Chapter 33: Emerald Seals
110 AC, King’s Landing
As Laenor Velaryon left the tower of the Hand, he knew without a doubt that he did not like Otto Hightower. Then again, he had not expected to, coming in, as during his tenure as Hand of the King, the Cown had seemingly done his best to weaken House Velaryon as much as possible, though he had underestimated just how much he would come to dislike him.
It wasn’t the fact that the Hand was actively working on weakening his house that caused this. That part was actually quite understandable, given the fact that Laenor’s mother was a claimant to the throne during the Great Council, and so, weakening his rivals was something that was a smart thing to do after gaining power, but the continuing sanctions showed a bias that Otto Hightower certainly held towards his family, one that could have a lot of Laenor’s projects hampered by his paranoia and fear.
So, yes, he had not expected to like the man, but it was obvious what the man had wanted: to ensure that no marriage between Laenor and Rhaenyra would occur before Aegon was declared as his heir, which gave Laenor an advantage in their little talks. All in all, their conversation was to be a negotiation with the Hand being on the back foot.
Then, Otto Hightower threatened his sister.
For all of the rivalry between Laenor’s father and Otto Hightower, he had expected there to be a certain civility in their dealings, certain lines that would not be crossed. His cold rage near the end of their conversation had probably been the only true thing that he had shown during their entire conversation, and that threat was not one that he would forget, not anytime soon.
Thankfully, Laenor reigned in his temper, and while he had accomplished what he wanted with their meeting, though perhaps not everything, he was still enraged at this moment. Joffrey, who had accompanied him to the tower, was faithfully following him back to their quarters without saying a word, though he obviously noticed the tension in Laenor’s frame.
It was only when they entered that he relaxed, especially at the sight of Laena waiting for him. She looked up and asked, “So, did you do it?”
He simply nodded, and she put her hand on her mouth as her eyes widened. She had not expected him to succeed, and he turned to her, urgently, “Do you have everything ready? We need to work quickly before the wax loses its shape.”
“Yes. I set things up just as we planned,” his sister immediately answered.
Laenor quickly moved to the chambers that he had set up earlier and saw a miniature workshop that he had prepared. He immediately took out the small piece of beeswax and resin that he had put in his pocket, one on which a specific symbol had been imprinted on it.
He saw Joffrey and Laena behind him take in a shocked sigh, “The King’s seal.”
Laenor suppressed the urge to smile at that, instead focusing on his task. He had reasons to be proud, of course; this had been quite difficult to pull off, and something that he had planned extensively.
He had known that Otto Hightower had access to the King’s Seal. It had been something that his father complained about, that the man was treating it as his own. He was right, of course; the seal should not have been something that anyone but the King had access to, through his signet ring alone, since using it was essentially using the King’s voice.
But Otto Hightower had gained such influence over Viserys Targaryen that he was trusted to speak on his behalf in almost all matters, and thus he must have had his own seal manufactured. It couldn’t be a ring, of course. That would have been a great overreach to wear it, and so, it must have been a stamp, which would be used in his solar.
Just as he had theorised, it had been openly displayed on his desk, as if the man wanted to show the world the power that he had over the King.
Quite arrogant, perhaps, but for Laenor, it was certainly useful.
And once inside, all it took was some misdirection, barely more than a couple of seconds at most, for Laenor to be able to pick up the stamp, make an impression of it in the wax, and return it, and the man had barely even noticed. It hadn’t even been that hard; Otto Hightower had done his best not to focus on Laenor, likely as some kind of intimidation tactic, which suited Laenor fine.
The man obviously treated Laenor as someone unimportant, or perhaps, someone of no consequence beyond the Sea Snake being his father. Laenor rather looked forward to when the man realised what his arrogance had made possible.
But for now, he took out the small piece of beeswax and resin and quickly submerged it in a small clay cup with some very distilled Wildfire within. The discovery of how to do it with whale oil from Ibben had been a monumental breakthrough and opened a great deal of research into the material’s many properties.
One such property was one that Laenor used as he set the flame alight, and the entire piece of wax was engulfed in a small green fire, which quickly faded away, leaving behind the wax and resin that was as hard as stone.
It was a strange phenomenon that he had found, the way that Wildfire could increase the hardness and even the melting point of material if it was incapable of melting it. Laenor could not find any logical reason why that happened, only that it did, and it certainly was immensely helpful.
With the impression of the seal reinforced, he took out a small piece of bronze that he melted using more concentrated Wildfire. He carefully poured it into the hardened-wax mould, whose melting point was now superior to that of bronze, before relaxing, knowing that he had done what he could.
As he let it cool, he turned to his awestruck sister and friend, the latter asking him, “Did it work?”
“We will know when the metal hardens,” Laenor answered.
They both looked at the cooling bronze in curiosity, but it was Laena who spoke up, finally asking, “And how was your conversation with Otto Hightower?”
“I do not like that man,” Laenor simply answered.
“Laenor,” she said with a reproachful tone, knowing that he was being evasive.
He raised his hands in surrender, “Very well. He was… more forceful than I expected.”
That certainly was an understatement, if there was one. He had just threatened the heir to one of the most powerful houses in the realm, a house of Dragonriders, all to stop Leanor from his ‘advances’ towards Rhaenyra. Dislike of the Sea Snake aside, this was not something that anyone did, not someone who wanted his grandson on the Iron Throne.
That meant that he was desperate, far more desperate than he looked from the outside. He was likely pressured by most of the members of his faction, hoping to find certainty, especially since many of them had sworn oaths to Rhaenyra when the King obviously did not want Daemon to be his heir.
Of course, the man had no reason to suspect that Laenor had no intentions of marrying Rhaenyra at all. Even if the girl did not make him feel like a pit was falling in his stomach, Laenor had no intentions of being any sort of candidate for Kingship, be it as the ruler or consort.
While most would have loved it, he personally thought of the Iron Throne as a shackle, essentially being forced to play politics or get a Hand that would do it for him, which, in King Viserys’s case, granted Otto Hightower much more power over the realm than he should have ever been permitted.
Laenor did not need a crown or a throne to change the world, to prepare it for what was to come. He had everything that he needed in Driftmark, and he would turn it into the jewel of Westeros, the true centre of the West.
Joffrey must have realised that this was why he had been so tense, but faithfully did not say a word. Laenor nodded gratefully to his sworn shield as Laena hummed at his answer, “Well, you are technically his greatest threat to his grandson’s future as King, and the way that you have been acting since we came here is likely pressuring him. I assume that he refused to remove the sanctions that he placed on Driftmark?”
Laenor nodded but did not say anything. That would have been a good way to convince his father not to pressure him when he did not ‘woo’ Princess Rhaenyra as he obviously wanted him to. It would have been a good trick to get over Otto, essentially getting him to remove the sanctions on Driftmark while getting nothing in return; Laenor had no intentions of ever marrying the princess.
He saw Laena slump at that, obviously sharing his disappointment, “Perhaps the shops that we have bought would soothe father. Or we could try negotiating with Hightower again once you stop gallivanting in the streets of the Capital. For the sake of my sanity, I do hope that you do that quickly enough. I have been hounded by ladies that you have ‘wooed’ with your songs and generosity.”
Laenor snorted at the jest but then shook his head, “You know why I need to keep this up for now.”
There was a reason why he was doing this, and it was certainly not attempting to show his worthiness to the princess. However, he had to admit that this byproduct was one that he quite liked, especially given that it pressured Otto Hightower enough to invite him to his solar, which had been one of the things that he had been unsure about when he had first come up with this plan.
Speaking of which, Laenor looked at the mould and saw that the bronze had finally hardened and cooled. He removed the mould and carefully took out a piece of bronze. He turned to Joffrey and asked him, “Can you get me some wax?”
His sworn shield and friend nodded and gave him a piece of wax that he heated up before pressing the piece of bronze on it, leaving behind a perfect indent. Laena and Joffrey had their mouths open, and Laena muttered, almost giggling, “I know that this was what we planned for, Laenor, but… It’s truly different seeing it. This is the King’s Seal.”
Laenor personally thought that they likely thought that it would not work. After all, the power that they held now, because of this small piece of bronze, was far greater than any lord or lady should have access to. The doors that it opened were almost limitless.
He smirked at them mischievously and said, “I told you that this would work. But this is only the first step. You know the parts that we all will have to play.”
His sister and his friend nodded solemnly, their expressions serious, after the shock of what they had achieved had worn off. What Laenor was trying to accomplish was risky, very risky, but if it worked, then it would secure Driftmark’s future, and so much more.
And so, he sat down, took out a piece of parchment and began to use a quill to write a letter, specifically using Otto Hightower’s handwriting. Laenor had practised for weeks using letters that he had taken from his father’s solar.
Still, using a quill had become unusual to him, having been used to writing with glass pens that he forged back on Driftmark, which were much better. It was actually one of the products that he had planned on selling in King’s Landing in the new shops, alongside his sister’s mirrors. There was even a small design inspired by hand mirrors, which Laena planned on selling there as well, which he was sure would explode in popularity when the ladies of the court learned of it.
It did not take long for the letter to end, which he sealed with the exact wax that Otto Hightower used. He had prepared its contents since he began planning this trip. If one did not know any better, they would likely think that this letter was authentic. After all, there was no reason why it would not be.
He handed the letter to Joffrey, “I trust that you know what to do with this.”
“Yes. I have found a way to have the letter sent to the Alchemists’ Guild discreetly. They should not suspect that it was not sent by the crown.”
He turned to Laena, who nodded as well, knowing her part in the plan. He truly did not regret bringing her and Joffrey with him; Laenor was grateful that he did not have to carry the burden alone.
Still, as he saw his sister’s face, he quickly remembered how Otto Hightower had threatened her, and he suppressed the cold rage that still burned in his chest. Most nobles would have exploded at the man, but Laenor was different. His rage was cold, calculating.
It was how he knew for certain that the man would come to regret doing that.
Then an idea came to him, a very devious one, and a devious smile appeared on Laenor’s face as he took out another piece of parchment. As he began to write, his grin widened. After all, it would not do for Otto Hightower to threaten his sister without any sort of consequences, would it?
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.
Well, I did tell you that a lot of Laenor's purpose in the previous chapter was misdirection, which I sort of showed in this chapter. It was why Laenor left so abruptly; he had gotten what he wanted, and when Otto threatened Laena, he knew that any more negotiations wouldn't work. I also wanted to show some of the advantages that Laenor got by stabilising Wildfire and studying its properties, which is pretty important for the future.
As I said before, I am planning on uploading more of this story (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.