𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐫 // 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧

Chapter XII

Love doesn't discriminate
Between the sinners and the saints
It takes and it takes and it takes
And we keep loving anyway
We laugh and we cry and we break
And we make our mistakes
[...]
Death doesn't discriminate
Between the sinners and the saints
It takes and it takes and it takes
And we keep living anyway
We rise and we fall and we break
And we make our mistakes

(Wait for It - Leslie Odom Jr.)

Driftmark, Hightide Castle

Jocelyn spent the journey to Driftmark in silence, while, clinging to her nephew, she enjoyed the view of the sea below. It was not the first time she had flown on a dragon, but each time it happened she felt like a child who had just been given sweets. When Aegon had told her about Laena she had felt herself sinking, again. At first she thought she had misunderstood, but the Targaryen's tense face left no room for doubt. Her sweet and brave Laena was dead, also wrapped in flames. A suicide according to many, a true dragonrider's death according to Strong. She had decided to spare herself and that poor creature who seemed trapped in her womb from immense suffering. In those long ten years, Laena had married Prince Daemon and given birth to two beautiful girls: Baela and Rhaena. The couple had often returned to King's Landing and Driftmark to greet relatives and friends, and often it was Jocelyn herself who went to Pentos to reunite with her friend and her nieces. The Councilor had organized a trip to the Free City specifically in view of Velaryon's birth. She was due to leave at the end of the month, and now here she was, on the cliffs of High Tide heading to the funeral of her best friend. Vaemond Velaryon, brother of the Sea Serpent, had offered to deliver a High Valyrian eulogy for his beloved niece, but it had all gone terribly wrong. His eulogy was anything but a fond remembrance of the deceased; it was a vile attack on the paternity of Laenor's children. Vaemond, like his brother Corlys, was an extremely ambitious man, and he desired the Wooden Throne over Lucerys. Prince Daemon laughed bitterly. He found the man disgusting and petty. His wife was about to be cast into the sea, and this being thought only of his own interests. Princess Rhaenys, clutching her two weeping and trembling nieces, glared at the Targaryen. It was then that Jocelyn stepped in to diffuse the situation, pay true homage to her friend, and spare her daughters further suffering. “Lord Vaemond, your speech was truly moving, but I would like to speak. May I?” the ebony-skinned man nodded annoyed while the Councilor caressed the Velaryon’s face engraved on the stone sarcophagus. “I remember as if it were yesterday the day Laena claimed Vhagar. Her greatest wish, to be a dragonrider, had just come true, and she, brave as few in this world, had been able to bind to herself the dragon of Visenya Targaryen, one of the Conquerors. Laena wrote three letters, one to me, one to Princess Rhaenyra and one to Queen Alicent, to warn us that she would arrive in King’s Landing and fly us to Vhagar. Needless to say, the next day we found her in the courtyard of the Keep at dawn. She was elated. I told you about this event because I believe it is the one that best describes the kind of person she was. The Gods have been unfair, but recently someone told me that they have plans for all of us. Now I do not know what plan is behind the untimely death of a woman and the child she was carrying, but one thing I do know. Laena Velaryon, she died the same way she lived. With courage, determination, strength and above all, with the soul of a warrior, of a true dragonrider. Dead in the fire as a Targaryen, she will return to the water as a Velaryon." Jocelyn finished the eulogy in tears, while Daemon Targaryen pulled her to him and hugged her. "Thank you Lady Jocelyn, that was what Laena would have wanted to hear," the Rogue Prince told her. Amid general emotion and despair, the sarcophagus was dropped into the sea, where Velaryon would rest with her ancestors. After the ceremony, the entire Court gathered in the courtyard on the cliff of Hightide Castle. Those present had engaged in tense conversations and long, awkward silences, due to the presence of the two rivals, the Princess and the Queen, who had not seen each other since Joffrey's birth. Rhaenyra and Laenor had left the court for Dragonstone the same afternoon that Jocelyn left for Harrenhal. The Councilor saw Jace heading to his cousins, trying to comfort them, while Luke was busy talking to his grandfather Corlys. A silver head, however, caught her attention. Aemond swayed wash on his feet, while he glared at Baela and Rhaena. It was obvious that he was trying to say something, but he didn’t seem to have the courage. Strong walked over to her nephew, hugged him, and kissed him on the forehead. “Go talk to them Aem.” “I don’t know what to say, aunt. Maybe I should leave it alone,” said the little Targaryen, who joined his brothers, Aegon and Daeron, who were watching their sister Helaena, who was holding a spider in her hands. The Councilor shook her head in despair. Aemond was the only one of Alicent’s family who showed even a hint of sympathy for the Velaryon side of the family, and Jocelyn tried to encourage him to relate to them in every way, but it was really difficult. The woman’s thoughts were interrupted by the vision of Lord Corlys, who first looked bitterly at the beach and then took Ser Qarl Correy, Laenor’s new lover, roughly by the shoulders. “Try to get your ‘patron’ back. He’s acting embarrassing,” the Sea Serpent told the man. Jocelyn moved forward, blocking Qarl’s path. “Lord Corlys, if you will, I would like to go to Laenor. I can understand what he’s feeling,” and without waiting for a response, she proceeded to descend the cliff steps and join her friend. Since hearing of his beloved sister’s death, Laenor had become inured to grief, and according to Rhaenyra, he had never appeared sober. Strong joined the heir of Driftmark, who had waded into the waves on the beach to be closer to Laena’s resting place. Her black dress clung to her legs as she waded through the waves and grabbed Laenor’s hand. The two looked at each other in silence, then turned their gaze to the horizon. The sound of the sea filled their ears and drowned out the piercing screams of their hearts. They were experiencing the same immense pain, they could understand each other, even if neither of them had found a way to deal with it yet. "I couldn't protect her Lyn. When we were children we made a promise: we would always help each other, no matter what or when, we would always be by each other's side, protecting each other. Laena never broke that promise, but I did" the man's shoulders slumped forward, and were quickly shaken by uncontrollable crying. Jocelyn held him close, resting her head on his. "That's not true Lenny, you were always there for her and you always protected her. This time you couldn't do anything. Even if you had been there in Pentos, holding her hand, there was nothing you could have done." she knew those words were as useless as sand in the wind, it was what they had been repeating to her for days. Despite everything, she wanted to try to save her friend from the abyss into which she had sunk. "How do you not collapse, Lyn? Please teach me..." the man fell to his knees, the water lapping at his chest, while he wrapped his arms around his friend's legs, resting his forehead on them. Jocelyn looked at the sky, trying to hold back her tears, then with a trembling voice she answered the Velaryon. "Oh Laenor, if you knew how many times I have collapsed these days. I am reduced to a pile of rubble. But for every person who has left us, there are others who rely immensely on us. We must be strong for them," the heir of Driftmark looked at her in admiration, and nodded weakly. "Let's make a pact, okay?" the woman continued. "I will never be Laena and you will never be Harwin, but from today on, you and I will be closer than ever. We will protect each other from everything and everyone, and we will face this immense pain together. *Kesi sagon lēkia se mandia ondoso iderennon, daor ondoso ānogar», Laenor stood up and offered his hand to Jocelyn, but she pulled him to her and hugged him, not caring that he was completely soaked. After a few minutes they separated and while Laenor decided to continue her walk on the beach, Jocelyn began to climb the stairs that would take her to the courtyard, where due to the sunset, the guests were returning. She saw her grandchildren silently go to their rooms, except for one, who at that precise moment was lying on the stairs stunned by too much wine. The Councilwoman quickened her pace to reach him, but someone preceded her. Lord Otto Hightower, less than five days after the death of Lord Lyonel, had presented himself at Court to reclaim his former role as Hand of the King. The latter, now weakened in body and spirit by illness, had accepted the man's proposal, also pushed by the pleas of the latter's daughter, and had renamed him his Hand. The Hightower looked around, and after making sure that no one was watching, he kicked his nephew violently and then grabbed him by the collar. He pulled him closer and seemed to say something that deeply shook the younger. Jocelyn clenched her fists and coughed, attracting attenttion upon herself. “Lord Otto, I trust you know that mistreating the King’s son is a cowardly act, as well as treason,” she said angrily, proceeding to free her grandson from the man’s grip. “Lady Jocelyn, I trust you know that Aegon is my grandson. And as his grandfather, I have a duty to educate him.” “Education does not come through kicks and slaps. Besides, Aegon is a Prince and you are the Hand of the King, those are the hierarchies that count at Court. You are an official of the King first, and a grandfather second. You must respect Aegon for what he is, that is, your Prince.” The man from Oldtown darkened and approached the woman threateningly. However, he was pushed back by his grandson, who took courage and placed himself between the two. “And you, Lady Jocelyn? Do you not respect hierarchies?” I would remind you that these boys are not even your real nephews, go and take care of those who really belong to you." "I have always respected my role, and I have never abused it, unlike some. Besides, I do not need to share the blood of these boys to love and protect them. Oh, remember one thing... Anyone who slanders the future Queen risks the death penalty." The Hand of the King looked at his nephew and his aunt in disgust, and then walked away, muttering to himself. Aegon stared at the floor in despair before realizing that he had been holding the woman's hand the entire time they were talking. "Eg, my darling, you shouldn't let yourself be treated like this. By anyone," the boy laughed bitterly. "Oh aunt, no matter what I do, say, or think, everyone always treats me like this. Even when I try to do something good, it never goes well for anyone." "Aegon, listen to me. You don't have to do anything for others, do you understand? You have to do good for yourself, not to receive approval or pats of encouragement. No one applauds the successes of others. I know how frustrating it is to be ignorant and undervalued, but that does not authorize you to be subservient to people. You have to react, take charge of your life and stop drinking, for the Gods. You are so young, do not ruin yourself already". The Targaryen then burst into tears and rested his head on Strong's shoulder. The latter was convinced that the reaction was mainly dictated by the wine. "I try to live my life, but I feel like everyone expects something from me, and since I am a good for nothing they decide for me. My mother wants to marry me to Helaena. I do not want to marry her..." The Councilor suddenly went white. She had been missing from the Red Keep for less than a week and a pandemonium had broken out. Conspiracies and bad decisions. Alicent would condemn her children to her own life: an unhappy and above all arranged marriage. Jocelyn grabbed her nephew by the face and made him look her straight in the eyes. "Eg don't worry, I'll talk to your mother and convince her..." "No aunt, it's too late. My father has already accepted and my grandfather has already warned half the most important Lords of Westeros. There's nothing you can do," said the young man before heading to his rooms. That slimy Hightower had organized everything down to the smallest detail. He was paving the way to put Aegon and Helaena on the Throne, but Strong would not allow him, even at the cost of her own life.