Dragonstone, 114 AC
Laena remained silent to catch her breath before speaking again. "Do you still intend to hide this from Mother and Father?" There was a slight betterment in her voice, one she hadn't intended to add. Laenor's joyous mood turned somber as his grip lightened, and Laena slipped out of his arms.
"Of course not, Laena. But I would prefer to tell them in a private setting rather than surprise them upon our anchorage at Dragonstone, where many eyes are watching—eyes that would report to the Targaryens before our parents could even reach the keep," Laenor said, raising an eyebrow in surprise, as if asking, Why haven't you thought of that? Laena might have been embarrassed, but she did not let it show on her face.
"So what? They have to know. Better be it today," stated Laena.
"No, not all of them needed to know then. Not before I tell Mother and Father. Do you know how many times they've asked why I haven't agreed to the betrothal? I would rather inform our parents first before telling others," Laenor said in a strong tone. Laena could see why—but, as always, she hadn't thought of it first. Maybe because she was too angry. Mother always said she had the temper of a dragon, as was often said of House Targaryen.
Laena and Laenor spoke of the North and his stay at Winterfell—of how old the keep was—while her handmaiden helped her get ready for the supper that was still hours away. Once Laena was dressed, she looked at herself in the chamber's mirror. Though it wasn't as polished as the one in her bedchamber at High Tide, it was clear enough for her to see she looked beautiful. Laenor said so, too.
When she was ready, both she and Laenor made their way toward the adjoining chamber used by their parents. Laena glanced at the stone figures carved along the corridor walls—dragons, all of them, by the look of it. They reached the doors soon enough, and when the Velaryon guards spotted them, they informed their parents, who bid them to be let through.
Laena saw her mother in a red dress, her hair styled in a braid unlike her usual preference, and thought they too had freshened up. Laenor instantly made his way to their mother and took a seat beside her. Their father, who had been standing, soon joined them, taking the seat opposite. Laena sat by her father.
"I see both of you are ready to sup with the King. Though I wonder if we will be honored at all, since His Grace has yet to arrive," her father said, breaking the silence. Laenor was the only one who smiled at his words.
"Viserys will be here soon, lord husband. Don't forget—our king rides a dragon nowadays," her mother replied. Laena often found herself confused by her mother. Why did she defend her cousin sometimes, while other times she mocked them with her father? Perhaps it depended on her mood.
"But it is not the king we should be talking about right now," her mother continued, turning her gaze to Laenor. "You have yet to tell me what happened to those ships we sent you with."
"It was nothing, Mother. A powerful storm hit us, that's all. You can ask the crew if you wish. It caught us unaware since I wasn't at my best. The night before had been spent drinking—we were close to the end of our journey," Laenor replied, a faintly embarrassed smile on his face. His mother shook her head in disapproval, though Laena noticed their father studying Laenor closely, as if doubting his words.
"What have I told you about drinking, Laenor? You—"
"He is young, Rhaenys," her father interrupted. "Let him enjoy this time of his life. And need I remind you how brash and headstrong you were—"
"No need, husband. Instead of hearing about my past, why don't we hear why our children are here instead of Princess Rhaenyra or Prince Daemon?" Her mother cut him off, directing a sharp glare his way—one not missed by either Laena or Laenor.
"It's because I wanted to explain the reason behind my not accepting the betrothal yet—to you both—before the supper, where I'm certain Daemon and King Viserys will insist I tell them," said Laenor with a resolute look. He watched their parents' reactions, though his confidence faltered when their father exchanged a glance with their mother and nodded slightly toward her.
"Would that reason be that you cannot marry Rhaenyra because you and your sister love each other? Is that it, my son?" asked their mother in a firm tone. Both Laena and Laenor glanced at each other in shock. Laena's heartbeat quickened as her mind registered that their parents had known all along. What? How? What next? A thousand thoughts flooded her mind. Laenor, though, remained calm and nodded in confirmation—as if there was no longer a need for words. Their parents' reaction had already said enough. They had known it for long enough.
"Rhaenys and I had some doubts, but Laena's tantrum when the King and Daemon brought the betrothal was enough for us to know that there was something going on," said her father. "I can speak for both of us when I say we do not think it is a wise decision to continue what you two have." There was sadness on his face, but Laena did not care to think why. Anger and hurt warred in her chest as she looked at her father and mother. Why would they deny her and Laenor this? Did he intend to marry Laenor to Rhaenyra, then? Why promise his brother to let Laenor have a say in whom he would marry?
Laena's thoughts spiraled into despair—each one darker than the last—until Laenor's voice cut through them. "I would like to know why you two think it is an unwise decision," asked Laenor in a stern tone.
"Because we are of House Velaryon and not Targaryen," her mother answered, her tone matching his.
"House Targaryen is Valyrian and dragonlord besides, and House Velaryon is the same now, since we have our own dragons. I see little difference, save that their dragons are smaller, Mother," Laenor remarked.
"You would see the difference if you heard the titles they are addressed by," her mother bit back. "The Targaryens are the royal family. They fought down major riots and rebellions from the Faith when they began doing what you and your sister are thinking of doing. Do you think the Faith would not rise again? That the lords would not support them just because your dragons are bigger? What I know from experience, my son, is that men and women who are pious seldom care who stands against them."
Laena wanted to say something, but her voice would not come.
"Not to mention," her mother continued, "the Faith is already enraged with House Velaryon. Do you know what holds them back from going against us even now, Laenor? Would you like to take a guess?"
Laenor stared at her and said, "Enlighten me."
"My cousin, the King, and the Hand are working tirelessly to keep the Faith from rising again. Viserys is emptying his coffers to bribe High Septons and lords ready to raise their banners against House Velaryon. What do you think will happen when you tell that man you're rejecting his precious daughter because you wish to marry your sister?" asked her mother. Her voice was calm, but there was anger in it that Laena could feel.
"Your mother is right, son," said their father gravely. "Even as wealthy and influential as I am as Lord Velaryon, it was His Grace who stopped the Faith from calling their banners to end the 'heretics,' as they like to call you. We do not have an issue with your relationship—Rhaenys is of House Targaryen, where such things are not uncommon. I would like nothing more than for dragons and your abilities to remain within our family. But without Viserys, without the royal family's backing, there will always be a sword hanging above your neck—the Sword of the Faith. And I know I need not remind you how dangerous that is, even for someone like you."
Laena knew why. As strong as Laenor was, even he and House Velaryon could not fight the whole realm, even if the North and the Stormlands took no part. The previous Faith uprising was proof enough.
"So what, Father? What must I do? Forget about Laena and pretend from now on that we don't have feelings for each other?" Laenor asked angrily, frustration and vulnerability clear in his tone.
Her father's reply was a helpless shrug and a glance toward her mother. Laena could not hold back any longer—the tears had already betrayed her, and now she sobbed as she stood up and pushed open the doors, running back to her chamber where she could cry in peace.
Why? Why had they not thought of this? No—it was her fault. She should never have pursued her brother in the first place. But even knowing all this, why did it still hurt so much?
Laena reached her chamber and shouted at her handmaidens to leave her alone. She slammed the door shut as the last of them hurried out—and wept heavily, sinking to the floor with her back pressed against the door.
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