The Red Dragon
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21. A Feast-1
🕑 Added 2025-05-24 17:11:30 +0000 UTCHigh Tide
“Very well, sister, I agree to all of your demands,” Laenor said in defeat. He should have known there was no winning a battle against his elder sister.
“Good. I will let you know of the other things I need when they come to me,” said Laena, nodding in satisfaction. She looked like some innocent maiden in all this—which was far from the truth.
“Have some mercy, sister. I get the same amount of gold as you every moon. How am I to afford more things than you’ve already enlisted?” Laenor pleaded. But it seemed there was no mercy in this one.
“It was not I who kept secrets from her ‘sister’. You pay for what you sow. And do not think for a moment I have forgotten how you kept silent when Father sought to sell me off to the king.” Laena’s voice carried the anger and hurt Laenor had hoped had lessened. But it hadn’t. Still, Laenor was sure that their father would eventually make it up to her; he always did. Laena was a pearl in Corlys Velaryon’s eyes—there was nothing she wouldn’t get from him when she asked.
“You would be wrong in that, sister. You can ask either Father or Mother—I vehemently opposed his decision. But you know how stubborn he can be. And from what I’ve gathered of Viserys so far, he wouldn’t have accepted the betrothal anyway. He’s learned his lesson not to marry younger women,” said Laenor, not revealing that he wouldn’t have let it happen even if Viserys had wanted it. His sister would marry someone of her choosing—not a man almost as old as their father.
“I will look into it. Now, you may go. I need to get ready for the upcoming feast.” Though Laena said that dismissively, Laenor could see that her ire toward him had slightly lessened. He chuckled at her haughty expression and took his leave.
His sister’s personality had changed greatly over time, especially as her dragon grew in size. The shy, childish girl was gone, replaced by a confident and slightly imperious young woman—someone who knew how to get what she wanted from her family.
Laenor made his way to his own chambers, only a few steps and a corridor away from Laena’s. Entering, he lay down on his bed and sighed heavily.
Now to feast… and after that, war.
Laenor intended to learn as much as he could from this war. His lips quirked upward—learning in war—if someone heard his thoughts, they’d think he was mad. With thoughts of what might come drifting through his mind, his eyes grew groggy, and his breath slowed.
It was the knocking on his door that roused him. Laenor yawned and rubbed the sleep from his eyes as Aleria entered with a few servants, informing him that the feast would commence in an hour. Laenor glanced at the window and, seeing the sun’s position, realized he needed to get ready quickly before his lady mother came to reprimand him for being lazy and undisciplined.
Half an hour later, Laenor was dressed in his sea-green doublet with black trousers and a Valyrian steel dagger fastened at his belt. After one last glance in the mirror, he nodded at his reflection and made his way toward the great hall of High Tide. Feasts were held there unless they involved lords and ladies from three or more kingdoms.
The large doors of the hall were wide open, with long tables and dining arrangements set up beside them. Laenor saw numerous servants placing dishes and fussing over every detail in a mad rush.
But it wasn’t the servants who caught his eye.
It was the large pots—each nearly five feet tall—positioned in the corners. Laenor looked around. Yes, there were more than six of them. Not just in corners either. It didn’t take much for him to guess what those pots contained—or who had ordered them to be placed.
So, his father wanted to be open about his ability to his household.
Well, Laenor had no problem with that. He’d planned to use it in front of everyone in the war anyway.
Laenor soon walked toward three silver-haired boys chatting and laughing, wine glasses in hand. All of them bore the distinct Valyrian look. They were Velaryons, though the line was so distant Laenor had only met them a few times in his life. Still, he remembered their names, and since they were the only ones in the hall for now, he figured he might as well talk with them.
“Daemion, Vaegon, Aerys. I hope you three have fulfilled your dreams of becoming knights—protecting fair maidens from falling for someone as pretty as me,” Laenor said with a laugh, patting Daemion on the back. The boys smiled brightly, clearly pleased he remembered their names, and greeted him with genuine warmth, launching into tales of their adventures.
Laenor laughed and pretended to listen with great interest.
They were in the middle of conversation when Vaemond Velaryon, Laenor’s tutor in arms, interrupted and told him to join his parents, who had already arrived and taken their seats at the high table. Bidding farewell to the three newly made knights, Laenor joined Vaemond as they walked leisurely through the growing crowd.
“Lord Corlys was righteously furious when he returned from the Stepstones. And now I see such joy on his face—joy I didn’t even see when this keep, High Tide, was first completed,” said Vaemond, nodding and smiling at someone in the crowd, though Laenor could tell his focus remained on their conversation.
“It surprises and excites me more than I dare say. From a young age, I’ve seen him pour his very being into making this keep a worthy seat for House Velaryon—one from which his legacy would rule the tides as wealthy and influential lords, second only to the House of the Dragon,” Vaemond continued. “Now he’s smiling like a man who has gotten everything he ever wanted. Care to tell me what magic you’ve done now, Laenor?”
“You’ll know soon enough. And I can already see you preening like a peacock once everything is revealed,” Laenor said, amusement dancing in his eyes.
“It’s about our Velaryon lineage,” Vaemond guessed, nodding to himself. It was no secret that among all the Velaryons, Vaemond might be the proudest of their bloodline. There was even a rumor he gave thanks to the Seven every day for being born a Velaryon—though it had never been confirmed.
“Yes,” was all he got from Laenor before they reached the high table. With a few steps, Laenor took his seat between his father and Laena. To his father’s left sat Laenor’s mother, her eyes scanning the arrangements, quick to reprimand the household and correct any mishaps she spotted.
His father, meanwhile, was grinning like a loon and looked positively giddy.
Laenor shook his head. “I was going to tell you all about my other abilities related to the sea… but seeing you like this, I think I’d better stop now—before you hurt yourself from smiling too much,” he said, mirth twinkling in his eyes.
Both his parents turned toward him instantly, wide-eyed.
“There are more?” his mother asked.
“Yes, you both took your leave in haste before I could reveal everything. And Laena’s absence also clouded my thoughts,” Laenor said, taking a glass of water and sipping from it.
“What more could there be? Tell me this instant,” his father said, all too eager to hear.
“Maybe Laenor is right. Corlys, control yourself. Ever since we returned from the shore, I haven’t seen you without a smile on your face. It doesn’t suit you. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I miss the old Corlys—the silent one, always judging everyone with his eyes,” said Laenor’s mother, mock concern gleaming in her eyes.
“Oh, spare me, Rhaenys. You don’t know how I feel right now. And words couldn’t describe it, even if I tried. Now, son, torture me no more and tell me—how else have the gods been generous to House Velaryon?” The smile remained fixed on his father’s face, and Laenor could see Laena’s impatient frown as she leaned forward, clearly intrigued.
“Very well. Let no one say that Laenor Velaryon lacks mercy,” Laenor said dramatically, in a voice loud enough for only his family to hear. Laena and his father rolled their eyes in unison.
“All right, all right. These abilities may not match my control over water, but they are still quite useful—and diverse. Let’s begin with breathing underwater, which means I can never drown again. Then, I can talk to aquatic life—fish and the like. Most of them obey me as if I were their lord, though not all. Some even try to eat me if I speak to them.
“Another ability—I can control ships mentally and never lose my way at sea. I will always know where to go, no more hugging the coast. Oh! And being submerged in water heals me faster. Minor wounds close instantly when I enter a water body. Hmm… I think that’s all.”
The three of them stared at him with varying expressions. His mother watched with quiet awe, a woman who had come to expect the extraordinary from her son. His father, who had been smiling like a loon earlier, now looked like a giddy child with a new toy. He thinks I’m the best son alive, Laenor mused. Laena, meanwhile, wore a look of shock and wonder, her mouth slightly agape.
