LAENYS VELARYON, Lady of the Tides, princess of Dragonstone, youngest daughter of Corlys Velaryon-Lord of the Tides-and Rhaenys Targaryen-the Queen Who Never Was.
No one in all the realms believed that Rhaenys was with child when she announced it pu...
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(gore, themes of violence, sexual scenes)
After hearing not a word from Blood and Cheese, Laenys assumed that they were unsuccessful in their efforts to find Aemond, so she took a boat with Daemon back to Dragonstone. However, a raven had been flown over to the castle early in the morning, and war was coming. Laenys stood in front of an open window that looked out towards the ocean, she stood in the open hallway, she seemed to have been in shock.
Her efforts and requests in requiring blood for blood had ended with her being responsible for the death of Jaehaerys, Aegon's eldest son. She murdered an innocent child, it was one thing killing and maiming the guilty, it was another thing dragging an innocent child in the mess. Laenys clenched her jaw tightly, her red dress seemed to shimmer in the morning light. What had she done? She almost felt nauseated, according to the raven's Blood and Cheese had sawed his head off, which further gave the smallfolk the idea that it was her who had killed him.
Laenys, the beheader.
She squeezed her eyes shut as if she wanted to be awakened from this horrifying nightmare. This was what she wanted, she told herself—blood for blood, a tooth for a tooth, a son for a son. Someone had to pay the price, she said it herself. She didn't care whose blood was spilt to acquire justice.
She kept trying to convince herself that this was justice, this was her taking revenge for the murder of Prince Lucerys.
Laenys breathed in shakily before opening her eyes, turning on her heel and walking down the large hall. After the raven had arrived at Dragonstone, Rhaenrya had immediately requested a small council meeting, and Laenys felt a gnawing uncertainty about what to say. How could she explain that she intended to shed blood but not an innocent's? The shimmering Hand of the King pin on her chest felt heavier with each step, a constant reminder of the levelheadedness, intelligence, and reason she was supposed to embody but had lately forsaken.
She entered the room where the small council was gathered, and all except Rhaenrya bowed to her. "The Lady Hand," Ser Erryk announced as she passed him. Laenys avoided making eye contact with the Queen, who seemed composed as ever. She made her way to the empty chair on Rhaenrya's left-hand side. "Your Grace," she heard one of the lords address her, drawing her attention to a middle-aged man who looked at her expectantly.
"There seems to be a certain... acquaintance of yours who asks to sit in on the congregation," one of the lords announced. As his words hung in the air, the doors swung open, and Cregan Stark stormed into the room, dressed regally in Northern attire. Laenys sighed, watching him approach the table. He took a seat next to her, a grin playing on his lips. "Good morrow, Your Grace," he said, glancing between Laenys and Rhaenrya, who looked at him with surprise.
"Lord Cregan, we did not expect your company," Rhaenrya replied, her gaze shifting to Laenys, who seemed intently focused on the cup of wine in front of her.
