Chapter Text
Laena was sitting in a chair in her room, reading a book of stories from the Free Cities, when a knock sounded at her door. Just as she looked up, it opened to reveal her mother, with a few maids behind her.
“Hello, Mother,” Laena greeted her.
“Hello, darling,” her mother responded as she quickly walked towards Laena, the maids also coming inside her room. One went over to her wardrobe and the other went over to her vanity, where she had her jewelry box. Before Laena could ask what was happening, her mother grabbed her hands, gently pulling her out of her chair. She grabbed the book from Laena’s hands, placed a bookmark from the table in it, and set it down.
“What-“ Laena started, taken aback at her mother’s uncharacteristic actions.
“The King is calling for a Small Council meeting, one that includes his family,” Mother said, face and voice inscrutable.
Laena’s heart dropped. She could guess why King Viserys wanted this meeting.
Please let it be just to announce a betrothal, she prayed as her mother led her over to her wardrobe. Please please please, she mentally begged as she silently watched her mother and the maid pick out a more suitable dress. The one they landed on was the dress she had worn at her fourteenth name day celebration only a month ago. It was a mid-tone blue, matched with a silver underskirt and undersleeves. She was silent as the maid helped her take off the dress she had gotten dressed in that morning. She was silent as her mother guided her to her vanity and picked through the pieces of jewelry that had been laid out. Laena reached out and grabbed the necklace she had received from her parents two namedays ago. It was a silver necklace that had a sapphire pendant hanging from it in the middle. Delicate silver chains were attached to the main necklace that had little pearls dangling from them. Laena loved that necklace; if she was going to have to go to this meeting, she wanted to do it wearing something she loved. She was already wearing earrings-another old name day gift, this time from her Uncle Vaemond and Aunt Marei for her tenth name day. They were dangling earrings, a piece of smooth blue sea glass wrapped in silver wire made up each one. Laena smiled as she remembered what the other part of her Uncle’s gift to her had been: getting to be his second in command on his ship for a day. She had very much enjoyed that day.
Her smile died as her mother finished fastening the necklace around her neck.
“Is there anything else you want to wear?” her mother quietly asked her. Laena shook her head.
Silence permeated the room as they stared at each other in the mirror.
Why, Laena wanted to ask, wanted to scream. Why are you making me Queen? I don’t want to be Queen.
She said nothing.
Mother’s mouth opened for a moment, then closed, her lips pressed tightly together. She sighed, then bent to kiss the top of Laena’s head.
“I love you, darling,” she whispered.
“I love you, too,” Laena answered, her voice even quieter than her mother’s.
They sat in silence again for a moment before her mother drew in a breath. “We ought to go now,” she said, though this time Laena could detect a slight tremble in her voice.
She wondered how her mother felt about this. Before, she had thought that her mother supported her father’s bid to wed her to the King. And while Laena didn’t think that she was being forced to go along with it, her telling Laena that being Queen would be a good thing and an honor told her enough of her mother’s position on the matter, she was beginning to ponder exactly how much her mother supported her prospective marriage.
Laena followed her mother out of her room, and they met her father in the drawing room. Her parents were dressed in matching dark blues, wave patterns stitched onto her father’s doublet and the outline of Meleys on her mother’s bodice, both in black thread. Both had jewelry on; rings for her father, and a bracelet and necklace for her mother. They looked regal together, candle light shining off of their jewels and her mother’s dark hair. Laenor wasn’t there, as he was back at Driftmark, continuing to learn how to man a ship.
Laena felt a surge of jealousy as she thought about her brother. Her father had taught her the basics of sailing, but it was Laenor who would tell her all of the more detailed things that he had learned that day, both about sailing and his one-on-one lessons with Father about being Lord of the Tides. She wished she was able to attend the same lessons and go on ships like her brother. She wished she was back home in High Tide.
“Laena, dear,” her father said, silently appraising her dress, and, finding it suitable, smiled at her.
Laena curtsied. “Father.”
“Remember, daughter, this is a great honor to our House. Act appropriately after the announcement,” Lord Velaryon reminded her. She mentally rolled her eyes; she knew that. Outwardly, though, she silently nodded, playing the part of the perfect daughter, no matter how much she longed to run away back home.
She and her parents silently walked out of their room and down the hallway. Laena stayed next to her mother, resisting the urge to grab her hand like she was four, not four-and-ten. As they approached the door of the Small Council chamber, Ser Rickard Thorne and Ser Willis Fell opened the door and bowed to them as they entered the room.
Laena could see that they were the last people to arrive. The King, the Lord Hand, Grand Maester Mellos, Lord Beesbury, Lord Strong, Ser Harrold Westerling, and Prince Daemon were all sitting at the table, the glass orbs that marked their attendance all sitting in their places in front of them, except for her father’s blue one that sat in a tray in the middle of the table. Lady Alicent and Princess Rhaenyra were standing near the back of the room quietly talking. Rhaenyra looked upset and Alicent looked as though she was trying to comfort her. Her father walked over to his seat, grabbed the marble from the tray, and placed it in the holder in front of his seat as he sat down. Laena’s mother guided them over to stand beside her father’s chair. Rhaenyra moved to stand off to her father’s right side and Alicent went to stand next to her husband.
Please let this be a betrothal announcement, please let this be a betrothal announcement, please let this be a betrothal announcement, please, please, please
King Viserys cleared his throat. “Good morrow, my lords and ladies. I thank you all for coming here this morning. After much thought and deliberation, I have decided to take a new wife.”
Oh gods, please
Her mother’s hand tightened on her shoulder.
The King looked in her direction and she tried to school her face. “I intend to marry the Lady Laena Velaryon before spring’s end.”
Laena wanted to cry.
“I intend to marry the Lady Laena Velaryon before spring’s end.”
Rhaenyra had known this was coming. She had known her father was probably going to marry Laena since she had first seen them walking in the gardens two months ago. She had known her father was going to remarry when he asked her opinion (though, had he really? She had just said what she knew was expected of her) on it. Seven Hells, she had known it was coming when a meeting of the Small Council was called out of the blue and when Alicent had accompanied Daemon.
But she was still floored. She hadn’t expected it to happen so soon. Mother hasn’t been dead for a year.
Rhaenyra distantly registered the words coming from the men of the Small Council; congratulations, no doubt. She saw Laena’s face drop, before she composed herself, though she drew closer to her mother, as if trying to hide. She jumped when she felt a hand on her shoulder, quickly turning around to see Alicent looking at her with a worried expression.
She wrenched her shoulder out of her aunt’s grip before she could say anything. She stood still for a moment, anger bubbling up inside her. Rhaenyra stormed out to the sounds of congratulations and her aunt’s worried words. She marched down the hall, the clink of armor sounding behind her as a Kingsguard hurried behind her. She ignored it, marching towards the stables. Rhaenyra didn’t want to be in the Red Keep right now. She didn’t want to talk to people; she wanted to be with Syrax, the only one she felt hadn’t let her down in some way.
Rhaenyra hopped off her horse, a grey mare she had named Misty after her mother’s tales of the Mountains of the Moon. She paused only to give her horse a few pats, then hurried into the Dragonpit, ignoring the dragonkeepers’ bows and greetings, and hurried into Syrax’s cave. Her dragon raised her head as Rhaenyra entered, and blew some smoke in greeting. She rumbled as Rhaenyra pressed her face into her neck, savoring the dragon’s warmth. She stood there for a minute or two, gently stroking Syrax’s scales as she gently continued rumbling. A few tears dripped down her face as she moved away from Syrax. She then walked further into the cave, dropping to her knees next to Syrax’s belly and cuddled up next to her. Syrax semi-curled up around her and continued her version of purring. More tears dripped down Rhaenyra’s face.
She didn’t understand why her father was remarrying, let alone to Laena. She was Rhaenys’ daughter, yes, and had her own claim to the Iron Throne, but she was also a year younger than Rhaenyra herself. Would she be expected to have children as soon as she married? She shivered at the thought. Rhaenyra was terrified of the thought of giving birth. Of dying like her mother and grandmothers. Would Laena not feel the same?
And if her father had more children…
There was every chance that one of them would be a boy. A boy who everyone would expect to be named Prince of Dragonstone and become King. Her father had always wanted a son to succeed him. Mother had died for it. Why wouldn’t he name a son his heir?
Rhaenyra heard footsteps approaching Syrax’s cave. She ignored them, assuming they belonged to either a dragonkeeper or Ser Rickard Thorne, who had been the Kingsguard who accompanied her. They paused at the entrance, and Syrax huffed at the person, smoke curling from her nostrils and a growl rumbling in her throat.
“Lykiri,” her uncle’s voice rang out. Rhaenyra raised her head to see him standing a few paces back from the entrance.
“Go away,” she muttered, burying her face back into Syrax’s scales.
“Rhaenyra,” he sighed.
Her anger surged. “Did Father send you?” she spat.
“No,” he replied, unbothered by the venom in her voice. That only infuriated her further. Daemon was well-known for his temper; why was he being so calm? Why was she the only one angry?!
She turned to him. “Why are you so…” she gestured wildly in his direction, “so calm?!”
“I’m not.”
“Yes, you are!!”
“It’s not you I’m mad at, Rhaenyra,” he snapped.
She glared at him for a moment, then turned her face back into Syrax’s belly. None of them said anything further. The silence was heavy.
“Rhaenyra…” her uncle sighed. “I know you’re angry-”
“Of course I’m angry!” she snapped, turning to face him again.
He opened, then closed his mouth.
“Why are you here?” she muttered.
“Why would I not?” he asked, taking a couple of steps closer to the cave’s entrance.
“...I feel alone,” she whispered, voice barely audible.
“You’re not,” he said softly. “Your aunt and I support you. Your father loves you, even if he’s currently being a-an idiot.”
She snorted when she heard him changing what he was about to call her father.
“Your cousins love you. They’re worried about you, too,” he added.
“Do they know?” she asked quietly, unwilling to say the words.
“Not yet, but they know you’re not at the Red Keep,” he explained.
“Is Father mad?” she asked after a moment.
“I don’t know. Probably not, and even if he was, he won’t be for long.”
“You don’t know?”
“I left the meeting a little bit after you did,” he clarified.
“Ah.”
“Do you want to go back?” he asked her after a couple minutes.
She thought for a moment, stroking Syrax’s scales. “Fine,” she said, standing up on stiff legs. She gave Syrax a couple more scratches on her head, then walked towards the entrance of the cave. She and her uncle walked quietly down the hallways of the Dragonpit until they reached the large open space at the front of the massive building.
“You don’t want to go see Caraxes?” she asked suddenly.
“I already did,” he answered, smiling a bit.
She nodded in acknowledgement. They continued their silent walk to the great doors of the Dragonpit, giving their goodbyes to the dragonkeepers as they went.
Rhaenyra sheepishly smiled at Ser Rickard, who was standing at the doors. “I apologize for running off like that.”
He raised an eyebrow at her, though the corner of his mouth twitched up. “I don’t believe it’s me you should apologize to, Princess.”
“I know.”
She really didn’t want to talk to her father for a while.
The three of them walked out of the Dragonpit towards their horses, who were being cared for by a few other dragonkeepers. They each mounted their horse, and started to head back to the Red Keep.
As they rode, Rhaenyra was deep in thought. Surely everything would be fine. Surely her father had realized the problems that could happen if Laena had a son. Surely he had a plan for that. Maybe he wasn’t planning to have children with her.
Yes, surely.
Why would he endanger her claim to the Iron Throne when he had explicitly made it so that she would be Queen one day?
Laena lay curled up in a ball on her bed, numb. She had wanted so badly to cry earlier, had felt tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. But she had had to blink them back, smile at the King and Small Council, and pretend that she was happy that she would be Queen soon. She had ignored Rhaenyra storming out of the room, ignored how much she wanted to do the same, had ignored Lady Alicent’s sad, sympathetic gaze, had ignored Prince Daemon silently slipping out of the room, no doubt after the Princess, had ignored the appraising looks the members of the Small Council had given her and the way their eyes flickered between her parents and the King.
Laena had accepted their congratulations with a pasted on smile and burning eyes. Her and her parents had finally left the room after what seemed like forever. They had walked down the hallways of the Red Keep silently like before, though now her father wore a proud smirk, his pride evident in the way he walked. Her mother too was proud, though she was more reserved than her father. Laena had held her head high, both because she was unwilling to have rumors concerning her swirling about and because she knew that she would be scolded if she didn’t. When they reached their suite of rooms, her father had ushered her into his office and promptly launched into a speech about honoring one's family, doing one's duty, and other similar topics that Laena already knew, thank you very much.
Not that she’d said such a thing. Instead, Laena had nodded silently at appropriate times and looked attentive, even though she was only half listening. After the lecture was finally done, Laena had quietly gone to her room, rejecting her mother’s offer to sit with her.
And now that she was finally alone, when she could finally cry in peace, she found that the tears would not come. Laena wanted to cry, wanted to give into the sadness and the fear that had wrapped around her, trying to pull her down.
But she couldn’t.
So instead, she buried her face in her pillow and wished that she was back home. That she was with her brother and her cousins and her aunts and uncles. That she could play on the beaches of Driftmark and wander the halls of High Tide. That she could play on her father’s and uncles’ and cousins’ ships and visit the markets of Hull and Spicetown. That she could be a carefree girl, instead of the future Queen.