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Laenor had grieved for his sister, but he did not get the chance to stay with the mourners for long. His son was sick, and someone had to stay with him, otherwise Lucerys would not sleep, crying out in low raspy voice for his parents. Rhaenyra had to be out there due to her position as heir, so Laenor offered to stay with him for the night after the funeral. There wasn’t much to do otherwise anyways, and at least this way, he would still have something to do.
Rhaenyra had frequently visited both of them again and again through the day, each time leaving a kiss on Luke’s head with a promise to spend time with him as soon as she got the time. His eldest had also visited his brother with his cousins, having left a seashell with a pearl with him to divert his attention. Laena’s daughters haven’t said much, too lost in their grief, nevertheless they had still looked at Luke with a curiosity.
It was almost middle of the night. Lucerys had long lost his fight with slumber and was snoring lightly, while Laenor had almost nodded off when a Velaryon guard burst in the room, jolting him to awareness.
“My Lord,” the guard took large gulps of air as if he had run a long distance. “Prince Jacaerys!”
He snapped to attention. “What? What happened to him?”
“The Maester is looking over him.”
Any mention of sleep left him at such words. He hurried behind the man, almost running towards the healing chambers, panicking internally. It was Driftmark; none of the children would be without guards. What could happen at this time?
Turns out, a lot.
Jace’s entire head looked bloodied. When cleaned, a large gash was revealed on his temple, along with a severely bruised eye. Laenor almost retched when the Maester told him that even if the little prince was breathing, there was a slim chance that he would wake up.
For all purposes, his son was dead. He may live with prolonged care, but when his body gives up, he will pass away in this eternal sleep.
It felt like he was under water, as he couldn’t breathe. Someone was shaking him, but he couldn’t respond. How could this happen? He had just seen Jacaerys a few hours ago, a bright little boy who had promised his brother that they would go search for sea shells together as soon as he felt better. There were guards trailing them around all the time. Who would do this to his son?
He seized the guard in the room. “What happened? Who did this to him?” he growled.
The man trembled, but shakingly narrated the entire sequence of events. Of Vhagar being claimed, insults thrown, threats being made, children fighting, and beaten down with their protectors not lifting a hand to stop them until it was too late.
Laenor was not like his family. He had known that his entire life.
Too calm. Too peaceful. A coward. A freak.
He was surrounded by powerful figures. His mother, Laena, Rhaenyra. Hell, even his father was more of a dragon than Laenor was, and he wasn’t even a dragon rider or had Targaryen blood!
He had struggled to fit in his family for his entire life. He could pretend him preferring the company of his own sex was the thing that set him apart from his blood, but sometimes, it was hard. Hard to blame all of his shortcomings on his preferences. For all that he was a dragon, he had never felt like one.
But not today. Right now, it felt like a fire was roaring inside him.
The dragon is awake. And it will not stop until it gets fire and blood.
“And where is Ser Laenor? Should he not be here to answer for his son’s actions?”
“I am here.” A voice sounded out as the doors rattled with the force they were opened with. Everyone turned to look at the man standing at the threshold.
Laenor also looked around, carefully observing the occupants of the place. He may have felt like a dragon at the moment, but he was also a fighter. His first instinct was to scope out all the potential weaknesses of his opponents before the fight could even start. And the room was filled with his enemies.
Laena’s daughters were hiding behind Rhaenyra, clutching her dress with obvious fear. Daemon was also standing near her, but he was facing the Queen’s murderous guard dog, clutching his sword tightly. His parents were on the other side, whereas the King was at the front of the hall accompanied by his Hand. The King’s other children sans Aemond were in the separate corner, whereas the murderous brat was sitting in a chair looked over by a Maester and his mother. Everyone else not related to royal family were fanned out across the place. It took him just one moment to take all of this information in.
Rhaenyra looked at him, question obvious in her eyes. “Lucerys?” she inquired. Laenor shook his head tensely. The child was safe, tucked in his room and guarded by four loyal seaguards. He was not going to take anymore chances with the rest of his children.
“Well, I am here. What is it that you wanted to question me about?”
The Queen had obviously worked herself up in a righteous rage. She opened her mouth, and out came the most outrageous, entitled speech he had ever heard in his life. His son should answer for attacking her son? The beastling who, at age one and ten, obviously trained in handling weapons, had battered two girls of eight and attempted to kill a boy of only seven?
“Your son should answer for his dishonest actions!”
“Sure,” Laenor agreed, rocking on his heals, “he would answer. After I take the head of beast you parade as your son for killing him.”
Rhaenyra gasped behind him, and everyone stood to attention. The King cleared his throat.
“What do you mean by that, Ser Laenor? Do you know it is treason to threaten the children of King?”
“I am more than aware of what I am saying, Your Grace. And I have no intention to take back any of my words.”
Rhaenyra had by this time reached him, clutching his arms tightly. “Jacaerys?” she inquired in a plaintive voice, dreading his reply. He blinked his eyes, trying his best to not let any tears spill in front of his enemies.
“He lives, but barely” he whispered. “Maesters are saying that he took a blunt hit by a rock on his head. We are lucky that he had not lost his eye, but the head injuries he sustained would render him to sleep. He may never wake up.”
His wife staggered back, clearly hit by grief. Daemon caught her, while the Queen stood in shock. Everyone else tensed. Finally, the queen broke it.
“But he still lives, right?”
He snorted. “Sure, he lives. If by living you mean that he would waste away before he could even reach to his adulthood, laying on the bed, unaware of everything going around him, then yes, he lives.”
The queen flinched at his cold reply, as if he had hit her, obviously rattled by what she had heard by now. Her wretched father, the root of all the evils that Laenor had faced in his life spoke up.
“Prince Jacaerys lives, should not that be enough? And there is no guarantee that he might never wake up. All of the children have been with hurt with this incident, some time to recuperate would prove to be good.”
“And let your beast of a grandson go without punishment? Surely not.”
The King thundered “no more bloodshed would occur under this roof! I will not tolerate it!”
Laenor squared his shoulders. “I disagree, Your Grace. This is not a knight from a lower noble bannerman that you could threaten on behalf of your wife to remain silent over their son’s death, this is the son of your heir. Someone had evidently intended to murder the heir of your heir, and is that not the highest treason anyone could commit? There is only one punishment for treason, we all know that.”
The King’s bitch of wife turned to him, screaming in his face. “Aemond is a prince of House Targaryen! No one has the authority to harm him! I will not let you do anything to him!”
“I am not asking your permission to let me. I am telling you that this treason will not go unpunished.”
From the corner of his eye, he observed how his father had subtly summoned loyal Velaryon guards during the entire conversation. All of them had surrounded the entire hall without letting anyone be aware of it. Laenor was thankful, because he did had no intention of letting anyone out of this place until he got what he wanted.
The child in question had hunched inwards more and more. If Jace was not laying down back in the healing chambers, all the color leached out from his complexion, he might have sympathized with him. As it was, he clearly knew that the beast was just like his mother. They could commit all the crimes they wanted in the world, whether it was whoring themselves to others for power or protecting murderers or becoming murderers themselves, but they would still try to come out smelling like roses after committing all the shit.
The beast was as murderous as his mother. If Laenor had his way, he would make sure that the boy would never be able to lift his hand to pick a weapon, forget about riding a dragon.
“You come in here in on my sister’s funeral parading in your hideous green, desecrating our halls. Disrespecting the traditions, disrespecting our blood, disrespecting our grief, for what? Your son came waltzing in, claiming the dragon when not even a day had passed for my sister’s children to come to terms with her death. All of this for what?” he swallowed his bile in revulsion at the color of their garments. “Your petty fights? The political statements that you like to make that you are in open war with the King’s heir? How many times have you trespassed on the authority and station of my wife, her father and my children? Is that not a treason? Should you not have been punished for that? Why is it that my son should answer for his actions when your murderous son goes scot free?”
The queen was nervous, but she still had a job of hiding it. “I have never done anything you are blaming me of, Ser Laenor. Your grief is clouding your judgment.”
He hissed. “Is it? Would you also deny that your son called my son a bastard while battering him and my nieces? Would you also deny that he threatened to burn them just like their father will? Say it! I dare you to deny it!”
This was more alarming to others, which in hindsight, was funny for Laenor. Noise erupted as the King coldly interrogated his son where he might have heard that. The blame game went on, everyone blaming another in the green brood. Laenor would have laughed if he didn’t feared that it would turn into crying. His son was essentially dead, and here they were, discussing the lineage of his sons rather than discussing the ramifications of their actions.
His wife had at some point gained her composure, adding in her voice to punish the green prince for the murder attempt on her son, but it was clear that she needed more time. The queen went on another tirade, but Rhaenyra was not even looking at her. She was looking at her father pleadingly. Laenor’s father had obviously added his own voice, along with his mother, but Laenor knew nothing would come of it. The King was no dragon, and yet he continued on disrespecting his family, his blood for years like it was his god given right. He looked on coldly, already aware what would come of his mouth.
And come it did. Laenor did not know whether he should laugh at the fact that he was right or if he should be just plain disappointed that King has made such decision.
“We will wait for Prince Jacaerys to wake up. I will order the Maesters to find a cure for him. Meanwhile, Prince Aemond would be banished from the court and sent off to foster under the family of a Lord Paramount, which will be decided upon our return to Kings Landing. This matter ends right here.”
That will not change what was to come. Laenor had enough. If he wanted his family to be safe and protected, the King has to go, along with his Hightower family.
At his subtle gesture, his father spoke up.
“With all due respect, Your Grace, that is not enough.”
“He is my son, surely you do not expect me to do more than that!”
“If you had sent him to the wall, we could have accepted that.”
The Queen was not to remain silent for long.
“He is being banished from the court, Lord Velaryon! That is more than enough punishment.”
“Silence!” Corlys Velaryon roared, rendering everyone silent. “I should have had you killed the day you slithered into King’s chamber like a whore! Or the day when he insulted us for you.”
“Enough Father,” Laenor spoke up, stopping his father from advancing on the woman. “It’s no use speaking to her. All of us know that the she will continue to take liberties on our expense, and the King will remain to be a cunt struck man who would let it happen.”
Everyone spluttered. The King was obviously enraged.
“Have care when you speak of me, Ser Laenor! I am your King!”
“You do not behave like a King when it is needed.” Laenor shot back. “Be honest, your majesty, where exactly am I wrong? Is it not true that you let your wife spread whispers of my sons being bastards in the court? Or that you forgave every provocation that she dealt to my wife?
She wears Hightower green, calling her banners to war, yet we all know that calling for war without King’s permission is an open treason? And she does it not against any ordinary man; she does it against your appointed heir. She gathers allies to plant her son as the usurper, and yet you do nothing to stop her. She had you pardoned a murderer and have that same man retain as not only her shield, but also your Kingsgurad on our expense, as we had to pacify the Lonmouths, not you. You didn’t even bother asking if his family asked for the blood price or not, did you? That same man gets to harm my children without any consequences each and every day, and damn anyone who stops him. And today, just hours earlier, she did not even had the sense to even pretend that she was mourning, dressing herself in that blasted Hightower green!
You and your wife continue to insult my family again and again, but enough is enough. Daemon,” he turned towards the Prince. “If you value your children’s life and Rhaenyra’s, then take them to Maester’s chambers.”
The man narrowed his eyes, but only took a split second to make his decision, and ushered his daughters and the Princess. Rhaenyra put up a token protest, but didn’t do much as she shuffled along with him. As soon as the door closed, Laenor and Corlys sprang into action.
“Seaguards! Arrest everyone dressed in Hightower green! Escort the King to his chambers and allow no one to enter! Do the same with the queen and her children! Throw the rest in the cells. And if anyone tries to escape, cut them down right there and then.”
Pure chaos erupted at Laenor’s orders. Corlys also barked his own commands. The King struggled to get up, but he was firmly grabbed and escorted out. The queen on the other hand, screamed at the top of her lungs trying to reach her children, but Velaryon guards reached them first. Ser Cole tried to cut Laenor, so he met the man head on, but it was getting difficult to parry his thrusts when to his surprise, the Lord Commander Ser Harrold hit the man from the back, letting him crumple. Laenor was surprised, but soon recovered and nodded in gratitude.
By the time the struggle had ended, two Kingsgurads had died, and rest had sustained some injuries. The entire Hightower family was locked up securely, all of their personal guards had been slain on the spot. Father had sent someone to deal with the rest of the lords that had come for the funeral, with strict orders to deal no harm to anyone except the Hightower lackeys.
His mother stood still, shocked at their actions. “What have you done?” She whispered. Laenor squared his shoulders.
“What someone should have done years ago. I regret nothing.”
What they had done was treason. Yet, Laenor had never felt more peaceful.
In hindsight, it would not have been easy had his father would not been an ambitious man and prepared for the worst case scenario. It also helped that due to Laena’s funeral, security was already high in the Driftmark, so subduing the rest of the lords was incredibly easy.
The King was sick, and he couldn’t rule anymore. Why prolong his suffering?
So they wrestled out an abdication agreement for the man. Rhaenyra had put up a token protest, but all they had needed to do was to remind her of Jacaerys. It didn’t help that Luke had recovered from fever, but had been inconsolable ever since he learned of his brother. With them settled down, Daemon hadn’t put up any protest either.
They had been working nonstop to nip any unrest that might occur in the bud. That was harder, but Corlys Velaryon was working to root out all the Hightower supporters from their home as well as Kings Landing. Money helped, and so did Daemon’s mercenary contacts. In the meanwhile, Laenor took pleasure in torturing and slowly killing all the guards that were supposed to be protect the children.
The hardest thing was to deal with the Queen and her children. Otto Hightower was already accused of assassinating Lyonel Strong to clear his way to become a Hand. They had wanted to try the man on trumped up charges, but the investigation had let them to the real killer. And from there, torture took care of the rest. It was also easier that Larys Strong had not established a firm enough support circle yet. More than that, all of it would not have happened if the infamous bastard of Harrenhal, Alys had not helped them in exchange for getting the ladyship of Harrenhal.
Alicent Hightower would not get any hospitality that should be given to any noble woman. They were content to throw her in the black cells under the same charges of treason as her father, who had to give his life to atone for his sins. As for the children…
In interim, they decided to “foster” the green children at Driftmark. They hesitated about making a decision about their final fate, not comfortable beyond neutralizing the threat. If they became a threat in the future, they would be dealt with accordingly. As for now, they would let the matter rest, except for the second son of Viserys Targaryen.
Daemon had made sure that the boy had taken his first and last flight on a dragon. There was no chance they could have let a threat like him, as the rider of Vhagar, go free.
Laenor had left most of the details to his family. As soon as Arrax grew large enough to support the weight of Lucerys, Laenor embarked on his voyage along with his son and Qarl for the sake of his eldest. He had never gone on a voyage before, and he wanted to do so right now, to find a cure for his eldest. Maybe he will never find anything to help Jacaerys, or maybe he would. It was his responsibility to try. Anything for his son.