Pre-Chapter A/N: Here we go with another chapter. Here on time! Next five chapters on my patreon(https://www.patreon.com/c/Oghenevwogaga)— same username as here and link in bio.
XXXXXX- LAENOR VELARYON
'Seven moons down, two moons to go' I thought to myself on waking up this morning. This made it seven moons to the day since Laena told me about the pregnancy and in that time so much had changed. The first cohort of my legions was progressing well. Once they were ready, we would double the size for the next cohort and then move them in to serve as my household guard. That would give me the space to move a good portion of the Westerosi Knights either into the navy, into training to join the next cohort, or just discharge those of them that would not want either.
Vaemond's voyage, from what I could tell, was progressing well. No news was good news in this case, and the last time he had been able to send word back, it had been positive. Considering the ships he had taken, and the size of the force with him, I doubted it would be anything other than a success. The trade war with Braavos had quieted down. No news was also good news in this case. It meant I could focus on making my gold. And even with glass sales trending downwards earlier, we had managed to near reverse the trend with lower prices so far. The final numbers were not in but I had hope that things would look good.
And even if they didn't, House Velaryon was somehow still profitable. Just barely, but we were. Dragon's Roost was coming along nicely. No one liked the name I had chosen for the castle yet, but when they paid to have a castle built, they could name it whatever they wanted. Castle was even a bad name for it. Bloodstone was a castle. It was made to be defensible. To last in a siege, to turn away an invading army, all of that.
Dragon's Roost would not be made to do any of those. It was a palace. A place built for pleasure and serenity, designed from the ground up with all the best modernities I could import into this world with the help of who had once been Braavos' greatest architect, Zalindros.
"Up already?" Laena's words drew me from my thoughts. I turned to look over at her. My beautiful wife. The love of my life.
"I'll head down to the yard soon" I said, with a look out the window. The sun would rise in the next two hours, it looked like.
"Of course. Don't leave the soon to be greatest knight to ever live waiting" she said.
"I have no idea how he prefers you to me when all you do is mock him" I said, leaning in and planting a kiss on her forehead. My hand moved straight to her stomach, drawn there almost like it was magnetised. She was carrying more than one child, we were certain of that now. None of the Maesters or Midwives had ever seen a pregnancy this large. And we were just seven moons in. There was still growing left on the table.
"He has good taste. Who can fault him for that?" she said.
"He has a crush. The product of out of control hormones."
"Hormones? Well, as long as no whores are moaning all is well" she said. I groaned.
"What? That was a good one."
"No. Not even close. And I'm getting out of here before you tell an even worse one" I said, rolling off the bed and landing with my arms outstretched. One, two, I began to count my push ups.
----
"Again" I ordered. Aegon nodded, picking up an arrow from the quiver that was slung around his waist. He nocked it, drew, and loosed all with a motion that was smooth as could be. But still his shot ended up a few inches wide of the bull's eye.
"Again" I said. He was getting better. For sure, he was getting better. When we had started, he missed the target entirely more often than not. But it was annoying seeing him struggle so much with something that he should have found easy. The distance was nothing spectacular. I'd seen children younger than him hit bull's eyes from triple this distance.
If I were anyone else, perhaps I would have called it quits and just accepted that Aegon would never be anything more than a below-average shot and left it at that, but I had high standards. Every failing of his, I saw as a failing of mine. The teacher reflects the student.
"Be sure to adjust for the wind. Perhaps that is why you keep missing" I said.
"There's no wind" he said. And truly there was no wind, so he was right.
"Then tell me why you keep missing a target so close to you that if you stuck out your tongue I reckon you could lick it" I said.
"I'm just bad."
"For now. Keep practicing. You will get better" I said.
"Can we just go back to sparring?"
"We're done with sparring for today, Aegon. No. This is what we spend the rest of our practice on. And if you can't get a better success rate than 50% before we leave, I'll cancel sparring for tomorrow and the day after, and the day after that, as many as I need to until you become a competent archer. Do not test me on this, Aegon" I said.
He sighed, but his next arrow made it much closer to the goal. Good. Motivating him by withholding sparring was not something I particularly enjoyed, but it was clearly working. I did not need to bark at him to continue as he was already pulling the next arrow out of the quiver and nocking it on the bow.
I turned my attention to the Knight who was his ever present shadow. Erryk Cargyll had changed little in the months since his arrival. While it felt like Aegon grew taller with each day that passed, the Knight was a stone, unbent by the passage of time. I chuckled. Passage of time. It had been little under six months. Aegon, and his dragon as well, were just fucking tryhards.
"Would you fancy a spar, good Ser? I will need someone to spar with since Aegon is going to be focused on his archery for the foreseeable future" I said when Aegon's next arrow missed the goal by a few inches. He growled deep in his throat and then began to do his best impression of Stannis Baratheon, grinding his teeth.
"I would much like a spar, my lord. I am afforded few opportunities to keep my skills sharp" he said, clearly getting what I was doing.
"Then I will—" I paused, as the next arrow went dead center into the bull's eye marker. "I guess I might not need you after all. Perhaps there is an archer in there somewhere." The next shot missed the target entirely.
"Perhaps not" Cargyll quipped and I could not help the laughter that spilled from my lips like water spilling forth from a just opened dam.
The next arrow made it perfectly.
"Maybe if we stay here till both our beards turn grey then he might become an almost passable archer. Emphasis on the might there. Let's not put too much hope on his shoulders."
"You don't even have a beard" Aegon commented.
"Can I have less talking and more shooting, please" I shot back almost immediately. The arrow went dead center.
"Perhaps more talking then. Who would have known that running your mouth would give you some amount of skill? Besides, the beard thing is a metaphor. Even if I did grow one, it would be silver already, and it would take forever for you to notice any greying" I said.
"If you could grow one, you mean" he said. The arrow hit dead center again.
"Mocking your knight, Aegon? You know back in the day, dirty little brats like you used to get whipped for that" I said. He just scoffed.
"Your Knight was your cousin. You were getting whips just as much as I am" he said. Another perfect shot.
"It would surprise you. But that is not the point. Hit another five of those in a row, and we can call it a day" I said. The hopeful expression on his face faded to wrathful disappointment as his arrow sailed far off the red mark, hitting the edge of the target itself.
"Well, I guess that's that. Keep on with it then" I said, reaching out and ruffling his hair.
----
"It looks beautiful" I said to the man before he had even reached me. His smile was wide, reaching from ear to ear. He had the silver hair that marked him as a man with Valyrian ancestors, but the rest of his features were Andal through and through.
"Of course it does. I designed it" he said.
"Indeed. When I heard of your work with the Sealord's palace, I knew then that I must have you build me something. This is well done. You truly live up to your name. Maker of wonders" I said.
"Thank you, Lord Velaryon. For the compliment and for the freedom to bring her to life. This masterpiece. She was begging to exist. Begging. Thank you for setting her free to live on this world like you and I" he said, his passion making his strong Lyseni accent difficult to miss. A man with Valyrian and Andal ancestors, who grew up in Lys, but had spent most of his adult life in Braavos building manses and palaces for the rich and powerful. What an interesting life to have lived. And now here he was in the Stepstones, sworn to a Westerosi noble.
"Indeed" I said, not particularly sure how to reply to that. The man was good at what he did so I could ignore the eccentricity for now.
Dragon's Roost straddled the earth between where the beach ended and where the rest of the island began. It was massive, sprawling across multiple castles' worth of space. But it was made worth it. The space was created so there would be no shortage of indoor garden spaces. The courtyard had been carefully measured to be able to comfortably contain Vhagar, Meleys, and Igneel at the same time. With enough space that all three would still fit even if Igneel grew to Vhagar's size, or more likely, my children had dragons of their own. It was mostly horizontal, Dragon's Roost. It was only three stories high, unlike most castles that tended to stretch out towards the sky.
This one was built to ensure no one was ever too far from the outdoors. There was only one set of walls, built more to protect the building from the wind and storms (at least the remnants of storms) that made its way to the island than to protect from an external assault. Every part of the palace was white. A beautiful white that just made you stop and stare. It was the kind of building that you had no choice but to pay attention to.
"The furnishing proceeds at pace. The carpenters are working day and night to ensure that we stay on timeline" he said.
"Good. My wife intends to move in in two sennights. That should be possible, no?" I asked. She wanted to spend the last month or so of her pregnancy here. Taking walks by the sea on the beach and enjoying the cool breeze rather than being cooped up in Bloodstone Castle day in and day out. It was a desire I could get behind.
"For the Lady Laena, I would soar into the heavens and pluck out the stars themselves" he said.
"That's nice of you, but let's stay on the ground and furnish the palace, no?" I didn't think my joke was all that funny, but he laughed like I had taken a feather to his pits.
"Indeed. We shall stay on the ground. I will see to it that Dragon's Roost is ready for her when she needs it" he proclaimed, already turning and heading off. Say what you would about Zalindros, the maker of wonders, but he clearly was not lacking in enthusiasm by any means.
XXXXX- AEGON TARGARYEN
"So how has your day been going, Aegon?" she asked in the bastard Valyrian of Lys.
"Well. Uh, I did not do too well in bow and arrow shooting with Lord Velaryon in the early hours" he said in the same language, struggling to find the right words. He had thought that improving his High Valyrian would make the bastard dialects easier, but it seemed to be having little effect. And how could it when she switched languages every lesson like they were steps in one of those switching dances he had seen performed in court.
"I see. Why is that?"
"I don't know?" he asked more than said. She raised an eyebrow.
"I do mean I don't know. I am not just using it because I cannot find any other words to speak" he said.
"Then tell me why you don't know. You are usually very good at identifying what you are doing wrong" she said.
"Lord Velaryon usually tells me what I'm doing wrong. But with this, I do everything right. I draw the bow right, I... put the arrow right, I fire right, and still I miss" he said.
"Nock."
"Uh?" he asked, and she gave him a sharp look.
"Pardon me, I mean" he said next, flushing at the mistake.
"Nock. The word you were looking for there."
"Oh. I nock the arrow right" he said.
"Correctly."
"I nock the arrow correctly" he corrected himself.
"Well, that's close enough to a correct sentence for us to move forward. Valyria wasn't built in a day, after all."
The rest of the lesson progressed in that vein and when it was over Aegon's head felt like it was about to split in two, but then she offered him a smile and he felt like the sun had shone upon him. He was all smiles as he left. No matter how painful they got, he knew he would always return. It wasn't her fault, after all. She wanted Aegon to get better. He just had to keep practicing.
"Are you well, my Prince?" Ser Cargyll asked as he stepped out of the room his lessons were held in.
"Better than ever, Ser" he said.
"You speak like him now" the Knight said, taking his position at Aegon's back.
"Who?"
"Lord Velaryon."
"Oh?"
"It is no bad thing. He is well spoken. And there are worse traits I have seen squires pick up from their Knights. It is only natural" he said. Aegon nodded, but he was not sure if he believed it. More likely, he was speaking better because of his lessons and because Lord Velaryon spoke well as well, it seemed like they were speaking like each other when they really weren't. How did she put it again? Different roads often lead to the same castle? That was it.
"I see" he said, not wanting the debate.
"Perhaps we shall head to breakfast now. It should be time" he said.
Ser Cargyll said nothing and so he led the way down to the small private hall that Lord Velaryon had his meals in. He had noticed many strange things about Lord Velaryon and his wife while he was here. For one, they never held feasts. They took all their meals in this same private hall. The only company other than themselves were sometimes Maester Bernard or one of the members of the Council, and Aegon and Ser Cargyll. Other than them, they were alone for their meals. It didn't matter if it was the new moon or the start of harvest, or even its end, Castle Bloodstone never celebrated with feasts.
It never celebrated at all. This was a castle where joy was a strange thing. Lord Velaryon called it efficiency. Everyone here knew their duty. And they were all trained to carry it out on a schedule that almost never changed. When Aegon went for breakfast, the food was already spread out, and it was still hot. It had been minutes since it had been placed out because the servants knew when to serve the food just for them to eat. When he showered, the water was hot. The servants had boiled the water in anticipation. The schedule allowed everyone to know where they should be and what they should be doing.
And while it still itched at his skin to do the same thing day after day, it was a consolation that everyone did it. Everyone followed a fixed schedule. Lady Velaryon visited the schools and orphanages at the same time for three days in the sennight, and Lord Velaryon would not be here for breakfast because this was the day he went down to the island of Atlantis to look at the new castle he was building. Routine was the nature of House Velaryon.
And that made it even more shocking when Lady Velaryon walked in for breakfast with someone unexpected by her side. She was well dressed, but not richly so. She did not wear one of those uniforms that Lord Velaryon made all his servants wear, but that could mean everything and nothing at the same time. The Lady Velaryon's attendants did not abide by that dress code. She'd told Aegon in confidence that she found the insistence on grey to be boring. He could agree for sure.
"Oh Aegon, there you are" she said.
He rose.
"My lady."
"I told you you can call me Laena in private. Now where are my manners. This is Myriah, she was born in Lys, and helps me look after the little ones till they are born." He nodded.
"Well met, Lady Myriah" he offered a small nod.
"I am no Lady, my Prince. I am naught but a humble servant" she said. He nodded again. That was another habit the Velaryons had. They tended to call their servants anything but.
"You know you are more than that. You and Myrilla are friends" the Lady said. Aegon said nothing, instead looking over at the woman. Her dress was clean and well maintained, but it was not noble wear. That much was obvious. Better than anything he had seen a servant wear in King's Landing but the Velaryons were the generous sort.
The other thing that caught his attention, however, was definitely not something that belonged on a servant. A bracelet with a red stone in the middle. What did mother call them again? He tried to remember, and when he turned back to look at it, it was not there.
A trick of the light? How strange. He watched her for the rest of breakfast but never saw the bracelet again. It had to have been his headache making him see things.
A/N: Another one bites the dust. 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.