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He stepped into the ground from the port of King's Landing, and discovered his head from the cap of his cloak, revealing white, long, and tangled hair; he didn't fear being recognized by the people in the city or any place, here or there... not anymore.
At each step, he saw the emaciated faces of the citizens of the capital, which looked like the Dance of the Dragons had thrust into the souls of the ones who lived it... hurting them, killing them, metaphorically and literally. No one looked forward, and whoever did it, showed a lost seeing, one that was focused on nothing or something that would look like an abyss, their eyes were empty holes. The famine, despair, and the pain of a war, had bruised what was once a busy place, even though, it seemed as if a fog settled over the city and overshadowed it, making it darker, scarier, and sadder.
Laenor felt their sorrow, remembering hearing the news that made him collapse while he was in Essos. "The usurping King has killed the Queen-who-never-was, but she did not go alone to the Great Other, she took the impostor´s dragon and both of his brothers". He still feels the phantom tears on his face as he thinks of his mother’s passing, and how desolate his father would be, how sad his children would be.
The Dance of Dragons had involved all of Westeros, not just the two factions,-black and green,- but also the allied houses of each one and anyone who lived in the continent, they suffered from burned-out cities to mass looting. He still remembers how the bards recounted the shouting of those who were caught in flames.
The crown was not only in danger of being taken away by the remanent traitors but the ones it governed, who could reveal themselves to such actions of which they were victims. In the canteens of the Free Cities, he listened as everyone said how Westeros would be better if the Black Queen also died, after all, her crown had been easily usurped. Laenor remembers fighting some brawls after such comments were made, but then, the guilt tormented him, he had been the one who had abandoned them, who left them.
Laenor always comfort himself by saying that he had left his family in capable hands to care for his little children and that was the wisest decision regarding their safety. Still, he regretted not having been able to say goodbye to his sweet Lucerys and caress one last time those unruly curls, or to hug his brave Jacaerys before leaving and kissing his small face, and even sniff one last time the newborn smell of his little Joffrey, and tickle his baby feet.
All his way to Red Keep, he turned to the sky, waiting to hear the roars of the dragons of the black faction, eager to see the pearlescent scales of Arrax, or hear the screech of Vermax; also he wondered if Tyraxes would be large enough for Joffrey, and he will follow in the footsteps of his brothers in the air. But all he heard was the galloping of horses, the crying of hungry women and children, the overwhelming bustle of the city, and the heavy clash of shoes on the stone.
He reached the door of the Castle, but the guards stopped him abruptly.
"Get out of here, peasant, you cannot pass". The man shouted in armor carrying a banner of the Targaryen house.
"I am Laenor Velaryon". He exclaimed, raising his hands in peace.
He heard the whispers of the people around him, as they make sounds of disbelief and amazement. He didn't blame them. His body was supposed to have been thrown down a ravine of Driftmark into the sea, lying next to his late sister.
Submerged in his thoughts he did not notice how his father, the still-standing Lord of Driftmark, approached limping on one leg, with watery eyes, and ashy skin, perhaps from illness, perhaps from old age, or maybe because of the war.
They hugged, he doesn’t really know how long was it, but was enough to feel the tears on his clothes, and realize that his father has trembled.
Since he was a kid, he doesn't remember had never seen him flank, even though his sister had departed, when she was called by the Valyrian gods; the man stand imposing and upright; his gaze could be distressed, yes, but he was never seen shedding any tears. Some sailors used to say that Corlys Velaryon had to pay a price for being at sea for so long and always going away safe and sound, saying that the tides had demanded in return the salty waters of his own body, taking away the possibility of crying.
That day, he knew it wasn't true, and Laenor felt more guilty, because, of course, he had left his children protected, but his parents were left alone. He remembered his mother again when the Sea Serpent whispered her name, and at that moment both cried hard, feeling the air drain between each other, and how his head ached from the effort; he would have liked to have something like this with his mother, but now, he only could do it in his sleep.
When both got separated, Laenor turned to look over his father’s shoulder, towards the esplanade of the castle, hoping that perhaps, his offspring had heard the commotion and had gotten close... but nothing happened, nobody came. He only saw the passing of the soldiers with lost glances, bruised faces, and tired gestures.
He look at his father and saw how he gasped a couple of times, as if he wanted to tell him something, but he couldn't, because hesitated every time a sound came out of his mouth and his eyes filled with tears again, shaking even more.
"I need to see Rhaenyra and my children". Laenor tried to walk away, and felt his father’s hand cling to his, now, the tears running out of control. He was confused and he wanted to ask, but a golden cloak had asked him to follow. Their Queen has heard how who had once been "dead", Laenor Velaryon, was alive and well. His hand was released by his father, but still, his gaze disturbed him. His sire looked at him with a sadness deeper than the sea and that frightened him.
Quietly he followed the guard who escorted him until they reached the throne room, where, who had once been his wife, was seated. Stiff, with the palest face he had seen in the woman, he could notice that she had lost weight, and her hair lost its shine. Her eyes seemed sad, tired, and even dead, no longer flashing as they had been in her youth. Her impassive face, with too many marked and hard features, lacked an expression, she hadn't even flinched to see him pass through the gates.
He blamed it on the war.
Next to the queen, was the same old Daemon Targaryen, whose not only age had passed through his face, but that new battles had left a mark, his purple eyes seemed to be darker, dead, the same as the Queen´s.
He really underestimated the damage the war had left in its wake.
"My Queen, I swear my allegiance to you, your crown, and your reign". He knelt.
Then he heard how the woman asked everyone to go, except for her, Laenor, or Daemon. Surprised, he still wondered why his children had not been called, maybe they would be angry, or maybe the queen was protecting them from him, but right now, he really need a hug from them, holding them.
He rose from his place and approached the couple. First Rhaenyra received him with open arms, and when he came to take refuge in them, he felt him being squeezed, with so much strength that the air inside his lungs was running out; from Daemon he expected a simple grip, yet he was again enclosed in a pair of arms once again.
"Where are our children, Nyra?". Laenor asked eagerly, turning to the door, hoping to see the three brown-haired kids. In response, he got a sob from the Queen, who hugged herself, trembling, and heard how Daemon was stomping, opening the door aggressively, and went out of the room slamming the door behind him.
Worried and anxious, he wanted to approach the woman, but she went away from him. Surprised and with a bad taste in his mouth and a bad feeling inside him. He left the room, with the sole purpose of looking for his kids, feeling a weight on his chest, as the air began to lack and his stomach was stirring. Despair came to him when, leaving near the Weirwood, where he knew that the once princess liked to rest, saw two children with violet eyes, pale skin, and blond hair, sitting next to their nieces Rhaena and Baela, he supposed that they were, the new Rhaenyra and Daemon´s children, but all of them weren't the children that he was looking for. Maybe Joffrey could be behind the tree, maybe he didn't remember and was scared, or maybe could be Jace, who could be angry, or Luke. But he didn't see anyone in the back.
He approached them, hoping perhaps to get answers about the whereabouts of his kids. The surprised girls murmured his name, drawing the attention of the little ones.
"Laenor? as the sire of our brothers?". Asked one of the children, he supposed the oldest. He smiled sideways, thinking that his children had kept his image alive, talking about him, with the ones who seemed to be his younger brothers. He felt a little smile, knowing that maybe Joff could recognize him, and inside the older ones there was still love for him. His hope was raised.
It should not have.
"Jacaerys and Lucerys always talked a lot about you, Uncle Laenor". Explained the other boy, excited, making Laenor smile, yes, his babies still loved him.
Laenor was barely going to ask where he could find them until he was interrupted by the other kid, who took his sister's skirt.
"Baela, if Uncle Laenor is here, and not at sea or in the care of the fourteen flames... That means Luke, Jace and Joff, and their dragons are also coming back?". One of the kids asked, looking at his expectant sister who got frozen, her eyes started waterily, and look forward at the nothing. Again, the same abyss.
That stunned him. He felt the tears fall again, he felt his heart break, he wasn't hearing anymore. His breath was stuck in his throat.
Then he looked at Rhaena, who bowed to the infant, and explained to him that his brothers will never return, that now the gods cared for them, and when Balerion came for them all, they would see them again.
His children, his babies, the ones, who look straight into his eyes, and called him father; the ones that when they were scared went to him; the ones who took his finger as babies, the ones who always wanted to be carried by him and asked for kisses when they were sick.
The ones he abandoned.
They had died, and he could never say goodbye.
He would never see them again, he would never hug them again, and he did not know how they looked, what were their hobbies, their dreams, their fears.
The war had definitely taken a lot from him, and he hadn’t known.
He feel the vomit go up his throat, and purged everything, he also wanted his pain to go away with it. His head hurt so much and felt how a giant rock fell upon him.
He ran away from there, seeing in the hallways the ghost of his kids, seeing him, shouting at him.
"You didn't save us", "You abandon us", "You betray us", "You didn't love us", "You swear to protect us", "You let us die", "Daddy, hurts, hurts so much, make it stop", "Father I'm scared", "Please", "Liar", "Liar", "LIAR".
He covered his ears trying to stop the sounds, still hearing the sound of their crying. The tears run like a river and felt the blood through his fingers as how he hard was squeezing his skin.
Then he had stopped at what had once been Jacaerys' chambers,-who did not mind accommodating his little brother in days of storm, cold, fear, or boredom-. With its childish decoration, he look at how his blurry memories filled the room and consequently he fell onto his knees, hugging, crying, punching the floor until his knuckles were bloody, and at the end he started screaming.
He shout out so much that the guards came to his aid, but stopped as they saw him swinging still on the floor. Clutching his eldest son’s cloak, his middle son’s favorite toy made by him, and his youngest baby blanket.
He felt the doors open and how someone knelt beside him.
Rhaenyra and Corlys cried meanwhile hugged him and accompanied him in his pain.
Now he understand because all had lost the brightness of their eyes.
His pearls were broken.
His children had died because of a battle that was supposed not to happen.
He tried to protect them from that, and in the end, he pushed them to it.
Even if he didn't take part in the war it took everything from him.