Laena Velaryon

Seriously this is a looong chapter, listen to some music :)

—-

He sat at the head table, Laena Velaryon sat to his right and to his left sat Lord Lyonel Strong. Lord Strong was chatting away to a woman he didn't recognise. Aerions eyes wandered across the hall, a large area had been cleared for dancing couples.

Music blared through the hall, a small group of bards playing a cheerful song as nobles mingled and celebrated. Aerions hand found his wine goblet, taking a large sip of the smooth drink. 

Far better than any wine he'd ever tasted before, smooth and sweet. He could barely resist finishing off the goblet as he leaned back in his chair. His eyes ran back over the beautifully decorated hall, black and red Targaryen banners lining the walls, 

"Prince Aerion," Laena greeted, catching the attention of the dark-haired Valyrian. He turned his head, straightening slightly as he met the gaze of the beautiful lady.

"Lady Laena," he replied, his eyes briefly taking in her seated form. The dark blue dress she wore shimmered with sparkling gems embedded in the fabric, and beautiful embroidery patterns traced down its length, highlighting its exquisite craftsmanship.

A striking golden necklace adorned her neck, and diamond earrings caught the light, enhancing the allure of her purple eyes, which glimmered with curiosity and warmth.

"I hear your dragon is quite the marvel" she said curiously, her eyes roaming over his form, pausing briefly on the silver ring on his finger. The Targaryen sigil was briefly illuminated on the jewellery.

"He is" Aerion replied proudly, he'd gone to see Gaelithox a few times already in the pit. Though he hasn't flown him again, not until the saddle he commissioned is finished. 

"I've heard the same of Vhagar, you claimed her quite recently did you not?" He asked, the story had spread across the whole realm. A girl of five-and-ten had claimed the largest dragon in the world. 

Laena smiled at the mention of Vhagar. She reached for the goblet of wine next to her, bringing it to her lips as she took a small sip.

"Yes, I did," Laena confirmed, a hint of pride lacing her words as she leaned back in her chair, her gaze lingering on Aerion.

"Flying on Vhagar is an incredible experience—the size, the power…" Her voice softened reverently, a soft smile touching her lips. Aerion swirled the wine in his goblet before taking a small, thoughtful sip, letting the sweetness linger on his tongue.

"It must be," he replied, smiling. "She's about twice the size of Gaelithox, and flying him felt…" He paused, chewing the inside of his cheek as he searched for the right word. "…breathtaking," he finished softly, his mind drifting back to the memory of his flight.

Laena seemed surprised at his words, nodding thoughtfully as her eyes sparkled with curiosity.

"So, Gaelithox is rather large," she acknowledged, shifting slightly in her seat. Aerion hummed in agreement, his fingers tracing the rim of his goblet, taking a sip before responding.

"Around the same size as Caraxes," he added, placing the goblet down as he spoke. Laena's eyes widened slightly at the revelation, though Aerion didn't notice as his gaze wandered back to the bustling crowd.

"They're reshaping one of Caraxes' old saddles for him," he mentioned casually, his mind already imagining the future flights. "It'll be a new design, new seat, new leather—but a similar frame, I suppose."

She hummed curiously as her mind briefly wandered to her fathers words. Her gaze went back to the Prince, his form slumped casually in the chair, his unseeing gaze on the crowd ahead as he took another sip of wine. 

He was wearing formal black fabrics, thin, subtle intricate golden embroidery ran down his chest and sleeves. Over his shoulders hung a dark cape that ran down all the way to the back of his thighs. 

An intricate, dark silver circlet was wrapped around his head, carved dragon scales running down the jewellery. His dark hair framed his rather handsome face, his features sharp and typically Valyrian. 

He was eight-and-ten, he was only two years older than her. He had a dragon, was good with a sword and had his own house. He most certainly wouldn't be the worst possible match. 

Far better than the sea-lords son anyway. 

His fingers gently tapped the table, the silver ring once again catching the light. The Targaryen sigil shining in the light as it did. 

"Can I ask why the ring bears the Targaryen sigil?" Laena asked curiously, her eyes flicking to the silver band on his finger. After all, he has his own house, his own sigil.

Aerion's gaze followed hers, lingering on the ring. He paused for a moment, his thumb tracing the sigil before finally meeting her eyes.

"It was a gift," he said, his tone softer now, a faint trace of something unspoken in his words. "From the Princess." 

Laena ran her tongue over the roof of her mouth as she looked into the Prince's eyes. A hint of trepidation building in her chest. 

Her head turned and looked over closer to the centre of the table, Laenor and Rhaenyra sat next to one another. Laenor seemed to be acting courteous enough, but the Princess seemed…bored. 

Her eyes flicked back to Aerion, the Prince had finished another goblet of wine. She took a sip of her own wine, she had to admit it was stellar.

Laena's gaze then flickered between Aerion and the dancers twirling on the floor. "Do you dance?" she asked, a small smile playing on her lips, almost knowing the answer already.

"No, I'm very likely awful at it" Aerion snorted, a mix of surprise and amusement. Refilling his goblet once more.

"You know that they say, swordsmen are the best dancers" Laena said with amusement in her tone, trying to coax him to his feet.

"Do they?" He asked curiously, his eyes meeting hers. 

"No, I made that up" she revealed with a playful glimmer in her eyes. "But it would be a shame to waste a perfectly good evening sitting here. You can't hide behind that goblet forever."

He laughed and raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "And if I do, what will you do?"

"I'll just have to drag you out there myself," she replied with a playful glimmer in her eyes. Her gaze flickered toward the dance floor, as if daring him to resist. "Now, shall we? Don't keep a lady waiting."

She stood, offering him her hand. 

With a reluctant grin, Aerion took her hand, rising from his seat. "Very well, Lady Laena. Lead the way."

—-

Rhaenyra's eyes drifted toward the dance floor, where Aerion twirled gracefully with Laena Velaryon. She watched them in silence, noting the easy smile on his lips and the way Laena's dimples deepened as she smiled back at him.

Her gaze slid to Laenor, who was deep in conversation with a knight, seemingly more interested in their discussion than her presence.

A flicker of irritation rose in her chest as she gripped the goblet of wine tighter, taking a long sip of the sweet liquid to quell it. Aerion was dancing, Laenor was chatting, and here she sat, doing nothing.

Her eyes shifted to her right, where her father conversed with Corlys, and Alicent, looking forlorn, gazed down at the table. Every so often, Alicent glanced at the dancers with a hint of longing in her hazel eyes.

"Dear niece," Daemon's voice slid into her thoughts, like a shadow cutting through light. She blinked, her focus shifting from the dance floor to the man standing behind her.

"Uncle," she greeted, a small smirk tugging at her lips. He was dressed in the typical black and red, his sword, Dark Sister sheathed at his hip.

"Come," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument, as he extended his hand. Her eyes flicked to Laenor once more, she sighed and downed the rest of her wine before placing her hand in his.

Together, they descended to the dance floor, where the music of lutes and drums echoed through the hall, setting the rhythm for the ceremonial dance.

Nobles in flowing gowns and embroidered doublets moved in perfect harmony, each step deliberate and measured. Though no one touched, the dancers drew close, their movements a reflection of old Andal courtly traditions.

With practised precision, they stepped into each other's space, faces inches apart, before turning gracefully, circling one another like dragons in flight. Always maintaining a delicate distance, each movement was both intimate and distant.

The rhythm was intricate and elegant—every step forward met with a graceful retreat. As the dancers moved, their robes and capes swirled around them, the soft rustle of silks and velvets creating an almost hypnotic flow, as if the floor itself was alive with their movements.

Rhaenyra and Daemon stepped into the throng seamlessly fitting into the dance as they stepped back and forth into one another's space. Twirling around one another gracefully, they'd been trained to do these dances since they were young. 

Royal duties. 

"Over there" Daemon said, in High Valyrian as he nodded over towards the head table. "They're brokering your future marriage"

Rhaenyra's jaw clenched, as she stepped forward, inches away from her uncle, feeling the heat ooze off of him and twirled before stepping back. 

"Are they?" She asked back in High Valyrian, annoyance clear in her clipped tone. As they did another twirl, before she stepped closer, her eyes locked onto the older man's. 

"Laenor Velaryon" Daemon's voice was low, his breath brushing against her skin. "He would bore you, leave you wanting" His words lingered, and Rhaenyra's gaze flickered for just a moment, considering before she scoffed.

"I suppose you'll know who wouldn't bore me" she remarked, her eyes narrowing in a mix of interest and annoyance. 

They stepped closer, Damon's warm hand grabbing her jaw, his grip like iron. She looked up into his eyes challengingly as he tilted her head back.  

"Me" he whispered, the High Valyrian slipping from his lips like silk. His eyes, usually light, darkened with a familiar intensity, almost as dark as Aerion's. 

"And you're married…to your Bronze Bitch" she taunted, daring him, her words laced with venom. His grip on her jaw tightened.

"That will change" he growled, his breath grazing her lips. 

"When it's changed, then we'll speak" she replied, her voice smooth, almost teasing, as she met his gaze without flinching.

She caught a fleeting glimpse of Aerion and Laena, twirling in graceful synchrony, their smiles bright and carefree. Something in her chest tightened—a strange mix of envy and irritation flaring up as she watched the easy way they moved together.

Her gaze shifted back to Daemon, his dark eyes still locked on her with an intensity that made her pulse quicken. 

For a moment, the air between them felt like it was ready to snap, heavy with unsaid things. But instead of giving in, she let out a slow breath, pushing back the heat creeping up her neck.

With a sigh that carried the weight of unspoken frustration, she stepped back, breaking their invisible tether. 

Daemon's grip on her jaw loosened reluctantly, his fingers trailing over her skin like a lingering promise. Without another word, Rhaenyra turned on her heel, moving through the throng of dancers.

Her steps felt deliberate, measured, as if every stride was an effort to regain control, to put distance between herself and the pull of her uncle's gaze. 

Her heart still raced, the echo of their heated exchange swirling in her mind, but she forced herself to focus on her destination—back to the high table.

—-

Aerion laughed, loud and joyous, leaning back against a pillar with a goblet of wine in his hands. He had just come off the dance floor, he'd never known it could be so…fun. 

Laena stood across from him, a smile on her own face as her eyes lingered on his grin. Something about it pulled her in, the dimples, his teeth and the light flush on his cheeks. 

"You're a good dancer, My Prince" she complimented. Aerion snorted as he took another sip of the sweet wine before he responded. 

They were standing by a nearby balcony entrance at the edge of the large hall, cold, night air gently coming through the doors and cooling them, bringing a modicum of relief in the warm room. 

"I nearly fell on top of Lady Beesbury, you've no need to lie Lady Laena" he said playfully as he took another sip, the wine slowly going to his head. She smirked, they were close, he could feel the heat of her body emanating from her. 

"Well, you weren't the best" she said playfully, Aerion only grinned at her words. "But enough about dancing" she bluntly changed the subject, Aerion perking in interest at her words. 

"You should fly with me" she said, tilting her chin upwards slightly as pride and excitement lit in her eyes. "You can see first hand how powerful Vhagar is" she tempted. 

Aerion shook his head "I'd fly circles around Vhagar" he joked "Gaelithox is a nimble thing" he commented as he leaned further back against the pillar his smile widening. 

"What makes you so confident, didn't you tell me you'd only flown him once?" She questioned, amusement clear in her eyes.

"Just trust me" he insisted with a grin. 

—-

Viserys was sitting, surveying the lively celebrations, flanked by Lord Corlys on his left and Alicent on his right, with Rhaenyra lounging beside the Queen.

"What about Prince Aerion?" Lord Corlys asked, curiosity flickering in his purple eyes as they drifted toward the young prince and his daughter. "He seems to have taken a liking to my Laena"

Rhaenys, sitting beside Lord Corlys, suddenly perked up at the mention of her daughter, her gaze sweeping over Laena with interest. Viserys, however, shook his head, slowly sipping his wine before replying.

"I don't control his betrothals; he's his own lord," he said, unaware of the scowl darkening Rhaenyra's expression as she stared into her goblet of wine at his words. Envious of the choice Aerion had been given, she thought of how free he was.

She remembered their dragon flight together—the way he grinned at her, his hair shining gold, his teeth gleaming in the sunlight that framed him. In that moment, he had been the most beautiful sight she'd ever seen.

In that single moment, he was Freedom incarnate: no ties in the sky, no saddle holding him down, riding a wild, unknown dragon.

She took another large sip of wine. 

"Okay, now about Laenor?" Lord Corlys asked, his tone serious as he eyed The King. Rhaenyra scoffed into her goblet, quickly downing the rest of the wine before getting to her feet and making her way out of the hall. 

She made her way down the steps to the hall, leaving the High table behind as she walked through the dance floor, uncaring of the dances she interrupted as she strode out to a nearby balcony. 

Aerions conversation was interrupted as Rhaenyra stormed past, her platinum hair catching his attention as she walked onto the nearby balcony.

"Aerion?" Laena asked in slight confusion, her back was to the balcony doors, she turned around not seeing anything. Aerion blinked, running his hand through his hair as he met eyes with her. 

"I'm sorry, can I—I'll just be a moment" he said with a smile as he suddenly brushed past her, making his way onto the balcony. 

Confusion and curiosity built in him as he spied Rhaenyra, leaning against the railing, the moon softly illuminating her form. 

"Princess" he greeted, as he closed the balcony doors behind him, the music being almost muted entirely though they could still hear hints. 

She didn't respond, her gaze fixed on the glittering Blackwater Bay. The moonlight shining over it like diamonds. He came to a stop to her left, leaning on the balcony railings next to her as his eyes ran across the water. 

Aerion let a moment of silence linger between them, the only sound being the gentle lapping of the waves against the shore far below and the distant music from the festivities inside. 

He stole a glance at Rhaenyra, noticing how the moonlight played with the angles of her face, making her look both ethereal and troubled.

"Are the celebrations not to your liking?" he asked, curiously as his fingers gently tapped against the railing. His cheeks were still slightly flushed by the alcohol. 

Rhaenyra turned her head slightly, her gaze still distant. "It's not the celebration that irks me" she said, her voice low and measured. Though clearly she has also drunk her fair share going by the flush on her usually pale cheeks. 

"Then what does? He asked curiously, a moment of silence passing as Rhaenyra seemed to weigh her words before she spoke. 

"My father, the Velaryons, Daemon…you" she muttered in annoyance. Aerion blinked in surprise as he paused and turned his head to her. 

"Me?" He echoed, surprise burning through him. 

"You spent the entire night dancing with Laena Velaryon, and you haven't spoken a word to me" She said as she kept her gaze on Blackwater Bay. Aerion swallowed suddenly feeling a ball of guilt build in his stomach.

Another moment of silence passed, Aerions fingers had stopped tapping as his eyes ran across her face. 

"I'm sorry Rhaenyra" he said genuinely "I didn't—"

"It's okay, I'm just frustrated" she interrupted hastily, a more pronounced flush building on her cheeks as she kept her gaze forward. Aerion sighed softly, the silence between them thickening. 

He had always felt a quiet pull toward her—an unspoken bond neither of them could fully name. Rhaenyra meant more to him than he'd ever admit, even to himself. 

But in moments like this, when her eyes flicked toward him, sharp yet vulnerable, he could feel the depth of it. The weight of her frustrations stirred something protective within him, something that made him want to fix what he couldn't.

He shifted closer, his arm brushing hers as he leaned against the railing, the warmth of her body palpable. Rhaenyra didn't move away, but her knuckles whitened as her fingers gripped the railing tighter.

"It's not fine," Aerion said softly, his voice low, almost intimate. "If I've upset you, I want to know why"

Rhaenyra's eyes flicked to him then, sharp and searching, her frustration mingling with something deeper. She pushed off the railing, turning to face him fully, the moonlight bathing her in a silvery glow.

"You have the freedom to choose," she said finally, her voice betraying a mix of bitterness and yearning. "While I—" she paused, her jaw tightening, "I am bound to duty, to a future that's not truly mine to decide"

He was silent for a moment, weighing what she had just said, the vulnerability behind her frustration grounding him. 

"You think I'm free?" Aerion said quietly, his voice tinged with something like sorrow. "I might be able to choose who I marry, but I still have duties, responsibilities, we all do."

Rhaenyra's gaze drifted, her thoughts clearly somewhere else. She thought back to that moment, when he was atop Gaelithox, soaring through the skies with the wind in his hair. The sun had framed him, casting him in a radiant, wild glow. She remembered how he looked—untamed, unbound, and utterly free. 

"You seem free to me," she muttered, her voice softer now, the bitterness fading. Her guard dropped slightly as her eyes flicked up to his, and there was something unspoken there—something dangerous.

Aerion's heart quickened under her gaze. The moonlight glinted off her skin, casting a soft glow on her flushed cheeks, and he found himself caught in the pull of her eyes. 

For a moment, he allowed himself to linger there. He glanced down at her lips. His eyes flicked back to hers, the bright lilac darkening as her cheeks flushed. Her lips parted, Aerions blood thrummed violently through his veins in response. 

He tore his gaze away, forcing himself to look out at the Blackwater Bay, trying to shake the thoughts racing through his mind. 

The sound of the distant waves did little to calm the pounding in his chest. The moon, hanging low and heavy in the sky, only made the moment feel more surreal.

A ridiculous idea popped into his mind, he turned his head, looking up at the moon briefly before his eyes landed back on Rhaenyra.

"Do you want to fly?" he asked, his voice low, daring, as his fingers gripped the railing tightly. The question hung between them, heavy with unspoken promise.

For a moment, she simply stared at him, her expression unreadable, and Aerion feared he had made a mistake. But then, her lips parted in a short, breathless laugh, more startled than joyful. 

"Now?" she asked, the disbelief fading into something far more dangerous—excitement, reckless and wild. 

—-

A sudden roar pierced the night air, Viserys stiffening as he whipped his head towards the sound. The party quietened as the roar seemed to echo through the hall. Viserys stood and walked over to a nearby balcony, his steps steady, a soft twinge of pain radiating from his back. 

The faint sight of Syrax flying through the air caught his eyes, the golden dragon barely visible through the night sky. His eyes caught the glint of silver hair against the night sky, the unmistakable gleam of his daughter atop Syrax's back.

A sigh escaped him, heavy with unspoken frustrations. He watched as the dragon swooped low over Blackwater Bay, his hand gripped the railing tighter as a familiar ache of weariness settled in his bones. 

She always tested the bounds, regardless of the potential consequences.

He turned his head, quite a few nobles had made their way to the balcony, staring at the beautiful dragon. But one specific noble, a lady in particular, caught his eye. 

Laena Velaryon, standing completely alone, Aerion nowhere to be seen. 

—-

A grin split Aerion's face as he leaned back in the saddle, arms spreading wide to embrace the rushing wind. The roar of the wind drowned out everything else, a deafening howl that tugged at their senses and sent adrenaline coursing through him. 

A breathless laugh escaped him as Syrax glided effortlessly over the bay, the rhythmic beat of her wings barely audible beneath the chaos.

Rhaenyra sat ahead of him, hands gripping the reins tightly, knuckles white against the strain. Below them, the water shimmered like a sea of stars, glittering in the moonlight. 

Syrax's golden wing dipped suddenly into the bay, a spray of icy water shot up toward them, sharp and stinging against their skin.

Aerion spluttered, startled as the cold droplets hit his face, while Rhaenyra gasped in shock, a soft laugh bubbling from her lips as the chill cut through the heated air.

Syrax released an amused trill, the dragon's delight in their surprise unmistakable, adding to the cacophony that surrounded them. Aerion's heart raced, exhilaration coursing through him as the dragon started to ascend, lifting them above the tumult below.

The chill from the water forgotten, his racing blood warmed him, the fabric of his cape snapping back violently in the wind as they suddenly burst through a cloud.

As they rose higher, the stench of King's Landing faded, replaced by the crisp scent of the night air, invigorating and pure.

The wind roared louder, whipping around them like a living thing, every gust a wild embrace. Syrax committed to a sharp turn, and Aerion let out a joyous laugh, tightening his grip on the saddle as they swooped lower once more before Syrax started to once again ascend. 

Rhaenyra glanced back over her shoulder, her lilac eyes shining in the moonlight as her hair whipped erratically in the air. In that moment, their gazes locked, and an amused grin tugged at the corners of her lips.

Aerion's own grin widened, his hair blowing wildly around his face, his eyes crinkling at the edges with joy.

"I never want to land!" he shouted over the wind, his voice filled with certainty, his hands gripping onto the saddle beneath him. The chaos of the world below felt a lifetime away.

"Neither do I!" she exclaimed back, her laughter ringing out with the wind, bright and unrestrained. "I love it up here!"

Her hair became wild and untamed, shimmering silver in the moonlight. For a few brief moments, he wondered how those silken locks would feel caught in his fingers.

"It's beautiful!" he shouted back, his grip on the reins tightening as his eyes remained fixed on her, the world around them a whirlwind of sound and sensation.

Rhaenyra leaned back in her saddle, letting out another joyous laugh, her eyes closing and her whole frame shaking with the force of it. Syrax took a sudden upward dip, sending the air roaring around them anew, and another peel of laughter escaped the princess' lips.

This was how life should be—wild and unrestrained, the wind a whip at their backs and the night's endless sky their only limit.

Syrax sharply pulled up, both of their grips tightening instinctively at the movement as the golden dragon burst up through the thick clouds above them.

In an instant, the roaring wind transformed into a soft whisper, the chaotic symphony below fading into a distant murmur. Aerion's breath caught in his throat as they emerged into a world of pure tranquillity.

The clouds stretched out beneath them like a vast, billowing sea of white, illuminated by the silver glow of the moon. The air was cool and crisp, a gentle caress against their flushed faces, and the only sound was the soft, rhythmic beating of the dragon's wings.

Rhaenyra's laughter faded into soft giggles, replaced by a sense of wonder as she gazed down at the ethereal landscape below. Her exhilaration bubbled over, a wild energy coursing through her veins as she felt the freedom of the sky.

Suddenly, her hands shot down to the chains binding her to the saddle, the clinking sound piercing through the quiet air. Aerion's eyes widened as she deftly undid them, her movements bold and daring.

In an instant, she turned in the saddle to face him, her lilac eyes burning with a fierce excitement that sent his blood roaring. The wind caught her hair, whipping it around her like a silvery halo, and he couldn't help but stare at her.

"You could fall," he warned breathlessly, his voice shaky, his eyes drawn to her waist, now free from restraint. 

"I know," she shot back, her breath shallow and filled with a reckless thrill. Rhaenyra shifted in her saddle, the reins slipping from her grasp as she shuffled toward him, closing the gap with a boldness that sent a thrill through the air.

The distance between their faces shrank to barely a foot, her lilac eyes sparkling with mischief. She tilted her head slightly, and in that moment, he could see the tiny flecks of dark purple in her eyes. Her lips curled in a knowing smile, the warmth of her presence enveloped him.

"Rhaenyra" he said breathlessly, he did not know why he said it, all he knew was that her name tumbled from his lips before he could think. 

Her hands slowly reached out, carefully grasping around the chains holding him to the saddle. His breath caught as slowly, carefully she undid the bindings. She looked up at him through her lashes, a smirk playing at her lips as she shuffled even closer. 

"We're free up here" she murmured, her voice sending a chill down his spine. "No rules…no restrictions, the sky is ours Aerion" 

Her hands had fully undone the chains, but one hand remained and lingered on his dark collar. Slowly she raised her warm, soft hand, gently running across his throat. 

"The sky is ours" he echoed breathlessly, Rhaenyras eyes staying locked on his as her grip tightened on his neck. 

"Pār gūrogon ziry" She murmured in High Valyrian, her voice sending a burst of heat down his body, as her thumb caressed his neck. 

'Now take it' 

With an overwhelming rush of desire, he leaned forward, his lips crashing against hers in a desperate, fervent kiss. The taste of her was intoxicating as his longing took over.

Her breath stuttered at the force of his kiss, their mouths pressing together in a dance of passion and need. Her hand, still around his neck, slid up to his dark hair, her fingers tangling in the strands, drawing him even closer. 

They lost themselves in each other's heat.

The world below left forgotten.