Chapter 18: The Path Ahead
109 AC, Driftmark
Rhaenys Velaryon wondered if the Gods actively conspired against her husband. After all, Corlys’s tourney had ended moons ago, and it was clear that his victory had been marred by Daemon’s recent foolishness, which made his entire campaign completely and utterly meaningless.
Aside from her husband’s pride, the war in the Stepstones was showing itself to have grave consequences on the Seven Kingdoms. Unlike the previous conflict, the Triarchy had completely blockaded the Stepstones, filling the islands with pirates who would plunder any ship to their heart’s content and be paid for it. Already, half of the pirates in the Basilisk Isles had accepted the Triarchy’s offer, and others would likely soon follow.
Myr also started to arm their fleet with scorpions, which released bolts with great power. It had always been the case, but the production was said to be on a much greater scale than before, enough to even halt some of their other works for the war effort. Of course, these bolts wouldn’t truly harm Caraxes, which was a fully-grown dragon, which was once her father’s dragon, with the scales being strong enough that the bolts would simply bounce off them. However, there was a chance that they would reproduce Dorne’s feat and get a lucky bolt in the dragon’s eye, a chance that grew greater with the number of scorpions likely attacking Daemon’s mount.
Rhaenys would not say that she understood how Essosi thought, but she knew one thing: they treated their trade, their gold, as Westerosi treated their blood, and Daemon, who threatened just that, hence their reaction.
Trade in the Seven Kingdoms had almost halted in a way that it hadn’t even during the previous Campaign, with no ship having survived passing the Stepstones since the war began. Even most lords who had been in Driftmark during the tourney ended up sailing only to King’s Landing and returning home by land, to avoid the war.
The price of goods increased greatly, especially since ship travel became very limited, even across the Seven Kingdoms, and if she thought of it correctly, the Essosi had likely wanted Viserys to feel enough pressure to call on Daemon to return. In a way, that was the Triarchy’s greatest failure, for they also did not understand most Westerosi culture, which was not quite centred on gold as theirs was, but on pride, honour and glory.
She was thankful that Corlys had decided not to go to war once more, though she would easily admit to being surprised by that particular decision. She knew her husband and knew that he would likely feel slighted by his efforts being in vain and would have joined Daemon to earn back the goodwill that he had lost then. However, aside from arranging patrols of most of his fleet near Driftmark in case of an attack, Corlys had mainly focused on trade with Essos, specifically with Braavos and Pentos, to reduce the losses that this war cost House Velaryon, without access to the trading routes to Qarth.
It likely did not help that Viserys chose not to do anything regarding the war, and the realm was seemingly turning towards Corlys, this time expecting House Velaryon to repeat its deed once more. And when he did not join the war, rumours began to spread, that the Sea Snake was a coward, that his previous victories during his campaign were through luck alone, and that he could not replicate the feat, that he cared more about enriching his house than the good of the Seven Kingdoms, completely ignoring the fact that the King was also done nothing to stop the war.
It didn’t help that House Velaryon was likely one of the least affected of houses with its sale of mirrors, both in Westeros, but also under the guise of a ‘mirror’ merchant in Pentos and Braavos, who needed to deal with a sudden shortage of glass-based objects after Myr committed much of its resources to the war, increasing their prices dramatically. Normally, such a thing would have aroused some suspicions, but the war seemed to distract most Free Cities enough to ignore the quantity of mirrors that they were selling.
Still, the rumours spreading so quickly across the Seven Kingdoms were troubling, and Rhaenys recognised what had happened immediately, for she had suffered the same during the Great Council, where they claimed that Corlys would usurp the throne, should she be chosen as Queen.
It meant that someone in the Capital wished for Corlys to fight in the Stepstones, someone who wanted to punish him for showing that he was beyond the Crown’s control. The person responsible was obvious to her, for it was Otto Hightower. The fact that the Hightowers were beginning to increase their trades to Qarth, instead of the Velaryon, was very suspicious as well. That was without mentioning that Daemon, who Otto Hightower greatly disliked, was not doing well in the Stepstones.
The Triarchy’s forces expertly hid from Daemon’s dragon, and it was clear that the Rogue Prince’s forces would soon run out and that Caraxes would eventually tire. It didn’t help that the Triarchy continued pouring gold for every mercenary company, enough to even have a very large bounty on Daemon’s head. Without a proper fleet helping him, her council was being pressured, with his only advantage being Caraxes. The man would likely not ask anyone for help, certainly not from Corlys and his brother. She knew her cousin, and if he saw the Stepstones as his, given the crown that he wore on his head, he would not risk sharing his glory with anyone if he had the chance. His pride would simply not allow it.
Truthfully, Rhaenys was afraid that Daemon would be pressured enough that he would simply raze the three Free Cities to the ground with Caraxes, which she genuinely thought was more likely than his asking for any sort of help. This would, of course, unite most of Essos against House Targaryen, despite their many differences, which would likely end in a far larger-scale war, as well as a series of assassinations of members of House Targaryen.
After all, the Free Cities did not make such attempts because a single surviving Dragonlord could burn a city in revenge. That had been a stalemate of sorts that had existed since Aegon conquered the Seven Kingdoms, a stalemate that Daemon would break should he destroy any of Essos’ Free Cities, something that was sadly a possibility that they needed to consider.
With the Crown unwilling to do just that, someone needed to stop this future from coming to be. Fortunately for the realm, someone had come up with an idea to do that. Unfortunately, she wished that this person were not her son.
Normally, she would think that this was some scheme on Corlys’s part, but this plan was unlike that of her husband. She knew her son enough to recognise his brilliance anywhere, and this plan was one of them. If only her brilliant son had not chosen to endanger himself so.
Deciding to distract herself, Rhaenys went to her solar and continued reviewing the many letters addressed to her, many of them being ladies who ‘subtly’ urged her to convince Corlys to sail to war, while mentioning their support during her candidacy during the Great Council. The gall of them, especially since they all but became lickspittles of Viserys’s reign after his victory.
The letters alone annoyed her greatly, and to make things worse, a knock on the door made what little patience she had these days fray. “I requested that I be left alone.”
A familiar voice spoke up, “Even me, Mother?”
It was Laenor’s voice, and despite herself, Rhaenys’s expression instinctively softened, and she slumped down, “Please come in, Laenor.”
Her son, her beautiful boy, entered the room, and for a moment, she was struck speechless at how much he had grown. He looked like a young man, a brilliant young man who had likely already changed the world, and yet, she still remembered when he was but a small babe that she carried around Driftmark.
Still, she steeled herself and asked, “Why did you come, Laenor?”
“Can’t a loving son go see his beautiful mother?”
She gave him a dry look at that response. She loved Laenor greatly, but he would much rather work on his projects in Castle Driftmark or remain in his Workshop than anything else. He often had to be pried away from his trinkets to eat, and he had shown them over the years that there was little that they could do to change that, not that Rhaenys would change anything about her darling son.
That did not change the fact that Rhaenys was displeased with him regarding his reckless plan, as she was displeased with Corlys for agreeing to do it in the first place.
Laenor looked away, sadly, “I did not wish for me to leave Driftmark on bad terms.”
Rhaenys gave him a blank, “Then you simply need not leave Driftmark at all. You have distinguished yourself in the tourney for the sake of Castle Driftmark, and yet, many of your plans remain unfinished.”
That was not exactly accurate. Laenor had spent much of his gold, which he won wagering on the ‘Mystery Knight’ in the joust, on what he called ‘industrialising’ his forge. He expanded his tide-based forge, as well as his glass forging, which released far more consistent results. He was also structuring his household strangely, as well as his ledgers, which she was curious to see how it would fare.
However, that did not change the fact that it was very little compared to some of the ambitions that he had shared with her, mostly focusing on helping Driftmark weather the impact of the war by increasing the production of mirrors, instead of something that he was truly passionate about.
She knew that her words were impactful as Laenor almost recoiled at them, and her eyes softened, “That was unkind of me, but I only worry for you. You must understand the dangers that you would be in, should it be known that you were travelling to Braavos in the guise of a merchant on a ship with a handful of guards with you. As the son of the Sea Snake, you are an attractive hostage for the Triarchy, and the Crown is unlikely to help in any way.”
Her son’s response was immediate: “The alternative is me being dragged to war alongside Father. How long do you think he can resist proving the rumours wrong? He is slighted every day, and his legacy is tainted by his inaction. Seven Hells, the King might eventually decide to command House Velaryon to join the conflict. I am a knight, a man grown now, I will be expected to fight alongside Lord Velaryon, and I would be in far more danger than a secret trip to Braavos.”
That statement stopped her. She had forgotten the fact that he had been knighted. It had always felt like a knighthood was barely more than a ceremony, a permission to participate in a tourney or two. At least, that was what it had been during the Old King’s reign.
It was different in war. Knights were expected to fight alongside their lords, and refusing to do so was to be labelled a coward. She knew that Corlys would not allow the opportunity of his heir being labelled as such. And Vaemond would ensure that he would be called as such, especially after Laenor took Castle Driftmark from him.
Should Corlys involve himself in the war, through his own will or a command from the Crown, Laenor would be required to fight, something that made her heart clench. No, she would not allow it. She would burn the Triarchy to the ground with Meleys before she allowed her son to risk his life for Daemon’s foolishness.
Still, the Queen Who Never Was did not relent in her arguments, “I never disagreed with your plan, Laenor, only that you would be the one to take the risk. It need not be you, my son, who journeys to Braavos. Even Vaemond could do it. It would certainly give us a break from his insufferable presence.”
Laenor snickered at her last comment but collected himself shortly after. He did not say a word to answer her query, and instead put an object on her desk, specifically, a small porcelain cup that she was surprised to see with him. There were a few items made of porcelain, often imported from Yi Ti, in Spicetown, but they were worth a small fortune, as in thousands of gold dragons, each. Though it wasn’t quite as richly decorated as the ones from Yi Ti, it was unlikely to change its value too much.
Alas, she did not get to answer her question as Laenor continued, “These came out of Castle Driftmark earlier today.”
Rhaenys found herself gaping at the sight, “Porcelain?”
“Yes. It took some work for me to fine-tune the process so that without anyone noticing what I was doing. No one knows this, not even Father, but I plan to sell them when we get to Braavos. I need to start this trade as myself, as Laenor Velaryon, Lord of Castle Driftmark, and not as an emissary of House Velaryon. I need it to be mine, Mother, and I cannot trust anyone to make the journey for me. Father cannot leave the island without half of the Known World knowing about it, as would the movement of two Dragonriders. I am barely more than a passing thought at the most, an artist and a jouster, nothing more, and that allows me a measure of flexibility that you do not have.”
His tone was almost pleading near the end, and she could feel her heart tightening in her chest, as she had never seen Laenor like this, especially as he continued, “I… I need to do this, Mother. I can feel it. It is something that I must do. This will be the beginning of everything I wish to accomplish, and I will need to do it without relying too much on Father’s goodwill, which he would ask me to pay back, given his ambitions. Castle Driftmark, what I seek to build, is to be mine and mine alone. I do not wish for Father to intervene, not with this, and for this, I will need to go on this voyage to Braavos. This is where my journey will truly begin.”
There was a disturbing amount of truth in that statement. Corlys would love nothing more than to have his blood on the Iron Throne or, perhaps, tie himself more greatly to the royal family at the very least, and Laenor knew this. No, he feared it… She did not know why, as the Realm’s Delight had spoken with him more than with any other noble during the tourney, but she decided not to press him on the matter.
Every instinct within Rhaenys screamed at her to refuse him. To forbid it. To lock him in Driftmark if she had to. This was her son, a child of her blood, and the mere idea of him sailing away throughout the narrow sea made her shiver, but that look in his eyes, the desperation that lay within, the resolve that he had, showed her that Laenor would do this regardless. And it would be better that he did this with her blessing than without it.
“Swear to me,” she simply retorted quietly, earning her a confused hum, “Swear to me on the Old Gods and the New, that you will return to Driftmark safe and uninjured.”
Laenor blinked, surprise flickering across his features before it melted into a grateful smile, “I swear to you, Mother, on the Old Gods and the New, that I will return to Driftmark safe and uninjured… Thank you, Mother. I know that this was not… easy.”
She walked up and pulled him into her embrace, relishing in his warmth, but not denying his words. After all, he was right. Giving him her blessing for this journey was one of the hardest things that she had done in her life.
It was that warmth that she did her best to remember a few fortnights later, as she stood upon the cliffs of Driftmark and watched Laenor’s ship shrink into the horizon, white sails swallowed by sea and sky. The wind tugged at her hair as Meleys shifted restlessly behind her, sensing her unease. She would pray for his safety every day since then, hoping for his safe return.
AN: This story is still relatively new, so if you'd like me to continue it, please let me know in the comments what you think of the rewrite so far.
I know that this was a bit of a slow chapter, and that some of you would be frustrated with me still not revealing the full plan, though Braavos will be heavily involved. However, I felt like I neglected Rhaenys a bit in the last few chapters, and I wanted to show her perspective, while also using her political acumen to get a clearer look at how the war was progressing, before getting right into things.
As I said before, I am planning on uploading more of this story starting next week (outside of normal uploads). I have a bit of a backlog of chapter drafts for this story that I’ll try to go through when I can. As usual, I don’t mind rewriting this chapter depending on your feedback, so please let me know what you think and if you have any suggestions.