Pre-Chapter A/N: Here we go with another chapter. Here on time! Next three chapters on my patreon(https://www.patreon.com/c/Oghenevwogaga)— same username as here and link in bio.
XXXX- THE GRAND MAESTER
Runciter had known his day would be interesting the minute the raven had come from Driftmark. The announcement was clear. Four children, a safe birth, two boys and two girls. Already named. He made two copies of the note. One for his records, the other for the runner that would make the journey to the Tower of the Hand. The Lord Hand would want to be notified first. He kept the copy in his book and then prepared the original by adding to the things he would be taking with him to the small council meeting later on.
And now the meeting had begun.
"A raven from Driftmark, your Grace," he started it off. He handed it over, and the happiness on the King's face when he read the news could not be mummery. Sometimes he suspected that the King himself held some disaffection for the House Velaryon and was using his Hand as the public grudge holder for some reason but moments like this made it clear that that could not be further from the truth.
"My spies reported something similar, your Grace, but I did not wish to mention it until it could be confirmed. Now that the notice from House Velaryon has come, then I must mention it, your Grace," Lord Darklyn said.
"And what did they report?" The Lord Hand asked.
"The children sleep with dragon eggs in their cradles, my Lord."
"Dragon eggs? All four of them?" Now the King's attention had been drawn.
"Yes, your Grace."
"I wonder how Laenor managed to get so many. Rhaenys did write that Meleys was due to lay some eggs earlier, but four eggs in a single clutch seems a bit excessive," he said.
"My sources report that one of the eggs came from the Lady Velaryon's dragon, Vhagar, and the other three from the Lady Rhaenys'," he said.
"Something must be done about this, your Grace," the Hand spoke next, when it became clear to him that the King would not arrive at the conclusion he wished on his own.
"Indeed. A letter of congratulations to my Cousin is due. Grand Maester, please draft it and send him my best wishes."
"Yes, your Grace." He inclined his head, and made a note of the order.
"That was not what I was talking about, your Grace. I meant the sheer presumption in placing dragon eggs in the cots of his children. He has done so without leave, your Grace. To give out dragons without even a by your leave from the Head of House Targaryen borders dangerously close to treason, your Grace. A breach of your Grandfather's edict," he said.
"Grandfather was more worried about the dragons in the Dragonpit being claimed, not about dragon eggs hatching. It is a tradition in our family, but the eggs rarely hatch. All my children had eggs in their cradles, and none hatched. Laena Velaryon had one in her cradle, nothing happened. The same was the case for both my brother and me. Laenor was the first in decades, and his children are unlikely to repeat the feat, but even if they do, why should I care to stop or punish it? My cousin is loyal," he said. And for a second, Runciter feared that he actually believed it.
"It matters not how Laenor Velaryon feels about you. What matters is his children or his children's children. Four dragons, your Grace. In a house that already has three. If this is to happen, then the balance of power would not just shift. It would break. It would break and the world we live in will never be the same again. Already he rules the Stepstones like a personal fiefdom. He builds without seeking the crown's leave. He trades with foreign nations without consulting this Council which has supremacy on all such things in the Seven Kingdoms. He is only yet to mint his own coin and at this rate, he just might." The Hand was impassioned now. Almost frantic with how he spoke.
The normally composed man seemed to struggle to keep that famous composure, and perhaps it said something about the risks inherent that not even the Master of Laws would gainsay him on this. Where there should have been struggle, there was none. And the King noticed it as well.
"Lord Strong? What say you, my friend?"
"Aegon Targaryen conquered the Seven Kingdoms with three dragons. While none of the Velaryon dragons are Balerion, and there is no Meraxes in their number, they have Vhagar. The dragon Igneel is now of a size with Vermithor besides being near a century younger. Meleys is a veteran of wars aplenty. Four more dragons in that group is a significant force. Crucially as you have said, your Grace, the eggs may never hatch. It seems more likely for them not to hatch than it is for them to do so, but even placing the eggs is more than family tradition. It is a signifier of intent. Intent that can never be allowed to come to fruition, your Grace. Because babes do not remain babes forever, and the Seven Kingdoms are not ready for the rise of four Dragonlords who bear not the name Targaryen. The realm might never be," he said.
"I cannot stop an act that has already happened. My Grandfather taught me that a King must never be seen to be petty. The eggs are his. Placing them where he wishes is the prerogative of a Lord. The Crown can no sooner interfere in that than it can tell a Lord how to spend his gold, or how to collect his levies from his smallfolk. It is just not done. I would have a riot on my hands," he said. The classic excuse of one who did not wish to act. Claim incapacity when unwillingness was the true issue. Runciter could not respect it. He could, and did in fact do it because he had no real power of his own, but this man was the King of the Seven Kingdoms. Here he was portraying weakness before his Lords.
"Dragon eggs are not mere property, your Grace. They are dragons. No House in the realm will rise in complaint at House Velaryon being disciplined for overstepping. I can assure you of that, your Grace," the Lord Hand spoke softly here, the previous passion not quite gone, but no longer worn so plainly on his sleeves. He knew he had the King where he wanted him. Because once the excuses ran out, the man would have no choice but to act.
"What order would I give then? What would you see me do, Otto?"
"The same order that you gave Daemon, your Grace. I will make the journey myself if you need me to. The eggs will be returned as all dragon eggs, no matter who lays them or where they are laid, are the property of House Targaryen of King's Landing. The property of the Crown. Laenor Velaryon will surrender them, your Grace. He will grumble but he will be made to see reason. The Crown will not take the risk. And perhaps if a daughter of his marries into the royal house, then she will be allowed to claim a dragon. But the era of House Velaryon having dragons must come to an end, your Grace. There can be only one house of dragonlords in the realm," he said.
And while the King did not seem to like it, he did seem to be about to bend. To order their seizure. And then there was a knock on the door. The door to the small council chambers.
"Enter," the King proclaimed, and the White Cloak without opened the door before waving in a runner. One of his runners. He would only be here if there was an urgent missive. Something that would be important to the crown.
"What is it, Grand Maester?" the King asked. He gestured for the runner, a boy named Tate, to come forward. He handed the message over and bowed before the King, and then he was running off.
Runciter sniffed at the parchment. High quality. The kind used by only four of the Great Houses. The ones with so much gold and pride that it made sense to spend double the price for a marginal quality difference, and then cut that same precious parchment only to send it by raven. It was still warm and smelled of the raven that had carried it here. An original, not a copy. That meant the message was even more urgent than he feared.
But still, he did not allow his hands to shake as he removed the string and spread it open. The words were clear. All eggs hatched. Names yet to be given. Bonds with children strong.
"Grand Maester?" the Master of Laws called.
"We haven't the whole day, Runciter. What is it?" That was Ser Redwyne, the Master of Ships.
He cleared his throat so his voice did not shake.
"All four dragon eggs placed by Laenor Velaryon have hatched. The missive says they are bonded to his children now," he said. The entire council froze at that. Seven dragons now. Even in the golden age of the Targaryen empire, when Jaehaerys and Alysanne were having children yearly, the House could not claim seven grown dragons at once. That was not the case now, but it could be. In two decades, less even, if they grew as quickly as Laenor Velaryon's Igneel.
"Then it is too late," the Master of Laws said.
"No. We must just be more forceful with our actions," the Lord Hand disagreed.
"Forceful?" the King echoed, frowning. He did not like that, it seemed. Something that the Lord Hand picked up on quickly.
"A misspeaking, your Grace. I merely meant that we must ask quickly. There are four children, no? Two boys and two girls?" he said, turning to Runciter. He confirmed it with a nod.
"Then the solution is one we have been using for centuries. Both of Velaryon's girls can marry into your house. One to Aemond, the other to young Daeron. Then the oldest can take Helaena for a wife. Bind both the families so tightly that there is no question about House Velaryon's loyalty or standing," he said. Runciter noted what he had done there. Three marriages were a lot, but not one of them was the truly valuable Hand. Aegon would remain unmarried and his Hand could be used to secure another Great House. Perhaps one with a Kingdom at their back. Lord Borros was not lacking for daughters.
"Is three marriages not overmuch? The realm will whisper with so much favour being shown to a single house," Redwyne spoke now, the Master of Ships breaking his usual silence in favour of voicing a view that was certainly not his. Runciter had seen the messages that passed between him and his brother. House Redwyne sought a royal match, and taking three out of four off the table made their mission all the harder. Not like it was one that would have succeeded either way. House Hightower was quite possessive of the influence they held over the royal family among the Reacher Lords.
"A single house with seven dragons. I would ask the rest of the realm to bring their dragons and maybe we can make something happen. It is much the same as House Targaryen marrying brother to sister like it has for centuries. They are cousins and this is a reunification of what should always have been the same family," the Lord Hand said, deflecting the objection deftly as ever.
"In that case, would it not be better for Baelon to be offered? My Grandson is higher in the line of succession and I do not see Laenor refusing the chance to have one of his daughters as queen," the King said, and not even the Lord Hand's discipline and years of experience could keep his face from shifting at those words. The casual affirmation of the Crown Princess' position did not sit well with him at all.
"Princess Rhaenyra and Lord Velaryon have a history. She quite famously does not like him one bit, and he seems to share her general antipathy," the Lord Hand responded, getting his own displeasure in check and coming up with a counter for the King's proposal in a matter of seconds. Fast enough to prevent the idea from taking root, he must have hoped.
"Then a wedding is just what is needed to bring them together, no? A family should not fight. Rhaenyra will rule after me and Laenor will be her most powerful vassal. Beyond that, our houses have been friends for centuries. They have to be brought together. Now that you mention it, Otto, you are correct. A wedding would be perfect." Too late, it seemed. Quick as the Hand was, he was unfortunately too late.
"I think that is a brilliant idea, your Grace. Perhaps instead of wedding one daughter to Aemond and the other to Daeron, we wed one to Baelon, and the other to Aegon," Lord Strong, Master of Laws, spoke now. The King was nodding rapidly at the suggestion. The Lord Hand must have wanted to throttle something.
"Would Aegon's hand not be better used in binding a Great House closer to the Crown? Houses Baratheon or Tully perhaps?" Lord Darklyn asked, ever willing to be the contrarian.
"As has been pointed out by several among us, there is no house greater than House Velaryon now...with the sole exception of the royal House, of course. Aemond and Daeron are of course going to be able to take wives from either of those mentioned houses," the Master of Laws countered now. The King was nodding along. Whatever Lord Hightower had wanted to achieve with this meeting, it was clear that it was not going to go the way he wished.
"Perhaps we might float the idea to the Princess first. Let us see if she proves amenable to it before offering matches to Lord Velaryon," he said now, trying one last gambit.
"You're right as always, Otto. Best we let Rhaenyra know before finding a bride for her son. But this must be something I tell her in person. I must impress upon her the necessity of this match. The distance between our houses has been allowed to abide for far too long. Laenor and I have a great friendship but neither of us will live or rule forever. We must begin binding the next generation. We must," he said, rising from his seat. The rest of the council rose after him, bowing as he began to leave.
"Grand Maester, see to it that my daughter is before me by the morrow. Tell her it is urgent and that she must fly Syrax here with all haste," he said as he crossed the distance to the door.
"I have tired for the day, my Lords. Do see to the rest of the Realm's business while I take my rest," he said, and the door banged shut behind him, leaving the small council sat in an itchy silence.
XXXXX- LAENOR VELARYON
When the first dragon hatched, Mother had near had a stroke. It was unbelievable to her. Dragons were not supposed to hatch in the cribs, she had felt. I had been a special case. What were the odds that one of my children would be the same? But then the second had hatched mere minutes later, and then the third. The last dragon had taken the longest to hatch, little Romulus stuck holding an egg while his siblings lived with little drakes cuddled in their blankets.
At least that had been the case until night. We woke to the screeching of a drake, and it was not one of the other three. The green drake seemed to loom over my son and it gave me a nasty fright when I woke to find it sitting atop his chest. But like the others, it took easily to me and moved when I needed it to. Thankfully, the screech had woken none of the others or their dragons. I petted it and then went to the table off to the side. We had some milk leftover from the others. Drakes took a few days to grow enough to be able to eat meat, and until they did so, they could be fed hot milk. Either that, or just left to their own devices.
In the wild, drakes starved till they grew enough to be able to eat meat or fish but that was not an acceptable situation. Until they were grown enough to handle it themselves, Laena and I were in charge of keeping our children's dragons, and it would be our jobs to ensure they didn't die and didn't develop bad habits either. Just leaving them to starve was not an option. I ladled some of the milk into a bowl and placed my index finger inside. It took me a few seconds of concentration, but I was able to heat it to the point of bubbling. My control was getting better.
'Indeed, we must begin a parade to celebrate. The great lord Laenor Velaryon has managed to boil milk,' the voice in my head sardonically pitched in.
"Shut up, Aurion," I whispered before offering the milk to the drake. It lapped at it greedily, drinking and drinking until it was full.
When it was, it just slumped against my son's chest and began sleeping. I put the bowl away and began removing the egg shells. It would not do for Romulus to cut himself against a sharp edge.
'Just a regular nursing mother, you are,' the voice shot in again.
"Aren't you supposed to have better things to do?"
'You said you wanted me to teach you, no? If you want that, then you'll deal with having me all the time.'
"A terrible deal," I snarked but did not say more.
A/N: I contemplated having all but one hatch, but that character arc would have been too predictable in my mind. Instead we get everyone with dragons from the beginning. Discount on patreon(https://www.patreon.com/c/Oghenevwogaga) for those interested. Next chapter comes on here on Sunday night/Monday morning (depending on your timezone). Next three 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.