(Tides and Canvas) Chapter 12: Sparking Intrigue (Patreon)

Chapter 12: Sparking Intrigue

108 AC, Driftmark

As he walked next to the princess, Laenor found himself wondering why such a young girl made him feel such a rising dread and trepidation with every moment with her.

Though she would never risk saying it out loud in fear of offending her hosts, Rhaenyra was disappointed with her time on Driftmark so far. She had been happy at first, knowing that her uncle, Daemon, had emerged victorious in the Stepstones, despite Otto Hightower’s attempts. The foul man had been able to stop her father from aiding his own brother and the Sea Snake while they fought against Essosi slavers who charged the people of the Seven Kingdoms ruinous tolls to pass through the islands, and yet her father was too weak to see it as the act of war, as the obvious challenge to his rule, that it was.

The world was not afraid of House Targaryen and its dragonless king, for no Essosi would have attempted anything like this during the Conciliator’s reign. Alas, King Jaehaerys was dead, and Alicent’s father was weakening the realm with every passing second as he tried to use her to control the Iron Throne.

The Sea Snake was no better, of course. She had been there when the Velaryons paraded Laena to her father as nought more than a child, so that she would become his next queen. Their scheme might have failed, but at least Laena had dragon’s blood in her veins. In the end, this tourney proved that little had changed, for the realm had seen House Velaryon return triumphant, having broken the King’s Peace without his leave and won a war without his support. They celebrated defying the King and had invited the royal family itself, a display of their might at sea, and their complete victory in the Stepstones.

The world had forgotten the strength of the House of the Dragon, and it would be up to her to change that. The only upside being that the Hightowers did not like the Velaryons gaining more power, as if Alicent wasn’t a pious little schemer who wormed her way into her father’s bed.

Even then, Otto had used this to his advantage, somehow convincing her father to force the Sea Snake to arrange for a celebration of her half-brother’s first nameday. Lord Velaryon looked like he had swallowed something unpleasant on that day, which was quite funny, though the situation was quite unamusing as she heard the frantic whispers for the days following them, of lords and ladies, hoping to buy a gift for the ‘future king’.

That had nearly brought her to a mad rage when she heard this, but also a deep melancholy. Her father finally had his precious son now, birthed by Alicent, the one that Rhaenyra’s mother failed to bring into the world, the one he butchered his wife trying to get him.

One day, soon, Rhaenyra would no longer be heir. Her father had avoided the subject since the moment Aegon was born, but he tended to avoid anything that displeased him, much like taking away the only thing she had left.

She would admit that she relished the idea of becoming more than a broodmare, to become the first ruling Queen of the Iron Throne, even if it was built on the idea that her father did not want Daemon to be king. Perhaps it was wrong of her to hope, knowing that she would inevitably be replaced, but hope was a strong and powerful thing.

Alas, it seemed that Rhaenyra’s hopes were to be dashed soon, and her half-brother would be king. It was past almost Aegon’s first nameday, and this tourney was a perfect opportunity to announce Aegon as his heir; half of the realm was on Driftmark, and it would dim some of the Sea Snake’s rising star, something she knew that her father would approve of.

That would leave Rhaenyra with no protection, and what little freedom she had would be taken from her. Daemon remained banished, unwelcome in her father’s court, and she only had her sword shield, Ser Criston, who could only do so much to help her, aside from intimidating the countless lordlings who tried to court her, all of whom were pushed by their power-hungry lords who wished to marry into the House of the Dragon, and the King’s only daughter.

Unfortunately for them, Rhaenyra would not choose any husband, for he would have to be worthy of the blood of the dragon. She would not be turned into a broodmare like her mother or be relegated to a trophy that a lord would display at his leisure. She was a dragon, and only someone who would not attempt to quell her flames but make them burn even stronger.

Her thoughts drifted to her uncle, Daemon. He should have been there, in this tourney. She would have loved seeing him unhorse Alicent’s brother, and this was as much his victory as it was Corlys Velaryon’s, perhaps even more so. She was not informed of the details of the war, but she imagined Caraxes burning away the Triarchy’s fleets to be much more effective than the rumoured advanced ships that the Sea Snake possessed.

Rhaenyra was brought out of her thoughts as she heard the crowd cheer. She looked up and saw Harwin Strong being surprisingly unseated by the new mystery knight, the Knight of the Tree and Stars. It was quite the silly name, but it was the one that was given to him, due to the symbol painted on his shield. It was a white tree surrounded by stars and a crown, atop a field of black.

Mystery knights were commonplace in many tourneys, though only a few were allowed to compete, to make things more interesting. They tended to be crowd favourites, though most did not make it past their first joust. The Knight of the Tree and Stars had gone through many knights of no renown earlier, and Rhaenyra thought that it was likely some lordling who wished to make a name for themselves, especially given the comments from Ser Criston, who called him talented, though inexperienced in jousts, and complimented his armour, which was well-forged.

Nevertheless, the fact that he unhorsed the son of the Master of Laws, who was, by no measure, a weak knight, changed things. Just as he did every time, the Mystery Knight walked forward towards his downed opponent and asked for the favour he wore as his ransom.

It was something that she had never seen before, but for most knights, they were quite a lot better than forfeiting their arms or horse. The Mystery Knight wore every favour that he took from his opponents, something which the Smallfolk loved, given their cheers.

Of course, she expected that some jousters would find that insulting, though it was only a piece of cloth in the end, and hardly a scandal. Ser Harwin did not seem to be angered at all, as he good naturally handed his favour over to the mystery knight with a chuckle on his face. It belonged to his sister, if she remembered correctly, who was blushing in embarrassment in the stands.

Still, this victory made the mystery knight interesting, perhaps far more than anything else during this tourney. She wished she knew more about the man, but she supposed eventually, the knight would lose, and his face would be revealed to the world, even if he reached the finals by some miracle, for he would certainly lose to her Ser Criston.

As she watched the next competitor enter, and realising that it was Ser Gwayne Hightower, Rhaenyra found that she did not wish to watch the rest of the joust, and she discreetly left, or at least as discreetly as she could, given that she remained a princess. After all, Ser Harrold Westerling followed her like a shadow, as was his duty as a Kingsguard.

After some deliberation, she decided that this was an opportunity to go to Spicetown without being bothered by lordlings who tried to court her, as they would all be busy with the tourney. She had heard much of the town and the luxuries sold there, which were rare on this side of the narrow sea.

The rumours were, if anything, watered down, for she returned to High Tide hours later, having commissioned silk dresses from Yi-Ti, and one beautiful one made of lace from Myr. She also purchased a lovely mirror that was clearer and larger than the one she previously bought. It was said that the Sea Snake had bought as many mirrors as he could before his war in the Stepstones, knowing that their price would increase, and the profit from these sales paid for the war that he waged, defeating the Triarchy with gold he earned by selling their own prized wares.

Rhaenyra smiled as she made her way up High Tide, feeling much better than she had during the joust. She was still unfamiliar with the castle and so found herself getting lost as she walked around the fortress. It was certainly a beautiful one, filled with riches from around the world that surpassed even the ones in the Red Keep.

It was then that she heard it, the sound of a harp beautifully weaving music that she had never heard before. It was distant and yet its beauty stopped her completely in her tracks, especially as a male voice began to sing.

“The Road goes ever on and onDown from the door where it began.Now far ahead the Road has gone,And I must follow, if I can."

The song was a beautiful one, yet it was the song itself that felt like… more. It repeated, each time with a different variation, telling something of a story, the start of a journey, of possibilities ahead of them, before becoming somewhat sombre near the end, with a certain weariness and nostalgia brimming with it, though outshone by a wonder to explore the world.

Eventually, the song ended, the last note lingering in the air before fading into nothing. She wiped a small tear that had fallen from her eyes. She did not know why she had cried, but for some reason this song made her feel a great ache that she never knew existed within her, one that reminded her strangely of her mother, one that reminded her of the journey ahead of her.

Rhaenyra decided then and there that she would have this bard, that she would bring him back with her to King’s Landing, for he would certainly be more entertaining than that fool, Mushroom.  She couldn’t help but wonder what other songs he might have had, and other beauty he had brought into the world, that she could enjoy.

The Princess discreetly walked forward to the source of the voice and stopped as she realised that it had come from outside a window. She looked down discreetly, trying not to be seen, anticipating the bard's appearance. Would he be as lovely as his voice? Would he be a travelling smallfolk, a forgotten bastard of a lord, or perhaps a singer from across the world?

She smiled in excitement at the reveal, only to freeze in her tracks as she saw three familiar people sitting beneath the shade of a tree.

For it was both Velaryon siblings and the squire boy, Lonmouth, with whom they often spent time. Most notably, it was Laenor Velaryon who was holding the harp and flinching as his sister rubbed what must have been a healing salve on his chest.

She heard Laena loudly scolding her brother, “Stop moving, Laenor.”

“Then stop pressing so hard,” the boy retorted, making them both chuckle, “It hurts worse than being hit.”

“Perhaps if you hadn’t suddenly burst into song, it would have hurt less,” the Lonmouth boy spoke up.

“It distracts me from the pain,” the bruised boy pouted.

The Velaryon girl commented out loud, “Couldn’t you have, at least, sung something livelier. Why that song?”

For the first time, the boy had a distant look on his face, “I… I don’t know. It felt right, I suppose.”

The girl pressed the salve to his bruises once more, and he hissed once more. She gave him a warning look, and he looked away, muttering, “I thought they were exaggerating when they called him Breakbones.”

The Lonmouth boy gave him a grin, “At least with his defeat, you’ve distinguished yourself enough that even your father could not deny you anymore; you’ve all but become the talk of the tourney. I told you that taking the favours as ransoms would have some attention, and you have been busy with the gift that he commissioned from you.”

Laenor shook his head, “I can’t afford it… I’ll try to move as far as I can as I cannot risk Father thinking my efforts to be lacking, not with this,” both of his companions nodded solemnly, though he had a somewhat sheepish look of his face as he continued, “And I suppose I am also curious how I would fare against the rest of the knights of the realm.”

Laena burst into laughter, “What happened to jousting being made of idiots on horses trying to knock each other away with sticks?”

The boy pushed her jokingly, and a playful ribbing followed. She was tempted to smile, if it weren’t for the confirmation of what she heard. Laenor Velaryon was the Mystery Knight, and he participated in the tourney on behalf of his father. That alone made her… curious.

She had not thought much of the boy when he had all but avoided her following the quick tour of High Tide. At the time, she had not cared, thinking him one of these shy scions of lords who did not dare speak to her. At least they were better than the proud and entitled others, who would not leave her alone.

Still, the boy avoided her, and Rhaenyra had not minded. She personally thought that Laena was the more noteworthy sibling. She was certainly more excitable, and she rode the largest dragon in the world, while the boy was dragonless and also disappeared for hours during the tourney. Now, it made sense as he competed in the lists, but it was not considered surprising, as the servants often said that he hid himself in the tallest room on High Tide, which they were not allowed to enter.

Though perhaps she had judged him too harshly, for he was not yet a knight, but had defeated fully-grown ones in the lists. However, she found that it was the song that would not leave her mind, for its words repeated again and again. It was foolish, she told herself. It was only a song.

Yet she could not ignore it, because of what it made her feel, because its singer had been avoiding her, something that she now realised bothered her greatly. During their tour of High Tide, he had been courteous but distant. He had answered her questions with the fewest words possible. His eyes rarely met hers for more than a moment. And afterward, he had simply… vanished.

Did he dislike her so greatly that he would not even attempt to speak to her, a princess of the blood? Perhaps he was frightened of her? Or worse, did he think her dull and think himself above her?

Each of these possibilities stung more than they should have, and Rhaenyra stepped out of the window before she could be seen, schooling her expression into a calm composure.

“Princess?” Ser Harold asked quietly, perhaps with a hint of worry.

“I believe that it is time that I return to my chambers.”

“As you command, princess,” the faithful knight retorted.

As they walked towards the chambers assigned to her, her thoughts of being found lacking by Laenor Velaryon would not leave her. If he thought that he could avoid her, then he did not understand who she was. She would find out why he avoided her so, and she would uncover what he was hiding. Despite her best effort, she found herself smirking; after all, her time in Driftmark had certainly gotten far more exciting.

AN: This story is still relatively new, so if you'd like me to continue it, please let me know in the comments what you think of the rewrite so far.

This chapter was supposed to show a bit of how things are in terms of the coming succession crisis, which wasn’t exactly the case anymore, which is why I chose Rhaenyra as its POV. She believes that she will be replaced soon, and since Aegon is still pretty young and Viserys avoided the subject, she has no reason to think he will keep her as his heir, even if she wants him to. I tried to progress the tourney stuff a bit.

The song that Laenor sings is the poem ‘The Road goes ever on and on’ by Tolkien in The Lord of the Rings Trilogy. I’ve been on a bit of a Tolkien kick, and I loved this one when I read it. I’m not sure if putting it here was the right move, though, even if it's not full.

Anyway, I decided to use this to shift a bit Rhaenyra’s perception of Laenor, and a bit of a contrast from her usual relationships, since she’s beginning to be fascinated with him, while he’s scared shitless of her, though he’s not sure why. As usual, I don’t mind rewriting this chapter depending on your feedback, so please let me know what you think and if you have any suggestions.