Pre-Chapter A/N: More chapters on my patreon(https://www.patreon.com/c/Oghenevwogaga)— same username as here and link in bio. Experimenting with two chapters a week, we'll see how long I can keep this up for.
Laena had been serious about not seeing Father in this state. Even now, she was out flying with Vhagar while I sat with Mother and the maester, watching him sleep soundly.
"So there's nothing you can do? Nothing at all?" This was not the first time Mother was asking this question.
"Maybe if I had gotten to him a few seconds after he was wounded, then I would have had a chance. Not a guarantee, mind you; it would have been a slim chance regardless. Wounds like this, well, we tend to succeed three out of ten times. With how long it has been, and while Lord Laenor has provided excellent care, and extended his life far beyond what most apprentices at the Citadel would manage, there is nothing that can be done. We can only make our peace with it." He replied. It was another version of the same answer he'd given five times already. I envied his bedside manner. He was able to speak in a way that delivered the news and brought her some small comfort, whereas there was nothing I could do to even come close to that.
"Can we speak to him? Say our goodbyes?" I asked. I'd avoided waking him throughout the time I cared for him. Partly to avoid making things worse, and partly because I had not been ready to face the inevitable. But I could tell time was running out. The wound had gone completely black and no amount of dressing or redressing it was making things better or even slowing the rot at this point.
"It should be safe to wake him up in an hour or two, but I do not anticipate that he will last long. It is best that you gather the whole family so your father can make his last wishes known," the maester replied.
Mother and Laena were fighting. I'd seen it coming, but not for the first time this week, I felt lost as to what to do about the situation. I'd taken charge of the search for Seaspeaker, and to my annoyance, we were yet to find the man himself. Even worse, we were yet to get a consistent description of what the man even looked like. Some of his men said he had olive skin like the Dornish and a lithe frame; others claimed that he was a dark-skinned Qohorik prizefighter turned pirate that was the size of three men and could barrel through a wall when he ran at full speed. Both of these descriptions have come under torture and even more torture was yielding nothing but more confusion.
I'd charged the gaoler with taking one of them at random each day that passed with Seaspeaker out of our custody and executing them in front of the others. Even that hadn't gotten anything concrete, but it had only been two days since I started that policy, so it was a tad too early to decry the whole thing a failure. What was definitely a failure was trying to scout the island from above and finding him. The forest was too thick and the rest of the place was dotted with shallower forests that were equally impossible to scout from above. I was close to saying 'fuck it' and burning the forests regardless. The only issue with that was that there would be no head to present to Rhaenys in the end, and that was the whole point of this damn thing.
"Are you ready?" The maester asked, drawing me from my thoughts. I nodded. By my side, Rhaenys did the same. Laena was outside on another flight. Vhagar's endurance had to be something otherworldly considering how hard Laena had been riding her lately. The Bronze Bitch seemed to be trying to offer my sister some comfort at least so I couldn't hate the dragon for it.
"Yes," I said, placing my hand on Rhaenys' shoulder to keep her stable. She hadn't cried. None of us had. Well, I could only speak for Rhaenys, Laena, and I. The extended Velaryon family had found out we were going to wake him and so had shown up in their numbers. Vaemond, brother of Corlys, and his son Vaemond— yes, the psycho named his son directly after himself like the family tree wasn't confusing enough, and his nephews Malentine and Rhogar (well they were my cousins as well but Laena had been the only one able to keep up with me when we were younger so I didn't know much about them and didn't even care to know more).
"I'll be waking him now," he said, and he took some salts out of his pocket. He opened them up and waved them under Father's nose. The man inhaled deeply, eyes opening and watering almost instantly.
"Corlys," Rhaenys gasped, stepping closer.
"Rhaenys? What are you…" He stopped as he looked around himself, staring at all of us for a few seconds before he looked down at his own body. He gasped as he tried to wiggle in place.
"Oh," he said, and I could see the realization set in. Corlys was a smart man, and it did not take a genius to figure out just what was going on.
"How long do I have?" he asked, turning to the maester. The question did what nothing else had, it managed to set off Mother. With a gasp, she fell into the seat next to his bed and grabbed his hand. She was shedding silent tears. It might have been the question; it also might have been just how weak his voice sounded. Corlys Velaryon had spent most of his life as a powerful man, a leader of men, and his voice showed it. At least his voice showed it before today. Now, there was a weakness in it; he could barely speak above a whisper. He had to murmur the question he asked twice before the maester could make out the words enough to understand.
"A few hours, my lord. Maybe a day, but you would have grown too weak to speak by then," he said, clinical as ever.
"So these are to be my last moments then," he said, and he tried squeezing Mother's hand, but I could see the way his face contorted in pain even as his hand managed to tighten only a smidge before he gave up the effort.
"Don't cry, my love. You know I hate to see you cry," he said, and if he expected that to help at all then he was mistaken as the tears got even worse as she sat by his side. I felt them prick at the sides of my eyes at that.
"Leave us for now," he ordered, and we listened. I was the first out the door. Where the hell was Laena? It was just beginning to truly sink in. Corlys Velaryon was dying. And even worse, it was my fault. If I had never come into this world, he would have lived for decades more. He would have had so much more time to be happy. He would have seen both his children married; he would have witnessed the birth of his granddaughters who he would dote on. All that would never happen. All because I thought I was smarter than I really was.
I caught a glint from the corner of my eye and just managed to lean backwards in time for an arrow to fly through the space I'd just been about to occupy. My eyes turned to the would-be assailant and found him nocking another arrow from a rooftop. He fired in no time, and I barely managed to hurl my body behind a wagon to avoid the hit.
There was a roar, a crash, multiple screams in a matter of seconds and I turned to see the bronze form of Vhagar flying off with my assailant clutched in her talons. What the actual fuck?
— — —
"You're welcome," Laena said about ten minutes later, walking into town with the man in front of her who looked like he had seen hell itself.
"I didn't say thank you," I pointed out. We had to fix that roof, and it wasn't like we had an abundance of laborers to work with. Still I signaled for the man to be taken into custody and he was.
"Then I guess we should revisit your education on manners."
"What would you know about manners?" I snorted. This girl who terrified and terrorized the septa sent to teach her when we were younger presumed she could lecture me. Me!
"More than the man hesitating to thank the woman who saved his life, for sure," I scoffed in reply. Did she really think that was what happened?
"I was out of his line of fire. All I had to do was stealthily raise the alarm and we would have arrested him in no time." It was her turn to scoff. She turned away and began to leave.
"Okay okay, I won't thank you for this, but there is something else that you could do for me that I will thank you for," I called after her. She stopped in her tracks, spinning about to pin me with a look.
"What does little Laeny want?" she asked almost instantly, clearly intrigued.
"I want you to come see Father with me. He's awake now, he's speaking, but he won't have long." I saw the way her expression closed off the second I brought it up. Both she and Rhaenys had inherited that Baratheon stubbornness that meant they did not like to capitulate, surrender, or be proven wrong under any circumstances.
"Laena," I cut into her rant.
"Mother doesn't even know that I am speaking with you now. She's with Father, she's devastated, and I can't comfort her. I know you can. I'm not asking this because I feel I know better than you do about how you feel and so am dictating how you spend your last moments with your Father. I'm asking this because I am a son who sees his mother in pain and is trying to do something about it." She shifted from one foot to the other, looking like she wanted to agree but there was still something holding her back.
"Please sister," I tried one last time, and that did the trick. She let out a breath and then took a step closer to me instead of away from me.
"You owe me one, Laeny," she said, walking over and punching me in the shoulder.
"I'll owe you a million if that's what it takes sister," I said, taking her hand in mine. Partly for the comfort it offered, but mostly to make sure she could not change her mind.
— — —
"He wants you all to come in now," Mother said, poking her head outside the room. I'd taken hold of Laena's hand and essentially refused to let go of it since I managed to convince her to come here, to join us in this. We went into the room, and I felt her squeeze my hand like a vice caught in her grip as she caught sight of him for the first time.
"My daughter, my star of the sea," he called to her, voice still shaky but there was a strength to it now. Not the kind of strength that indicated survival, unfortunately, but the strength of the dying. The strength of one who saw his fate coming and did nothing to oppose its slow arrival— in this case, the arrival was far from slow but the point remained equally potent.
"Father," she released my hand, practically hurling herself across the last few steps to his side. Rhaenys did not complain at having her seat stolen. Instead, she went behind Laena placing her hands on her shoulders. They looked like a family in that moment. A family without me. Even before the Stormlands, I hadn't been good at the emotional stuff. Years with Baratheon men had done nothing but worsen any deficiencies I had when it came to emotional stuff.
"I will miss you most of all," he said, giving her a wink. She leaned down and placed a kiss on his cheek.
"But I must get to business first. Maester Gunthor, I hope you are taking notes."
"Yes, my lord."
"These are the last words of Corlys Velaryon the First, Seasnake, Lord of the Tides, Master of Driftmark, and Lord Warden of the Stepstones," he began, and I lifted my eyebrow at that last one. Claiming a domain we had yet to conquer was one thing. Aegon did it with Dorne after all, but claiming a domain that we had officially promised to someone else was another. If only I could pick his brain on that particular choice, but there were bigger worries at this point.
"To my wife Rhaenys, I leave a lifetime interest of one hundred thousand dragons to be taken from High Tide's treasury and held in her own name and to her successors in perpetuity. Be free, my dragon, and fly true," he said, and it was clear that this had not been discussed between them already from the shock on her face. It was not commonplace for lords to leave their widows with gold separate from the House treasury. The general expectation was that the widow's dowry and the largesse of the successor lord would handle her welfare. Considering I didn't think Corlys expected me to starve my own mother, the money was probably for her own purposes.
"To my star of the sea Laena, I leave two hundred thousand dragons for her dowry as well as three ships of her choosing from the Velaryon shipyard. I am so proud of you my daughter, my only regret is not living long enough to see what you make of the world." If Rhaenys' bequest had been shocking, then this one had stirred the bees. To my sides, I could hear the various Velaryons begin to whisper to themselves in shock. Two hundred thousand dragons was a large dowry. Far more than even a princess would command. Corlys had just made Laena the most eligible maiden in the realm. For some reason, I had a feeling that was the plan.
It made sense to some extent. Making her even more attractive meant she would have no shortage of suitors and it was up to us to pick the best one rather than Corlys seeking a marriage since he would not be around for that anymore. Should I have felt bad that he didn't necessarily trust me to find Laena a good husband? Nope, there was no chance I'd have trusted myself with that either. Wasn't even certain I was comfortable with her getting married at all? Who is to say that she wouldn't die in childbirth either way, regardless of who the father was? With that kind of risk, did I even want her getting married to anyone?
"To my younger brother, Vaemond, I first of all leave my thanks for his years of loyal service. To find a true friend is a rare thing. To find a competent servant is another. To find both in a brother is a treasure beyond words. I leave you your ship, the Seahorse's Wrath, as well as five others from the shipyard. I also leave ten thousand dragons for your upkeep, and two thousand to each of your children. I leave the same for all of Aurion's children as well." The fact that he hadn't bothered calling them by name was something I found slightly funny. I struggled to remember all their names to be honest. I knew Vaemond because he was named after his father, and Rhogar because his sounded similar to Rhaegar but for the rest, I'd honestly just forgotten. Corlys was probably more or less the same.
"And finally to my son and heir, Laenor. You have made me proud beyond my wildest dreams. In you I have found a worthy heir and I die a happy man knowing that House Velaryon will continue to thrive and advance to greater and greater heights. I leave you your inheritance in full, apart from what I have explicitly spelled out earlier…." He stopped to cough before continuing immediately, waving away Laena's attempt to ply him with water.
"Until you come into your majority, the regency will be handled by your mother and my wife, Rhaenys—"
"Brother," Vaemond interrupted, stepping forwards. He was the first to dare interrupt Corlys as he laid out his last wishes.
"I must oppose this. House Velaryon should be ruled by a Velaryon. One who has the sea in their blood. One that the sailors and captains will listen to when the time comes. Do not forget that we are at war and war is no place for women. The men must see strong leadership in front of them."
"And you would want what instead? For me to pick you?" Corlys began laughing and that laugh quickly turned to a series of coughs as he planted his hand against his bound wound.
"Don't agitate it, Corlys," Mother scolded.
"I'm dying either way, my love," he said, giving her a smile that she did not share.
"Back to you Vaemond, you are my brother, but you are no leader. My choice is made, and my choice is final," he said, coughing some more. Now Laena did not allow him to refuse her offered water.
"Leave me with my children and wife now," he ordered, after a long drink.
The room emptied, leaving the four of us alone. Even the maester had left.
"Come Laenor," I took a few steps closer to him and knelt by his side. His hand came to me.
"I regret sending you away. I anticipated having years upon years to teach and prepare you. We will have none of that. Just as I took the throne of Driftmark in my youth, you will do the same. Except that I will be leaving you a house at the peak of its strength. Make us stronger, Laenor. Rule the waves."
That was the last we spoke about matters of inheritance or succession. We spent the rest of the time trading stories. I told them what I could about my time in the Stormlands and they traded with stories from Driftmark and what was happening. We spoke long into the night and slowly but surely, Corlys spoke less and less. Each word took more out of him, and before the hour of the wolf in the One Hundred and Eight Year after Aegon's Conquest, Corlys Velaryon, the First, the Seasnake, Master of Driftmark and Lord of the Tides breathed his last.
A/N: And the chapter ends thus. F in the chat for Corlys? Next five up on patreon(https://www.patreon.com/c/Oghenevwogaga)(same username as here and link in bio), support me there and read them early.