Pre-Chapter A/N:I think at this point, we just have to accept that I will inevitably show up with two chapters a week. As for when those chapters show up, I think it's best I not make any particular promises. If you haven't already, I recommend turning on notifications for my stuff so you can see when new stuff drops right as it drops. More chapters on my patreon(https://www.patreon.com/c/Oghenevwogaga)— same username as here and link in bio.
MID 110 AC
"Now how many panes did you say you wanted?" I asked the Braavosi representative as we looked down at the massive storage building I'd made for the glass we were producing. The alliance with Yronwood and The Tor had seen us receiving even better sand, and thanks to the optimizations we'd already implemented for using less than perfect inputs, we were able to scale production to the point where we were making so much glass that storage had become an issue. A brief issue thanks to our latest addition to our industrial base, but one nonetheless.
"Enough to remodel the Sealord's entire palace." The man said, still looking somewhat shocked— probably both at the amount of the glass and the clearness of each pane.
"Indeed. I can have one of my builders sent to estimate how many you would need for the process," I offered.
"There is no need. Braavos has the best architects in the world. I have a few of them in my entourage. The measurements for the panes you have will be enough," he said.
"We can also produce curved panes at an increased price," I said, adding something to sweeten the pot.
"Indeed. My architects will let you know what is needed," he said. I nodded. — "How are our finances looking?" I started the meeting off with.
"Without persistent spending on building and food stockpiling, Bloodstone would be profitable at this point," Bernard said, not bothering to hide how much he wanted me to dial things back.
"And with our present rate of spending continuing as is?" I asked.
"We can expect for incomes from glass sales to continue to cover expenditure for the next few moons. Of course, this is predicated on another bulk order like the Sealord's not coming in. If such an order comes in, then we can expect to move into profitability," he said.
"Good then," I noted.
"At least we are no longer bleeding gold on a daily basis," Laena said.
"Indeed. And the projects on the outer isles? What is Vaemond's latest report?" I asked.
"He said the construction of the watchtowers is progressing at pace. This latest invention, concrete, while expensive to produce at present is accelerating the rate of progress meaningfully. All towers should be fully completed by this time next year at present rates," Bernard reported. I nodded. That was good enough. Concrete had been a bitch and a half to figure out but it was so worth it.
"And the shipyard?"
"Complete and ready. The incomplete ships arriving from Driftmark should be finished in a matter of weeks rather than the moons as initially estimated."
"Good." Another win. One would almost have thought that all I did was win. And they wouldn't have been wrong…but for one thing.
"And Volantis?"
"Our ships are still turned back at their port. Their refusal to allow us sell goods at their markets or to sell to us in turn continues unabated." Lovely. Just lovely.
"And they still refuse to enter into any meaningful dialogue?" I asked, even if I knew what the answer was already.
"Their message remains the same— leave the Stepstones."
"Lovely," I said sarcastically, turning away.
"I'd love to see them say that when we burn that fleet of theirs— or when we burn them in their manses," Laena said. I shook my head.
"No. Leave them be. We'd do nothing but put ourselves in another war. And this one would be one we'd be putting ourselves into. We'd have to divert ships and men to work instead of building and trade. And even if we won, we'd have to wait for Volantis to recover before they become a viable market. Attacking them to force them to trade with us isn't going to be a viable option for a while yet," I said.
"So what would you have us do, my Lord?"
"Stop wasting resources trying to reach out. Let Volantis starve behind her walls while the rest of the world progresses at a rate they can't imagine," I said, ending the discussion there. There was no point progressing beyond that. — I rode through the city that I had built feeling many things. The main emotion, sadly enough, was disappointment. I'd fucked it up. Even with the benefit of understanding city planning at a level far beyond the best that this world had to offer. Even with the benefit of Aegon's example with King's Landing, I'd made the same mistake.
So focused I'd been on getting glass off the ground, and then with the discovery of limestone down in Ithaca and the subsequent development of cement, I had been unable to notice the way things had come together to create a warped set of incentives. I had built a city of passable houses with wood as best I could, and then cement was brought into the equation so people could build for themselves at very little cost.
Of course they had done that. My initial city plan had fallen to the wayside. And I had been too busy with my head in the clouds to even notice it.
"I know we're not exactly in a rush, but just standing still and waiting can't be that entertaining to you, can it?" Laena's voice reached my ears.
I nodded, not replying, but spurred my horse to move a bit faster to show that I had heard her words.
We arrived at our destination, and with thoughts of the city on my mind, I failed to show the appropriate level of enthusiasm in the face of what was actually good work.
"Does the shipyard displease you, my lord?" I snapped to attention at being directly addressed. Something must have shown on my face that I didn't want it to because the man across from me had already begun apologizing.
"Stop apologizing, Rhaenos. This is good work— great work. Especially when you consider what we have to work with here. My mind was just on something else. I should be the one apologizing for wasting your time by not paying attention."
And if those words were meant to make him feel better, they had had the opposite effect. The apologies were even more intense after that.
"No no, my lord. No need to apologize to this one. This one is sorry if this one has displeased, my lord. This one—"
"Enough, Rhaenos. I have already said that you have done good job and haven't displeased me in any way," I said, cutting him off.
And before he could return to ranting or whatever, I changed the subject.
"When can the shipyard be expected to produce full ships of its own instead of just completing ships from Driftmark?" I asked.
"With consistent wood inflows both from Dorne and Westeros, we can expect production to reach that level in a matter of nine to thirteen moons," he said. I nodded. That worked well enough.
"And the other project?"
"Still in the first phases. Getting the shipyard to a sustainable level of quality with the builders and everything has been our major focus so far. I have considered a few options for achieving it but nothing concrete yet," he said. That was fine as well.
"All is in order, then," I said.
—xxxxx—
"That better not be what I think it is," Laena said as she walked into my solar. I looked up from my rough drawings to look at her. She couldn't even see what I was working on, so I was curious about what she was on about now.
"And what do you think it is?" I asked.
"Yet another project," she said. Ok, that was a shockingly good read. I looked down at the drawings. Well, in some ways it wasn't really a new project. The city was part of the plan from the beginning after all.
"You're wrong," I said.
She walked on over, hips swaying as she did so, and I felt my mouth dry up as she got closer and closer. Then she was leaning over the table right towards me. I braced myself for a kiss, but she stopped just short of my lips. Her lips in turn spread into a smile, and then she snatched her face back. With it was my journal.
"Hold on."
"Another city? Really Laenor? Of all the things you could work on right now."
"It's not a new one. Bloodcity looks terrible. We need to have it done again," I said.
"For the seventeenth and final time, Laenor, no one is going to call it Bloodcity," she said first.
"So you say. The name will catch on. I just have to use it often enough," I said.
"No one. I repeat, no one, is ever going to call the city Bloodcity when a nice name like Bloodport is just right there for the taking," she said, pitching her own name.
"Bloodcity is a much better name than Bloodport, can we be serious for a moment," I said.
"Not even close to being true, but that's besides the point. You can't rebuild the city."
"Watch me." I could actually rebuild the city. We had some spare manpower I could take from the glass factories now that we had a good stockpile on hand and no immediate bulk orders to work on. And with the advancement in concrete and miners on loan from the Westerlands, it was a perfect storm of factors. Laena sighed at my words, placing her hand on the bridge of her nose.
"That was stupid on my part. What I meant to say was that you shouldn't rebuild the city."
"Have you seen what it looks like now? It's a mess."
"It's a growing city, Laenor. You have a million and one other things on your plate. We're still yet to hit profitability and keep having to dip into the funds we got from the Triarchy. When that runs out, what are we going to do? Get more gold from Driftmark? I don't think it's prudent for us to take up any expensive projects anymore. Unless you want to take Maester Bernard's suggestion and cut the pay for the laborers," she said.
"No chance of that. We pay them little enough as is."
"We pay them enough for three meals a day with some left over for savings and whatnot."
"Little enough, like I said."
"In Westeros, only the richest smallfolk eat three times a day. And savings? Don't kid yourself."
"Damn it, Laena. I told you already. We're not rebuilding Westeros. We're building something better." I only just managed to avoid screaming the words as I got to my feet. I was tired of having this argument over and over again. Bernard thought he knew best and kept recruiting people to convince me to do things his way.
"I know," she said, and then she stepped around the table to place my face between her hands.
"I want to see what you build, Laenor. I don't want this to fail for any reason. And that means we need to temper your ambitions. Food prices are rising, and I know you want to get a handle on that. The shipyard just started working. Concrete is good but in your words, we need to scale production. You wanted to get our glass production to the point where we can manage smaller and smaller bits of glass without losing quality control. So many things you want to do, Laenor. And there is only one of you," she said, and I sighed, feeling the rage leave me, my fire dying down to an ember. She was right.
"You're right," I whispered back.
"I know I am. Now can you stomach an ugly city while we work so that the people of the city keep having food to buy?" she asked.
"Yes. Yes I can," I said.
"Good. Because I didn't come here for no reason, there's news from King's Landing," she said.
"From Mother?"
"Half of it, yes. The other half is a personal invitation from the King himself."
"So what is it? Lay it all on me," I said, missing the warmth of her body as she took a step back and reached into the satchel she carried on her shoulder. I'd made small messenger bags— more like had them made by a leather worker from Tyrosh so we could carry around some things while we flew our dragons. Laena had taken to wearing hers basically all the time.
I accepted the scroll she took out of it, unrolling it.
"The Queen gave birth to a son. A healthy boy they have named Aemond."
"Two princes now," I said as I read the very standard royal childbirth notice. It was much the same as the one we had received when Aegon had been born. And just like that one, there was a note that Rhaenyra remained the heir and that Aemond himself was now third in line for the throne. How interesting. Otto must have hated that one.
"And an invitation to attend a tourney celebrating his birth," she said.
"Seven months after his nameday seems oddly long," I commented.
"The paranoid part of my mind says it's so you can make it in time. Another part says it's because seven is an auspicious number, and it gives both mother and child time to recover so they can be presented to the realm at the best."
"I don't think the King cares enough about me to make it so he schedules his tourney around my attendance."
"That's because you haven't read Mother's message yet," she said. I noticed she had handed me one scroll and left the other in her grasp. I stretched out my hand to receive it. She shook her head.
"I'll just tell you instead. She says Hightower is on his last legs. The King is going to rescind the shipbuilding tax after the tourney to celebrate the new one's birth. She said you have to make sure you attend."
"What's she need me there for?"
"What do you think?" Laena asked, looking away.
"She wants to negotiate my marriage." The answer came relatively easily. From what I knew, my canon self's marriage to Rhaenyra was still years in the future from being agreed.
"She does. She doesn't say as much, but she does."
"A betrothal," I said, testing how the word tasted in my mouth.
"Do you want to marry her?" Laena asked. I noticed how she failed to meet my eyes. Staring at the wall instead. That reminded me— I would have to look into getting some windows installed in this damn place. We had the glass, after all. And even if it led to worse defensibility, who would dare attack a castle with dragons roosting within?
"No. Of course not," I said, trying to reassure her.
"You're lying. I know you. You're just like father. What could be more ambitious than being King of the Seven Kingdoms?"
"King-consort," I corrected.
She scoffed. "We both know what would happen," she said.
"Fair enough," I said, not bothering to argue. King-consort title or not, there was just no world where I wouldn't end up being the one in charge. Whether I had to work against Rhaenyra to get it or not, I just had too much ambition in me to be satisfied as a showpiece adorning Rhaenyra's hand. And then there was the truth of how Westeros worked. The Lords would turn to me to lead them regardless of what oaths they swore to Viserys or even to Rhaenyra herself.
Because she could be the greatest thing since sliced bread, but the curse of being born without a cock between her legs would follow her forever. I didnD't agree with it personally, but I had no doubts that I would take advantage of it if the opportunity came.
"And still I don't want it. I don't care about the Seven Kingdoms, Laena."
"You mean the same Seven Kingdoms that you so passionately debated your claim to at the Great Council?" she asked.
"Yes. Precisely those Seven Kingdoms. I was much younger then. I didn't have the Stepstones. I didn't have you," I said. She turned to me now, searching my eyes for something. She seemed to find it as she was in my hands in a matter of seconds. I held on to her as she pressed her face against my shoulder.
"I don't want you to marry her," she said, finally saying the words.
"I don't want to marry her either. But we don't have to worry about that," I said.
"What do you mean?"
"While I might be a Knight, I still haven't hit my majority yet. That's still months away. The same is true for Rhaenyra, and she has years until then. They wouldn't try to marry us until she turned six and ten at least. The best they'd do is negotiate a betrothal."
"So? It's just as good as being married to her. It's not like you can break a betrothal with the royal family," she said.
"I have a good feeling Rhaenyra will give me cause all on her own."
"How do you know that?"
"A feeling."
"So you don't know for sure," she said.
"What do you want me to do Laena? Elope? Abandon everything so I can be with you?" I asked.
"Yes. Just that. Why can't you do that? Why don't you love me Laenor?"
"I love you. I love you so much—" I began, but she cut me off as soon as I started.
"But not enough. Not enough for us to get on our dragons and leave."
"And go where? As the last scions of Valyria found, the only place safe for dragons is where we build for ourselves. That's what I want with the Stepstones."
"Then do it here. Marry me here." I felt my breath hitch as she made the request.
"I can't. Not yet," I said. There were so many things I had to do first to make it so our position was unassailable.
"You say not yet, but all I hear is not ever," she said, extracting herself from my grasp. Before I could find the words to say, she was gone.
A/N: Laenor in this case is being logical. The Stepstones relies on Westeros for everything from food to even the ships they get from Driftmark. Rhaenys won't support the wedding either. The wise thing to do from his perspective is to let the betrothal move forward then either find a way to get Rhaenyra to break it or just break it himself when he is in a stronger position to bear the consequences. Laena, of course, only hears excuses where she has seen Laenor go after the things he wants with no hesitation for so long. Next six chapters up on patreon(https://www.patreon.com/c/Oghenevwogaga) (same username as here and link in bio), support me there and read them early.