The year 120 After Conquest was fated to be one of sorrow.
Laena Velaryon's death was the first tragedy of that ill-starred year, yet far from the last.
The tension that had long festered among the great houses of the realm, suspicion born of ambition, pride, and grief, at last bore bitter fruit. Many would come to know pain beyond measure.
None more so than Lord Corlys Velaryon, the Sea Snake, and his wife, Princess Rhaenys Targaryen, the Queen Who Never Was.
Before King Viserys could find a proper moment to revisit the question of betrothals with Queen Alicent and Lord Corlys, calamities struck one after another.
Not long after Laena's passing, while her parents still mourned her beside the sea, the Stranger claimed their only son.
Ser Laenor Velaryon was slain in the market square of Spicetown, cut down by his companion, Ser Qarl Correy.
When Lord Corlys rushed to gather his son's body, witnesses swore the two men had quarreled fiercely before coming to blows.
Correy fled the scene, wounding several who tried to stop him. Some claimed a ship waited for him offshore; others said he leapt into the waves himself. Whatever the truth, Ser Qarl vanished without a trace.
Rumors multiplied like flies. Some whispered that Prince Daemon had arranged the murder, that he paid the killer, then silenced him.
Corlys offered a reward of ten thousand gold dragons for any word of Ser Qarl's whereabouts, but none came forward.
And thus ended the second tragedy of that dreadful year.
The third would touch the King himself.
After Laenor's funeral, Viserys did not return to King's Landing, but remained on Driftmark to comfort Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys. For many days he dined with them, spoke softly, and tried in vain to soothe wounds that could not heal.
At the month's end, the King called a family feast. Princes, princesses, and all their kin were invited, even Prince Daemon.
When the goblets were filled, Viserys rose and spoke.
"We are the blood of Old Valyria," he declared, voice carrying across the hall. "We need fear no foe from without. The only force that can destroy us is strife among our own blood."
Prince Aegon, seated beside Queen Alicent, expected the usual plea for unity. What came next silenced the hall.
"To bind our houses more closely," said Viserys, "I propose that Princess Helaena wed Prince Jacaerys, and that Prince Aegon take Lady Baela to wife. What say you all?"
The words fell like a hammer. Faces darkened and whispers rippled.
Queen Alicent was first to speak. Her voice was sharp as broken glass.
"This is madness. I will not agree! I will never allow Helaena to marry a boy who cannot govern even himself."
At her side, Helaena trembled. Beneath the table, her small hand clutched Aegon's so tightly her knuckles turned white.
Aegon gave her fingers a gentle squeeze, his eyes telling her not to fear.
Across the table, Alicent's gaze sought Rhaenyra and Corlys. The princess sat in silence, studying her father. The Sea Snake's eyes flickered, uncertain.
At last, Rhaenyra spoke.
"It shall be as my father wills."
Once, her strength had lain in dragons. In 118 AC, eight had stood with her, Syrax, Seasmoke, Meleys, Vhagar, Vermax, Arrax, Tyraxes, and Moondancer.
Now, all was changed.
Vhagar had passed to the Greens. Seasmoke's rider was dead. Two dragons lost, and the balance with them. Syrax had never known battle, and the young dragons were scarcely grown. Only Meleys was fit to fight.
Meanwhile, Aegon's name had spread through the realm, and Rhaenyra could feel her father's crown slipping further from reach.
If Jacaerys could be wed to Helaena, and Baela to Aegon, perhaps the bloodline might mend itself, perhaps war could yet be averted.
King Viserys turned to Corlys.
Baela was the Sea Snake's granddaughter, and she heeded her grandsire more than her father, Daemon. The match, then, would rest on Corlys's word.
Conflict flickered behind the old lord's eyes, but he soon straightened and said,
"The marriage between Jacaerys and Baela was agreed upon long ago. Would it not seem… unseemly to undo it now?"
It was a courteous refusal, but refusal nonetheless.
Corlys knew the truth of Rhaenyra's sons as well as any. He prized names over blood, yet if the chance arose to restore Velaryon blood to both Driftmark and the Iron Throne, he would not let it pass.
Baela was Laena's trueborn daughter. If Jacaerys wed her, and Lucerys took Rhaena, the line would flow true again.
But if Jacaerys married Helaena, the Iron Throne would belong to Targaryens and Hightowers alone, and worse, to the blood of Harwin Strong. That, Corlys could not abide.
Viserys's brow furrowed.
"Why should it be unseemly?" he pressed. "By exchanging partners, we strengthen both lines. Is that not wise?"
"It is not!" Alicent snapped. "You always favor her! Is Helaena not your daughter as well?"
"How am I favoring her?" Viserys's voice rose. "Helaena's birth is as noble as Jacaerys's. He is heir to the Iron Throne, who could be more worthy?"
Alicent stared at him, disbelief giving way to contempt.
"Do you truly not see it? Have you not lied to yourself enough?"
Viserys's face darkened, then smoothed again as he forced gentleness into his tone.
"I know not what you mean. Jacaerys is a fine match for Helaena. Affection can come later, as it did for us."
Alicent drew a long breath, eyes gone cold. Whatever remained of her faith in him was gone.
He spoke of guilt toward Aegon, yet his heart's bias was plain as day.
She glanced at her son, then sat back, voice flat.
"Do as you will. I care no longer."
Viserys took her silence for surrender and turned again to Corlys.
"Lord Corlys, the betrothal was once made with your blessing," he said softly.
"And yet the vows were never spoken," Corlys replied, firm.
Viserys's patience frayed.
"Then let them be remade! When Jacaerys and Helaena are betrothed, I shall bless them myself!"
Corlys opened his mouth to protest, but Viserys cut him off with a gesture.
House Velaryon had lost Vhagar and Seasmoke, and with them, much of its strength. Viserys knew it, and pressed his advantage.
"This matter is settled," he said, voice hardening. "Understand me, Corlys, this is not a request. It is the word of your king-"
Bang-!
But the final syllable was drowned by the crack of a heavy cup striking the table.
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A/N: Things are getting really freaky… and trust me, the next chapters go off the rails. Want to know what happens? You might not want to wait.
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