Pre-Chapter A/N: More chapters on my patreon(https://www.patreon.com/c/Oghenevwogaga)— same username as here and link in bio. Also a cheeky little discount– more information on that at the bottom AN.
On today's episode of women being near impossible to understand, we have the pre-teen Laena Velaryon, I wrote in my journal as I looked at her over the dinner table. Mother would ask me to put it away once the old arrived, so I quickly went back to writing my thoughts down as I thought them. Laena had been pissed at being unable to go flying with Vhagar. With that context, one would have expected her to be overjoyed at that punishment being lifted with my imminent departure. But against all odds, she'd lashed out— at Mother and father for suggesting it, and at me for accepting it with what she might have viewed as no resistance. My lack of resistance came from understanding that causes were worth fighting for and which ones were not.
I'd made my objections known, and been overruled on all accounts, so I decided to look at the bright side. House Baratheon was famously martial. Getting to spend time there meant I would become a much better fighter. It also meant less time under Corlys' careful eye. He let me invent as I wished, but I knew he kept a careful eye on everything I did, and to avoid questions, I'd been forced to keep my work limited to ships and even in that case to stuff that was technically possible with the science they had in this world, just not very efficient. Most of my innovation was just streamlining old processes and working with conventional wisdom and taking things to their logical conclusion. I was just iterating, not revolutionising the way I would otherwise have preferred to.
Nothing from the books made me think either of the Baratheons would care much about what I got up to. The third advantage was the fact that it meant my grounding would come to an end. Not being able to fly had been a punishment in and of itself, and then there was the additional woe of lost training time and being forced to spend my days either with the boring old fog of a Maester who had earned his links in history, strategy, and astronomy of all things. Needless to say, it hadn't taken much for me to be brought over to their side of things. Of course, I'd done nothing to correct their assumption that the tales of a knighthood and routing the Dornish with Borros Baratheon's counter-raiding group had been what swayed me to their side.
"Laenor" I turned to Corlys once he said my name. He then gestured towards the door, and immediately it opened, welcoming a man dressed in full plate. He was not very tall, standing at about Corlys' 5,10" and his muscles were nothing to write home about. Still, he gave off this aura that said he knew what he was doing when it came it a fight.
"This is Ser Ben Celtigar, a cousin to Lord Celtigar, who has agreed to swear to you and act as your sworn shield during your time in the storm lands.
—
"Have everything?" She asked, while making sure that I was tight against the saddle. Generally, I preferred to ride without chains, but Rhaenys had vetoed that in seconds, citing the storms that plagued the region I was going to be visiting.
"Considering you oversaw the packing, I think I should be asking you that question" I said cheekily, and I saw the temptation to clap me over my ears for the cheek, but she changed her mind and gave me a peck instead.
"The Baratheons will not much appreciate that sene of hour of yours, son" She said. I nodded, taking hr words to heart. I knew that I had a life that few people— even nobles, could relate with. For one, I had a virtually limitless stipend, a castle full of servants, and men-at-arms forced to listen to my every whim, and the freedom to do what I want when I wanted to— at least before my recent grounding. I doubted I would have the same liberties at Storm's End.
I turned to the side to find Corlys approaching. He was a fascinating man, this father of mine. Contradictory in many ways. Even in the way he approached the dragons. With Meleys, it was hesitant, like how one would approach a wild horse. He avoided eye contact, made sure to keep a respectful distance, and never addressed the dragon. With Vhagar, his choice of approach was simply, 'no'. He never got within five meters of the Bronze Bitch, keeping a healthy distance, and acting with the expected subservience. That all flipped on its head when it came to Igneel, though. He could march in and out of his presence without Igneel ever batting an eye, or releasing a growl.
And that was what he did. He came straight at us without hesitating, and Igneel did nothing but spare a glance in his direction before returning to his previous activity of staring into space.
"Ser Ben and the rest of your serving staff will be making the journey by sea and should be expected to join you within the fortnight. Until they arrive, I expect you to conduct yourself with a suitable level of regard— both for your hosts and for yourself and this family." He began. I nodded.
"And until they do, you can use this to purchase whatever it is you may find yourself in need of" he said, reaching to his side and unlatching the coin purse there. When he tossed it at me, it was just my luck that I had reached out with both hands to catch it. It was so fucking heavy that it had almost crashed through my stretched fingers and hit me on the face.
"Don't spend it all in one place" Mother said, watching me strap the coin purse to the rest of my things secured against the saddle.
"There's five thousand dragons in that purse. I'd love to see him try," Corlys scoffed. I smiled at his words, only to feel a hand lightly smack my head.
"Don't take that as a challenge. He will not be sending any more until the year is up if you squander this" She said.
I looked over at Corlys behind her shoulder, and he just winked in my direction. Yeah, he'd definitely be sending more even if I squandered this bit. Good news because I had no doubts that my experiments would end up being quite expensive.
"Is Laena coming?" I found myself asking, even if I knew the answer already.
"She seems to have gotten it into her head that you will not leave without her saying goodbye and so has locked herself away in her rooms" Mother said with a shake of hr head. I smiled at the thought. One year older than me, but the dynamic between Laena and I had always been one of me being the older sibling and her being the younger, less mature one.
I reached into my jacket's inner pocket and took out a sealed letter. I knew she'd pull something like this.
"Please give this to her when she gets out for dinner" I said. Mother nodded, before pulling me into another tight hug, that I returned.
"Now, you should get going. You remember the designated rest spots?"
"Yes mother"
"Good. Even if you feel like Igneel can continue, it's best if you stop at those spots to avoid having to stop somewhere else. Your father has spoken with the affected Lords and made the right payments, so don't hold igneel back from hunting to his heart's content" She said, and I nodded again. I knew this already. She knew I knew this. We'd gone over the route multiple times. She herself had flown the route on Meleys' back to make sure that there would be no surprises. With what we measured of Igneel's speed, and assuming two hours of rest at each spot, we were scheduled to arrive at Storm's End before the end oof tomorrow.
"Goodbye Laenor." She said, placing a kiss on my forehead. I nodded at her, and then her husband behind her. The ship with my staff and the rest of my supplies had set out a day earlier, so there was nothing holding me here. I patted Igneel's neck, and he rose from his crouched position, rising to his full height.
We heard a roar off to the sides, and it was the Bronze Bitch, just as expected. She was perched on one of the many hills that dotted Driftmark, watching us leave. I scoffed in her direction, never noticing the small figure atop her back. I sent my intentions to Igneel, and he turned in the other direction, taking five quick steps before shooting off into the air like a bullet. I felt the wind press against me, trying to toss me off the saddle, but I kept my grip around his neck tight even as I buried the urge to whoop and holler. This was it, finally.
—
"Welcome to Storm's End" Boremund Baratheon greeted me with those words as I was led into the throne room where storm kings had ruled from for generations. High Tide was a beautiful castle in its own right, a masterpiece of marble and glass, but there was something it just lacked when compared with Storm's End. For one, the Baratheon Castle was at least half again High Tide's size. Not quite impractically large like Harrenhal had been. But it was still clear that the castle could not have been the world of a single generation.
"Thank you for having me, my lord" I said with a bow. I did not kneel. House Baratheon was the greatest house in the storm lands, yes, but I am a dragon rider, and that alone gave me privileges that others would dare not take. He made note of the gesture, I knew, but beyond that, there was no reaction from my mother's uncle beyond a slight narrowing of his eyes.
"Rhaenys says you'e willful, stubborn, that you've never heard an order you did not object to. That might have been acceptable back on driftmark, but we will not be tolerating any of that here. Before the sun is up, you will report to the training yard. There, Ser Manfred will take charge of the first part of your training. He will decide what you learn and when you learn it. When he thinks you are ready, he will send for my son to take over the rest of your training" He said.
"My lord, what about the rest of the day?" I found myself asking when he did not say anything else.
"What rest of the day?" He sounded genuinely confused as he spoke.
"Oh. You think there is any time you won't be at the yard for? Until Ser Manfred is satisfied, you will spend every waking hour from dawn to dusk at the training yard." He said.
"Now, the servants will show you to your chambers" He dismissed me at that point, and I couldn't even hide the confusion on my face. Where was the time for lessons with the Maester? No lessons with the septon, either? Just time in the yard? No music or dancing lessons?
—
I ducked to the left and used the chance to bring my sword to bear, stabbing straight at my opponent. His shield was in the way almost before I'd even completed my thrust, and he knocked it to the side before I was sent flying to the floor with a boot to my chest. I felt the padding I wore slide across the ground for a few seconds before I came to a stop.
The sun was just beginning to rise, and I'd already eaten dirt on five different occasions. How fucking fantastic.
"Are you going to stand up, boy? Or ya enjoying the taste of the dirt?"
"Give me a second" I barely managed to mutter before I felt a hand grab a hold of my clothing and pull me straight up.
"No resting in battle. Now sword up".
—
I blocked the attack, gritting my teeth as I felt my arm and shoulder shake from the force of his blow. Ser Manfred was terrible when it came to holding back. I moved my own sword into position, but my return blow was too slow, and he was slapping my blade away with a flick of his wrist in a manner of seconds.
I stepped back, mindful of my footwork to not let myself get tripped up for the seventh time today. With my step back, I took a step forward almost immediately, aiming to disorient him by not doing what I was sure he expected me to do after that particular move. I was right. This time, I forced him to move as he stepped backwards mid-lunge to avoid my searching blade. I stepped forward again, steel hungry for blood, but found myself on the floor in a matter of seconds.
"What did you learn from that one?" He asked with a chuckle, even as I heard Ser Ben begin chuckling from his watchful position. Some sworn shield he was.
— 105 AC—
I moved my head backwards to avoid a searching swipe of his blade, biting back my annoyance to try to stay focused on the here and now. A year here and I still hadn't managed to beat this motherfucker, not even once. So that meant every waking hour that I couldn't get off to see. Igneel was spent here in the yard, getting my arse beaten. I was sure that if not for his natural fear of dragons and what they could do, Boremund would have banned access to Igneel already in favour of me getting even more time in the yard.
I blocked the next slash with my shield, and then was forced to block the one after that. And then another after that. "What did I say about hunkering behind that shield of yours?" I heard Manfred's rough voice before I felt something hit my shield and send me flying into the dirt. I blacked out for a second, but when I returned, it was to find him standing over me with that look in his eyes.
"Not to" I replied, the question he'd asked before he dealt out the punishment.
"Good, then don't" He said, before taking a step back and lifting his sword, silently bidding me to keep going. Everywhere hurt, but it was not an offer I could refuse. I'd seen what lay in that direction.
—106 AC—
I pressed the attack, moving in a continuous circle of steel and motion. Each swipe of my blade led to a slash, or to a thrust, or to a stab, or something else that Manfred would have to block or deflect as I tried my level best to force him on the back foot with the sheer number of attacks. Years of sparring had beaten it into my head that contests of strength were far from the way to go. Contests of speed, on the other hand? Well, Manfred was a mountain of muscle and padding while I was, in his words, 'a lithe little shit'.
I weaved to the side, trying to move away from his sword's range. My first stab was caught on his shield as I forced him to finally bring said shield to bear. I danced backwards, avoiding the predictable shield bash before banking to the side suddenly. My sword moved for his back, but he whirled around with speed that belied his size. My sword was sent flying into the air as it came in contact with his, and the next second, his sword was at my throat.
"Yield" I muttered sullenly, moving back to grab hold of the sword where it had landed.
"Nice one. Maybe you'll succeed in beating me sometime this century" He mocked. I nodded, taking the words and allowing them to run off my back like water on a stone. Manfred had mocked me every second of every day from the second I'd first stepped into this training field, so if he wanted to get a rise from me, he had to do much better than that.
—107 AC—
"Who's this?" I found myself asking as I walked into the training yard and found someone standing next to Manfred. He was shorter than the older knight, but that was barely noteworthy. Everyone who wasn't named Boremund Baratheon was shorter than Manfred. At this point, I was beginning to think he was the old bastard's bastard son. The lack of last name and the general regard he received from the household were strong signs pointing in that regard.
"This— this is your new sparring partner" Manfred said.
"Getting scared I'll kick your arse, old man?" I asked with a smirk covering my face.
"Even in a century, you'd fail to get that good. No. Ser Ben noticed something that I had failed to consider when we began your training. If you fight only me, then the only thing you'd get good at is fighting me— reading my moves, knowing what to do when I attack. The goal here is for you to be good at fighting. Well, passable. Good might be a stretch considering your talent—"
"Lack thereof, you mean" Ben cut in. Et tu, Brutus? I sent him a betrayed look that he answered with a smirk.
"So every week for the next year, you'll find yourself faced with a different partner. Some of them will use different weapons, and others will use familiar weapons in unfamiliar ways." Manfred said, before gesturing for me to take my stance.
I felt hope bloom into being. No more Manfred. I could finally get some wins under my belt because whether Manfred or Ben admitted it or not, I knew I was good. I had to be. I rushed straight at my new opponent, and in a matter of seconds, found myself tasting dirt while my head rang like a bell.
"We're both going to be in for it if you just killed the Lordling" I heard Ben's voice before drifting off to unconsciousness. Note to self: Don't get too close to Morningstar wielders, those things swing unpredictably.
A/N: Do you like this time-skip style? There obviously needed to be a time-skip, and I think this method works better than just showing up a few years later. Next three up on patreon(https://www.patreon.com/c/Oghenevwogaga)( same username as here and link in bio), support me there and read them early. Also, there's a cheeky discount available for monthly plans (public) and a secret one for yearly plans with the code- CHEEKY20 for 20% off yearly plans