Chaos within the Greens

Chapter 8

It had been a little over three years since Laena Velaryon was laid to rest. But so much has happened starting from then till now. Beginning only mere hours after her casket was plunged into the sea. When, out of the three, the two important belongings of her were claimed by someone else.

Strange, how within a flicker of eyes, they belonged to another.

Unbeknownst to all back then, her husband— Daemon Targaryen, succumbed to the arms of the woman he always longed for. His niece, Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen. Whom he fucked on the beach, on the evening of his wife's funeral. While his nephew claimed her dragon— Vhagar and flew overhead.

Even if the rouge Prince's tryst with his niece did not come to light right away, however, the younger Prince's actions came to be known only moments after it transpired. Bringing in rippling effects of its own. The boy lost an eye, in the fight that took place just as he dismounted his dragon and was confronted by his nephews and cousins. That subsequently led to bigger brawl between his mother and his half sister where everyone kept shifting the blame on one another.

Resulting in, causing Laena Velaryon to be left forgotten on the night of her own funeral like someone of irrelevance. Even the following day the deceased could not be remembered, as the King's youngest daughter caused another ruckus when she pushed her betrothed down the stairs to seek revenge for her brother's loss of eye. Predictably, her action led to another chaos. And like its predecessor from the night before, this also upheld the reputation being just as dramatic.

Sadly though, both these situations were handled very poorly by King Viserys. Blinded by his favouritism towards his eldest and youngest the man only delivered unjust verdicts to the rest.

The bystanders simply stood as witness to observe how King Viserys - the peaceful with his own hands foolishly tore apart his own house.

Dividing the house of the Dragon into two.

But that fact remained unbeknownst to all then. Even if it was no hard puzzle to solve.

The same evening house Targaryen and house Velaryon sat down once more to discuss the final fate of Aemma Targaryen and Lucerys Velaryon's betrothal.

As expected, it was no easy decision. Viserys may have declared the end of their betrothal in the heat of his emotions. However, when the little boy woke up and begged to differ, going as far as to offering an eye to the maimed Prince, the situation took a different turn. Leaving the King, the Queen and Princess Rhaenyra in a confused state, unable to decide what to be done.

Otto Hightower kept pushing for the King to stay intact in his decision, reasoning why the end of the betrothal is best for both families. Whilst Lord Corlys, backed by his son Ser Laenor argued against it. Princess Rhaenys just sat there, silently fuming. It was her daughter's funeral! A fact almost everyone seemed to have forgotten. Her Laena should be remembered and talked about! Her grand-daughters should be comforted, their futures should be discussed. But no! Everyone was too busy discussing fate of Rhaenyra's bastard and the King's litter. And what actually infuriated Rhaenys most was how deeply her husband was involved in this matter that served them no purpose. What good would it do to house Velaryon if Aemma Targaryen is wedded to Lucerys? The boy is no true Velaryon. Only Rhaenyra would benefit from this union as it would help her solidify her bastards before the court if house Velaryon ever drops them.

The King ultimately sided with his Hand. Deciding to stick to his earlier decision. But he reassured Rhaenyra that her son would be free to pursue Aemma once they've grown. If the two find themselves fancying each other then, he would have them wed immediately.

Although dissatisfied, Rhaenyra was out of option but to agree. Her husband gave no opinion but his father Lord Corlys was left deeply unsatisfied and he made no attempt to hide it. Seated opposite to Corlys, Ser Otto was barely able to contain the victorious smirk that was desperately itching to come to display. The victory was finally his.