Monsters of The North || Rhaenyra Targaryen

Chapter 6

Torrhen had never known peace on the water. 

He was a wolf of Winterfell, he found sanctuary beneath the gods wood, the heart tree's gargantuan shadow falling upon him, its leaves shielding him from the falling snow. He would sooner choose the security of a horses saddle over the rocking of a boat, on the wild waves.

Yet, Laena's funeral brought a certain serenity to Driftmark. Cold and sombre, reeking of grief and sorrow. It clung to the Velaryon family, even to Rhaenyra and his boys as well.

They had been dealt with heavy blows, unimaginable losses and it had rattled them. Luke had taken to clinging to his father's hand, as though if he were to let go Torrhen would disappear. Jace refused to be more than a few steps away from him. Torrhen said nothing about it, merely kept his sons close, especially in the company of those in attendance.

Torrhen glared over at Otto, standing proudly, the Hand's pin plainly displayed on his chest. It made him sick to look at it, wishing more than anything that Lionel had waited to take Harwin home, had not returned to that cursed place.

The pain of grief in his chest had him breathing sharply, Rhaenyra's hand squeezing tightly to his own, the boys wrapped in her arms and held close. 

The family observed in silence as Laena's casket was prepared to be dropped into the sea. Torrhen caught sight of Laenor Velaryon standing with his mother and father, the man looking as though he were in a daze, gazing at his sister's coffin with a blank stare.

Vaemond gave a eulogy, speaking in Valyrian. Torrhen half listened, well versed enough in his wife's language to understand the sentences. He was more focused on the man stood across from him, staring at Rhaenyra.

Daemon.

The years had seemed good to him. He still had that cocky and arrogant gait, though his chopped hair had grown to his shoulders, tied back in his usual preferred style. Daemon's gaze kept drifting from his late wife's coffin to Rhaenyra and Torrhen, pointedly looking at their conjoined hands, at their sons in their grasps.

Torrhen glared harder, Daemon catching the look and smirking slightly before adverting his gaze.

"Stop it." Rhaenyra whispered, lowly. "You're just giving him what he wants."

"He should learn to keep his eyes away from you." Torrhen growled, quietly.

"It had been years, my love." Rhaenyra sighed. "Can't people have the chance to grow and change?"

"An animal's behaviour may change to what benefits them, but they will always revert to their old ways. I'll believe he's changed when I see it." Torrhen replied, "And nobody can change that much."

Rhaenyra hummed, catching Daemon's eye and copying her husband with her own fiery glare at her uncle. She had not completely forgiven him for his actions all those years ago, even if she had married the love of her life, and had three amazing children with him. What Daemon tried that night could have cost her him, could have cost her the life she now has. That would not be easily forgiven. 

The two went back to listening to Vaemond's speech. Torrhen silently caught sight of Alicent's Aegon in his peripheral, the boy blowing an impatient breath and wearing a bored expression. Torrhen coldly glared at the blatant disrespect, Aegon lightly stiffening when he caught the look. 

Torrhen caught Vaemond saying something about Velaryon blood staying true and thick. He caught the insinuation, as many others did. Word had travelled of Laenor having a bastard or two running around. The man had still not been married, so his only sons and heirs were illegitimate. Yet, they would still have a stronger claim than Vaemond did for the title of Lord of The Tides. Clearly, the man was not overly joyed by that.