaerys' heir for most of his early reign. Now, I will contrast Jaehaerys' situation with that of present. The realm is at peace and has been so for multiple decades. The present king is strong and wise. So wise that he understood the need to call this council for the Lords of the Realm to make their will known. The rival claimant in this case is a Grandson rather than a daughter. I am no little girl hiding from the world. I ride Igneel, the fastest growing dragon the world has ever seen. I am the son of Rhaenys, the rider of Meleys, and a scion of the houses Targaryen, Velaryon, and Baratheon. I will make a great king, a wise king, and if you won't be so hopeful, then at the very least you can agree with me that even if my balls are yet to drop, they're big enough for me to stand here and speak for myself rather than hiding behind my little brother." I said, drawing loud laughter from the Iron Islands contingent and smatterings of chuckles from the rest.
"I ride the fastest growing dragon Westeros has ever seen, Viserys was only able to bring an aging Balerion to the sky. He rides no dragon, commands no great respect, and hides behind his brother. Would you all see a realm ruled by Daemon Targaryen? I can assure you that my mother, Rhaenys would make a great regent, trained since she was a girl at her Mother's teat by her father Aemon to one day rule these kingdoms. And she will not do so alone. Make me king, and we shall create a regency council made of the Lord Paramounts from all regions to give you all a voice in how the realm is ruled" I said, drawing whispers from many. Even Corlys hadn't been briefed about this. He would probably think it a terrible idea, and I agreed. We just needed them to vote now, and if I was promising to share the power with them, then they would be more likely to give it to me in the first place. What happened after? Well, that was for after.
"So, Lords and Ladies of Westeros, I ask you to vote in favour of the laws and traditions that your ancestors have held dear for millennia. I ask you to vote for the same laws by which you claim your seats. Lord Bartheon, when Argella Durrandon married Orys Baratheon, was it not their son who inherited Storm's End rather than any of her father's brothers? Lord Royce, you who bent the knee to Lady Jeyne after the death of her brothers and father, why did you not do so to any of her uncles? Because you know the truth. You know it in your very bones. Lord Tully, you must exercise the same wisdom your ancestor Tommen Tully did when he supported Agnes Blackwood, recognising her right to Raventree Hall and joining her to battle the Hoares. Lord Tyrell, was it not your ancestors who supported King Garland the Sixth even during his minority? Surely you will not deny me my birthright for sharing his affliction— age. Lord Ellard Stark, no family here is older than yours. In no family here is the recent that a daughter inherits over a brother more entrenched. Lord Lannister, need I remind you that your family's claim over Casterly Rock comes from Lann the Clever himself, who married a Casterly daughter?" I said, turning to each Great Lord in turn. Some of the arguments were weaker than other others, but I just needed a majority. Just one more vote than Viserys would be enough.
"Thank you for your time, and I do hope you vote wisely as the fate of our realm hangs in the balance" I said with a bow. As planned, Igneel released another powerful roar that Meleys echoed in no time.
The voting began two hours later, and I watched as Lords trooped to the ballot in single file. At least, I was certain that I had a chance. Why was that? Because no one had publicly declared for either Viserys or myself since I had spoken. That meant something. It meant the Lords themselves did not know who was going to win and that could only mean neither party had a clear majority.
—
"The votes have been counted and collated, and the will of Westeros is known" Vaegon said from the dais.
"With a vote of ten and five hundreds to three and five hundreds, Viserys Targaryen's claim to the Iron Throne is declared the rightful claim to the Iron throne."
A/N: And so we have a story on our hands, boys and girls! Next three up on patreon( same username as here and link in bio), support me there and read them early.
A/N: Welcome to my latest story, The Seadragon's Roar. If you're new to my work, welcome and please do be sure to check out my other stuff, and if you're familiar with my stuff then I hope you enjoy this one as well. Next three chapters chapters on my patreon— same username as here and link in bio.
103 AC
"So what are you going to call this one?" Laena asked as we watched my latest invention come off the assembly line. The assembly line itself was one of my inventions. It allowed the shipyards of Driftmark produce ships just as quickly as the famed Arsenal of Bravos. House Velaryon ruled then waves and I would not see our dominance contested by a city of merchants and bankers. Losing my bid for the throne had actually been a boon in a lot of ways. For one, it had shown Father that I could be trusted to handle certain things on my own. I'd turned a sure loss into a narrow thing with a single speech and I'd put that same convincing spirit to work in getting his leave to work on my ships.
"The Red Queen" I said.
"No fair. You already named two ships after Mom. I want one named after me" My sister whined. Just looking at us, it would have been impossible to take us for anything other than twins. We weren't, of course. But enough people made the mistake that it was just less stressful to go with the flow than it was to oppose it.
"And what would you see me name this ship, dearest sister."
"Call her the Laena Velaryon" She said.
"Just your name?"
"Just my name" She nodded.
"That's a terrible idea." I said, but the smile on her face told me it was one she was going to be sticking by.
—
The Laena Velaryon came off the line to applause from a small crowd of Velaryon watchers and well-wishers. Complete, it was a stout, broad-beamed sailing ship. Reminiscent of what would have been a 15th-Century Carrack. Not like I knew how to build one from scratch but the Velaryons employed some of the best shipwrights in the world, and with an idea here and there, we'd been able to create this masterpiece. The hull was rounded, built out of overlapping planks that gave it a warm brown finish. At its stern rose a tall boxy aft castle with two steeped decks, made to make defending the ship easier. The forecastle was at the bow, forming a raised platform in front of the main deck. It had three masts, a towering main mast, a slightly shorter foremast, and a raked mizzenmast behind the main mast. Both the two prior masts carried large square sails hung from horizontal yards with the mainmast flying a smaller topsail above. The mizzenmast was rigged with a triangular sail angled back towards the stern, making it easier to steer and tack.
From the ships bow came a slender bowsprit braced by stays and hosting another small sail, yard swung almost like a mini foremast. Across its body was a forest of shrouds, ratlines, and backstays, acting as crew ladders and helping to stabilize the spars. For decoration, there was a single flag— a grey dragon above a deep blue sea. That was my own standard and every ship I'd designed would wear it.
"How fast is she?" Vaemond asked, looking at my beauty with awe in his eyes. The first things my assembly lines had produced were the kin of ships House Velaryon had made for decades at this point— Galleys. This. This was something new.
"My calculations say we should be able to get her about as fast as a galley" He snorted.
"At that size? Impossible" His disbelief was clear. The Laena Velaryon was the biggest ship in High Tide's harbour, and it wasn't even close.
"Her sails, unique design, and rare components mean she can catch the wing at just the right angle and bearing to move faster than anything her size should even dream of being capable of. But she is only the first of this platform. The Laena Velaryon is a pleasure ship more than anything else, and so is equipped with eight luxury cabins, fifty servant quarters, a massive kitchen, and a wide sailor's cabin. It is to be a castle on the sea, a display of Velaryon dominance even as we travel over the tides. It is to be your ship, Sister" I said to her, turning to her once I said the last sentence.
"Mine?"
"Yes, yours."
"You wanted to go to Bloodstone to look for a certain Bronze dragon did you not?" This is the ship that will take us there" I said finally.
"You're coming along?"
"You think mother and father would let you go alone?" I asked with a chuckle. And it was true. It had taken everything I had to convince them that this was a worthwhile journey. For some reason, Rhaenys had been willing to consent on my word alone, but Corlys himself had needed more convincing. In the end, only the fact that as a Velaryon heir, I was yet to undertake any significant naval voyages of my own and was about to reach my tenth birthday. I might have been a prodigy of never seen before talent, but House Velaryon's power came from our ships and the men who sailed them. Those men would not respect me if they did not see that I could join them in their element and thrive.
"The two of you will sail from here to Bloodstone, spend a week docked there, and then return— Vhagar or no Vhagar" Corlys clearly wasn't much hopeful of us catching the Bronze Bitch but I had a feeling. The kind feeling that I knew not to ignore. It was the kind of feeling that ad made me reinforce the ship's massive aft castle even before the idea had come to use it as a landing platform for Igneel in emergency situations. Well, that was when his dedicated barge could not serve.
"Now, show me the other thing you have been working on, my son" He said.
"Well, this one is less showy, but here we go" I said, waving at the man on the other end of the harbor. He waved back to show he got the message. And my second ship began to make its way from the line.
The second ship was something that I'd gotten the idea of from my previous life. It was an aircraft carrier— designed for the only kind of aircraft that called this world home— Dragons. That meant it was essentially a massive barge. I'd designed it for igneel, an taking his seemingly endless rapid growth into account, made it suited for something half again his current size so that meant ti could carry a wagon like meleys even if it would be a bit cramped for the red queen herself.
It had a massive deck that was essentially one. Giant mechanized platform. With a set of pulleys and levels, the deck could be opened to reveal an internal hold large enough for Igneel to nap within for a few hours quite comfortably; I'd checked a few times to be certain. Even the darkness within was not much of an issue for the dragon as they were used to sleeping in dark caves. I had no idea how he would react to the rocking of the vessel in the open seas or how he would manage the colder knights when he would be unable to heat up his surroundings with his breath— on account of being a boat made of wood. But both of those were concerns that could be addressed in time— would have tone addressed in time more like.
The potential of being able to ship around our weapons of medium destruction was too massive not to be pursued, If it meant I would have to figure out how to build a boat from steel with present resources, then that would be it.
"For Igneel" I said to Corlys' look of confusion.
"I call her the Dragon Carrier. She is designed to be crewed by no more than half a dozen people. It would get smoked by most things on the open ocean in a race, but it wouldn't struggle to keep up at cruising speeds. If it ever came to it, the dragon would never be more than an hour's flight away from the rest of the crew.
"So this is your insurance. The thing you think would make it impossible for me top refuse you and your sister this trip" He said. I shrugged. He'd already given his permission but if he wanted to play it up for some reason then that was his right.
"Assemble your crew and sail forth in a sennight, my son. Go do me proud" He said, placing a hand on my shoulder even as his voice softened. I nodded, not quite understanding where he was coming from. Laena was the one with a task to carry out. I just had to make sure she was safe while she did it.
—
Early on in our journey, I had to make a choice on what to do when we encountered Pirate vessels. We were a modest fleet— if you could call two ships a fleet, that is. And the Velaryon sails we flew were more bait than warning. This world was too large for anyone to care much the danger of posing off House Velaryon by taking two ships. The Laena Velaryon with her unique size and bearing was also a tempting target for many, or at least I had suspected she would be and wasn't surprised to see black sails gaining on us as we cut a straight path to Bloodstone.
The Stepsons were pirate infested at their best, and so we weren't caught my by surprise. "Position, Lord Laenor?" The true captain of this vehicle called out. I simply stared down the approaching ship. The Dragon Carrier was behind us, but not much so.
"Send a signal to the crew of the Dragon Carrier" I said and watched with a telescoping eye— a far eye in local parlance as the top half of the deck was removed. My bond with Igneel meant he could feel exactly what I wanted him to do, and his nature meant he wanted to do it as well . The Dragon Carrier lurched abruptly as Igneel shot into the air. I had a theory about dragons.
Sure, they were all roughly the same species, but I was beginning to doubt that they were all the same race. Some dragons were just much too different from others. For example, looking at Caraxes and Meleys next to each other made it clear that Caraxes was far more serpentine than the rest of his race. Most of his mass was concentrated around a long neck and an even longer tail. Why did this matter? Because of Igneel. Igneel was different from both Caraxes and Meleys. His body, while massive had a lot of mass in his midsection, legs, and wings. His tail and neck were shorter even than Meleys. That meant that when he pushed off it was with those powerful legs and he pushed himself so far into the air before his wings caught a wind and began to rapidly flap, carrying him high into the air faster than any other dragon I'd seen could manage.
At present, his straight-line acceleration was better even than Meleys. She could turn with far more grace than my missile of muscle and fire could so she still won most of our races but they were close things now rather than being the farces they used to be. In no time at all, Ignoble made it to the ship approaching us. With my far eye, I could see the pirates begin to panic as they realised what was upon them.
"Dracarys" I whispered to myself, and just like he had heard my voice, Igneel's mouth opened and from it came a torrent of blue flames that carved a trench in the ship in one blow. I smiled at the result of our training. Dragon flames were not just hot, but they were also explosive. That was the trait that Aegon the Dragon had used to deadly effect in many of his sieges, and it was the same one Igneel used to put an end to our enemies.
He did one more pass over the ship— or what remained of it— sending red flames all over her body, setting it on fire before flying back to his carrier. The crew who had gathered to watch suddenly began clapping and hooting. Even the skeleton crew of the Dragons Carrier were letting out their own cheers before Igneel landed in the hold a few seconds later, making the boat lurch again, and this time sending one man overboard.
"Man overboard" I cackled.
"That was so cool" Laena beamed from my side. How the hell had I forgotten about her?
"It was, wasn't it?"
"Hell yes, it was. He went vroom, and then he went whoosh, and the ship just went crack, crack, boom. It was over in like seconds" She said with all the glee of an eleven year old witnessing wanton destruction. Could I have pursued less violent means with the pirates? Probably. They'd probably have turned away, giving up on trying to take us if I had shown Igneel as a threat rather than using him immediately. Even just telling them I was an actual son of the Sea Snake and not just a random cousin flying the Banner would probably have had them turning around not wanting the smoke, but those were probabilities. What was a certainty? Putting them in the ground for good and leaving them there.
"You can't wait till we find Vhagar, can you?" I asked with a smirk. She shook her head and then began enthralling me with tales of what she had read about the Bronze beast that would have in another world burned her name into history with her actions in the Dance of Dragons.
—
It turned out that finding a massive dragon at least double the size of every other known living being was harder than it seemed. The report had said she'd been roosting on Bloodstone. But when we arrived, the locals had been more than willing to tell us that she hadn't been spotted in weeks. Instead, she had moved to some of the other islands. So that was what we did. We went from port to port searching for the dragon. The sailors had opposed, trying to adhere to Corlys' earlier instructions but the Sea Snake was a sea away and my dragon had burned three ships on the way here. All I had to do was ask and all Igneel had to do was roar.
Everywhere we went, we received word that the dragon had been by just recently before relocating to another island. It was like the thing was laughing at us. Especially when our supplies began to dry up and the Laena Velaryon began to develop faults. Her sails had gotten tangled more than once. We'd had the foremast nearly snap during a sudden storm just out of Torturer's Deep— an isle that had more than earned its name, and had to stop at one of the ones too small to get a name to both wait out the next storm we could see coming and make repairs. Just another barren set of storm-swept rocks in this kingdom made of barren sets of storm-swept rocks. I could see why Daemon had given up on this place when he had taken it.
But then I could also see why Corlys had made common cause with him to take it in the first place. The Stepstones had potential. They were not a kingdom in the vein of somewhere like the Reach where everything from wine to grain could be sourced locally. No, its economy would always be dependent on trade to see it survive but that was not a bad thing. It was perfectly placed to take advantage of said trade— place smack dab between Dorne, Westeros, and the Free Cities of Essos. There was a reason this place managed to keep so many pirate bands alive and prospering after all. The more I saw of it, the more I knew I wanted it, and even better I would not need to convince Corlys to take it.
Daemon would come to him with his harebrained scheme, Corlys would make common cause with him and then I would find myself fighting for the fate of these islands. Except that I would be sure to swoop in once he got bored of them and turn them into something more. Something worthwhile. Maybe he would press a claim once I developed them, but then he would be far too late.
It was while I schemed, staring into the ocean that I saw a flash of Bronze off to the side. I turned to find the Bronze Bitch herself nary an island over dragging a whale into the beach. Gods, she was massive. Easily five times Igneel's size and more. While she couldn't just rip him in half with one large bite like she had with Arrax, she wouldn't need three at his present size.
Against my better instincts, I froze with fear. Luckily for us all, my sister had no such higher functions, and she'd turned once she saw me frozen. "There she is" she yelled for all the sailors to hear.
—
With Vhagar's size it proved difficult to convince the crew to sail The Laena Velaryon over to the next island. I considered just flying Laena over on Igneel but then that would bear the risk of having her smell like another dragon and maybe drawing Vhagar's ire. In the end, the best choice was a boat. A small fishing boat. Two of the bravest— or greediest for I had offered a substantial amount of gold for those willing to take the chance— bore the burden of rowing the two of us over to the next island.
By the time we arrived, Vhagar was just about being done with meal and so I was forced to temper Laena's enthusiasm to get her to wait for the dragon to finish polishing off the last bits of charred flesh. When she did, there was naught I could do to keep her from her chosen dragon.
"Vhagar, Lykiri" She screamed her will in the massive beast's direction.
A/N: And so we get more Velaryon-ing, It's unknown when Laena claimed Vhagar but it was probably later than 103 AC— not much later though since we know she had the dragon at some point during her being considered as Viserys' wife. Here, she claims the dragon earlier spurred on by a sibling with a cool dragon of his own. Next three up on patreon( same username as here and link in bio), support me there and read them early.
A/N: Welcome to my latest story, The Seadragon's Roar. If you're new to my work, welcome and please do be sure to check out my other stuff, and if you're familiar with my stuff then I hope you enjoy this one as well. Next three chapters chapters on my patreon— same username as here and link in bio.
103 AC
Was Corlys pleased when we returned two months later than we were supposed to? No. Was he less pissed when he saw Vhagar for the first time? Also, no. Must have been a result of the two of us trying to scare him with the dragon and pranking him that she had gone out of control and begun to rampage. Still, there were few regrets on my end, and on Laena's end, there were none. Should I have let her convince me to spend time on the unnamed islands teaching her to fly and helping her strengthen her bond with Vhagar? Nope. Not at all. Most of the flying had been bareback, so we'd ended up giving her a series of bruises and welts that led to a dressing down from Mom that neither of us would be forgetting anytime soon.
Still, it was all well and good until the raven had come. Dark wings, dark words as they say. In this case, the dark words had been about Jaehaerys' death. Not really his death, to be frank. There was little love to be lost between House Velaryon and the old King. No, the dark words had been Viserys' coronation. It was indeed going to come to pass. We had known it was an inevitability, but everyone knew there was a difference between logically knowing something and then being confronted with its occurrence.
As the runner-up from the Great Council, I basically had no choice but to be present with the family. To do otherwise would be to signal dissatisfaction with the decision— to signal intent not to abide. And that was risky. Maybe even as risky as what Corlys was suggesting— rebellion.
"Half the realm voted with us. Half the realm will rise with us. We have the dragons. We have the seas. We have all that we need to press your claim" He said, sounding exasperated, words directed at our mother who had shut him down the second he had brought it up.
"You would have us rebel. Have us become traitors not just to who we are but to everything we stand for. Have me betray, and definitely even slay my own kin. Kingslayer, Kinslayer, usurper, those words they would call us across the realm" She parried his attempt to push with grace that I would not hesitate to call Queenly, and I knew Corlys could see it.
"They are the betrayers and usurpers. The throne is yours by law and by right. All you would be doing is pressing your right with swords at your back."
"We swore an oath, Corlys"
"An oath taken at the point of a sword is no oath indeed. Baratheon is more than willing to march twenty thousand storm knights to your cause".
"You've mentioned this fool idea to him?" She sounded aghast. It was almost like she did not know the man she married. Corlys Velaryon did not take no for an answer.
"Mentioned? Pah. It was his idea after all. All the realm must be thinking it now. Let us strike now. Send letters to the realm. See who rises in our favour, and then strike at King's Landing. Caraxes and a hatchling Syrax will be no match for Meleys, Igneel, and now Vhagar. We have aerial supremacy, naval supremacy, and the superior lawful claim" He said.
"A claim that Laenor eloquently brought before every lord of the realm and saw voted down? That is the claim you want me to turn my cloak and slay my kin over?"
"You were born to be Queen, Rhaenys. My love, just look at you. You deserve that throne far more than that weak willed, softspined, spawn of Baelon."
"And yet, the gods have not deemed it fit to bless me with the throne"
"The gods have put it within your grasp, my love. All you have to do is reach out and take it".
"You make it sound so simple" She said.
"It is. My love, it is." Corlys said, and I watched her begin to fold. Oh fuck. I had no idea how I'd escape this foolishness if the both of them somehow agreed on it. The precedent it would set alone. There would be a Dance every few decades when one side decides they have the dragons and the will. Rhaenys then looked over in our direction and her face hardened.
"Vhagar is ridden by my daughter, not even one and ten. Igneel is ridden by my son yet to see his tenth nameday. These are the beasts and riders you intend to unleash on a battlefield? No. I will not hear it, Corlys. Not now, not ever. We will attend the coronation. We will bend the knee and when the time comes, we will arm twist Viserys into merging the claims. He will have a son sooner or later, and Laena would make a divine queen. His present daughter, Rhaenyra, is of an age with Laenor— there is a match there."
"Are royal weddings— even two of them— worth a throne? Worth giving up on your birthright? And who is to say he will agree?"
"They are the best we can hope for. Our blood will rule the seven kingdoms in time. We will have a Princess for the Lady of Driftmark. And as for Viserys, surely you do not think you are the only one who remembers half the realm voting in our support. He will seek to wed the clams if he has any sense."
"And if he does not? You would give up a certainty for a probability?"
"I would give up the world to see my children safe, Corlys." She said, staring him down. And for perhaps the first time in his life, the Sea Snake yielded. He took the no for what it was and nodded before turning to leave the room. As he did so, Rhaenys turned around, tears beginning to build in her eyes before she walked up to us and enclosed us in her grasp.
I understood what she was giving up for our safety here. A throne. Not just a throne, the throne. The one she had been raised to rule. The one that her father had assured her was her birthright. She would give that up for us. I will give you a throne, mother. I silently swore.
—
While Rhaenys won the argument to decide whether to plunge the realm into a civil war or not, Corlys won the one to determine how House Velaryon appeared at the funeral of King Jaehaerys and Viserys' coronation. The answer to that was in full force. He sailed atop his flagship, the eponymous Sea Snake, while the rest of the extended family took quarters within The Laena Velaryon. She was easily the biggest ship in Westeros, and he was going to show her off.
For the dragon-riding part of our family, however, there was but one choice. Several leather-workers, tanners, and blacksmiths had to be requisitioned and practically whipped into working day and night, but they had managed to make a worthy saddle for Vhagar in the two weeks before we were to set off. That was where I stood now, helping Laena onto her massive dragon, even as the Bronze bitch sent heated puffs of air in my direction every few minutes to register her displeasure.
When I finally managed to secure my sister into her saddle and locked the chains, I took a step back. A step back that was helped by the Bronze Bitch's tail pushing me until I landed right on my arse. Igneel had watched the whole thing with patience, but that was clearly the last straw. I heard him roar in my mind and in reality as he pushed away the Dragon handlers that had been taking the duty of saddling him— the Bronze Bitch had badly burned the two dragon handlers who had gotten close, and even though she was her full bitchy self with me, it was still better than what she did to others.
I pushed myself to my feet, forcing myself between both dragons. "Igneel, calm. Calm. I'm okay" I whispered to him in high Valyrian even as I pressed upon the bond we shared, trying to emphasise that he didn't want that smoke. Behind me, I could hear Vhagar snort like she felt the entire thing was funny. Yup, she was definitely a bitch, I thought to myself as I led Igneel away. We were in a massive field so that meant I could go some distance to speak to my dragon.
"Yes, I know she's annoying" I said to his first roar while I worked to complete putting the saddle on.
"I agree. She has no right to treat people the way she does just because of her size," I said, to another roar. And the roar that followed made me almost double over in laughter. Even as I heard Vhagar roar from a distance away. She probably had some idea she was being mocked.
"Yeah, she's undoubtedly put on some weight in the midsection" I said.
"You should probably stop doing that" I heard Mom's voice before I saw her. And when I did, I felt my breath be knocked away by the sight. Corlys had commissioned new riding leathers for all of us, but while Laena and I were children who looked cute in ours, Rhaenys' made her look breathtaking. It was like she was dressed for war— to be queen of the skies.
"Vhagar's all talk" I said, before turning fully in her direction, ignoring Igneel's growl at losing g my attention.
"You look beautiful, mother. All the stars put together would struggle to compare with your beauty" I continued as I stepped closer and gave her a bow. She merely arced her brow in reply.
"For one, I know you're not stupid enough to actually think that. For the other, thank you for the compliment. Now maybe save some of that charm for the largest living Dragon the world over so I don't have to dig through dragon dung for the remains of my favourite son" She said with a smile.
"Only son" I pointed out.
"And therefore the favourite," She continued. I smiled and turned back to Igneel as Meleys was led over by the dragon keepers. Unlike Vhagar, she did not make a scene as she was led over to her rider already saddled.
"We'll leave in the next five minutes. By now, your father should be arriving the city. So by the time he disembarks and harbors, we should have arrived the city itself." She said.
"If the Bronze Bitch behaves" I said with a dirty look in Vhagar's direction. It was a reasonable gripe to be honest, she had changed direction on more than one occasion and sent Laena going in directions that she wanted to go in rather than what her rider wanted.
"Ow ow ow ow" I found myself saying against my will as Rhaenys grabbed a hold of my ear.
"Are you hard of hearing you fool child? If Vhagar decides to eat you, do you think there is anything Meleys or Igneel could do to stop her?" She scolded.
"Fine, fine. I'll stop pissing her off." right as soon as she stops pissing me off, I continued mentally. Rhaenys gave me a look but said nothing.
"Go sit in your saddle before I decide to bend you over my knee" She said, and I did not need a second warning. I was off, and in a matter of minutes, all three dragons were.
The journey to Kings Landing was more or less a straight line. That meant that Igneel was best placed to win a race for that distance. But then there was the length of the journey to consider. We had strength and speed in spades, but endurance was one part of our training we still had to work on. That meant we had to pace ourselves and ended up solidly in the middle of the pack. Meleys in front, and Vhagar behind.
From the skies, King's Landing was a jewel of a city. It made both Hull and Spicetown look drab in comparison with its hills, its massive walls, its multiple gates, and at the very center of it the behemoth of red stone— the Red keep. It was a massive castle that put most others to shame. In my opinion, High Tide was more beautiful, but there might have been some bias there. In the harbour, we could see the ships bearing the Velaryon sails, and how they put all the others next to them to shame. Meleys' roar announced our arrival as she sharply banked and began a circuit around the city that would have been hers if the world was fair.
I leaned down on my saddle and rubbed Igneel's scales, pulling at our bond. He took the signal and roared an answering roar before banking as well, joining Meleys' circuit. We had rehearsed this so many times that I could see it all in my mind's eye. But Igneel and I were not the cause for concern. That was why I turned in my saddle to see behind me— Igneel knew his role well enough that I did not need to direct him. In every rehearsal, Vhagar had done one of two things— either followed through and performed her place or gone rogue and done something else. 'Come on, you Bronze Bitch' I silently prayed, and it seemed she could somehow hear me because she turned her head right in my direction.
Those green eyes met mine, and I could see intelligence in them. An intelligence that knew just how important this would be to me. So I was not truly surprised when instead of roaring, she shot bright flames all around her, obscuring her head from view for a second, and then she moved. I almost fell off the saddle in shock as she moved at what had to be double her usual speed for a few seconds, mouth open and snapping in my direction. Fuck. I turned, barely managing to keep my wits about me as I begged Igneel to accelerate.
He listened, and we missed her snapping teeth by the scales of our hide, and then she slowed, moving back to join the formation as rehearsed, growling all the while. For the rest of my life, I would swear that the dragon had been laughing at me on this day, and no one, not even Laena, my partner in all things, believed me. We completed the seven laps around the village with no issue before landing in the Red Keep itself. Faux pas? Maybe. But Viserys had gotten our knees to bend. We would not see him chain our dragons like dogs as well. At least, I wouldn't.
In the Keep's courtyard stood Corlys and his men. He had his wife in his arms bare seconds after she dismounted.
—
"We are gathered here today to pay our last respects to King Jaehaerys Targaryen, the First of his Name, the Conciliator, rider of Vermithor, husband to the Good Queen Alyssane, father to…" I tuned him out as the High Septon continued to drone on and on. This was the price of the Old King's close relationship to the faith, boredom at his funeral. His body would still be cremated by a dragon procession in Valyrian fashion, but it was still clear that this was an Andal funeral more than anything else. Not something I would have cared about much if it didn't mean hours of standing and kneeling, and sitting on wooden benches as this foggy old man ran through an obviously ill-rehearsed sermon. He'd already gotten the order of the children wrong on two separate occasions.
I turned my attention to him and looked around the hall. Rival claimants or not, we were still the second most powerful house in the realm and Viserys had no choice but to seat us as such. We were on the second row, right behind the main Targaryen line. Viserys, Daemon— who had yawned on three separate occasions, Aemma, and a young Rhaenyra Targaryen. The realm's delight as she would one day be known was just a little girl now, awkward, clumsy, and stumbling. She'd already asked to leave twice, and I could see the strain in Aemma Arryn's smile at dealing with the little brat.
I turned from them, looking behind me to see the rest of the realm arrayed in all her splendor. Otto Hightower and his domestic family took the row behind us, and I scoffed internally when the man sent a smile and wink in my direction. Behind him was House Lannister, and I was sure the rest of the Lords Paramount were arranged in an order from there. Probably one that was planned to avoid giving offense as much as possible.
At least, to avoid giving offense to those this King considered as allies. There was no missing how Lannister and Tyrell who had both voted for Viserys were the first two lords. Or that Baratheon and Stark, my most vocal supporters, were off to the back. Viserys had won now, and it seemed like he was telling the world that failing to support him was a mistake. Behind House Baratheon, which were the last of the Lords Paramount, were the Essosi delegations. The Sealord of Bravos had sent a delegation with his son as the head. A delegation that Corlys was eyeing with too much interest for my taste. Laena would not find herself engaged to a wastrel. Not on my watch.
What felt like hours later, the High Septon finally finished? And then the body was taken out. The burning was to take place at the Dragonpit to allow the commoners and the likes to pay their respects. And they did. They came in their dozens, hundreds, and thousands while I stood to the side waiting for the procession to end.
When it finally did, Viserys stepped to the stage and said the final blessings in High Valyrian. He stepped back then, towards his wife and their daughter, who stood next to her toddler dragon.
"Dracarys" Rhaenys called first, and we all followed her lead. Meleys, Caraxes, Igneel, Vhagar, and even Vermithor, who had somehow sensed the body's arrival in the pit, turned the old King to ash, and so began the reign of Viserys the First.
A/N: Long live the King, I guess. Next three up on patreon( same username as here and link in bio), support me there and read them early.
A/N: Welcome to my latest story, The Seadragon's Roar. If you're new to my work, welcome and please do be sure to check out my other stuff, and if you're familiar with my stuff then I hope you enjoy this one as well. Next three chapters chapters on my patreon— same username as here and link in bio.
104 AC
"Continuous blast" I said, and watched as Igneel obeyed perfectly, sending a stream of red flames straight at the boulder we were practicing with. I timed it mentally, counting up the seconds as I marveled at his growth. Years ago, he would have struggled to get to five. Now, he did not stop until seventy-three.
"Seventy-three" I told him in High Valyrian, and his claws scuffed the ground as he growled in irritation. On more than one occasion, mother and Laena had commented that my training with Igneel pushed him too hard and that I was too strict. If only they knew that he was harder on himself than I could ever be.
"Chin up" I said. "Only one second away from your personal best, and we both know you're far from fresh and well-rested like you were back then. This is something to be proud of. Your endurance is getting better" I said. And wasn't that the truth. I'd boasted that Igneel was the fastest growing dragon in the world, but even I was impressed with just how rapid that growth could be at times. It was more than about physical size and mass— though that did advance at a rapid speed. No, it was things like this. We decided to train his endurance some months ago, and now he was leaps and bounds better than he had ever been.
Speaking of size though, that had grown, but he still remained the smallest dragon on Driftmark. We kept a good distance from the Bronze Bitch and her pranks when we could, but Meleys was practically a shadow for everything we did.. Even now, she was relatively close by, sitting languidly at the top of a hill overlooking our training. I had little doubts that it was something Mother had asked her to do. But then again, there was the fact that while I was mother's child and mother was her rider, Igneel himself had come from her clutch. Did Dragon's feel parental bonds? It was difficult to tell. Did she watch us because Mother had asked or because Igneel was her child. Either way, she did. And she was a good metric for comparing Igneel's size.
"Now, another lap around the Island since you seem so energetic" I said, and he growled his acceptance before ambling up to the boulder. It was a nice, smooth boulder littered with claw marks that we'd found a week ago. It was Boulder number 27, a replacement for boulder number 26 after the Bronze Bitch decided to land atop it the last time Laena and I raced. Igneel grabbed a hold of the boulder before his wings began to move. In a matter of seconds, he was in the air and making a course around the Island. I turned to Meleys and found her giving me an amused look. I waved in her direction even as I mentally timed Igneel's course. From this point, it was easy enough to watch him fly around the island while making sure he didn't take any shortcuts. He hadn't done that in years, but it was good to be careful.
XXX- RHAENYS
The Queen who never was was a woman of great and deep passions. She loved wholly and fully when she could. She had loved her father, her mother before she was lost to her, her husband, and fairly recently, both her children. She would love to say she loved them equally, but there was no way to deny the fact that Laenor, even with all his precocious mischief, worried her less than Laena did. He was just so much more careful most of the time— at least when it did not concern a certain Bronze dragon. She knew that Vhagar went out of her way to irritate and upset Laenor, but that was no excuse especially when the creature he sought to get even with could swallow him whole and never even notice that it had swallowed anything.
Besides the point, though, she loved her children. And she loved her husband. But sometimes the later just got the worst ideas where the former were concerned. "There is no need for this" She pushed. If Laenor was here, she had no idea which course he would support— one that would see him lost to her for years, or the sensible option.
"Yes there is. Viserys is doing just what you said he would. He's clearly considering arranging a betrothal between Laenor and Rhaenyra herself. This offer to squire Laenor is nothing more than a ploy to get him close so he can get to know him" Corlys said, and her husband was most likely right. She had ignored the age difference and married him because of his wits and ambition, after all. Both of them were fully on display here. He had not been tempered with old age like she had. He still had the desire to leave his mark atop the world. She already had made her mark. She got to see her marks walking about every morn at the breaking of the fast. She got to watch her marks. As they grew old, learned to ride horses, ride dragons, play instruments, paint, and engage in beauty in all its forms. And now he wanted to take one of her precious children from her.
"I don't care what Viserys wants. We are not supplicants to be called at every whim. If he wants to see Laenor, then he can come to Driftmark himself".
"You are the one who said we should bend the knee. You chose this course."
"I did. And I do not regret it. I just feel that it would be a mistake capitulating so early".
"And this has nothing to do with what happened on his first name day?" Corlys asked, bringing up that horrid time. The look she gave him could have curdled milk.
"Don't bring that up again, Corlys. I've said no and that is it. My son stays here with me."
"So I assume this means you won't be agreeing to betroth Laena to the Sealord's son?"
"Laenor said he'd castrate the boy if you tried to marry him to her"
"Of course he saw this one coming as well. Damn Dragon Dreams. I was going to say no, though. Laena will be Queen, one day, I vow it" He said to her, and she believed him. Damn her, she believed him.
Whatever she was about to say escaped her mind as she watched Igneel bank past the Castle through Corlys' immense glass windows. Her smile grew at seeing her prodigious son's equally prodigious dragon, but it died as she saw the shadow behind him. Vhagar. The oldest living dragon came upon Igneel in a flash of bronze and the next thing she knew, the two dragons had collided into each other. The noise was something that she ached to cover her ear from as Igneel managed little resistance to being flung straight into the sea by the collision. He flew out of control, and only managed to miss a Fisherman's boat by the skin of his fangs.
He landed in the water, leaving a massive wave in his wake, and Vhagar growled, sounding like a chuckle of all things before beginning to fly back to her lair.
"Was Laenor there? Was he on the saddle?" Corlys asked her, and for the first time in their marriage, she saw panic fill her husband's eyes. And in that precise second, she became unsure. Had Laenor been there? She hadn't seen him, but he was so small when compared to a dragon and at that distance it would have been possible for all of Igneel's bulk to hide him from view.
"I don't know" She said, and she didn't know who started running first. All she knew was that she and her husband sprinted like bats out of the hells as they ran through the castle. Dignity and propriety be damned as they screamed their son's name. She barely even noticed the Knights and men at arms also going about seeking out her son as she called for Meleys with the bond she shared.
"Where is my son?" She screamed to everyone and no one in particular and received naught but silence. Laenor never stayed in the sam place for long. It was Velaryon wanderlust, Corlys had called it to soothe her fears and she wished now that she had told him to fuck off and kept her son close like her instincts told her to. Laenor's rooms were empty. Laena hadn't seen him all day, and for a second she felt a traitorous part of her wish that her daughter had not aimed so high as to claim a creature as great and terrible as Vhagar.
The Maester had seen her son naught, and the master at arms reported the same. All avenues exhausted, she finally left the castle. He and Igneel trained off in the Island she remembered. Just as she left the island, Corlys mere steps behind her despite his age, she felt her mind be soothed by a familiar roar.
She looked up to see Meleys coming down at her, with a very familiar creature sullenly held within her claws. "Unhand me this instant" she heard her son's voice as he screamed at her dragon, and no sound had ever calmed her heart so thoroughly. Flapping her wings to slow her descent, Meleys let go, dropping him a few feet and she felt her breath hitch for a second but Corlys was there, catching her little boy in his grasp and holding him tightly.
"You don't worry me like that ever again" She whispered in his hair as she held him close— not even fully cognizant of how she had covered the space between them— breathing in his scent. He smelled like dragon dung and charcoal but most importantly, he smiled alive.
XXXXX- LAENOR
In all honesty, I should have seen this coming. With hindsight on my side, it as clear that it was inevitable. What was a parent's instinctive solution for fighting children— separation. That must have been doubly so with the whole one half of the feud being a basically invulnerable and unstoppable colossus capable of breathing flames strong enough to melt metal into ash. Needless to say, the next day was not a pleasant one.
There was Igneel being irritable as all hell about not being allowed to get back at Vhagar for tossing him into the sea. He probably saw it as just another step in the prank war between the two of us and the Centuries-old dragon. The only problem with that was that my mother was pissed and another stunt like flooding Vhagar's cave with ale would be much harder to pull off in this case. So that meant we had to let her get away with the last hit.
And then there was Laena who had been grounded just as surely as I was. Her inability to control Vhagar was being used against her, never mind that she was less than ten and five and Vhagar was over ten times as old, and magnitudes more stubborn. I felt the whole thing was unreasonable, but Laena seemed to care little that I was on her side and only saw it as her getting punished for my shit.
If Laena was bad, then the situation with Rhaenys was untenable. After the whole hugging me thing when she saw I was alright, she'd retreated into a shell of fury. She watched everything I did like a hawk. Already, my rooms had been taken away and I'd been unceremoniously tossed back into my infant chambers adjoined to her room. No more skipping sessions with the Maester or getting to leave weapons training early. It was like she had given up all her other duties as Lady of High Tide to focus on a single assignment: Leanor-watching. And she was much better at it than any of the guards that they used to sick on me.
She'd already caught me trying to sneak out twice and something— her very audible threats (read: screams that echoed about the castle)— told me that if I tried again then that would be the last time I did. Okay, slight amendment— if I got caught again then that would be the last time, I thought as I crawled through the chimney. Each room had a fireplace and they all needed some sort of outlet. That meant there was a chimney barely large enough for a preteen to squeeze through that led to the Castle's roof. Once I got there..e it would just be a matter of calling Igneel over with or bond, I thought top myself as I continued to climb.
This body needed to be in the sky. It needed to feel the wind against its skin. The itch of being confined half one from irritating to unbreakable in no time at all, and now I was going to finally do something about it.
I pushed upwards with my left leg and hand at the same time to allow my right to get purchase on the next openings. My fingers searched upwards and onwards, grabbing into suitable holds to keep my body stable. It was almost unreal, how this body had such instinctive strength and balance. No ten year old had any business being this strong or this in control of their bodily movements. I breathed in and out before taking the next push.
I could see the light as more than a vague pinprick now— I could see the chimney's opening. I pulled at my bond with Igneel, telling him that I was coming. I could feel a mix of apprehension and anticipation from him but nothing more than that. The bond we dragonlords shared with our partners was fascinating to me. For one, not everyone had the same thing. Laena could get vague inclinations of what Vhagar wanted but from what she could tell me it was based on what Vhagar wanted her to know. With mother, it was more like what Igneel and I had, albeit a lesser version where she could feel Meleys' moods and even send her messages through the bond. With Igneel and I, it was like being two halves of the same whole when we were within a certain distance.
Maybe it had something to do with him hatching in my cradle and the both of us essentially being twins in that we shared a birthday. The tale went that when Rhaenys had birthed me and the midwives placed me in a cradle, she had insisted that the egg she'd chosen from Meleys' most recent clutch— laid a week before she went to bed— be placed in my cradle. The instant we touched, Igneel hatched.
I pushed across the last few inches and finally reached the top of the chimney. Pushing down to lift myself up, I managed to lift one leg over the precipice, and then came the other. Home free, I thought as I heard a dragon grunt behind me. I turned around to see red. Meleys was crouched on the roof with Igneel at her side looking like he wanted to be anywhere else. Atop her dragon sat my mother in her riding leathers, looking like she wanted to peel me out of my skin.
"You couldn't give a guy a warning?" I asked, turning to Igneel instead of my mother. He whimpered while Meleys growled in his direction.
"That's enough of that. He's in trouble as well as you are" Mother said, looking ever the Queen that she never got to be. At least she did for a second before she sighed and slid from Meleys' saddle onto the uneven roofing of High Tide before walking over to me.
"You couldn't stay inside any longer could you, my boy?" She asked as she pulled my body into mine. I relaxed in the hug, momentarily forgetting my worries.
"I wanted to fly," I said, hoping it was an urge she could relate with. It had to be.
"I know, my boy. You need to fly for your own good. The only issue right now is Vhagar. She is way too unpredictable for me to countenance you being allowed to fly anywhere even close to her usual haunts, and even then it's only a matter of time until she adapts to the change and finds you wherever you end up on this island. You couldn't have just left the most dangerous creature in the world alone, could you? That is why your father and I have come to a decision. My Uncle Boremund wrote to request to take you on as a squire for his son, Borros who was knighted two years ago. We will write back to him with our assent. In a few weeks, you will leave for the Stormlands where you will be free to fly with Igneel and where time apart will allow this animosity between the two of you and Vhagar to cool down." She said, and I could see how much it hurt her to say those words.
"What?"
"I know your ears work, Laenor. You heard me."
"I don't want to go to the Stormlands" I said, and wasn't that the truth. I had a thousand things I was working on here. Access to the best shipwrights, thinkers, and minds in the world meant things go from being ideas to perfect prototypes in a matter of weeks rather than the months or years it ought to have taken.
"Yet, you have no choice. Just look at yourself, my son. You need this. Besides, it's a squireship. You will be free to return once you earn yourself a knighthood. Think of this as extra motivation for you to make me proud as I know you will" She said, and then uncaring of the fact that I was covered from head to toe in soot, she swooped me into her arms.
A/N: And so we get one of the first major canon divergences. His performance at the Great Council intrigues his Granduncle, Boremund and now he gets the opportunity to squire with Borros in the stormlands. Next three up on patreon( same username as here and link in bio), support me there and read them early.
Pre-Chapter A/N: More chapters on my patreon— same username as here and link in bio. Also a cheeky little discount– more information on that at the bottom AN.
On today's episode of women being near impossible to understand, we have the pre-teen Laena Velaryon, I wrote in my journal as I looked at her over the dinner table. Mother would ask me to put it away once the old arrived, so I quickly went back to writing my thoughts down as I thought them. Laena had been pissed at being unable to go flying with Vhagar. With that context, one would have expected her to be overjoyed at that punishment being lifted with my imminent departure. But against all odds, she'd lashed out— at Mother and father for suggesting it, and at me for accepting it with what she might have viewed as no resistance. My lack of resistance came from understanding that causes were worth fighting for and which ones were not.
I'd made my objections known, and been overruled on all accounts, so I decided to look at the bright side. House Baratheon was famously martial. Getting to spend time there meant I would become a much better fighter. It also meant less time under Corlys' careful eye. He let me invent as I wished, but I knew he kept a careful eye on everything I did, and to avoid questions, I'd been forced to keep my work limited to ships and even in that case to stuff that was technically possible with the science they had in this world, just not very efficient. Most of my innovation was just streamlining old processes and working with conventional wisdom and taking things to their logical conclusion. I was just iterating, not revolutionising the way I would otherwise have preferred to.
Nothing from the books made me think either of the Baratheons would care much about what I got up to. The third advantage was the fact that it meant my grounding would come to an end. Not being able to fly had been a punishment in and of itself, and then there was the additional woe of lost training time and being forced to spend my days either with the boring old fog of a Maester who had earned his links in history, strategy, and astronomy of all things. Needless to say, it hadn't taken much for me to be brought over to their side of things. Of course, I'd done nothing to correct their assumption that the tales of a knighthood and routing the Dornish with Borros Baratheon's counter-raiding group had been what swayed me to their side.
"Laenor" I turned to Corlys once he said my name. He then gestured towards the door, and immediately it opened, welcoming a man dressed in full plate. He was not very tall, standing at about Corlys' 5,10" and his muscles were nothing to write home about. Still, he gave off this aura that said he knew what he was doing when it came it a fight.
"This is Ser Ben Celtigar, a cousin to Lord Celtigar, who has agreed to swear to you and act as your sworn shield during your time in the storm lands.
—
"Have everything?" She asked, while making sure that I was tight against the saddle. Generally, I preferred to ride without chains, but Rhaenys had vetoed that in seconds, citing the storms that plagued the region I was going to be visiting.
"Considering you oversaw the packing, I think I should be asking you that question" I said cheekily, and I saw the temptation to clap me over my ears for the cheek, but she changed her mind and gave me a peck instead.
"The Baratheons will not much appreciate that sene of hour of yours, son" She said. I nodded, taking hr words to heart. I knew that I had a life that few people— even nobles, could relate with. For one, I had a virtually limitless stipend, a castle full of servants, and men-at-arms forced to listen to my every whim, and the freedom to do what I want when I wanted to— at least before my recent grounding. I doubted I would have the same liberties at Storm's End.
I turned to the side to find Corlys approaching. He was a fascinating man, this father of mine. Contradictory in many ways. Even in the way he approached the dragons. With Meleys, it was hesitant, like how one would approach a wild horse. He avoided eye contact, made sure to keep a respectful distance, and never addressed the dragon. With Vhagar, his choice of approach was simply, 'no'. He never got within five meters of the Bronze Bitch, keeping a healthy distance, and acting with the expected subservience. That all flipped on its head when it came to Igneel, though. He could march in and out of his presence without Igneel ever batting an eye, or releasing a growl.
And that was what he did. He came straight at us without hesitating, and Igneel did nothing but spare a glance in his direction before returning to his previous activity of staring into space.
"Ser Ben and the rest of your serving staff will be making the journey by sea and should be expected to join you within the fortnight. Until they arrive, I expect you to conduct yourself with a suitable level of regard— both for your hosts and for yourself and this family." He began. I nodded.
"And until they do, you can use this to purchase whatever it is you may find yourself in need of" he said, reaching to his side and unlatching the coin purse there. When he tossed it at me, it was just my luck that I had reached out with both hands to catch it. It was so fucking heavy that it had almost crashed through my stretched fingers and hit me on the face.
"Don't spend it all in one place" Mother said, watching me strap the coin purse to the rest of my things secured against the saddle.
"There's five thousand dragons in that purse. I'd love to see him try," Corlys scoffed. I smiled at his words, only to feel a hand lightly smack my head.
"Don't take that as a challenge. He will not be sending any more until the year is up if you squander this" She said.
I looked over at Corlys behind her shoulder, and he just winked in my direction. Yeah, he'd definitely be sending more even if I squandered this bit. Good news because I had no doubts that my experiments would end up being quite expensive.
"Is Laena coming?" I found myself asking, even if I knew the answer already.
"She seems to have gotten it into her head that you will not leave without her saying goodbye and so has locked herself away in her rooms" Mother said with a shake of hr head. I smiled at the thought. One year older than me, but the dynamic between Laena and I had always been one of me being the older sibling and her being the younger, less mature one.
I reached into my jacket's inner pocket and took out a sealed letter. I knew she'd pull something like this.
"Please give this to her when she gets out for dinner" I said. Mother nodded, before pulling me into another tight hug, that I returned.
"Now, you should get going. You remember the designated rest spots?"
"Yes mother"
"Good. Even if you feel like Igneel can continue, it's best if you stop at those spots to avoid having to stop somewhere else. Your father has spoken with the affected Lords and made the right payments, so don't hold igneel back from hunting to his heart's content" She said, and I nodded again. I knew this already. She knew I knew this. We'd gone over the route multiple times. She herself had flown the route on Meleys' back to make sure that there would be no surprises. With what we measured of Igneel's speed, and assuming two hours of rest at each spot, we were scheduled to arrive at Storm's End before the end oof tomorrow.
"Goodbye Laenor." She said, placing a kiss on my forehead. I nodded at her, and then her husband behind her. The ship with my staff and the rest of my supplies had set out a day earlier, so there was nothing holding me here. I patted Igneel's neck, and he rose from his crouched position, rising to his full height.
We heard a roar off to the sides, and it was the Bronze Bitch, just as expected. She was perched on one of the many hills that dotted Driftmark, watching us leave. I scoffed in her direction, never noticing the small figure atop her back. I sent my intentions to Igneel, and he turned in the other direction, taking five quick steps before shooting off into the air like a bullet. I felt the wind press against me, trying to toss me off the saddle, but I kept my grip around his neck tight even as I buried the urge to whoop and holler. This was it, finally.
—
"Welcome to Storm's End" Boremund Baratheon greeted me with those words as I was led into the throne room where storm kings had ruled from for generations. High Tide was a beautiful castle in its own right, a masterpiece of marble and glass, but there was something it just lacked when compared with Storm's End. For one, the Baratheon Castle was at least half again High Tide's size. Not quite impractically large like Harrenhal had been. But it was still clear that the castle could not have been the world of a single generation.
"Thank you for having me, my lord" I said with a bow. I did not kneel. House Baratheon was the greatest house in the storm lands, yes, but I am a dragon rider, and that alone gave me privileges that others would dare not take. He made note of the gesture, I knew, but beyond that, there was no reaction from my mother's uncle beyond a slight narrowing of his eyes.
"Rhaenys says you'e willful, stubborn, that you've never heard an order you did not object to. That might have been acceptable back on driftmark, but we will not be tolerating any of that here. Before the sun is up, you will report to the training yard. There, Ser Manfred will take charge of the first part of your training. He will decide what you learn and when you learn it. When he thinks you are ready, he will send for my son to take over the rest of your training" He said.
"My lord, what about the rest of the day?" I found myself asking when he did not say anything else.
"What rest of the day?" He sounded genuinely confused as he spoke.
"Oh. You think there is any time you won't be at the yard for? Until Ser Manfred is satisfied, you will spend every waking hour from dawn to dusk at the training yard." He said.
"Now, the servants will show you to your chambers" He dismissed me at that point, and I couldn't even hide the confusion on my face. Where was the time for lessons with the Maester? No lessons with the septon, either? Just time in the yard? No music or dancing lessons?
—
I ducked to the left and used the chance to bring my sword to bear, stabbing straight at my opponent. His shield was in the way almost before I'd even completed my thrust, and he knocked it to the side before I was sent flying to the floor with a boot to my chest. I felt the padding I wore slide across the ground for a few seconds before I came to a stop.
The sun was just beginning to rise, and I'd already eaten dirt on five different occasions. How fucking fantastic.
"Are you going to stand up, boy? Or ya enjoying the taste of the dirt?"
"Give me a second" I barely managed to mutter before I felt a hand grab a hold of my clothing and pull me straight up.
"No resting in battle. Now sword up".
—
I blocked the attack, gritting my teeth as I felt my arm and shoulder shake from the force of his blow. Ser Manfred was terrible when it came to holding back. I moved my own sword into position, but my return blow was too slow, and he was slapping my blade away with a flick of his wrist in a manner of seconds.
I stepped back, mindful of my footwork to not let myself get tripped up for the seventh time today. With my step back, I took a step forward almost immediately, aiming to disorient him by not doing what I was sure he expected me to do after that particular move. I was right. This time, I forced him to move as he stepped backwards mid-lunge to avoid my searching blade. I stepped forward again, steel hungry for blood, but found myself on the floor in a matter of seconds.
"What did you learn from that one?" He asked with a chuckle, even as I heard Ser Ben begin chuckling from his watchful position. Some sworn shield he was.
— 105 AC—
I moved my head backwards to avoid a searching swipe of his blade, biting back my annoyance to try to stay focused on the here and now. A year here and I still hadn't managed to beat this motherfucker, not even once. So that meant every waking hour that I couldn't get off to see. Igneel was spent here in the yard, getting my arse beaten. I was sure that if not for his natural fear of dragons and what they could do, Boremund would have banned access to Igneel already in favour of me getting even more time in the yard.
I blocked the next slash with my shield, and then was forced to block the one after that. And then another after that. "What did I say about hunkering behind that shield of yours?" I heard Manfred's rough voice before I felt something hit my shield and send me flying into the dirt. I blacked out for a second, but when I returned, it was to find him standing over me with that look in his eyes.
"Not to" I replied, the question he'd asked before he dealt out the punishment.
"Good, then don't" He said, before taking a step back and lifting his sword, silently bidding me to keep going. Everywhere hurt, but it was not an offer I could refuse. I'd seen what lay in that direction.
—106 AC—
I pressed the attack, moving in a continuous circle of steel and motion. Each swipe of my blade led to a slash, or to a thrust, or to a stab, or something else that Manfred would have to block or deflect as I tried my level best to force him on the back foot with the sheer number of attacks. Years of sparring had beaten it into my head that contests of strength were far from the way to go. Contests of speed, on the other hand? Well, Manfred was a mountain of muscle and padding while I was, in his words, 'a lithe little shit'.
I weaved to the side, trying to move away from his sword's range. My first stab was caught on his shield as I forced him to finally bring said shield to bear. I danced backwards, avoiding the predictable shield bash before banking to the side suddenly. My sword moved for his back, but he whirled around with speed that belied his size. My sword was sent flying into the air as it came in contact with his, and the next second, his sword was at my throat.
"Yield" I muttered sullenly, moving back to grab hold of the sword where it had landed.
"Nice one. Maybe you'll succeed in beating me sometime this century" He mocked. I nodded, taking the words and allowing them to run off my back like water on a stone. Manfred had mocked me every second of every day from the second I'd first stepped into this training field, so if he wanted to get a rise from me, he had to do much better than that.
—107 AC—
"Who's this?" I found myself asking as I walked into the training yard and found someone standing next to Manfred. He was shorter than the older knight, but that was barely noteworthy. Everyone who wasn't named Boremund Baratheon was shorter than Manfred. At this point, I was beginning to think he was the old bastard's bastard son. The lack of last name and the general regard he received from the household were strong signs pointing in that regard.
"This— this is your new sparring partner" Manfred said.
"Getting scared I'll kick your arse, old man?" I asked with a smirk covering my face.
"Even in a century, you'd fail to get that good. No. Ser Ben noticed something that I had failed to consider when we began your training. If you fight only me, then the only thing you'd get good at is fighting me— reading my moves, knowing what to do when I attack. The goal here is for you to be good at fighting. Well, passable. Good might be a stretch considering your talent—"
"Lack thereof, you mean" Ben cut in. Et tu, Brutus? I sent him a betrayed look that he answered with a smirk.
"So every week for the next year, you'll find yourself faced with a different partner. Some of them will use different weapons, and others will use familiar weapons in unfamiliar ways." Manfred said, before gesturing for me to take my stance.
I felt hope bloom into being. No more Manfred. I could finally get some wins under my belt because whether Manfred or Ben admitted it or not, I knew I was good. I had to be. I rushed straight at my new opponent, and in a matter of seconds, found myself tasting dirt while my head rang like a bell.
"We're both going to be in for it if you just killed the Lordling" I heard Ben's voice before drifting off to unconsciousness. Note to self: Don't get too close to Morningstar wielders, those things swing unpredictably.
A/N: Do you like this time-skip style? There obviously needed to be a time-skip, and I think this method works better than just showing up a few years later. Next three up on patreon( same username as here and link in bio), support me there and read them early. Also, there's a cheeky discount available for monthly plans (public) and a secret one for yearly plans with the code- CHEEKY20 for 20% off yearly plans