The Top of Blackfyre Tower
Rhaenys and her friend, Hael, made their way toward Lord Maelor, who was standing apart, his gaze fixed on his dragon as it soared alongside the two giant Velaryon dragons. Rhaenys was both surprised and quietly unsettled to see that the Velaryons possessed dragons larger than those of House Targaryen. The two behemoths were nearly the size of Maelor Drakonar's dragon, Balerion.
"You did not relay that the boy possesses this kind of power," Lord Maelor said when they reached his side. His eyes remained on the two Velaryon dragons.
"I would have, had I known myself, Lord Maelor," Rhaenys replied honestly. "I was as surprised as you both were by that display of power." Her own blood had not warned her of this. Rhaenys intended to demand an explanation the moment she returned to her solar.
"What of them, this Velaryon, I mean?" Hael Drakonar asked next, curiosity evident in her tone. "Did they ask for our help as well?"
"No. Freeholder Velaryon has already met with them since he was here when they arrived and promised that no harm would come to his kin," Rhaenys answered. "So this dragonlord Velaryon has yet to ask for aid—be it from you, or even from me."
Truthfully, Rhaenys was anxious. There was no denying that the Velaryon boy's display of power had been in response to a provocation—but the one standing before him was not just any dragonlord of Valyria. It was a Drakonar. A family capable of bringing ruin not only upon him and his kin, but upon Rhaenys and the Targaryens as well, should they wish it. And the calm expressions worn by her friend and her husband did little to soothe her unease.
"You must not allow these Velaryons to be swayed by an enemy faction, Lady Rhaenys," Maelor said heavily, finally turning to face her. "If your kin ally with us, then these Velaryons will become our enemies as well. Powerful enemies—ones we cannot afford to let our rivals claim."
"You must not," he added firmly.
"Forgive me, Lord Drakonar," Rhaenys muttered, "but I have no power over whom they choose to ally with. I fear even my kin have been poisoned by Aegor Velaryon's words and now stand against you." She hesitated, then whispered, "Your demands did not help either, my lord."
Her anxiety eased only slightly when she realized the truth: the Drakonar lord desired Laenor Velaryon in his faction. And she could see why. The man was not yet three decades old, yet wielded immense power and commanded colossal dragons. If the Velaryons aligned with their Valyrian kin, the Drakonar rival faction—led by House Aetharyon—would gain a dangerous advantage since Velaryon of Valyria is in the faction led by Aetharyon, tipping the Council's delicate balance. That was something Maelor Drakonar would not allow at any cost.
Relief—and a spark of satisfaction—stirred within Rhaenys, though she did not dare show it.
"I asked for no more than what they would receive in return," Maelor said through clenched teeth. Above them, Balerion released an angry roar, echoing his lord's fury. "Drakonar protection does not come cheaply. Make them understand this."
"If breaking the betrothal with the Velaryon is the obstacle, then I will grant them time," he continued. "The demand remains—a Targaryen daughter will marry into House Drakonar. It need not be now. That is the limit of my generosity, Lady Rhaenys."
His frown faded as he schooled his expression.
"This is all we ask, my lord," Rhaenys replied with a grateful smile. "I will do my utmost to convince them and expel the poison Aegor Velaryon has sown."
At least some good had come from that display of power. Truly, her kin would receive no better terms than these.
"And what of that Velaryon?" Hael asked, curiosity sharpening her voice.
Maelor rubbed at his temple before answering. "For now, I intend to invite them to dine with us—after a day or two. During that time, I want you, Lady Rhaenys, to make something very clear to them."
He turned fully to her.
"Tell them what awaits them if they bind themselves to Freehold Velaryon. Tell them they will never be head of the family. And as powerful as this Laenor is, I doubt he would tolerate bowing to another man—one who is a stranger to him until now, not to mention dragonless and powerless before him."
"Lord Velaryon must have considered this already," Rhaenys replied quietly.
"He would have, Aegor is no fool," Maelor agreed. "But he can do nothing where we can. What will Aegor do? Relinquish his position? Name Laenor as heir?" He scoffed. "That man is far too proud—and far too greedy."
"If this Laenor seeks a station befitting his power—as a lord and head of one of the Forty—then only I, Maelor Drakonar, can grant it." He laughed softly. "Yes. This will be the bait to catch such a large fish."
Rhaenys understood immediately. Opportunities such as headship of one of the Forty were rare—granted only to those favored by the Five. Such an opportunity only comes when one of the forty is on the brink of extinction and only have daughter as the last heir, then from her, a new dragonlord line comes forth.
Her thoughts raced through the houses teetering on extinction. One name surfaced instantly.
"Is it the headship of House Zaldri you speak of, Lord Maelor?" she asked.
"Yes," he confirmed. "After the deaths of Melisa Zaldri's two brothers—Aurane and Aurion—she is the last of her bloodline. And as they are deeply indebted to us, I hold the right to marry her as I see fit, thereby granting lordship of one of the Forty."
"I can see how that would benefit both Velaryon and Zaldri," Hael mused. "Melisa's dragon is young—barely large enough to carry her skyward. Convincing her to unite her house with Velaryon and take their name would not be difficult, especially given her fear that House Gontaris might kill her… or worse."
"Should I inform them?" Rhaenys asked.
"No," Maelor replied. "You will only inform them of their fate should they choose to join their kin. I will speak with Melisa first. In two days' time, both Velaryons and Melisa will be summoned to Balerion Tower. There, I will present the offer."
Rhaenys nodded. They spoke further—of Laenor's power, its possible origins, and what it might mean for Valyria. Rhaenys promised to relay anything she learned.
Soon after, Maelor and Hael departed upon their dragon.
Rhaenys exhaled deeply. She bore no hatred toward the Velaryons—but her first duty was to her kin. If steering them toward Drakonar required selective truths or gentle lies, she would do so without hesitation.
With those thoughts, she turned and made her way back toward her solar.
Laenor Velaryon
Laenor paid little attention to the words his father and the king were exchanging and instead tried to hear the words spoken at the top of the tower. When he first transmigrated into the body of Laenor Velaryon, he had not possessed great strength, heightened hearing, or any sort of superhuman physical constitution. But as his power—both magical and divine—continued to grow, the vessel that contained it had grown stronger as well.
Even so, it seemed the magic of the black stone was somehow interfering with his senses, because no matter how he focused, he was unable to hear a single word from above.
Defeated, Laenor sank back into his seat and waited for Rhaenys Belaerys's return. He did not have to wait too long before the lady graced them with her presence again. This time, however, her eyes never once left him.
Taking her seat, she spoke without preamble. "What are you? What kind of power was that? Was it magic?" Rhaenys asked bluntly.
"No, not quite," Laenor replied calmly. "The power I use is different—and more powerful—than magic. In a way, you could say I am more blessed than my kin." It was a half-truth, carefully chosen. There was no chance he would reveal his origin to her, not here, not now. Though Laenor did think it was past time he let his parents in on the secret of his half-divine nature.
Lady Rhaenys's face turned sour at his answer, and she shifted her attention away from him and toward Viserys instead, clearly unwilling to pursue the matter further with Laenor for now. She relayed Maelor's words to the king, speaking of how low the Drakonar lord was willing to go in the terms. Viserys listened in silence, his expression thoughtful, before finally opening his mouth.
"Lord Maelor said that we must first understand the politics of the dragonlords before we can grasp why he asks so much in return for his protection," Viserys said. After that, he looked at her with patient interest, clearly ready to learn how dragonlord politics differed from the courtly games of Westeros.
Laenor straightened in his seat as well, his attention fully captured now. He was keen to understand how Valyrian dragonlords truly played their games.
Rhaenys nodded, seemingly pleased, and began. "The Forty of the Freehold are divided into factions, each vying for greater influence within the Council and across the councils of the Free Cities. Accumulating wealth and glory is another struggle entirely, and it is also bloodier. The Drakonars lead one such faction as its head, with ten powerful dragonlord families bound to them through ancient oaths and blood contracts. Another—"
"Wait a moment, Lady Rhaenys," Daemon interrupted, surprise flashing in his eyes. "What is this blood contract you speak of?"
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