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asherbakugou · 7 months ago

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The Deal of Gods and Humans

Prince Laenor of House Velaryon sat in a plush velvet chair within his wife's small study, sipping sour Arbor Gold from a golden chalice in silence as he watched Crown Princess Rhaenyra of House Targaryen stare out the window of her study. The light highlighted the features of her youth, reminding him of the heavy burden that had been placed upon his shoulders and was now shared between them. She was a little girl, still, with the weight of a Kingdom upon her shoulders and yet she stood with the strength of a dragon against the lit towers aiming to bring her crashing down.

"I'm sorry," Laenor murmured, tearing his wife from her thoughts. "If only the Gods had not made like this. If only they had made me like my father or Prince Daemon then maybe–"

"Stay your tongue!" Rhaenyra ordered, sharply. She whirled around, pale grey skirts swirling along her legs as she stalked towards him. "Had the Gods not made you this way then I would never have agreed to this marriage, no matter that my inheritance would be stripped away. I agreed to take you as my husband because I can trust you within this nest of vipers my home has become. You are my husband and my future King Consort, the man who shall aid my rule and support me."

Laenor gave a bitter, self-deprecating laugh, "I am the husband that cannot give his wife heirs. The man that cannot see a woman for the beauty she is, and feels no lust for the pleasures others speak of."

"We shall figure something out. It will just take time."

"What if you took a paramour? He could give you children that I could claim as mine. They would be mine in name and that is all that matters."

"And if they resembled any but me? Or you? They would be called bastards even if they were an exact copy of Rodrick Arryn or Jocelyn Baratheon as long as they did not have the Valyrian coloring. The Queen and her supporters would make our lives a living hell if she even had an inkling that they were bastards. Even now, she seeks to undermine me."

"I thought the wedding was her only move," Laenor stated, sitting up. Worry shone in his grey-purple eyes. They might not be in love as other matches were but they were partners.

"No. Every day she gathers the Ladies of the Keep for tea and speaks behind my back, spreading rumors of my virtue, of your taste in men, of how I am a heathen whore unfit to be the Heir to the Iron Throne," Rhaenyra sneered, sitting down in the weirwood chair behind her desk. A present from Lady Jeyne Arryn and Lady Amanda Arryn for her wedding.

"She dares speak ill of the Crown Princess? And none stop her or bring her words to the King or you, yourself?"

"Why would they? Each of them come from the Reach or Westerlands, supporters of her son as Heir and future King."

"Then we must dispel the rumors," Laenor stated, reaching into his doublet. He pulled out a letter, setting it on the desk between them. "My dear Laena has sent us a letter. She reminds me of the tales my father used to tell us before bed. Of Sea Serpents, Giants, Gods . . . and Demigods."

"Demigods?" Rhaenyra whispered, remembering the tales Daemon had once told her. "Children of both God and Man. What do those tales have to do with our problems?"

"For years we have hid how we worship the Fourteen Flames, let those of the Seven deem our culture as heathenistic and disrespectful. I believe she means for us to seek out our true Gods and ask for their help."

"They are Gods, Laenor. What could we possibly give them in return for three children?"

"Anything they wish. Rhaenyra if you wish to be Queen this might be our only option. We need trueborn heirs and who better than the Gods that shaped us and gave us dragons?"

"The same Gods who allowed hundreds of thousands of people be wiped by the Doom. The ones who allow us to be ridiculed and shamed even as Kings, Queens, and Heirs of Valyrian Houses. The only ones left of Old Valyria, might I add," Rhaenyra snapped, glaring.

Laenor did not let her flames deter him. "And what other option do we have? Let Prince Aegon be named Heir because you have no children to rule after you?"

Rhaenyra snarled, teeth baring as Syrax sang within her soul, black teeth bared as flamed gathered in her chest. "Watch yourself husband. I could take that as treason."

"But I speak the truth," Laenor stated, Seasmoke humming in the back of his mind, tail swishing across the dusty ground of his cave. "You said we would need trueborn children and I have given you a suggestion. It is either this, your give birth to bastards after taking a paranour, or remain childless and have your titles taken. Take your pick, wife."

Charged silence fell within the study as the two dragons stared each other down. Eventually, Rhaenyra acquiesced.

"Fine. In two days time we travel to Dragonstone. We will call it a honeymoon of sorts, as if we seek alone time for . . . things. The Temple of the Fourteen will hear our prayers and we shall see if the Gods will answer."

"Then it is decided."

—Temple of the Fourteen—

The Temple of the Fourteen was almost hidden behind Castle Dragonstone, even with how large it was. The rotunda had 14 stained glass windows, each displaying the symbol of one of the 14 Gods or Godesses sitting above the corrosponding statue. Made entirely out of black dragonglass with runes carved in and filled with Valyrian steel, the Temple was truly of Valyrian make and ancestry.

Over the two days planning their week long trip to the Isle of Dragonstone, they had argued over which statue to pray too, eventually agreeing upon the Goddess Meleys. She ruled over fertility, love, sexuality, mothers, and childbirth, so they had come to the realization that she would be a better fit than Arrax or Aegerax.

"It's beautiful," Laenor murmured, High Valyrian rolling of his tongue with an Essosi lilt that Lord Corlys and his sister both had. It brought a heat to Rhaenyra whenever she heard it even if she preffered how it sounded when Daemon spoke.

"It is." Rhaenyra and Laenor came to a stop before the white dragonglass statue of Meleys. Stood in a patch of dirt, a large myrtle tree had grown alongside her, manipulated to lean over her seemingly sheltering the Goddess who wore a floor length dress with long slits up the side leaving her most of her legs and bare feet exposed.

Held in her left hand was a mirror, as pearls draped across the exposed cut of her shoulders while long sleeves fell around her forearms. Perched upon her shoulder was a dove while a peacock stood at her side, long beautifull feathers carved and painted in detail.

"Do you remember the prayer?" Laenor asked as they both stared up into the gentle features carved into the statue.

"I have not had the time to forget it," Rhaenyra murmured dryly, unsure of if she should speak normally. Together they kneeled, bowing before the Goddess' statue.

"O' Meleys, O' Queen of the Gods, Goddess of Love, Goddess of Fertility, Goddess of Motherhood, Goddess of Childbirth, we seek your aid. As Heir to the Iron Throne and Heir to Driftmark, we ask you to provide us with heirs and a spare. To allow us to further our bloodlines, O' Queen of the Gods. Name a price and we shall pay it for three children borne of our blood."

The pyre that stood to her right suddenly lit with pale pink-whire fire, startling both of them. So focused they were, neither saw the statue move until she spoke, voice soft but firm, loving and kind.

"Greetings, Princess Rhaenyra, Chosen Heir. Greetings, Prince Laenor, Chosen Guardian. I have been awaiting your call for many moons."

Neither could find it within themselves to speak, staring at the talking statue with awe and fear in equal parts.

"Be not afraid. Your call has been anticipated and awaited eagerly." Her soft look melted to something sharp and protective. "The Promised Heir shall come from your blood, Rhaenyra, but due to your father's folly, in one line of fate they fall and the world is taken in the Long Night. No one is left, no dragons, no people, no wildlings. Only wights. To make sure this never comes to pass We, the Fourteen Flames, the Seven-Who-Are-One, and the Elder Gods have decided to intervene. We have decided to interfere with fate itself to make sure our favored survive and fight back the Long Night."

"Us? But my father said– when he told me of the prophecy . . ."

"Tessarion gave the prophecy to Aegon in the hopes that he would unite Westeros to prepare them for the Long Night. But after making them kneel he in turn kneeled for the Seven-Who-Are-One who have no control over any family of Valyrian Blood. We are not the only the ones that have been disrespected or forgotten.

"The supposed followers of the Seven have perverted and twisted the words of the Seven-Who-Are-One to fit their agendas, destroying the faith that once was. The Elder Gods are slowly being forgotten as we are, and with fewer and fewer worshipping us, we are dying."

"Dying?" Laenor asked, horrified. Every story ever told spoke of how a God could not be killed.

"Not in the way you understand but yes. Magic is being forcibly taken from your world, one of the few weapons that would secure your future. But we believe we have a way for this world to survive. Do you accept the responsibility, Rhaenyra Targaryen, Laenor Velaryon?"

They both hesitated, but looking upon her face, one that looked similar to Aemma's in Rhaenyra's eyes and one that looked sinilar to Rhaenys' for Laenor and they made their decision.

"We accept this responsibility, My Queen."

She smiled softly.

"From us you will be given 14 children, born of each of us with our favor to save the Targaryen, Velaryon, Celtigar, and Stark lines. The Seven-Who-Are-One and the Elder Gods have decided that their gifts will be given in secret to aid you. But I have another gift to offer you." Meleys' smile grew wider. "Would you like to hear the names of your children and who they are the child of?"

"Yes! Please, My Queen," Rhaenyra added, blushing fiercly at the outburst. While afraid to have so many children, a part of her was curious to know her future.

"The First. Son of Arrax, King of the Gods, Jacaerys Targaryen."

"The Second. Daughter of Tyraxes, Goddess of Peace. Alyssa Velaryon."

"The Third. Son of Caraxes, God of the Seas. Lucerys Velaryon."

"The Fourth. Son of Vhagar, Goddess of War. Maegor Velaryon."

"The Fifth. Daughter of Vermax, God of Travel. Visenya Velaryon."

"The Sixth. Son of Aegerax, God of Creation. Aerion Velaryon."

"The Seventh. Daughter of Tessarion, Goddess of Dreams. Daenys Velaryon."

"The Eighth. Daughter of myself, Goddess of Love. Aemma Velaryon."

"The Ninth. Son of Syrax, Goddess of Chaos. Saeryn Velaryon."

"The Tenth. Daughter of Meraxes, Goddess of the Sky. Rhaella Velaryon."

"The Eleventh. Son of Gaelithox, God of the Sun. Aegon Velaryon."

"The Twelfth. Son of Vermithor, God of Smiths. Aemon Velaryon."

"The Thirteenth. Daughter of Shrykos, Goddess of Beginnings. Valaena Velaryon."

"The Fourteenth. Son of Balerion, God of the Underworld. Baelon Velaryon."

"Tonight Tessarion shall visit you to give you the instructions on how to allow us to give you children. Be ready. Good luck."

The statue straightened back into her precious position and fell still, allowing complete silence to fall within the Temple.

"Well," Laenor began, mumbling. "I believe we should head to the Keep, should we not? A drink or two might help."

"I agree." With that the two retreated back to the castle to talk about what had just happened, and drink enough wine to help settle their nerves before Tessarion came to visit.

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