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THE WAILS OF VALAENA Velaryon could heard across High Tide.
The news of Laenor Velaryon's death had been given to her by Rhaenys and Corlys Velaryon, and from then it was only them who could console her. Rhaenyra had stopped by, but was quickly sent away by Rhaenys, who did not even spare the princess a look as she clutched Valaena to her chest. Rhaenyra, reluctantly, left the room. Rhaenys and Corlys were grieving - and in grief, the blame needed to be set somewhere. They needed to know why their son had been murdered so violently and without reason.
At first, Valaena had no idea why Rhaenys and Corlys had suspected Rhaenyra and Daemon of arranging Laenor's murder. Yes, she knew her parents argued - about Laenor's outings, mostly. And Valaena was not blind to the looks exchanged between Rhaenyra and Daemon at Laena's funeral, but she believed that was all there was to it - longing gazes that neither of them would act upon. That is until the day of the funeral.
Valaena had worn the same dress she had worn to Laena's funeral, having brought no other grieving wear with her when leaving for Driftmark. They hadn't exactly expected two funerals. Handmaidens had tried to style her hair, but she ended up telling them to leave, breaking down in tears at her vanity. Held tightly in her grip was a letter from Daeron expressing his condolences from Oldtown, and while she had already read it through once or twice, she still held it.
"Valaena?" The princess hadn't heard Rhaena and Baela enter, but didn't send them away as she had the handmaidens. Still, she didn't answer, finding it difficult to do so through the tears. "We will walk with you, cousin. Everyone is waiting..."
Truthfully, Valaena didn't want to attend. She didn't want to watch as they dumped what was left of her father's charred body in the sea. She didn't want their ancestors to have him - she wanted him. She needed her father. But she knew she needed to be there with the rest of her family, who she truthfully hadn't spoken to much since the news of Laenor's death.
The walk to the cliff by the coast felt like it lasted forever, Baela and Rhaena holding Valaena's hands as they walked either side of her. They hardly knew each other but remembered the way Valaena had comforted them during their mother's funeral.
Unlike Laena's, Laenor's funeral was smaller in attendance. It was short notice, and so only the immediate family were aware resent. Rhaenys, Corlys with his brother Vaemond and his two sons Daemion and Daeron. And there was Daemon, standing not too far from Rhaenyra, Jacaerys, Lucerys and Joffrey. Valaena stood with her mother, purposefully standing between her mother and Daemon. Even further distance was put between them as Rhaena and Baela stood beside Valaena.
The service went much like Laena's. Valaena only heard parts, eyes often swaying back to stare at Laenor's sarcophagus, vision immediately blurring with tears whenever she did so. She hadn't even noticed when Jacaerys moved to stand beside her to replace Baela, holding her hand tightly. This prompted her to reach out for Lucerys, bringing him to stand in front of her, her hand resting on his shoulder.
