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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:557,693
The Blacks, The Greens and The Reds
Loke_Lyon
Chapter 8: Opening Moves - Chapter 7
Chapter Text
It had been Laenor who'd had the sense to arrange a further meeting about setting up a satellite campus on Dragonstone and access to the 'book'. I'd been too busy trying to set my feelings in order. In order to create Black Powder in sufficient quantities I would need to wade through a literal river of blood. I would burn through any reputation I developed. It would be worse than original Rhaenyra, worse than Maegor even.
I blinked in the afternoon light as Laenor steered me into the litter. I felt numb. What kind of bullshit logic did this place operate on? All this talk about ancient tablets, the Long Night and blood magic was taking a second seat to the fact that even when the first round of testing had not worked I'd still assumed I'd get the Black Powder somehow. That I'd still have guns and that all the politics could be avoided with a superior show of firepower.
When the litter stopped we were not at the Red Keep but the Dragonpit. At my questioning look, Laenor smiled and placed a warm hand over my cool one.
"You looked upset. I figured we could make a start on that promise to fly together," he said, with a reassuring smile.
"Thank you. And… Thank you for sorting things out with Wisdom Jerrett." I had to fight a wince at my tone. I sounded exhausted. I felt exhausted. I wanted nothing more than to fly to Dragonstone, curl up in my bed and weep at how unfair it all was. He held me close for a few moments and I tried not to care about that jolt of wrongness.
The flight on Syrax cheered me up. The feeling of freedom that being a Princess tended to strangle. As Seasmoke and Syrax danced over the waves we caught sight of the vast bulk of Vhagar flying alongside two ships. One bore a Velaryon banner and the other Targaryen one. Together, Laenor and I moved in, circling Vhagar. She was not a fast beast and our playful flitting back forth certainly got a rise out of her rider if the yelling was any indication.
I felt better by the time we had all landed and the dragons moved into Dragonpit. Less like the world had ended but I still felt fragile, as if any little thing could shatter me. I couldn't afford to shatter in King's Landing. I happily sank into Laena's hug before moving away and laughing as Laenor ruffled his sister's immaculate ringlets and she slapped at his hands in mock annoyance.
"So, I hear you were on the wrong end of Father recently," Laena mentioned as we clambered into the litter. Laenor groaned and Laena laughed. She was in an odd position when it came to her father. She was the second half of his grand plan to cement his legacy. Beautiful, wealthy and equipped with a dragon, Corlys had sought marry his daughter to my father, the King, because aim high I guess. When he failed, he'd used her to secure Braavos' support in his upcoming conquest.
A marriage to the then Sea Lord's son with the understanding he would have the prestige of a dragon rider for a wife, the Sea Snake's incredible wealth and the subtle pressure of his wife's family controlling shipping in the narrow sea via the Stepstones backing him to succeed his father when he died. But the Sea Lord of Braavos' died early and Tycheo Hartios had proved an utter wastrel. He'd quickly squandered his father's money after his death by making several appallingly bad investments. Investments that had actually managed to damage his family name by sheer association. Apparently the Braavosi nobles saw lack of financial acumen as major turn off much as one dishonourable family member could tank a Westerosi House for generations, I supposed. By the time Laena was eligible to marry he'd been a penniless scion of a declining house.
Corlys' pride would not allow him to marry his daughter to such a man but a lot of the upfront money for the Conquest had been Hartios money. The Iron Bank themselves were involved when the contract was written and the contract stated she was to marry him. So Corlys came up with excuse after excuse as to why the wedding couldn't happen yet whilst plying Tycheo with wine and women in the hope the fool would get himself killed.
No wonder he'd jumped on Daemon marrying Laena in the original timeline, in fact, I'd take a bet that Corlys had asked Daemon to rid him of the stupid boy in the process. Just mentioning his name would have Corlys grinding his teeth, a fact I can assure you I did not take advantage of.
The odd intersection of the deadlock on the marriage front, the massive dragon and Laena's own personality meant her father was completely unsure of how to deal with her and so solved his problem by not dealing with her at all. As far as I could tell, as long as he was unable to incorporate her into his ongoing plans to strengthen House Velaryon, he liked to pretend she didn't exist.
"Rhaenyra dared have an original idea," said Laenor dryly, sending Laena into peels of laughter. "He took it as well as expected."
That just made Laena laugh harder.
"He blundered though. Now I know he has men on Dragonstone I intend to send them back to him via Driftmark," I said lightly. Laenor frowned, likely realising that I was referring to Joffrey. No doubt he was worrying about the Knight being in danger. Corlys was basically a more restrained Tywin, I'd come to realise. He would not strike at me for the insult but Joffrey had no such protection.
"Oh, I would pay to see Father's face when he gets that note from Mother. Probably along with her commentary as well. 'Damn you, you thick-headed fool!'"
Laena's excellent impression of her mother had me chuckling as well as Laenor guffawing. The ride back was spent with the two siblings making increasingly more ridiculous impressions of their parents. The horror of my earlier discovery seemed so far away but before I could let myself make plans for the future, I had to live through a meal with Harwin and Larys.
Before that, we had to show our faces at court. Viserys greeted Laena warmly and Laenor and I chatted with Lord Hayford and one of the Rosbys. Both Houses were Blacks through and through but it was always a good idea to reinforce that loyalty. In addition, Laenor had managed to arrange a sit down meeting with Lord Wendwater through his nephew by discussing timber shipments. Today would not be a total loss then.
Lord Wendwater was a hesitant Green. Given the complete lack of knowledge about where the young, impetuous Boros Baratheon would jump, he was right to be hesitant. The Stormlands bordered Lord Wendwater's lands and would make a juicy target should the Stormlands declare for a different claimant. I had been hoping to start on the other side of the Crownlands in Cracklaw Point but those Lords rarely came to court. I spent the rest of the session tracking down and persuading the Black leaning Lord Celtigar to help me with the matter.
Laena left us late on so that we could prepare to meet the Strong's. Laenor thought it important we coordinated in order to subtly reinforce the fact Harwin had no chance with me, just in case he was still harbouring any mistaken thoughts. Which meant I got to try on a whole bunch of dresses, much to my internal glee. The current court style was heavily influenced by the Reach, not one I could imitate for obvious reasons, so finding a fashionable solution to that dilemma was always fun.
I had adopted a Vale influenced wardrobe, for the most part. The long swishy dresses that accentuated the figure usually accompanied by an equally swishy mantle that could be made to evoke wings, useful for falcons and dragons. Whereas most of the Vale dresses were woollen, I favoured silks and satins in materials. I did not need the dresses to last, nor did I need them to keep me warm. I opted for black and teal colour scheme, evoking mine and Laenor's House's.
Laenor had little interest in fashion, like most Westerosi lords he liked to be seen as above it, but he trusted me when it came to saying it with clothes and figuring out what others were saying with their style of dress so I didn't have to swat the back of his head too much as I ordered the servants to lay out his outfit.
It had been a good idea to start preparing early as it turned out, we'd barely gotten ourselves dressed when Larys and Harwin arrived.
Harwin was a gorgeous man. Tall, muscled and with a face that could melt any maiden's heart and bearing that distinctive nose that would be as good as a smoking gun if I gave into the temptation, it really was not hard to see why Rhaenyra had risked everything to be with him. Larys, on the other hand, was everything his brother was not. He walked with a limp due to his twisted foot, his face could charitably be described as interesting when he smiled which was not a regular occurrence and he had peculiar, intense way of looking at you that gave you the impression he was trying to imagine you without clothes on.
Given a choice, I'd take a talk with Larys over Harwin any day. He was breathtakingly intelligent and whilst shy, when he did speak it was always worth paying attention to him. Harwin on the other hand was quite willing to blather out every single thought that entered his fool head and I can assure you, very little of his thoughts were worth they energy it took to have them.
As much as Larys was the complete opposite of a Westerosi lord, Harwin was the epitome of one.
"Sorry we're early, Your Grace. It's difficult to time things with limpy here." The shove that accompanied the comment nearly sent Larys sprawling the but the smaller man recovered. Larys' face did not move from it's usual scowl but his eyes were full of hate. If Harwin wasn't even making the effort to reign in his usual Westerosi dickishness tonight was not going to be fun.
"It's not a problem, Ser Strong. Larys is a friend and I'm always willing to make accommodations for my friends." I aimed a bright smile at the clubfoot but failed to coax one in return. I took his arm and guided him to the table, sitting him next to me if only to serve as a barrier against Harwin's ongoing inane chatter.
If the start of the meal was awkward it only became more so as time went on. Harwin alternated between taking cheap shots at his brother, shamelessly flirting with me, drinking enough wine to kill a horse and implying that Laenor was gay or possibly a woman in disguise. Some of his insults were a bit indistinct. Larys kept quiet, only speaking to correct his brother's more outrageous claims and to ask how Ser Joffrey had recovered from the accident at my wedding tourney. He seemed happy to learn that Joffrey was up and about, finding ways to make himself useful. Both I and Laenor were wondering when Larys had even befriended Joffrey. I resolved to ask him about it next time I saw him.
Finally, as we finished up dessert, I broached the topic I had invited them for.
"I must admit I had an alternative motive for inviting you tonight," I said, as the servants cleared the table. Harwin perked up like a dog at the sound of the treat packet being opened but Larys merely nodded as if he'd completely expected this.
"Do you require our support in some kind scheme?" asked Harwin, eagerly. I forced myself not to grimace. If I ever wanted to sheme, it'd be Larys I'd choose. How Harwin had not given the game away himself in the original timeline was probably considered a minor miracle by some religions.
"No, nothing like that, Ser Strong." Laenor butted in, hastily. "You are aware of course that until she was four my lady wife lived in the Tower of the Hand?" Harwin look puzzled as if that had never occurred to him before but Larys merely nodded for him to continue.
"As a child I was fond of exploring the tunnels in the Tower. I fear they are littered with old possessions of mine. I was wondering if you would allow me access so that I could reclaim them."
"Tunnels? I was unaware of this," Larys responded before Harwin could even open his mouth.
"Regardless, I'd be happy to accompany to accompany you," Harwin quickly said, cutting off anything else his brother could say. It was what I had expected but luckily Laenor had come up with several excuses to lure the older Strong brother into staying with him. Harwin had little argument and was forced to sit there like a big, dumb puppy that knew it had done something wrong but couldn't quite figure out what as Larys limped his way out the door as I followed.
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