High Tide
Words could not describe the expressions on Lord and Lady Velaryon's faces. But no one could blame them—for their son had shown them something that shocked them to their core and made them the proudest parents in the entire realm… no, in the entire known world.
Corlys would fight tooth and nail, with his beloved wife, to claim that he was the prouder and more overjoyed of the two after witnessing his son's ability. For so long, it had been said that the Targaryens ruled the skies while the Velaryons ruled the seas. Yet unlike the Targaryens, whose dominion over the skies was absolute, the Velaryons faced rivals—houses that could and would replace them if given the opportunity and the resources. But all of that changed now. With this power—this power to command the waters of their domain—the tides themselves could be bent to the will of House Velaryon. It would change their future forever.
Corlys could swear by the gods old and new, by the Red God of Volantis, or by the countless deities he'd heard of and seen worshipped in his many voyages, that never in his long life had he smiled with such joy. It seemed all the gods of the world had blessed House Velaryon with open hands. First wealth and influence through him—now power, through his son.
Though born of the same blood amidst fabled Fourteen Flames, the Targaryens had never ceased to remind the Velaryons that they were Dragonlords, and the Velaryons were not. That they were the superior blood, and the Velaryons merely subjects—favored only for their Valyrian origin when the Targaryens sought brides. Never mind that House Velaryon's lineage was older than House Targaryen's. It was sheer luck that made the Targaryens dragonlords. Without their dragons, they would be no more than the Celtigars—a minor house with modest wealth and a few mad seers.
But it no longer mattered.
For here, before Corlys, stood a true Dragonlord—one who wielded not only fire but the might of the sea with dragon dreams no less. A son who could take House Velaryon further than Corlys himself had ever dreamed. A son who would leave behind a legacy that no one would ever forget.
And was that not what Corlys had always yearned for in his mortal life? A legacy?
Rhaenys was no less awed than her husband. The power to command the waters of the sea... Living most of her life on Dragonstone, surrounded by old Valyrian scrolls and tomes, she could confidently say she had read nearly all of them—if not all—save those elusive writings Queen Visenya was said to have hidden away. Though Rhaenys doubted anyone would ever find them, if they even existed.
But she knew one thing: never, in any record she had read, was there mention of a Velaryon—or any Valyrian house—who could control the sea. Rivers, perhaps—such power was known to belong to the Rhoynar. But even then, their magic had been tied solely to the great river Rhoyne. And Laenor had no Martell blood. Even the Martells no longer held such power.
What their son had done was unprecedented.
Then a sudden thought entered her mind—absurd, but not outlandish. The Sea God's daughter had once wed Durran, from whom House Baratheon claims descent. Perhaps it was from the blood of the storm kings that Laenor inherited this ability. Yet, there has never been a single record of a Durrandon wielding even a drop of power over water, let alone on the scale Laenor had just displayed.
House Velaryon once possessed some kind of ancient power—that much she knew—but it had been lost to them thousands of years ago. No scrolls in the possession of either the Targaryens or Velaryons made mention of what that power might have been. It was gone, forgotten by time and buried by the sea.
Perhaps together—she, Corlys, and Laenor—they could piece together the origins of this ability. But her thoughts soon shifted to another, more pressing matter: what would happen if the truth were revealed to the world? What would it mean for House Velaryon... and for her son?
Laenor was not only a dragonrider but a dreamer as well, and there is his dragon's uniqueness to take into consideration, as Embaryx possessed the power to stimulate flora around him, aside from his ability to breathe fire. Embaryx's and growth rate alone had surpassed anything recorded or witnessed before. When paired with Laenor's own ability to command water, and the meteoric rise of House Velaryon in recent years, Rhaenys had every reason to believe that her cousin and her maiden house would feel threatened—if not openly troubled—by the growing influence her son might wield in the near future.
Everyone knew the Targaryens had won their crown through fire. And now, there existed another power—one that could rival, perhaps even surpass, that legacy. The power to command the sea of Laenor had just been given was bound to draw attention... and not the kind one would wish for. House Velaryon would gain few allies and far more enemies. More still would see her son as a threat to be dealt with—sooner rather than later. Some would try to ally with the Velaryons. Others would try to crush them before the seed had a chance to grow.
Laenor needed protection. And Rhaenys would see to it herself—finding men who were not only competent but fiercely loyal. Men who would stand beside her son when the shadows closed in and he could not stand alone.
"By the gods, words cannot describe how proud and happy I am right now." Of course, he was. Ambition and the pursuit of legacy could very well be the definition of Corlys Velaryon. The sheer joy on his face made Rhaenys smile—only to shake her head a heartbeat later, noticing the faint arrogance that lingered just beneath it.
"As am I. But I want to applaud you, Laenor, for hiding this ability for so long. It must have been difficult, and while I wish you had trusted us with this earlier, I understand the need for secrecy," said Rhaenys with a nod, her voice calm and measured.
Formal and cautious—even among family. It hadn't always been this way. Corlys still remembered the girl whose passion burned as brightly as the mount she rode across the skies. But the realm's decisions—and her own grandsire—had shaped her into someone more cautious, more pragmatic. Gone were the endless dreams of adventure she had once shared with him in the early days of their marriage. Corlys would never forgive Jaehaerys for that. But the man was dead now, and Corlys hadn't been able to do anything to Jaehaerys when he was alive. Not that he'd needed to. The gods had seen to that themselves to punish that man.
Still, this was no day for bitter memories.
"A feast. Yes, a feast must be held today. I would have liked to hold no less than a tourney to mark this occasion, but I must return to the Stepstones. Least Daemon comes storming here, abandoning all we've achieved this past year." Corlys sighed, clearly disappointed that such momentous news would only be marked with a feast. Grand tourneys had been held for less.
"We must return to the castle and inform the servants to begin preparations," said Rhaenys. "Though I still need to hear how Laenor trained this ability, and what its limitations are. But that can wait till tomorrow. I will be busy with the feast—and you, Laenor, will be explaining to Laena why you didn't wait for her and didn't tell her about this power earlier. Good luck with that one." With a smirk, Rhaenys strode off, already making a mental list of which Velaryons on Driftmark to summon for the feast.
"I would've helped you, son," said Corlys with a half-laugh. "But you know Laena doesn't even speak to me. Still, I'm sure you'll convince her. After all, you are my son." With that, Corlys made a quick exit, ignoring Laenor's pointed, accusatory stare.
Laena was her mother's daughter, through and through. And since bonding with her dragon, her temper had only grown sharper.
Laenor POV
He was absolutely livid with his father. It was because of him that Laenor hadn't waited for Laena. And now, like a backstabber, he simply took his leave—whistling, no less. A traitor. Still, setting that aside, both his parents had taken the news well. They weren't angry or troubled by the fact that he had hidden his hydrokinesis for all these years.
The next challenge, however, would be Laena. And during the feast, Laenor planned to ask his father to take him along to the Stepstones when he returned the day after tomorrow. He could at least allow Laenor to join him after thrusting him into this position.