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Rating:
Teen And Up Audiences
Archive Warnings:
Graphic Depictions Of ViolenceMajor Character Death
Categories:
F/FF/MM/MMulti
Fandoms:
A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. MartinA Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms
Relationships:
Rhaenyra Targaryen/Laenor VelaryonJoffrey Lonmouth/Laenor VelaryonCorlys Velaryon/Rhaenys TargaryenDaemon Targaryen/Laena VelaryonRhaenyra Targaryen/Laena Velaryon
Characters:
Rhaenyra TargaryenLaenor VelaryonLaena VelaryonHelaena TargaryenAlicent HightowerAegon II TargaryenAemond TargaryenRhaenys Targaryen (Daughter of Aemon)Corlys VelaryonJoffrey Lonmouth
Additional Tags:
Self-Insertdance of dragonsAlternate UniverseTechnologySelf-Indulgent
Language:
English
Series:
Part 1 of The Blacks, the Greens and the Reds Next Work →
Stats:
Published:2019-09-19Updated:2026-06-17Words:1,084,451Chapters:467/?Comments:4,066Kudos:6,016Bookmarks:1,174Hits:557,654
The Blacks, The Greens and The Reds
Loke_Lyon
Chapter 2: Opening Moves - Chapter 1
Chapter Text
Laenor left me at the entrance to my rooms to go and prepare himself. A gaggle of maids soon surrounded me and I let myself relax under their ministrations. My hair was unbound and brushed, the dirt I hadn't notice wiped away with a wash cloth and then the dresses were brought forward.
In a previous life, I'd hated dresses. I'd hated wearing them, hated trying to move in them and especially hated how no matter the fabric they pulled and itched. The Rhaenyra in me loved dresses, loved being attended to, adored the idea of court fashion.
I'd been startled to say the least when I'd realised I actually looked forward to dress fittings. Even more so when my new fashion conscious eye could pick out courtly attire and what it meant.
"Nothing to ostentatious tonight, Genna." The maid in question curtsied and indicated for a black dress embroidered with red dragons. Another maid brought forth a mantle of red that evoked the style common to the Vale. Too tired to assess whether that would offend my dear Goodfather or not, I gave my assent.
The whole affair took about an hour. Outside of the window, the sun was beginning to set. I stopped to watch it. I wasn't in any particular hurry and I beyond tired of dealing with Corlys. I needed a few moments just to myself. What would I do if I couldn't get the Black Powder to work?
After my brief respite, I made my way to the private dining rooms. Laenor was not present yet but Lord Corlys and his wife were. I bit back a groan and hoped it hadn't shown on my face. Corlys greeted me with his usual taciturn nod whilst his wife pulled me into a hug. I returned it happily. For all that I disliked Corlys, I loved Rhaenys.
"You look well! Any chance of good news?" she asked, with a friendly nudge as we sat down. Sometimes I wondered what the hell went on in their heads, that they could miss Laenor's planet sized see-through closet. At the mention of heirs though, I became the subject of the Lord of Driftmark's laser-like focus.
I took a sip of wine before answering.
"Not yet Lady Rhaenys but I pray to the Mother that I will be blessed soon." When in doubt, invoke religion. It's amazing how many Westerosi nobles dislike talking about religion.
"As do I," echoed Laenor as he finally entered. He seated himself next to me after depositing a quick kiss on his Mother's temple.
"Praying won't help," said Corlys, breaking his silence at last. Laenor tensed up, as did Rhaenys.
"Father-"
"No, Laenor. You have been married for nearly half a year now. You think the servants do not speak? They do and the realm is eager to listen. And what things they speak of? A Lord that has never visited his Lady's bed chambers, A Princess who is happier to play with queer dusts and strange powders like some sort of alchemist!"
My fingers gave a throb of agony as my hand tightened around the goblet. Around us, the Stewards were doing their best to seem as unobtrusive as possible. How many were Alicent's? How much could I say in their presence?
"Corlys," hissed Rhaenys, her tone promising retribution. The Lord set his jaw, meeting his wife's eyes and then his son's. Both lost the ensuing staring match.
He turned his eyes on me. He was challenging me, although what he hoped to achieve was beyond me.
Our staring match was interrupted by the arrival of the meal itself. His eyes flickered for a moment, resting on the hand that held my wine before looking away entirely. I realised that my hand was still clenched tightly around the goblet, so much so that my fingers had turned white.
I couldn't tell who had won that match of wills. Instead of agonising over it, I offered Laenor a smile before helping myself. Dinner tonight was beef pie accompanied by a multitude of green vegetables. Delicious but my mind was whirring with other thoughts.
Why did he have to pick tonight of all nights? After today's failure… Was that why he had picked it? No. He had sent Laenor before the Power had failed to ignite. Perhaps he knew I had begun testing today and wished to gauge my work before deciding to disapprove?
That sounded more in line with what I knew about the Sea Snake.
After the last of his famous voyages he'd come back to Westeros and assumed the title of Lord of the Tides. His treasures had made his House wealthy and Lord Corlys had proved himself as good a ruler as he had a sailor. He'd invested, begun construction on High Tide and married a Targaryen Princess.
At the time, it had been assumed by many that Lady Rhaenys would inherit the Throne and Lord Corlys had made it apparent to all who would listen that he was ready to fight her battles. The fact that he had proceeded to do so was something of a problem.
None of the books I had read had ever gone into detail about it but it seems the conflict between Aemon's line and Baelon's line had begun far earlier than the Grand Council of 101AC. As a youth, Rhaenys had climbed atop Meleys soon after Princess Alyssa's death. To anyone unfamiliar with the customs of the Valyrian Freehold, this did not appear to be a problem.
However, I had soon been told otherwise. A dragon was personal thing, when a family member died custom dictated that those close to the deceased should have first refusal on the dragon. The fact that Rhaenys had so blatantly ignored this had enraged Prince Baelon as well as Prince Daemon. It had taken some not inconsiderable diplomacy from Prince Aemon to ensure it did not become an Incident.
But damage had been done. When Prince Aemon died on Tarth, Daemon claimed Caraxes in revenge. I think that Rhaenys wouldn't have cared had she not learnt soon after that Jaehaerys had stripped Dragonstone and the Title of Heir from her. Instead, the loss of Caraxes for her own daughter, the just born Laena, had become symbolic of her loss no matter how unreasonable it was to expect a babe to claim a dragon.
So much so that both Corlys and Rhaenys were eager to look the other way when the seven year old Laena claimed Vhagar. When her claiming of the mighty beast had come to light, Viserys had to physically restrain an enraged Daemon. The fact that the target of his ire was seven year old girl, one he was happy to threaten violence upon did not go down well with the Court. Or Jaehaerys. The Old King had him confined to his rooms for a week.
Corlys hadn't taken the incident well regardless of whether Daemon had been punished or not. He and Daemon had nearly started a civil war during the Great Council and it took years for matters to thaw between them. Even then it had been a chance thing. An icily correct visit to court and an unplanned drunken night had given birth the Conquest of the Stepstones. I was given to understand the early years of the Conquest had been fraught with arguments and rivalry even then. They'd managed to reconcile however.
For all that Corlys blamed neither brother for the wrong done to his wife, there was still an empty chair on Viserys' small council. Alicent was desperate to fill it with a Redwyne but Viserys refused, telling anyone who asked that the title of Master of Ships belonged to Corlys and would be waiting for him when Corlys came to claim it.
That Corlys had sworn he would not take the title until his wife and children's rights were restored, that he would not aid a usurper, seemed not to bother Viserys overly much.
I took a drink of wine and used it to covertly scan the Lord of the Tides. He was in his early sixties but was still as healthy and as active of a man half his age. His skin was weathered by the sea, something he was eager to show off as he eschewed any particular fashion, opting for the garb of sailor. Admittedly, the fabrics used were silk and satin. He wasn't as handsome as his son, his features were thicker than the normal aquiline Valyrian look but I'd imagine he still many a maiden blushing.
He certainly had the Rhaenyra in me blushing. The dinner proceeded in an awkward silence, with no one quite willing to break it. Laenor opened his mouth a couple of times but seems to back down before the words made their way out.
I forced myself to focus. That Corlys was trying to assert authority over me was obvious. The fact that he had all but usurped the castle from me was annoying. I'd been so focused on the powder… I pulled my thoughts away. This needed to be about Corlys.
Oh, of course. He can't be seen involving himself to much in the goings on of the court. He publicly declared his withdrawal from it several times. He's backed himself into a corner with hasty declarations made years ago that his own pride won't allow him to forswear. Controlling a future Queen is fine and dandy but I think what he really wants is the Black faction.
I resist the urge to groan at that. The Black faction. The one I'd been neglecting in my haste to develop the Black Powder. I'd reasoned it all away in my head that I wouldn't need the Lords of Westeros with dragons, guns and canons.
I'd messed it up somehow. I was certain I had the mixture right though. Even if I wasn't exact there still should have been some reaction, something I could use to refine it further.
Laenor cleared his throat. The rooms attention swung towards him.
"Out of curiosity, what was your experiment today supposed to do?" he asked. I took a sip of wine to give myself time to think. In the corner, Rhaenys leant forward slightly, evidently eager for anything that would alleviate the oppressive atmosphere that had sprung up.
"It was supposed to burn or explode." I replied, seeing no way out. Laenor's eyebrows drew together.
"Explode. Forgive me, Rhaenyra, but I do not see the advantage?" Laenor's face was scrunched up in confusion. Damn him, even comically confused he was beautiful.
"Ah. Well… I had hoped to use it to create new artillery." I managed lamely. At that, Corlys put his goblet down and leant forward.
"How would this have worked?" He asked. I couldn't tell if he was genuinely interested or not. Hopefully, he was. For all that he was a curmudgeon, his support would be priceless. His current focus was the Stepstones. If I was going to have to play the political game after all, the earlier I could use him as an active Black, the better.
"Simply? A long metal tube with lead shot. The Black powder explodes and launches the shot out of the tube at high speed." I explained. I was not going to tell him that early canons had a bad habit of exploding the people using them at the same time.
"But the powder doesn't work." There was reprimand in his tone. I kept the glare from my face barely. I'd walked right into a trap in my haste to trap him.
"I must have done something wrong. I can fix i-"
"How would this new artillery even help your cause? You ride a dragon, your Goodmother rides a dragon and your husband rides a dragon. I would suggest you leave the art of explosions to the Alchemists Guild."
Realisation hit me like a punch to the face. I barely heard Rhaenys' tart response.
The Alchemists Guild. I was an idiot. By the time of Ned Stark and Robert Baratheon they were a sad shadow of their former glory but right now? Right now they were at the height of their power. Dragons weren't extinct and their knowledge of magic and science could rival that of a Citadel trained Maester.
I took a long gulp of wine to hide my grin. If anyone could help me perfect the Black Powder it would be the Alchemists. Oh, and what a coincidence, I had the perfect excuse to show up on Viserys' doorstep. Thanks Alicent!
"Perhaps a change of subject is in order," I said, forestalling the brewing argument between the Queen Who Never Was and the Sea Snake. "I have actually been wondering if it might be worth travelling to King's Landing. After all, I have a new brother now and I'd be a poor sister if I didn't at least go and see him."
"I wasn't aware you were fond of your brothers?" said Rhaenys. She had a point. The last male relative I'd had any fondness for had been Prince Baelon. If one did not count Laenor, he was the only male relative I had ever had any fondness for.
"Brother or no, you're better of staying away from that pit." Corlys growled. His look of disapproval was back. I watched as he speared a vegetable with uncalled for violence.
"If scurrilous rumours are circulating in the capital perhaps it's best to go there and make a show of it." Laenor cut in. Corlys frowned as his earlier argument was flung back at him with an uncharacteristic show of backbone from his son.
"It wouldn't hurt to touch base with my supporters either." I added. I knew I'd been correct about his motives when Corlys reacted like a shark that had scented blood in the water. He drummed his fingers on the table before nodding.
"It seems appropriate," he admitted. "As much as they should come to you."
"Good luck with that, dear husband. The lords of Westeros are prickly bunch. They don't like being summoned like common servants." chuckled Rhaenys. As the atmosphere became less tense she'd begun relaxing. Corlys merely snorted in response.
Chilled fruit was served soon after.
"Regardless of your plans, it seems I can not stay here for much longer. That is why I requested this meal tonight. I need to return to the Stepstones and I've tarried here for as long as possible."
In response to Corlys' statement, Rhaenys sighed and looked harried. Laenor leant forth and, surprisingly, laid a gentle hand over mine.
"Is there news regarding Prince Daemon?" he asked. I tensed and Laenor's hand tightened about mine. The fingers of my right hand ached. I was glad Corlys had waited until the main meal was over with as at the mention of my uncle, my appetite fled. Rhaenys shot me a pained look.
"It seems the pirates once thought routed have gathered under a new banner. They will launch an attack on Bloodstone before the year is out." Corlys explained.
"The Triarchy?" asked Laenor. I wasn't paying attention though. I could not deal with thoughts of him to2night. Not after the failure of the powder and Corlys' antics.
"I shall retire." I announced, rising to my feet. If Corlys was surprised by this, he did not show it. Instead, he nodded his permission.
The Rhaenyra in me wanted to slap him. This was my castle, not his. I could not, of course. I would wait until he was gone and route out the men and women he had bought. Ser Joffrey was uncommonly good at finding and locating those with lose tongues and it would be a nice distraction from his romantic troubles. Killing them was too much but perhaps a one-way ride to Driftmark with a notice that Corlys had forgotten some of his men and women.
"Laenor, why don't you accompany your wife tonight."
For all that it was put forward as a suggestion, it was a command. One Laenor leapt to obey, his earlier show of backbone forgotten in haste to be out from underneath the all-knowing eye of his Father. I pictured his face as he read the message informing him that I had severed his power base in Dragonstone without death or violence before offering Laenor a comforting smile.
Evidently a long night's sleep and time to think up a plan were not on the cards today then.
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