"Beast. Tyrant. Merciless. They whisper these names behind my back. But when I say, I love you, it is not out of desire, nor out of denial. It is not for my sake at all. I love you for what you are, for what you do, for how you fight. I have witness...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The bells of the Great Sept tolled faintly in the distance as King Maegor made his way to the royal gardens once more this time not for solace, but diplomacy.
The sun burned low in the sky, painting the Red Keep in hues of fire and gold. Flowers bloomed all around, perfuming the air with rose and orange blossom. Yet Maegor felt none of its beauty. His jaw was tight. His stride stiff.
He had just concluded peace talks with the envoys of Lys, Pentos, and Yi Ti, each of them demanding coin, trade routes, or courtesy. But now came the more delicate diplomacy: a walk with a fifteen year-old girl promised to him in marriage.
A girl.
Laena Velaryon.
Waiting in a garden arch covered in blooming bougainvillea, Lord Corlys Velaryon, the Sea Snake himself, stood tall and proud, watching his daughter and the King. His blue cloak shimmered like ocean water, and his expression was already glowing with imagined glory Velaryon blood on the throne again. Queen Laena. House Velaryon rising like the tide.
Laena approached as rehearsed, cloaked in House Velaryon’s finery. Coral and gold shimmered on her neck, her long silver-blonde hair woven with tiny pearls by her mother’s hand. Her eyes, wide and lilac, sparkled with hope or was it fear?
“Your Grace,” she curtsied, her voice soft as silk.
Maegor forced a smile, a poor imitation of warmth. “Lady Laena.”
He offered his arm, and she took it, her hand small and cool against his gauntlet. They began to stroll slowly through the gardens, their footsteps crunching against gravel.
The silence was thick.
Laena, trying to break it, asked with a practiced grin, “What is it like… flying Valérion, Your Grace?”
He blinked. “Fierce,” he said flatly. “She’s sleek, daring. Formidable. But I think… she still misses the Black Dread.”
He exhaled long and low. “With Balerion gone, she is the last memory of Valyria’s doomfire… but even she grieves.”
Laena's face brightened at the mention. “But Vhagar still lives… somewhere. Valérion is large, but I’ve heard Vhagar is mightier still.”
“Too large for the Dragonpit,” Maegor said dryly. “Some would say too large for this world.”
Laena tilted her head. “Do you know where she nests, Your Grace?”
Maegor blinked, distracted. His mind wandered to darker places. Why am I here? Why must I entertain this madness? This child, barely grown meant to be my wife? He felt bile rise in his throat.
He refocused. “Hm? Oh. The Dragonkeepers believe she’s taken to the cliffs along the Narrow Sea.”
“Laenys and the stewards at Spice Town say they hear her song at night,” Laena said, her voice softening. “They say it’s… sad.”
![TO LOVE A KING || Maegor II Targaryen [SLOW UPDATES]](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/367641067-64-k416897.jpg)