“There’s no limit to the amount that can be invested in human capital.
It’s a virtue to learn whenever the opportunity presents itself.
Ultimately, there’s no such thing as a professional who stops learning.” -From the Saga of Tanya the Evil Vol.
7
Laenor landed Seasmoke on Driftmark.
He was now making the trip between the island and King’s Landing regularly.
Despite the rumors dying down, if for no other reason that they speakers wanted to keep their tongues, Rhaenyra insisted on him attending near every court function.
The court was now seemingly divided near perfectly in two, half wore green to every event and the other half wore black, stating plainly their intended alignment.
Only Viserys, Elaena, and a few others seemed to dress in any other colors these days.
His sister Laena came to greet him as he dismounted from Seasmoke.
“Ah Laenor, how are things in King’s Landing?”
“Tense as ever, sister.
I heard father finalized the betrothal, how are you feeling about it?”
“Mixed, the boy is still too young for us to wed, but rumor has it he’s spoiled and overly pampered.
Hopefully he will grow out of it, but for now, I wait.”
“You do not sound discontent.”
“I’m not, the son of a Sealord is quite a step down from the King of Westeros, but that was father who desired that, not me.
Here I can fly Vhagar as often as I like.
If I grow bored, I can fly to King’s Landing and watch Rhaenyra and Alicent stare at each other like two angry cats.”
Laenor laughed, as the comment was made with jest in mind instead of mocking, so he took no offense.
Not that his sister could easily offend him; they had always been close.
“I’m off to see Joffrey, but we can go flying together later, if you wish.
I’m not expected back for two days.”
Laena agreed and Laenor went to find Joffrey.
His lover greeted him affectionally.
“I’ve missed you.”
“And I you,” Laenor responded.
Joffrey let out a heavy sigh.
“You shouldn’t, I’m a useless cripple now.
I’m not sure why you insist on staying with me.
My right hand has almost no strength and my right leg trembles at random.
I’m no longer fit to be a knight, and the Maester says that he doubts it will improve.”
Laenor scowled.
“Don’t speak like that.
It wasn’t so long ago, you had difficulty with your words sounding correct, and now no one can tell there was any problem.
Even if you never recover, so what?
We were meant to be together, your ability to fight in a tourney or at war is not why I desired you.”
“So, what am I to do?
Eat and drink and sit around doing nothing?”
“Master-at-arms.
You can train the next generation of swordsmen.”
“When I can’t even hold a sword properly?
A poor jest.”
“I’m serious.
You always had a keen eye for sizing up an opponent’s fighting style.
You can instruct the young ones, oversee their training, and teach them of knightly duty and honor.
You’ll train Jace when he’s older and you can advise me, and Rhaenyra, on matters of war.”
Joffrey considered and slowly nodded.
“I suppose I could do that.” He looked at Laenor, “Is this pity or do you truly wish for me to stay because you want us to remain together?
If it is the former; I will leave, there will be no sourness in our parting.
I will understand.”
“I will not leave you!
It is not pity, but love.
Cease asking, before I begin to doubt your own feelings for me.”
Joffrey gave him a passionate look, and soon showed Laenor the depths of his feelings.
The two days passed quickly.
Laenor dined with his parents, flew with his sister, and loved Joffrey.
His return trips to King’s Landing were always bittersweet.
He enjoyed the company of Rhaenyra and Ser Harwin.
He enjoyed racing Seasmoke against Syrax and Viktoriya.
He enjoyed the finest wines and delicate morsels, but he also hated so much about being there.
Constantly being on guard, having to watch every word he spoke, and of course seeing the man who deliberately maimed Joffrey on a near daily basis frustrated him to no end.
Upon landing he sought out Rhaenyra.
She was feeding Jace and welcomed him home; the boy was growing larger at a rapid pace.
No doubt by adulthood he would be taller than his half-brothers.
After catching up Rhaenyra broached the subject that both pleased and alarmed him.
“We’ve tried again, and you’ve done your best, but I still need to bear more children.
I also miss Harwin pleasing me in that manner; the substitutes are enjoyable, but the time has come for us to put this failed attempt behind us.”
Laenor nodded.
A large part of him preferred it this way.
Oddly enough, it was Elaena’s angry expression that came to mind.
She would be rather wroth with him if Rhaenyra’s second child looked like Harwin’s again.
That was a minor issue, the bigger one is the danger to Rhaenyra, her child, and future children, as well as himself.
He recalled Ser Harwin’s words; they did have the power.
With the King, the Hand, and the wealthiest noble, Laenor’s father, all supporting them, what hope did their enemies have to delegitimize Jace and any of Rhaenyra’s future children?
“That works for me Rhaenyra.
I know you need me here often, but King’s Landing has not suited my taste lately.
You are the Lady of Dragonstone, perhaps we could spend more time there?
I’d like to make Joffrey the new Master-at-arms and we could still be seen in public and I can be close to Joffrey more often.”
Rhaenyra pursed her lips, considering.
“We can do so sparingly.
I dislike leaving Alicent here to cause mischief in my absence.”
Laenor would be content with that, for now.
…
Viserys glanced at Elaena as they walked.
She was growing up fast, even if she stayed diminutive in stature.
He recalled her early distaste for the proposed match with her and Aegon.
Now another match was being considered.
“Elaena, I spoke with your sister yesterday.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, she wanted me to consider matching you with Jacaerys.
And a few months prior Alicent wished me to consider a match with Aegon.”
Elaena did not falter in her stride, though Viserys sensed an increase of tension in the air.
“Father, the thought still sits uneasy with me.
I do not wish to wed close family.
Surely a match can be found elsewhere in the Seven Kingdoms.”
Viserys expected that.
He could not understand why his otherwise perfect daughter was so hung up on not marrying according to the tradition of their family.
“Also, Jacaerys is seven years my junior.
I would ask you to decline my sister’s suggestion.”
It dawned on Viserys that now both daughters had fought tooth and nail against marriages that would be good for them.
Rhaenyra had been furious with him, but in the end, she had married Laenor.
Viserys was well pleased with the result, a wonderful boy, and another child on the way.
The two seemed happy together.
And it had repaired the frayed relations with the Velaryons.
Should he just set the match and end the discourse on it?
In the end Elaena would get over it, just as Rhaenyra got over it.
…
Who knew?
So …
just keep tossing them 😉
…