Lady Laena Velaryon

Before the wedding feast, an exchange of gifts took place between the members of the royal family in the King’s chambers. Viserys had already bestowed lands, titles, and coats of arms upon his brothers , but to his daughter, he gave the entirety of the late Queen Aemma’s jewelry casket, save perhaps for her signet ring, which he wore upon his right pinky. How Queen Alicent endured such a thing was utterly beyond Laena’s understanding; grief was one thing, but to insult one’s current wife daily by constantly reminding her of her predecessor! It was either folly or cruelty, and the gods knew which of those was the better.

The Velaryons presented the Princess with silver bracelets set with Asshai’i black amethysts, while the Queen gave her a copy of Barth’s Unnatural History of Dragons—the very same one she used to read to the Old King Jaehaerys. It was a strange choice, yet her friend seemed moved and even exchanged kisses with her stepmother as in days of old. Aegon, when Daemon and Rhaenyra turned to him in expectation, laughed and said:

“My gift awaits you in the caves beneath the Dragonmont. How soon you receive it depends solely upon the two of you.”

The King of the Stepstones himself made a bolder gift to his queen, placing a dragonbone dagger into her hand.

“I shall do everything to ensure you never have to put it to use, Nyra, but I shall be more at ease if it is always with you.”

While Rhaenyra tested the sharpness of the blade, Aegon walked around the table.

“The Cannibal served not only you, my brother,” he remarked and pushed a voluminous leather bundle toward Laena. “Go on, undo it.”

The girl looked at her husband with bewilderment but nevertheless pulled the cord, and the bundle unfurled of its own accord. In the candlelight, black-and-green dragon scales shimmered, sewn onto… dragon hide?

“A flight suit,” Aegon explained. “To be sure, it is not a solid piece of hide from the breast or back; you would not be able to carry such a weight. It is mostly wing membranes—they are thin enough for skinners to work with, yet durable enough not to wear through. I ordered small scales to be used for the bodice, shoulders, and back—they are no less durable than steel plate, but far lighter.”

A suit of dragon hide… Laena cautiously touched the dark-grey sleeve; it proved unexpectedly soft, rough to the touch, and seemingly warm, as if it still held the heat of the dragon’s body. Her father looked at the gift with some confusion, while her mother and Rhaenyra watched with unconcealed envy.

“May I?..” Laena began timidly.

“Of course.”

Father, brother, husband, and both brothers-in-law were immediately ushered into the adjoining room, and the girl quickly shed her wedding gown to don the flight suit. Dragon hide, though it lacked sensitivity, strangely felt like her own skin; in the suit, she felt neither hot nor cold. When the men returned, they confirmed it suited her remarkably well.

“Marvelous, it fits perfectly! Confess, where did you obtain my measurements?”

Aegon feigned a sheepish look and scratched the tip of his nose with a long finger.

“Oh, I had to organize a whole conspiracy.”

“Indeed… And which of the maids betrayed me?”

“I have no idea,” the Prince shrugged. “I wrote to Lady Jocelyn. She agreed to help, but upon the condition that, in addition, I give you a ‘normal’ gift.”

The grandmother, sitting in an armchair, nodded in agreement.

“So that is not all?”

“No, naturally.”

With those words, he signaled to his sworn shield, and Ser Dennis placed a heavy casket upon the table. Aegon began to tinker with the lock, starting his tale from afar.

“I confess, I had to rack my brain quite a bit over a ‘normal’ gift. A horse? One does not look at horses after a dragon. Ships? Silks? Rarities? All that is a trifle for the daughter of the great Sea Snake, is it not? But in my treasury—the one I received from Braavos in gratitude for the fall of Lorath, and the one I found in Mantarys—there was still something that could rival Lord Corlys’s gifts”.

“I am quite at a loss,” her father snorted.

At last, something clicked several times and went silent; the Prince stepped aside with a satisfied air and made an inviting gesture. Laena approached the casket and threw back the unexpectedly heavy lid; the interior of the box was lined with white velvet, meant to emphasize its contents.

Upon the velvet lay a strange construction of metal that might have been taken for a gorget were it not as delicate as lace. Small whorls of dull-grey metal with a shimmering luster formed a pattern of either tongues of flame or scales. The filigree work was encrusted with small amethysts—not the Asshai’i kind, but ordinary ones, though there were many of them. In every place where two metal arches met, sat a small violet eye, almost the same as her own. The necklace, if it could even be called that, had a gorget and was meant to descend onto the breast.

“Curses, it is Valyrian steel!” Laenor could not restrain his exclamation.

“The very same,” Aegon nodded. “I found this wondrous thing in Mantarys. There was little time for scrutiny then—we were leaving the city in a great hurry—so I only examined all the finds upon Dragonstone. I decided to hold onto this gorget for myself, and as it turns out, I did not choose wrongly.”

“It must be dreadfully heavy,” Alicent remarked, eyeing the gift from behind the King’s back.

“Not at all. There is more air in it than steel, and it can easily be held with two hands. Try it, my wife, but be careful.”

Laena obediently reached into the casket and lifted the relic of the past, the glory of Valyria’s former days, from its bed. From the gorget, two hairpins fell onto the velvet one after the other; she had not noticed them at first. Their pommels were decorated with larger amethysts.

“It is lighter than a babe,” Laena marveled.

And then her gaze fell upon the last dark patch on the white lining of the casket. Beneath the necklace lay a small dagger, likewise of Valyrian steel.

“Is that from Mantarys as well?”

“No, the blade was a gift to me in Braavos, and the hilt is made of Cannibal’s bone. Well? What say you?”

Laena turned to her father and said:

“Forgive me, Papa, you have been put to shame.”

“Two gifts for a true dragon-blooded lady,” the King approved.

“House Velaryon hath an answer,” her father spoke with dignity. “Besides the dowry, we present Prince Aegon with that which formerly belonged to House Targaryen.”

With these words, he pushed forward a box, much smaller than the casket with the Valyrian necklace, and lifted the lid himself. Upon a black velvet lining lay a pair of buckles—two large pieces of amber in a silver setting. Each of the stones possessed a flaw that the jewelers had turned into a unique feature, a distinctive mark of the set. A vertical crack running through the amber made it resemble an eye.

“Dragon’s Eyes?” Aegon clarified, leaning forward slightly.

“Yes,” the grandmother nodded. “A gift from Argella Durrandon to Queen Rhaenys. From her, they went to Queen Alyssa, who returned them to the Baratheons upon her second marriage. I ceased to wear them after the death of my Aemon, and Rhaenys does not care much for jewelry anyway.”

“Untrue,” her mother grimaced. “We simply have different tastes.”

In the eyes of the dowager Lady Jocelyn, her daughter never looked enough like a “lady.” The imitation of Queen Visenya’s image might have been forgiven in a young woman, but not at seven-and-thirty! However much Laena loved her grandmother, the endless grumbling and lessons were wearying, especially now that she had grown and the lessons were directed at her.

“That is not all,” her father spoke a little louder, overriding the women’s bickering. “Knowing your interests, Prince, I thought you might appreciate another shard of Old Valyria.”

A chest was pushed forward, so massive that it could not be lifted onto the table. Beneath a carved lid, in which motifs of the far East could be discerned, an obsidian idol was hidden. Laena had seen it among her father’s treasures but had not thought he would decide to part with it. The statue of a man was a foot high but occupied a great deal of space. From each wrist, elbow, shoulder, ankle, and knee grew a pair of dragon wings. The man seemed both wrapped in a cocoon and soaring, as if in flight.

“Oh,” the stunned Aegon could only exhale.

“I found it on Leng. How it came to be there only the gods know. My skipper deemed it a forgery, but he was a Summer Islander, and I can still tell Valyrian work from a crude imitation.”

“You are right, it is an original, and an old one at that. I have seen such… in Braavos.”

“So, what is it?” the Queen superstitiously clutched the Seven-Pointed Star hanging from her neck.

“Merely a stone, Your Grace,” the grandmother reassured her, likely understanding how she felt.

“An image of a god,” Aegon deigned to explain, without taking his eyes off it. “My thanks, my lord. It is indeed a worthy answer.”

The self-satisfied smile that spread across her father’s face could have lit up even the Great Hall without any candles. The Sea Snake loved to make grand gestures and impress people, especially those who could rival him in such displays. Aegon, as it turned out, could.

Fitting words of gratitude were spoken, and the servants carried out the newly presented gifts. Very little time remained before the feast, and there was still the preparation and a change of attire to attend to!

In the chambers allotted to her, maids in identical red dresses had already prepared a hot bath for her; at High Tide on Driftmark, Laena could spend half a day in the bathing rooms, moving from heated pools to the refreshing sea and back, but however much she wished to linger in the water, the day was far from over. The prompt girls helped her dry off and set to work on her evening attire.

Alas, a choice had to be made between her husband’s two gifts: however much she wished to don the flight suit again, it was hardly a good idea. She had to squeeze into another white gown; obsidian beads on the bodice formed the shape of spread dragon wings, while black satin peeked from the slits of the skirt. The choice of jewelry had to be reconsidered: the Valyrian steel lace simply drew the eye. The maids, however, could not master the necklace’s clasps and began to panic quietly—she had to snap at them:

“Leave it! Fetch Prince Aegon if you cannot manage it!” It would be amusing if he doesn’t know what to do with it either, she thought.

Her spouse did not keep her waiting long. Garbed in a black-and-white tunic himself, in the stealthily approaching twilight of the autumn evening, he seemed for a moment ethereal. Wondrous.

“Am I permitted to enter your boudoir before nightfall?” the Prince inquired at the door with a light smirk.

“Does that truly concern you?”

“No,” he chuckled.

“Then help me put this on.”

Tossing both ends of his infinitely long scarlet belt over his shoulders, he turned the massive ornament over and quickly sorted out the catches. Three quiet clicks—and the necklace opened like a shell. Aegon lifted it as if it weighed nothing and commanded:

“Lift your hair.”

Laena hastily wound her mass of hair onto one of the pins. The Prince carefully brought the necklace forward and settled it upon her breast. The lower whorls descended below her collarbones, almost entirely covering the neckline of the gown. Looking in the mirror, the girl could not help but admit it looked simply magnificent, and the focused Aegon, adjusting his own gift upon her shoulders, looked charming—especially when Laena noticed a predatory, dragon-like expression upon his face. A husband was supposed to desire his wife, but realizing it was pleasant.

Suddenly, at the very base of her skull, right below the hairline, she felt the touch of hot lips.

“Forgive me, I could not restrain myself,” Aegon smiled slyly and only then clicked the final clasp. Laena suppressed a pleasant shiver and reminded him:

“We shall be late for the feast.”

“They will not start without us,” he snorted and immediately kissed her temple. “Though I am not entirely ready myself.”

“Your brother shall say again that he is forced to wait for us.”

“He is well-accustomed to it.”

—————

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