Balerion Tower
Laenor had decided that he would buy either a manse or a tower near the seacoast, like Balerion Tower, here in Valyria. A tower would be more preferable, as sitting atop it with his legs dangling and looking over both the splendor of Valyria and the unending ocean was fast becoming his favorite pastime. Laenor had already finished his lunch, and afterward had discussed at length what joining the Drakonar faction truly entailed—beyond merely aligning themselves with the Drakonars.
Lord Maelor briefed him and his father on the Council and the three archons who take form when circumstances demand it, and how factions conduct themselves within that body. Voting blocs, alliances, shifting loyalties—then came the games and matches, a tourney of sorts among the dragonlords. Dragon combat, warriors clashing steel against one another. Though it was more akin to a cold war among factions, where cruelty was limited and regulated by the freeholders. The freeholders were compensated for the loss of their resources—resources meaning slaves who could fight—by being allowed to watch these spectacles.
At some point, Laenor grew bored and excused himself. With nothing pressing to do, he wandered to the top of the tower. His mother and sister were still with Lady Hael and Elaena. Lady Melisa had returned to her home, and Laenor managed to glimpse her dragon through one of the tower's narrow windows as she departed—a pretty thing, pink and white. Though it was smaller than even Syrax.
It was either a miracle or the dread commanded by the Drakonars that had protected Lady Melisa from vultures. Valyria lacked no shortage of predators in men's skin eager to prey upon a lone dragonlady whose mount was so small. Now, once his cousins were summoned here, it would be Laenor's responsibility to ensure no harm came to her. Though he would not mind erasing House Gontaris entirely, he hoped—for their sake—that they would not force his hand. The Drakonars certainly wished for such an outcome, as Gontaris was a powerful clan aligned with the rival Aetharyon faction. Their destruction would deal a devastating blow to that faction's influence.
The Aetharyons, for their part, had also sent an invitation—bidding Laenor and his family to enjoy the hospitality of Arrax Tower. Aegor insisted that they at least consider meeting the current head of House Aetharyon. The lord freeholder of Velaryon heavily implied that Laenor would receive the great honor of marrying into one of Valyria's five most powerful families. But Laenor doubted such an offer would truly be extended, or if it comes the lady would be of a side branch, a cousin to the main line that matters little. The reason is that Aegor did not know the extent of his power—only that the western Targaryens and Velaryons wielded magic. Laenor had never shown him even a fraction of what Lord Maelor Drakonar had witnessed. The so-called "honor" Aegor spoke of likely stemmed from the sheer size of Embaryx and Veltharys.
In the days he had spent in Valyria, Laenor had not seen a single dragon larger than Embaryx—save for Balerion himself. At first, he assumed it was a mere chance that he had not encountered such beasts. But now he understood: dragons of Embaryx's size were rare across all dragonlord families, save the Drakonars. Even when a dragon reached such colossal proportions—what Valyrians called titan-size—it was often too old and unwieldy to be useful in battle. Such dragons were typically culled, deemed too costly to feed and maintain. Drakonar dragons alone grew massive without becoming liabilities, their ferocity and savagery increasing alongside their size. And now, Velaryon dragons had surpassed even them—growing faster, stronger, and swifter than Drakonar mounts could boast. It was this simple fact that likely compelled Aetharyon to send Aegor bearing a thinly veiled proposal.
All things considered, Laenor and his father found the Drakonar offer more desirable. It did not require him to take a third wife, and it granted control over an existing dragonlord house—respected and wealthy beyond measure. Though, truthfully, Laenor would not have objected had the Drakonars made the same offer as the Aetharyons. He shook his head in frustration, banishing the thought.
Elaena Drakonar had not left his mind for a single moment since he first saw her. Laenor kept himself occupied to avoid thinking of her—but even that failed him at times, as it did now.
She was beautiful beyond even his wildest imaginings—seven hells. During lunch, he had struggled to look anywhere else. Laena had noticed, but rather than reacting angrily, she had merely shrugged in defeat. Later, she even confessed that Elaena was far too beautiful to fault him for stealing a glance or two.
Still, Laenor tried not to dwell on her. Even thinking of Elaena made his heart race and heat rush to his cheeks—perhaps from embarrassment at how openly he must have stared.
"Lord Laenor, what a surprise!"
Laenor looked up. Dark clouds still loomed above, but he was no longer gazing at them—he was staring through them, silently cursing the heavens. The voice behind him was unmistakable. A shiver ran down his spine, a pleasant shiver because of how good the voice sounded to his ear. Leanor took a deep breath as he straightened his back.
The owner of the melodic voice slowly made her way toward Laenor. Even though he did not acknowledge her presence in any way, she did not take it as an insult and turn away. Laenor could feel her standing beside him, and with no other option, he slowly turned his head in her direction. Elaena's face was caught in turmoil; she was looking down at the floor where Laenor sat. Her thoughts lay bare for him to read—should she sit on the floor or not?
A soft chuckle escaped his mouth, even though Laenor tried to stop it. Instantly, Elaena turned toward him, and not even a moment later, she sat beside him with a small humph, not meeting Laenor's eyes even when he looked at her.
"I apologize for that laugh. But the face you were making—so confused and hesitant—just made me smile," Laenor said apologetically.
Elaena side-eyed him, studying his expression, judging his sincerity, before turning fully toward him with a bright smile. "Apology accepted. But you must understand, I have never sat on the floor at the top of our tower like this." She pointed at him. "So I was a little hesitant about doing so."
"How do you find it, then?" Laenor asked, curious whether she found it as pleasing as he did.
"Hm? What?" Elaena asked in return, not immediately understanding.
"Look at the sky—dragons with their riders, and riderless ones, enjoying themselves in their domain." Elaena did as he said, and after a few moments, a smile bloomed on her face. "Now look down, and you see the beauty of Valyria laid bare before your eyes. And when you look south, you see the vast and calm ocean, soothing the very soul," Laenor said with a serene smile. Words did little justice to what his eyes beheld, yet he tried nonetheless. Turning toward her, he asked, "Now tell me, Lady Elaena—was the decision to sit here worth it?"
The lady in question took a deep breath before replying, "It is worth it, Lord Laenor. Perhaps I will return here whenever I find my soul in turmoil." Laenor smiled at her answer, and the two of them sat in silence for ten, maybe fifteen minutes.
"I hope you never find your soul in turmoil, Lady Elaena," Laenor said absentmindedly. "Now, as much as I think you sitting beside me makes this already beautiful scenery more majestic, I suspect you came here for a reason." He turned toward her, curious. "Why did you come?"
"Truthfully, I came here to visit Morghul," Elaena admitted. "But I will not deny that I also wanted to meet you in person and ask something that has been on my mind for several hours now."
"Ask away," Laenor permitted.
"Why do you not wish to take multiple wives?" Elaena asked, curiosity and confusion clear in her voice as she looked at him with an intense gaze. "Almost—no, not almost—all the heads of the Forty have multiple wives. Even weaker clans among the Forty, like the Targaryens, once kept four or five. Why do you, as a man who is so powerful even without your dragon, settle for only two?"
Had it not been for the sincerity and genuine curiosity in her voice, Laenor might have thought Maelor sent her with some hidden motive.
"To be honest, my upbringing plays a large part in that decision. In the West, where I grew up, a man takes only one partner." Not to mention that in his previous world, harems were hardly a common practice—at least not where he came from. "The second reason is succession. I do not want my life's work undone centuries from now because I set a poor precedent and created too many lines to remain united without internal conflict. And third," Laenor continued, "Lady Melisa is a beautiful young woman, but she is too shy and timid to make me reconsider my decision."
Those three reasons alone had led him to refuse Melisa as a third wife.
Elaena was quiet for a moment before asking softly, "What about me? Would you have changed your decision for me? Would you agree to take me as your third wife?"
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