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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(sexual themes, acts of violence)
The moon hung high over King's Landing, casting an eerie glow over the bustling streets of Flea Bottom. Ser Baelon Rivers, the bastard son of Gael Targaryen, moved silently through the shadows, his face obscured by the hood of his cloak. He had completed his mission, delivering a crucial message to the royals: Laenys was coming for them. Now, he lingered in the city for one last task—a conversation with an old friend.
Hugh Hammer, the blacksmith, was a mountain of a man with arms like tree trunks and a heart of gold. They had met during Baelon's journey to knighthood, and their bond had remained unbroken. As Baelon approached Hugh's forge, he could see the warm glow of the fire illuminating the smith's muscular frame.
"Hugh," Baelon called softly, stepping into the light.
The blacksmith looked up from his work, his face breaking into a broad smile. "Baelon! It's been too long, my friend."
They clasped hands, the strength of their grip a testament to their shared respect. "I needed to see you before I left," Baelon said. "There's a storm coming, and I fear King's Landing will be caught in the midst of it."
Hugh nodded, his expression turning serious. "I've heard whispers. The city is on edge. Some of the smallfolk say that Ser Criston Cole is readyin' his men for battle," Baelon hummed with a grin before Hugh offered him a seat, a wooden stool. To which he sat gladly unfurling the hood from his cape. "How is it bein' Laenys the Cruel's sworn shield?" he joked, causing Baelon's smile to fade, he looked down at his feet.
"She has as much of a right as anyone to grieve... to take revenge. However... her pain is surpassing her judgment. That child is the only reason she hasn't beheaded us all already," Baelon said, Hugh Hammer hummed before his eyebrows furrowed with confusion.
"In what world is she not vengeful? The father of her only child murdered her kin. Does she not want to make him pay for what he did?" he asked causing Baelon to nod his head in agreement. Laenys was in the right, blood was sowed, and blood had been reaped. However, brutal her revenge was... she had gotten what she wanted. Not necessarily the head of Aemond Targaryen, but revenge for her poor boy lord who had died at his hands.
"I suppose you are right Hugh..." he said, offering him a kind smile. The man then placed a playful pat on his shoulder. "If only we were young boys, we would show these fools what vengeance really looks like," Hugh laughs before they had a chance to reminisce on their days of whimsical dreams a shout rang through their ears.
"You there! Halt!"
Baelon turned to see a member of the City Watch, his eyes narrowing as recognition flickered across his face. Within moments, more green-clad men appeared, surrounding Baelon. The leader of the group stepped forward, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "Ser Baelon Rivers. You're coming with us."
