Pre-Chapter A/N:Another chapter on time? Guess my lock-in is going pretty well. 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. Since I just started a new story, there's a cheeky discount on said patreon(https://www.patreon.com/c/Oghenevwogaga) page for anyone interested.
112 AC — LAENOR VELARYON
(A year and a half from the last chapter)
I looked out from the walls of Bloodstone over the port city that had taken shape in the past year. We had finally gotten around to demolishing the wooden structures I had so disdained the last time I had ridden through the city. Now everyone lived in proper homes built from stone and concrete. The lime wash gave the houses a nice pale color that was beautiful to look at when walking through. It was not a colorful city for the most part, but it was beautiful. The roads were wide and paved.
Between each road and the houses were lattice-covered gutters that carried the water from the rains back to the sea. It meant the roads were never waterlogged, and since they were well-paved, horses and carriages had an easier time navigating the streets of Bloodport than anywhere else. No one else called it Bloodport yet, with "Bloodstone City" taking off as the more popular name, but I would get my win with time.
Beyond the roads and the houses, there were other developments. The shipyards took the edge of the city next to the port, and there, we built the next generation of Velaryon flag bearers. We already had the best ships in the sea by a small margin; this new generation would turn that into a night-and-day comparison. The goal was to beat every other naval power on both quality and quantity.
Then there was the glass factory. It had been moved from the outskirts of the city because both the noise and heat caused disturbances for the citizens. We had placed the factory about two miles outside the city's walls. The workers went there day and night in shifts, with carriages set aside for that purpose. I looked over at it now. It was a better location than the previous outfit for a few reasons: the most important one was security. Our glass-making process had become even more valuable with time once it became clear just how much demand there was. House Lannister, Braavos, and the Magisters in all the Free Cities were customers en masse.
And then there were our cheaper offerings, like the mass-produced hand mirrors which made a killing from those less wealthy but still needing to show off to their neighbors that they were better than them. I was right in the end. The gift to Rhaenyra was the perfect advertisement of just what we could make with time. The Sealord had even sent a messenger asking for something equally beautiful for his daughter's nameday. I'd fulfilled that one gratefully, both for the gold he forked over without hesitation and for the fact that all the Braavosi merchants would be breaking down my door for something similar for their wives and daughters.
"Why are you out here brooding now?" I heard the voice to my side and turned to look at her. Laena grew more beautiful with each day that passed. She glowed like the sun itself, so fair was her complexion, and then there was that smile. It brought a lightness to my soul.
"Just looking at the progress of the Sept," I said.
"It's something, isn't it? I can't believe you're actually doing it," she said.
"I promised you that we would get married, did I not? Now I promise that we will do it in a Sept that will put all the others to shame." I wrapped my hands around her once she was close enough and tilted our bodies so we were both looking at the Sept as it progressed. Concrete meant we built faster than any other house in the Seven Kingdoms, but still, the Sept was going to take at least another half of a year to complete.
Purely because the chosen design I had gone with was so ambitious. Stop me if you've heard this before: a domed ceiling topped with glass and gold, surrounded by seven towers that reached up to the sky. The inside would have statues for each of the Seven, gilded in gold, each reaching as high as five meters. The floor would be marble that would shine when relentlessly polished. The inside would be large enough to seat two thousand comfortably. And if the idea you got from my description was the Sept of Baelor writ small, then you were right.
Well, "small" was not the right word. The Sept would still be massive by most standards. It just wouldn't bend your mind with scale in quite the same way that Baelor's Folly eventually would. That was by design, though. The Sept was going to be the third largest building in the city once the city itself was complete. Bigger than it would be my university, aimed to compete with the Maesters' Citadel and also act as a place of learning for those from the Free Cities. The plan was simple: brain drain. I would advertise all the best learning in my university and the ambitious and resourceful would come here to learn, and then they'd fall in love with the city and stay.
Those who didn't stay would still be returning to their cities with grand views of Bloodstone and the Stepstones at large. These would be sons of wealthy magisters, merchants, and princes. Soft power in a way this world hadn't ever seen was the goal. And bigger even than the university would be my pride: the bank. The Velaryon Bank would loan out gold to captains of ships who wanted to go on expeditions, to university students with bold ideas, to merchants, and to wannabe warlords—and then when the time came to collect, the Velaryon fleet and army would be there to convince even the most stubborn of the value of paying their debts. Bloodstone would be the greatest city in the world, but it would all start with the Sept. The Sept was going to be proof of concept for several of the building techniques and methodologies I wanted to test out.
"I would marry you even in a barn and be happy about it," Laena said, pushing back against me and nuzzling her body further into mine.
"Thankfully, I can give you a better life than that," I said with a smirk as I placed a kiss against her neck. We had become less and less careful around displays of affection like this the closer we got to our eventual wedding. I hadn't secured the High Septon's blessing yet, but House Velaryon made a healthy donation to the Sept in Oldtown every two months. The High Septon wrote personally to thank me for each one and to subtly ask what I wanted.
I framed each one as a gift the gods placed in my heart to give the Sept, and he seemed to be eating it up. It was just preliminary work. The generosity was not going to be enough to convince him to bless an incestuous wedding and expand the Doctrine of Exceptionalism. It was unlikely that he would want his name attached to something like that, so I was going to make it worth his while. It was going to be an offer he couldn't refuse. And if he did refuse it, I was also using the time to carefully prepare the stick that would go along with the carrot.
In a few weeks, a woman heavy with child would make port here. The baby in her bonnet, every instrument I had in Oldtown assured me, was his. Tangible evidence that he had broken his vows. Useful. More evidence would come with time: smaller corruptions, funds diverted to pay for luxuries, little things like that. The stick was not so large that it would make the decision for him, but it was hopefully large enough that it could tip the scales just enough to ensure things fell in my favor in the end.
"Yes, you can. A happy life. One day, we'll raise children in this castle and take them out to this city. The people of the Stepstones will know them as little princelings. They will ride dragons. I can't wait to meet them, to hold them—children of our own. With my smile and your curious little eyes," she said wistfully.
"They sound beautiful," I said, agreeing but saying nothing about the doubts I felt internally.
"What do you really think?" she asked, twisting to turn around and look at me.
"What do you mean?"
"I know you better than anyone. You've never spoken about children before, and anytime I mention them, you just agree with me as if you want to move on to the next topic. Talk to me, brother," she said, pressing her head against mine.
"There's nothing. You know Mother could only have the two of us before it was not safe for her to have any more. I almost killed her in my coming. I just don't want us to have to go through the same," I said. She scoffed.
"I am Laena Velaryon, daughter of Corlys Velaryon. I will give you many sons and you will love them all," she said. I couldn't help but chuckle at that.
"I much prefer daughters, to be honest," I said.
"Daughters will not carry our name if they marry outside the line. They will not continue the House," she said with a chuckle.
"And yet, I have a soft spot for them. I imagine a little girl with your smile and your perfect eyes when I think of children."
"One little girl? Surely you have more ambition than that. You are Laenor Velaryon, the man with no idea how to quit when he's ahead. The man who eats of the world and never stops."
"Maybe I'm growing old."
"Ahhh yes, the ripe old age of eight-and-ten. Few live to make it to be this old, you know? Your bones must creak with every motion. Does your bad knee worry you with every approaching storm?" she teased.
"Fine, I just don't want to talk about it."
"Alright then. But we will. Because I will carry your children—many of them," she said, reaching up and placing a kiss on my cheek. "I did come here seeking you for a purpose."
"What's happened?" I asked.
"They've finished the last of the lighthouses. You wanted every island of the Stepstones to be lit up at night, and you will get that wish. The builders came to report that and ask for a next project."
"Oh, they did, did they?"
"They know you too well," she said.
"Good that they do. Because what do you see when you look at Bloodport?" I asked.
"Bloodstone Port? Nothing much," she said.
"I see inefficiency. It could be bigger. It should be bigger. A bigger port will encourage more merchant ships to make port. That's what I'll set the builders on next. And then when they do that, they will need to build new taverns, new inns, and new merchant stalls to host these new stoppers."
"Exactly. We'll make an expansionist out of you sooner or later," I said, and placed a kiss on her cheek.
"Before you go, I want to visit Mother in a few days," she said.
"You don't need to ask my permission. You are free to come and go as you please, sister."
"I'm telling you because I want you to come along."
"But—"
"You haven't seen her in half a year," she said, snatching all the wind from my sails.
"Alright then. I'll speak to Bernard to sort out a few things and to the rest of them to keep things plodding along in my absence. Five days. Is that fine?" I asked. She nodded, and I kissed her on the lips before turning to leave.
TWO WEEKS LATER
Igneel and I twisted through the air, dropping low toward the sea, allowing our tail to drag along the water for a while before we shot into the air again. I could see it in the distance now—the Hightower. It deserved the name for sure; it was a wonder of the world on its own. Things like it, Casterly Rock, and the Wall were proof that this world had magic beyond the dragon I rode.
Because there was no way in hell men had built that thing without some eldritch force guiding or helping them. It was difficult to describe just how tall the Hightower was. Skyscrapers, which had been common in my world, had been special, but it was understood that they were behemoths of steel and glass with massive weights in their middle to prevent them from swaying too much with the wind. It was something else to see something almost that tall, but instead of steel and glass, it was made with pure stone.
I just hoped no one who lived on the upper floors was too scared of heights. Igneel and I banked at the last second to miss the Hightower by the skin of our teeth, and then we danced through the air, circling the city thrice before I picked out the Starry Sept. It was domed, just as the Sept of Baelor would be, and just as my own Sept would be. I wondered what I would name my Sept for a second. The Sept of Laenor was probably a bit too on the nose. The Velaryon Sept was also unlikely to receive a good reaction. Perhaps I would name it the Sept of Hugor out of some feigned piety.
Igneel and I landed right outside the Sept. Its black marble walls and arched windows gazed down dispassionately at us.
"Hail, good Lord!" a man from within called out. I noted that a crowd would soon begin forming as people came to see Igneel. A dragon could not have been a usual sight for these people.
"I am Laenor Velaryon, Lord of Driftmark, and I wish to see the High Septon," I called.
"Please come in, my Lord. His Holiness would happily see a fellow servant of the gods," he said. I nodded and dismounted from the saddle. I wore no armor, but I still had Riptide strapped to my waist. Anyone who thought me defenseless would learn a quick lesson if they thought to take advantage of it.
"Don't eat or roast anyone until I get back, my friend," I whispered to Igneel as I rubbed his neck. I started to walk toward the Sept's closed doors when I looked back at the building crowds and then at Igneel.
"Feel free to roar if anyone annoys you. Make them shit their breeches if you feel like it," I said. He humphed, but I could feel his amusement from here.
The inside of the Starry Sept was just as magnificent as one would expect for the premier Sept of the Seven Kingdoms. Gold and silver were the predominant materials used in the ornaments. The floor was a clear marble that made my footsteps echo. It was lit by what looked to be a thousand candles. There was scarcely any space between one and the next.
There probably had to be an army of people dedicated to monitoring them. I noted that not a single one was below the halfway point. They probably ran through enough candles to give a great Lord's castellan a heart attack. They were even beeswax candles, which meant they were all the more expensive. I chuckled to myself. I was on my way to have one of the most important conversations of my life, and here I was thinking about the economic significance of the candles being used by a Sept.
It probably said a lot about how my mind worked—and I doubted those things were particularly good. I followed the man who had beckoned me within. We climbed stairs as we headed straight up. Once we left the main hall, the number of candles dropped drastically. Well, that was reasonable. The rest of the Sept seemed to be lit with torches, which were by far the more economically reasonable option.
We climbed the stairs, not stopping until we had reached what was the top floor by my reckoning. There was a door at the end of the stairway, not even a hallway. The entire top floor was just one room. The door opened a few seconds after my guide knocked, and there he was. At the far end of the extremely large chamber sat the High Septon. He was an old man; I could see as much even from this far away. His frame seemed to sag with the weight of the regalia he wore. The heavy robes and chains of gold, which must have been seen as a luxury to others, must have felt more like a burden than anything else to him at that age.
"Laenor Velaryon," he said in greeting. His voice showed none of the decades that had worn his body down. It was still loud and strong.
"High Septon Aldric. Many greetings, Your Holiness," I said with a shallow bow. I was the supplicant here.
"When I heard the dragon, I felt many a year younger. I remember the last time I heard a dragon from this room. It was another dragon lord. Daemon Targaryen, whose neck was ever so stiff, whom men called the Rogue Prince. You already show yourself his better. You understand that no matter how high a dragon may fly, the gods soar higher still," he said.
I wondered what Daemon had come here seeking. The subtle insult went ignored as I walked forward. Honey, not vinegar, I reminded myself.
A/N: Remember Rhaenys said no High Septon consent, no wedding. Laenor believes he needs this and so is going to be all the more patient for it. Of course, he is scarcely the type to forget insults. Next five 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. Started a new story, so there's a discount for the rest of the month on patreon(https://www.patreon.com/c/Oghenevwogaga): feel free to check that out as well.