Chapter 36: Boars and Tusks
110 AC, King’s Landing
Viserys Targaryen awaited the coming dinner with an anticipation that he had not felt for some time. No one had told him how dreadfully boring being king could be, mostly with it being made up of meetings and endless petitions that more often than not a simpleton could deal with. Thankfully, he had chosen an able Small Council, with many opposing views, each of them strengthening the realm that his grandsire had built in their own way.
Then again, he would prefer this over an exciting reign, which was another word for a troublesome one, and Viserys wished to be remembered as a peaceful king. Nevertheless, Laenor Velaryon’s coming to King’s Landing was one of the interesting moments that cut through the usual boredom within the Red Keep.
Viserys would admit to being slightly biased when it came to the lad; the painting gifted to him in that tourney almost two years back was the greatest gift that he had received during his reign. Even if he normally hung it for everyone to see, Viserys liked to sometimes have it in his solar, spending hours simply admiring the Song of Fire and trying to pull away a fragment of its meaning.
The boy was blessed to be a dreamer, that was something that Viserys was certain of, one who used his gods-given talents to show them to the world. He could almost feel it with every gaze, the power within this simple canvas. Even his Court often admired the painting and its intensity. It felt fitting that they do; this was a fraction of the truth behind the Conquest, the reason they truly bowed to House Targaryen, Aegon’s Dream.
By all means, the boy was talented, both as a fighter and as an artist, though the former was more important. The blood of the dragons also ran strongly in his veins, making him a possible Dragonrider. Truthfully, he was even one of the most viable candidates for a match with Rhaenyra, though there was little that he could do if his daughter disliked him; she did seem excited for this dinner, something that she normally would dearly avoid given the tension with Alicent, so he was quite hopeful in that regard.
Unfortunately, the boy was Corlys Velaryon’s son.
The Sea Snake was a grasping man, one who would do anything to gain a fragment of power, and Viserys did not doubt that he would use his son as well. It was sadly the truth, and one of his main reasons why he went along with Otto’s plan to snub the boy and wait for a few days until they met properly.
It had been a test of a sort, one that the boy had passed brilliantly, using his time to walk around the city, awing everyone with his skill with a harp and his beautiful, unique songs. It was supposed to be a secret of a sort, given the way that he did this while wearing a hood, but a few agents that he left behind to observe him had confirmed it to him. He had ordered them to stop after a few days, seeing very little point in it, as the hooded bard seemed to appear every night in the city with a new song.
Nevertheless, rumours began to spread soon after, likely due to some loose lips on the part of his servants. It was not long until half of the court often went to the streets of King’s Landing, hoping to attend one of young Laenor’s performances. Viserys had never been to any of them, though he wished he had, given the fact that more than a few confessed to having left in tears.
He would have, had he been younger and a prince still. Unfortunately, the King of the Seven Kingdoms could not go to a random tavern in the streets of King’s Landing. In many ways, the Iron Throne was as much of a chain as it was power incarnate.
Still, the entire performance looked like an elegant courting ritual of a sort, and he had to admit that it was certainly better than most of the lordlings of the realm loudly announcing their lineages in attempting to earn Rhaenyra’s favour. Every day, Viserys had felt excited for this moment, to finally speak with Laenor Velaryon.
Finally, after what felt like a small eternity, Ser Harrold Westerling announced young Laenor and Laena’s arrival at their dinner, and they knelt before him, “Your Grace.”
Viserys smiled and answered, “This is an informal affair, and you share my blood. You need not kneel.”
They rose in unison, and Viserys finally looked at his guests with his own two eyes. Laena Velaryon was growing into a Valyrian beauty, perhaps one that would rival even his aunt, Viserra, one day.
Laenor Velaryon had also grown; he was taller, almost like his father, miniature, though slenderer. Still, Viserys didn’t underestimate him; this young man was the slayer of the King of Pirates, the scourge of the Basilisk Isles, after all.
The Velaryon scions sat on the dining table, Laena sitting next to Rhaenyra, with her brother on the other side. Meanwhile, on his left sat his wife, Alicent, and his Hand, Otto. He hadn’t thought that Alicent would try to come, given that she was quite heavily with child, and yet, she seemed strangely interested in it.
The King saw Rhaenyra’s smile visibly lessen at the young man sitting away from her. She might not have said it overtly, but her curiosity in any matters regarding Ser Laenor showed her interest. For him to sit away from her could be considered something of an insult. Then again, it might be an innocent mistake on young Laena’s part. She was the one who sat first, after all.
Finally, having settled down, young Laenor spoke up, his voice smooth, “Thank you for inviting us, your Grace.”
“Oh, I would have done it earlier, Ser Laenor, but unfortunately, Kings rarely do have the luxury of free time.”
The young man chuckled politely, “I suppose that a realm as large as the Seven Kingdoms would keep anyone occupied.”
Young Laena then snickered at that, “It would certainly be better than him. He spends most of his time brooding in his solar, trying to improve his castle and a town. I shudder on the day that you inherit Driftmark, brother, for I fear that none would see you for moons to come.”
The boy seemed to blush slightly and discreetly hit his younger sister, who had a laugh filled with mischief, before retorting, “And you claim that you are better? How many times did Mother have to chase you down on Meleys because you forgot to eat as you spent the entire day flying atop Vhagar?”
The girl’s cheeks reddened, and the small tension in the atmosphere lessened slightly, as they all smiled at their interaction. It was quite casual, disarmingly so, and it certainly was a nice reprieve from the usual stiffness of his court.
Conversation continued rather smoothly after that, though for some reason, young Laenor did his best to avert looking at Rhaenyra, as if she were a nesting dragon. It was likely some nervousness. Viserys remembered feeling nervous when he first met Aemma, long ago, and so he had faith that the boy would eventually outgrow it.
Viserys had almost forgotten the formality of the affair after some time. The whole affair reminded him of the days when his father still lived; there had been no exchanged barbs, no subtle demands, simply good food and good company.
The conversation mostly drifted towards Ser Laenor’s works in Castle Driftmark. Viserys had been surprised by many things, but mostly young Laena’s involvement in many of his plans, including the shops being opened in King’s Landing, though they were manned by merchants sworn to House Velaryon who would sell their wares.
Viserys thought the idea to be risky, as the price of glass would decrease as people mastered the recipe that Braavos had spread out to spite the Triarchy. At least, that was what Lyman Beesbury, his Master of Coin, claimed, and he trusted that man enough to know that he was right in most matters of coin. Still, he was quite interested in their glass quills, or glass pens as they call them. The boy had gifted him one, though it was coloured in a smoky black with swirling crimson, the colours of House Targaryen. He would try it later, if only because of his dislike of quills, which broke far too easily.
Nevertheless, their conversation had shown him why Corlys Velaryon had granted Castle Driftmark to his son. It was a test of a sort, though perhaps it was a very expensive one. He did not think that any Lord aside from a Lannister, a Hightower, and maybe a Tyrell, would have the gold to waste for such a test, but Viserys was sure that Laenor Velaryon would be a formidable Lord one day.
Thankfully, the conversation shifted to Riptide, House Velaryon’s new Valyrian Steel sword, which quickly turned into Ser Laenor regaling them with the likely overexaggerated tale of how he defeated Sargoso Saan and claimed his weapon as his own. Even Otto had seemed drawn by the story, though perhaps that was because young Laenor was a very gifted storyteller.
It was his wife who brought some tension back into the room, “That was a valiant tale indeed, Ser Laenor, but I cannot help but wonder what you were going to Braavos for.”
Viserys had been so taken by Ser Laenor’s tale that he had almost forgotten some of the questions that he had planned out with Otto and his wife to ask the Velaryons. After all, they were young, and after a few goblets of wine, their tongues would be loose. Young men and women often liked to brag about their accomplishments, and there was no reason for the Velaryon siblings to be any different. The King was thankful that his dutiful wife remembered, though she could have been less blunt with her words.
The boy, however, didn’t seem bothered by the question at all. “Oh, I was there to negotiate an agreement between my father and the Sealord of Braavos. It was certainly a lovely city, but the Sealord is a very shrewd man indeed.”
Viserys, wanting to see the Sea Snake’s possible deepening relationship with Braavos, pressed slightly, “What kind of agreement?”
He looked at the young man, who was looking at the back. Viserys followed his gaze slightly, and for some reason saw a rat of all things. Young Laena hit her brother with her elbow, breaking him for his thoughts, “Oh, I apologise. I’m afraid that I was distracted by… something. What were we speaking of again, your Grace?”
The King frowned slightly. Was the boy frightened of rats? Surely not. He was a knight, but then again, Viserys had known of knights being afraid of stranger things. In many ways, that settled many of his doubts; the boy had seemed too… perfect.
The young man answered immediately, probably wanting to put his little incident behind him, enough that he likely didn’t think much of the answer, “There was some trading, of course, but that was mostly a matter for the merchants. The agreement itself was mostly an exchange of knowledge. I have always been fascinated by Braavos’s culture, and I wanted to mimic their aqueducts in my renovations of Castle Driftmark. Unfortunately, they refused, and so we settled for the glass.”
That made a lot of sense. Otto had been obviously suspicious of House Velaryon’s glass and its purity, which surpassed even Qohor’s. Laenor Velaryon had all but admitted that they had the recipe for glass before the Sealord’s letter, which explained much.
His Hand immediately seized at the opportunity, likely trying to pressure the young knight while he was still distracted by what happened earlier, “And what did you offer the Sealord in exchange?”
“The design of our dry docks. They’re specialised docks that we put in place in Castle Driftmark, to make ship repairs and inspection a lot easier. It saved a lot of time when we managed our fleet. I had something else in mind for the exchange, our compasses and navigation tools to be more specific, but such is the way of negotiations. I doubt they’d even put it into practice anytime soon. The cost would certainly be quite high, given Braavos’s size and population density, but then again, they had given us an early lead when it came to the production of glass, and not much else, so I say that this cancels out quite nicely. Still, it is a shame that Father decided not to pursue more exchanges, though he didn’t deign to tell me why that was.”
Viserys found Otto nodding in agreement. He hadn’t heard about the dry docks or these compasses, whatever those were, but his Hand obviously had. He also seemed to approve of the deal in question, and more importantly, the fact that there hadn’t been any agreements since then. It was all the proof that Viserys needed to know that the Sea Snake had not overstepped in his dealings with Braavos as he and his Small Council feared, at least, as far as the boy knew.
They would need to make sure of that, of course, but Viserys had gained enough insight of the young man to know that he was no master mummer, despite his talents as a bard. In fact, his eyes had almost lit up when they spoke of Braavos and Castle Driftmark, and such passion was not one that could be faked.
Still, it would have been better if they shared this with the Crown, but then again, some new docks were hardly important. It wouldn’t take long for a shipwright to sell that secret either way, so it was hardly a secret of some kind.
He ignored his daughter’s slightly bored expression, a stark contrast to her interest in the tale of the battle with the pirates, though he decided to needle the young man slightly, “I must admit that such an agreement seems to favour Braavos over Driftmark.”
“Maybe,” Laenor Velaryon answered while shrugging, “I think it would depend on how one looks at it. The recipe for glass allowed for more immediate rewards, which we capitalised on by focusing on glassware that required more delicate crafts, such as the glass pens and Laena’s folded mirrors. Dry docks could benefit Braavos, but not without a lot of investment on their end, years of planning, and logistics.”
Viserys would admit that the young man was becoming more interesting by the minute. However, before he could ask more on the matter, Rhaenyra spoke up, “A fascinating tale indeed, though I was more curious as to your recent performance in the city. I was always fond of tales, and yet, I have not heard of these songs.”
Laenor’s smile turned towards his daughter with an innocent look, though betrayed by the mischief in his eyes, “Oh, what performances would you be speaking of, princess?”
His daughter seemed to almost pout at his answer, though he snickered quickly after that, “I suppose my disguise was rather… ineffective, wasn’t it? Though I didn’t expect a princess to have been in the audience in one of them. What was your favourite, princess?”
Rhaenyra blushed at being caught sneaking into the city… again. Viserys suppressed the urge to scold his daughter, though he would speak with Ser Criston regarding the matter. Still, his daughter smiled as she said, “Beren and Luthien…”
Viserys did not know the name of the song, but he noticed a small fond smile appear on the young Velaryons’ face. His sister smiled brightly, “I remember this one. You used to sing it to me when we were younger, did you not? It is still one of my favourites.”
“It is one of mine as well, sister,” the young knight answered.
Rhaenyra’s eyes seemed to have a small gleam in them. “Was the song inspired by someone, Ser?”
The young knight seemed to gaze in the distance, as if seeing something that they did not, “Yes, it was… A dream, one that I had long ago…”
Immediately, Viserys’s eyes began to sharpen as he looked at the young man. A dream… Could it be? He knew that the boy was a dreamer, even if the boy, himself, likely did not. Could his songs also be the products of his dreams, holding prophecies in their words?
The King was so caught up in that possibility that he barely heard his wife speak up sharply, “I have heard of this one, a love story, if I am not mistaken. Tell me, Ser Laenor, you are six and ten at this moment, are you not? Do you also have a lady love at this moment, or perhaps a betrothal that your father wishes to arrange for you?”
He was so surprised by the question that he missed the vindictive gleam in the Queen’s eyes as she asked her question.
The King turned towards the lad with interest in his eyes, and the young Velaryon looked embarrassed for a few moments, though he almost seemed… apprehensive.
He hesitated slightly and took a small glimpse towards Ser Otto for some reason, before answering. “If only I were so blessed, my Queen. I’m afraid that my father has not mentioned arranging any betrothal for me, and perhaps it is for the best; I do not feel that I am ready yet. I am dedicating much of my time to the growth of Castle Driftmark for the moment, and a part of me also wishes to travel the world, much like my father had. I suppose that there will be time for marriage later.”
Viserys frowned at that answer.
Had he misunderstood the boy’s intentions? It seemed rather obvious that he had come to court Rhaenyra, but the boy’s words were the opposite of that. Alicent had given the young man the opportunity to finally show his interest in Rhaenyra after days spent wooing her in front of the whole Capital, though without explicitly saying so.
Perhaps Viserys could think of the courting as a dreamer singing his dreams to the world, but that did not explain why he had come to King’s Landing. Either the boy had another purpose for being in the Capital, or he had, for some reason, forsaken his decision to pursue Rhaenyra.
It was then that he saw it briefly, in the corner of his eyes, a few hesitant looks that the boy gave Otto when he was not looking at him directly. Young Laena’s eyes were also almost glowing in fury, as she clenched her hand on her fork.
One did not spend so many years as King without learning to see such signs.
There was something that people dining alongside him knew that he did not. Viserys found himself misliking it, but it was hardly a great mystery; something must have occurred between his Hand and Laenor Velaryon that made him change his mind.
Had Ser Otto overreached in some way? He trusted his friend, but he had been rather pressing about a few things normally.
He was preparing to ask more of it, but before he could say anything, his daughter stiffened and said harshly to the room, "I have lost my appetite."
Then, she walked out of the room furiously without saying another word. Viserys did not blame her, for this was likely the only suitor that she would have agreed to wed, and yet, he refused her, though he did not say her name.
The King found himself at something of a loss as to how to deal with this situation. He did not come to a resolution as Laenor Velaryon stood up, his eyes regretfully staring at the door his daughter just left through, before speaking up, “Thank you for your hospitality, your Grace. I pray that you may excuse me; I fear that I might have drunk more wine than I expected.”
Viserys forced out a laugh, “It happens to us all, Ser Laenor, myself far more than I’d like. Though I do hope that we speak again soon, I found your company to be quite enjoyable.”
The young knight gave him a sad look, “I’m afraid that it would likely have to wait, for we are to return to Driftmark on the morrow. There has been something of a crisis in Castle Driftmark. You would think that employing some of the best builders in the realm would make things easier…”
The explanation that Laenor Velaryon offered was very weak, but Viserys did not try to question it. After all, it was obvious that Corlys Velaryon was summoning his heir back to Driftmark since the match with Rhaenyra would not be anytime soon.
The subtle way that the boy's eyes drifted towards Ser Otto before returning to Viserys only reinforced that suspicion. A lesser man would have missed it, but Viserys did not.
In the end, the King granted the two Velaryons permission to leave. His wife and her father quickly excused themselves as well, leaving Viserys alone with his thoughts.
He would know what Otto Hightower had done to young Laenor, and if his Hand had truly overreached, then he would make it right.
For he was a fair king, a peaceful king, just like his grandfather before him, and he would not see injustice done in his halls, even when his dear friend might be implicated.
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.
This chapter really got away from me. There was a lot that I felt I needed to cover during the dinner, and I didn't like the idea of splitting it into two chapters. Anyway, this chapter mostly shows a bit of Laenor's plans about Otto, using the opportunity to make Viserys suspicious of him, looking like he was an earnest young man caught up between his manipulations and those of Corlys. Of course, most of what he said to Viserys, especially about the deal in Braavos, was wrong, but it's something that he expected and prepared for, with the goal of misdirecting the Crown as much as possible. Still, I was a bit hesitant about making him leave King's Landing, but I felt like Laenor would like to have his plans unfold without him being there, like seeing a certain beauty in them, I guess.
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.