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Rhaenyra shuddered as a gust of sea wind ruffled through her hair. The cold pricked at her skin and as she took a deep breath the tightness in her chest only threatened to increase as the salty air filled her lungs. Her feet were heavy as she slowly followed after her father in order to greet their Velaryon kin. Even as far back as she was, she was still able to see the reunion play out in front of her eyes. She watched her father happily greet Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys, Laenor lingering slightly behind them. She could not hear their words but she could plainly see the emotions on their faces.
Her father was pleased, Lord Corlys was smug, Princess Rhaenys seemed indifferent but had a slight smile on her face and Laenor . . .
Oh, oh that was interesting.
Rhaenyra frowned. For just a moment Laenor’s usual jovial, charming smile was replaced by a dark look of resentment and anger, directed towards his father.
She felt a spark of hope light in her chest. Perhaps all was not lost after all.
With renewed energy she walked the short distance to join her father and greet their hosts, trying to keep her face as neutral as possible. She arrived just in time to hear the end of her father’s words.
“I do believe I will require a moment to refresh myself, cousin.” Her father said to Princess Rhaenys. “The sea has never agreed with me and I’m sure the betrothal talks will go much better after some rest. Rhaenyra,” He tilted his head to speak to her, “why don’t you and Laenor go spend some time together while the rest of us settle in.”
Her father’s face is smiling, his eyes hopeful as he makes his suggestion. Before spotting Laenor’s slip she would have balked at his interference but now she gracefully accepted the opportunity to speak to Laenor in private.
“Very well, father. Perhaps, Ser Laenor, you might take me for a walk on the beach. I do not often spend much time near the sea.” She offered her cousin, whose amiable mask was firmly back in place.
“I would be delighted to offer my services, Princess.” He said gallantly as he offered his arm.
She took it lightly but turned her head to address her father before they walked away.
“Father, I would request that Ser Laenor and myself be present during the betrothal talks.”
Her father’s eyebrows rose but then the corners of his lips lifted in delight.
“What a wonderful idea, Rhaenyra! I would be most pleased to see you and Laenor join us. It would be an excellent first step in learning to work together as a couple.”
She could do nothing else but incline her head before they finally departed for their walk.
The couple was silent as they made their way to the edge of the shore. When finally Rhaenyra determined they were far enough away and unlikely to be bothered, she spoke.
“It is good to see you, cousin.” She began.
“You as well, Princess.”
“You may call me Rhaenyra. I am meant to be your wife, afterall.” She said as she watched his reaction out of the corner of her eye.
Laenor’s eyes dropped to his feet and he grit his teeth for a brief moment.
“Yes,” He said softly, “although I’m sure I am not quite the husband you would have chosen.” He said tentatively.
Rhaenyra decided this was no time to prevaricate so she spoke candidly.
“You are correct. If I had been allowed my choice it would have been my uncle as my groom.”
She stopped and they faced each other.
“You are a fine man, cousin, but I do believe I am also not what you would have chosen for yourself.” She said bluntly.
Laenor sighed. “You are correct. But my father . .” He cut himself off as he ducked his head.
“Your father and my father seem to be of the same mind, however,” She said as she ducked her head to catch his eye, “That does not mean we need to be pawns in their game.”
Laenor frowned but nodded at her to continue.
“As far as I am aware you do not . . prefer the company of . . women.” She said as tactfully as she could. “Is that correct?”
Laenors cheeks flushed but to his credit he held her gaze. “That is correct.”
Rhaenyra nodded at the confirmation.
“Laenor, tell me honestly. If we were to wed, do you think you would be able to bed me in order to sire a child?” She asked boldly.
Laenor gulped at the direct question and his shoulders hunched in a bit as she waited.
“I . . I don’t know. I have tried but I could never . .” He rubbed his neck in agitation before raising his eyes slightly. “I just don’t know.”
Rhaenyra tried to keep her tone gentle. “Cousin, I think this gamble is too high when faced with such uncertainty. I need heirs, legitimate heirs, otherwise Alicent and her supporters will easily overthrow me in favor of Aegon. My position is shaky enough as it is. I cannot risk it.”
Laenor bowed his head once more, in agreement or shame she could not tell.
“You are right. The risk is much too high, especially when I doubt I would be able to . . “ He trailed off.
Rhaenyra reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze.
“I also would never wish to force you into a union you do not desire. It is unfair to us both that they expect so much.”
She looked out at the rolling waves that very much matched the rolling of her stomach, nerves and agitation swelling high.
“Laenor, we have been put in an untenable position by those who seek to use us for their own purposes. Your father, to advance his family and mine to heal the breach he himself has caused with the Velaryons.”
Violet eyes met purple and resolves strengthened.
“Just how far are you willing to go to get out of this betrothal?” Rhaenyra asked seriously.
Laenor’s eyes grew wide before they took on a wicked gleam as a smirk filled his face.
“As far as you deem necessary, Princess.”
Rhaenyra smiled and thus the planning began.
After returning to the Keep, Rhaenyra and Laenor made their way to one of the smaller halls which was being used for privacy in order to discuss the betrothal. It seems everyone was eager to begin for they did not have to wait long before all of their parents arrived.
Rhaenyra sat impassively as her father and Lord Corlys spoke of inconsequential matters. She was content to wait until the opportune moment in order to advance their agenda. It was as soon as the subject of children was raised that she finally decided to interject, using, for a moment, the authority which she would eventually have as Queen.
“I do look forward to having grandchildren to spoil.” Her father said with a far off look as he smiled at his daughter.
Rhaenyra did her best to smother the grimace threatening to break her otherwise smooth face.
“Can I presume that, in keeping with Westerosi tradition, their children will take their father’s name; that they would be born Velaryons?” Lord Corlys said almost unassumingly.
Rhaenyra interjected quickly.
“The children’s names will obviously be Targaryen.” She said dismissively.
She said it mostly just to see what the Velaryons would say. Lord Corlys may, in theory, be getting his blood on the throne but she wasn’t about to let him live under the assumption that with this one match he would be able to supersede the Targaryen Dynasty.
Lord Corlys appeared perturbed and made to object.
“I’m not sure . .” He started before she cut him off, somewhat sharply.
“And I’m not quite sure you are ever likely to be satisfied, Lord Corlys. It seems your ambition might just be limitless. Your son is set to marry the heir to the Iron Throne. Is that not enough? Now you want your own name to take the Targaryens place in history? That is bold, even for you.” She said with an arched brow.
When put on the spot and his words given such a greedy context Lord Corlys was forced to abandon his case. He did, however, make one last caveat.
“Except for your second born who will inherit High Tide.” Lord Corlys said in a tone which meant he would not be relenting on this particular point.
“Very well.” Rhaenyra inclined her head and smiled inwardly as the moment she had been waiting for had arrived. “Now I would like to discuss who shall be fathering these potential future children. Have you a candidate in mind?” Rhaenyra asked seriously.
The room was instantly silent.
“Rhaenyra?” The King says cautiously, “Obviously it would be your husband who would father your children, Ser Laenor.” He said unnecessarily, as though she could have already forgotten.
Rhaenyra rolled her eyes with a half smile on her face.
“I am well aware of who I will be marrying, father. You made it perfectly clear he was my only option.” She said blandly and to the consternation of many in the room, to whom this was new information.
The insult to the Velaryons was felt keenly by Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys. They had been unaware of the forced nature of the betrothal.
“However,” She continued, “It has also been made clear to me that Ser Laenor, although a fine man, is not capable of fathering children. If you expect me to have heirs of my own, I will need a suitable replacement.” She said very matter of factly.
“What do you mean Ser Laenor is incapable of fathering children?!” The King says in confusion and outrage.
He turns to the Velaryon Lord and Lady with an accusing glare.
“You told me Laenor was a fine match for my daughter! Did he suffer some injury at the Stepstones?!”
Before Lord Corlys or Princess Rhaenys could even respond, Rhaenyra cut in smoothly.
“Ah yes, forgive me father, I spoke imprecisely. It is not necessarily that Ser Laenor cannot father children merely that he is incapable of bedding a woman. And since the latter is rather essential in accomplishing the former I thought I would do away with all unnecessary details. By removing any subterfuge we may then speak clearly on the matter of my future heirs.”
“Now,” She continued before any more could be said, “The man in question must look like Laenor on the off chance the children take after him and not me. He also cannot be someone from your,” She gestured to Lord Corlys,” extended family or they may try to push forward their own claim over yours. So,” She clapped her hands together, “who do you have in mind?” She asked the room.
Everyone in the room, apart from the prospective future cuckold, appeared flabbergasted by this unprecedented turn of events. Laenor, on the other hand, was in the back grinning like a fool, content to watch the performance play out in front of him.
“I . . that is . .” Lord Corlys stuttered.
“Oh,” Rhaenyra said a bit glumly, “Were you thinking of yourself, Lord Corlys.”
The older Lord appeared shocked at the suggestion before he turned serious as he contemplated her words.
The King gasped.
Rhaenyra allowed her eyes to dull and her face to fall, shoulders slumping down in defeat.
“I see.” She whispered as if to herself.
Turning her lifeless eyes to her father she addressed him specifically, her tone emotionless.
“Is this what you would have me do?” She asked softly. “Must I be bedded by a man older than you in order to remain as your heir? Is this the fate I must endure?”
Although logically the solution was not a bad one in principle, she knew her father would be horrified. She would learn whether he would force such a prospect on her, in which case she had already decided her position as heir was not worth such humiliation or; he would stand by her and break the betrothal in the face of the insurmountable odds they were up against.
Predictably the King was appalled.
“That is ENOUGH!” He shouted as he leapt to his feet.
“Ser Laenor.” He addressed the young man for the first time. “I will have the truth here and now. Is what Rhaenyra says a faithful account? Are you capable of . . bedding a woman?” He bit out.
Laenor stood and bowed to the King with all respect.
“I’m afraid the Crown Princess speaks truly, Your Grace. I have tried and tried on the orders of my father to be able to . . “ He faltered, “No matter what I try, no matter how much wine or which drugs I take or who is my bed partner, I cannot . . I-I cannot.” He finished in a sad, broken voice, allowed for the first time to speak of that which he had endured in order to satisfy his father’s ambition.
Rhaenys, who had been listening to everything with a horrified expression on her face, whirled to glare at her husband, anger burning red hot in her eyes.
“You did what?!” She said in a deathly quiet voice.
The King was shaking his head and running his fingers through his hair, agitation plain on his face. Finally he turned to take the seat next to Rhaenyra.
Rhaenyra kept her face devoid of emotion as she waited to see how this would play out.
“Rhaenyra,” He said gently as he took her hand, “You cannot believe . . I would never force you to . .” He broke off.
“But you already did.” She whispered. “You promised me I could have my choice and yet when I made it you promptly refused me and then forced me into this betrothal. Why should I believe you would not also force me to be bedded by a man not my husband, if it would satisfy what you decided was best?”
Her father’s face was stricken as he listened to her words and yet he could say nothing in his defense as that was exactly what he had done.
The King hung his head for a moment before standing swiftly and addressing the room in a tone that brokered no objections.
“This betrothal is at an end. Laenor, you are free to go.” He told the younger man who stood, winked at Rhaenyra and left the room at a near run.
“Lord Corlys, Princess Rhaenys, as grateful as I am for your hospitality, I'm sure you understand why we will be leaving at first light.”
The King barely spared them a glance before offering his daughter his hand.
“Come, Rhaenyra. We are leaving.”
Rhaenyra kept her head low as she took her fathers arm and allowed him to escort her to her chambers. The walk was quiet but she would not relax just yet. Her father may have rescinded his permission for her to marry Laenor but that did not mean he would not turn around and choose a different husband for her, regardless of her own feelings.
When they reached her chambers they simply stood for a moment, neither saying a word, before the King reached forward to open her door.
She began to walk inside, refusing to look anywhere but the floor.
“Rhaenyra.” He said gently.
She turned to face him but kept her eyes on his chest.
“I shall think on what you have said.”
Then he turned and walked away.
Rhaenyra watched until he turned a corner and she could no longer see him, a tiny smile gracing her face.
It wasn't much but perhaps it might be just enough.