113 AC, Winterfell
Laenor had truly wanted to go beyond the Wall, and exploring the crypts had been his second great motivation for agreeing to come here. But it seemed he could do neither. The Old Gods had explicitly forbidden him from setting foot inside the Crypts of Winterfell, and Laenor had already abandoned the thought of venturing into the lands beyond the Wall—due to him deciding not to use any of his powers within the domains of other gods, lest he anger them needlessly, and going to those lands without enough manpower or his magic and hydromancy in his arsenal is bad decision. Not to mention the warning he had received from the Old Gods that day.
Memory Flash
"WE HAVE NO PROBLEM WITH YOU USING YOUR MAGIC HERE IN THE NORTH. NO GOD IS ALLOWED TO MEDDLE IN THE AFFAIRS OF MORTALS WITHOUT THE EXPLICIT PERMISSION OF THE COUNCIL. DOING SO WOULD RESULT IN TRIAL JUST AS THOSE THREE HAD. YOU ARE FREE TO USE THE POWER YOU ARE BLESSED WITH—THOUGH WE WARN YOU NOT TO ENTER THE CRYPTS. EXCEPT FOR DEAD STARKS, THERE ARE MANY THINGS THERE THAT ARE OF BYGONE ERAS, AND THEY SHOULD STAY UNSEEN BY MEN OF TODAY," said the Old Gods of Nature. Laenor is really confused about what to think of them as such, even in his mind.
Laenor, feeling a spark of bravery, had asked them if he could use magic in the North or if they objected. Having already retold his side of the story, and with Nature yet to depart, Laenor had thought to take the opportunity to ask a simple question. Receiving a response emboldened him further—and prompted another question that could decide his next course of action, now that the task he had come to Winterfell for was done and signed.
"I was thinking of venturing beyond the Wall," Laenor said politely. "To see the lands on that side of the world and perhaps find the children of the forest—to speak with them. Should I be worried about another attack from gods I do not yet know of?"
The heart tree he was speaking to telepathically shuddered at that. Laenor, lacking the skill to interpret what that shuddering meant, stayed silent and still, waiting for what would come next.
"WE WILL ONLY SAY THIS—GO BEYOND THE WALL AT YOUR OWN PERIL. THE STORM AND WE HAD A CONFLICT LONG AGO, AND WE DO NOT LIKE OUR BROTHER TO BE ANGRY WITH US OVER SOMETHING THAT IS NOT OUR DOING FOR SO LONG. SO WHEN HE CAME TO US SEEKING OUR HELP, WE WERE GLAD FOR THE CHANCE TO MEND THE PATHS ONCE BROKEN. YOU ARE HIS CHILD, AND THAT IS WHY WE WARN YOU NOT TO SET FOOT BEYOND THAT WALL. YOU ARE STILL YOUNG, CHILD OF STORM, AND THE STORM HAS YET TO TELL YOU ABOUT THE WORLD YOU LIVE IN. BE KIND TO YOURSELF AND YOUR PARENT—HEED OUR WARNING. GO TO THE STORM; SEE IF HE CAN TEMPER THIS WILD CURIOSITY OF YOURS WITH SOME TRUTHS OF THIS WORLD."
The booming voice in his mind carried anger, though Laenor—prepared for the worst—was relieved when they left his thoughts the moment they were done speaking, leaving him only with more questions and a growing urge to journey to Storm's End as soon as he could.
End of Memory Flash
And that was why Laenor and his party were set to leave today at midday. The Old Gods—though Laenor still found it strange not to call them that, for "Nature" felt unfamiliar on his tongue—had told him that the Three were to be "dispensed for some time." So Laenor decided to travel by ship instead of horseback, a choice both he and Aurane had agreed upon before when they did not know about the Three's trial. Neither wished to be caught in another divine entanglement.
The Manderlys had agreed to lend Laenor several ships—not out of kindness, of course. He had paid them handsomely, and there was also the matter of repairing his own damaged vessels. Manderly men would deliver them to Driftmark once the ships are repaired and ready to enter the seas again.
Though Laenor had not gained everything he'd hoped for, the trip was far from a waste. He had explored Winterfell, one of the oldest keeps in Westeros, met both the current and future Lords of the North, and made use of every opportunity presented—winning friendships through sparring bouts he never lost, and drinking competitions he rarely did. And then there was Rhaenyra, who had been glued to his side almost the entire time of his stay.
A soft bump to his arm drew him from his thoughts. Turning his head, his dark-blue eyes met Rhaenyra's violet ones. The woman truly had not left his side for more than a few hours since he had arrived—and it seemed he was now out of those allotted hours.
"Greetings, Crown Princess," Laenor said, a teasing smile curving his lips.
"Greetings to you too, Lord of the Sea," Rhaenyra replied with a smirk.
Her happy expression quickly soured as she shivered against the cold. Laenor chuckled at her annoyance and turned his gaze back to the snow falling before them. It was still morning, and standing out on the balcony was no small discomfort for one like Rhaenyra—a creature of fire through and through. She clutched his arm, hugging it close to her chest, leaning as near as she could. Laenor raised an eyebrow but said nothing, instead letting his eyes wander back to the white flakes drifting down.
"Syrax is big and old enough to carry two people on her back to Dragonstone," Rhaenyra said, resting her head on his shoulder. The faint scent of lavender from her hair reached Laenor's nose as she spoke softly, "You should come with me—instead of travelling slowly by sea."
Her voice was low, inviting, and her offer dangerously tempting.
"I would love to soar through the clouds on Syrax's back again, but sadly, I must rely on the slower method of travel, Rhaenyra. I don't think Aurane is ready to sail from White Harbor to Driftmark on his own just yet," said Laenor with a sigh. Truly, he would have loved to make for Dragonstone through the clouds, but his crew needed him more. Not to mention, if he truly wished, he could have come on Embaryx's back instead of by ship.
Rhaenyra huffed and said, "You have yet to accept our betrothal agreement as well—and don't try to deny it. If you had accepted, then Father would have sent me a letter informing me of the arrangements to announce it to the realm." Rhaenyra released her hold on Laenor's arm and turned to look him in the eyes. "Don't tell me those rumors about you are true, Laenor?" she asked with a strange look on her face.
"You have to be specific, Rhaenyra. There are many rumors about me," Laenor said, confused. There were, indeed, many rumors—claims that he sacrificed children and maidens for sorcery, or that he was part seahorse and part man—each one more absurd than the last.
"The one that says…" Rhaenyra trailed off, her eyes flickering toward the leather belt around Laenor's waist.
"What? I don't understand. Out with it," Laenor said impatiently, confused and slightly concerned. As far as he knew, Rhaenyra was bold and never hesitated to speak her mind. If she was hesitating now, that meant these rumors were something Laenor wouldn't want spreading.
"The one that says you prefer swords over sheaths… you know," Rhaenyra muttered, turning her face aside, embarrassed yet cautious of how Laenor would react.
It didn't take even a heartbeat for Laenor to understand what she was implying. His eyes widened in shock that such rumors even existed in this world, where he had shown no interest in men whatsoever.
"Where?" Laenor asked in a low, dangerous whisper. "Where did you hear these kinds of rumors? Who the fuck is spreading them? When I get my hands on the one responsible, I'll kill them—no, I'll hand them to a sword swallowers and let them have their way with that damned coward who started this filth!" The rage and betrayal he felt at that moment were unlike anything Laenor had experienced in this world. Did he need to visit a brothel and bed whores just to prove that he was straight? If there was anything Laenor feared most after inheriting this body and identity, it was this. No straight man liked to be called a sword lover behind his back. Maybe it was past time he took a tour through the brothels of Driftmark—or perhaps Lys—because he sure as hell wouldn't let these kinds of rumors circulate across the realm.
"So… they're not true?" asked Rhaenyra slowly. Laenor turned his gaze toward her and shook his head vehemently.
"Of course not! I do not love swords. Have you ever seen me eyeing any man with that gaze? How could you even believe those rumors, Rhaenyra?" Laenor demanded, his voice sharp.
"I didn't believe them! I just thought, since you're not accepting the betrothal…" Rhaenyra said hastily.
"I have my reasons for that—and you'll know them soon enough once I return home," Laenor said curtly. With that, he turned around and strode toward the chamber that had been given to him in Winterfell.
One more task added to his list: find the bastard who spread these lies about him.
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