A/N: A thanks to mrsean22 over on Spacebattles for pointing out some inconsistencies in the last chapter. Hopefully this helps. Other points, both from them and others, will be addressed as the story goes on.

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Laenor's arm is heavy. Vissie's head rests against the crook of his elbow, eyes closed and breathing even. In her sleep, Laenor takes time to observe her. Her eyebrows are furrowed, even as she rests, and her fists are clenching his tunic tightly. She's laying on her side, with her left cheek facing up, so her scar is visible. Her father swallows hard at the sight of it.

My poor little dragon, he thinks, the gods are cruel to have you endure so much pain at so young an age.

He presses a light kiss to her forehead.

"Is she asleep?" a voice asks. He recognizes it to be Rhaenyra's. He shifts to look at her.

"Aye."

His wife's eyes move to their daughter. She recoils at the sight of her. "I need to speak with you," she says, eyes glued to Vissie. "Don't wake her up."

Pulling himself from his daughter's grip, he gently puts a pillow in his place. Then, careful to keep his steps measured, he makes his way to Rhaenyra.

She takes his arm in hers, but says nothing.

They walk quietly, and he can sense her tension. He feels it in the way her arm is stiff, in the way she strides furiously; in the way her light amethyst eyes, the same color as Vissie's, are narrowed, in the way her jaw is clenched so hard he swears he can hear her teeth cracking.

They arrive at her chambers and Rhaenyra throws open the door. The hinges creak and Laenor eyes her warily.

"Now will you tell me what this is all about?" he asks. His wife pours herself a goblet of wine.

"The Hightower bitch is making her move. She's demanding our children be punished for chasing after Aemond." She hisses out the words bitterly, and Laenor assesses how much he values his life in the moment.

He comes to a decision.

"Rhaenyra," he says, "They do need to be punished. They snuck out in the middle of the night to stop their uncle from claiming his birthright. They put themselves in danger. And to boot, Luke drew a dagger on Aemond. If Vissie had not thrown herself in its way, can you imagine what would have happened? The Greens will already use this to their advantage-" and how it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth to think of their children with politics in mind- "If Vissie had not been fast enough, things could have been far, far worse."

Rhaenyra scowls. "I will not punish Luke for swinging at Aemond. I will not punish my children for standing against Alicent's."

"Listen to yourself!" Laenor barks, grabbing hold of her shoulders. She blinks in surprise. "Seven hells! Putting aside politics for a moment, if you do not punish them, they'll continue to act recklessly and foolishly! One day, they may suffer the ultimate consequence for that. Do you want that?"

"Of course not!" she snaps. "And you know I was just as enraged by their actions as you!"

"Then why do you not put your foot down? Do you truly hate Alicent so much?"

Rhaenyra goes rigid in his grasp and her hands reach out to snatch at his forearms, and he knows he has erred. "Do not," she says quietly, and now it is her holding him. "Do not try to invalidate my hatred of that woman. Never."

"Rh-"

The look on her face stops Laenor in his tracks. "Do you know what it was like, growing up in thar madhouse?" she continues. "The Red Keep, full of backstabbers and betrayers, lickspittles and sycophants? That bitch played me for a fool. She pretended she was better than all the others, and I, in my youthful naivety, believed her. She promised me she would be my new mother, and I accepted her. We sewed together, went hawking together, read together. She helped me with my studies and comforted me when I was upset, and I allowed myself to love her. And then Aegon was born, and she showed her true colors. Suddenly, she had no time for me. She tried to convince my father to strip away my right to the throne, to give it to her precious new son, and I became an inconvenience, an enemy. I was left in the Red Keep, stranded with my only allies being my father, who was too besotted with his new wife to do a thing, and Uncle Daemon, who was off at war. I was left looking for poison in my cups and daggers in the dark and a slash in my saddles for the rest of my childhood all the way to adulthood."

Rhaenyra's grip is vice-like and pain blooms across Laenor's skin, but that's nothing compared to how his heart bleeds for her. Here in this moment, he wants nothing more than to offer her comfort. And to kill Alicent Hightower, he thinks darkly.

"I'm sorry," he says, kindly, gently. "I didn't mean to dredge up old memories. Nor did I mean to say your feelings didn't matter. I was only worried for the children."

At his words, all the furious energy in his wife leaves her. She sags against him, suddenly devoid of her strength, and blows out a harsh sigh. "You are right, as much as I loathe to admit it," she mumbles, her cheek pressed against his chest. "None of my heirs can afford to grow up fools, and so I cannot allow them to get away with everything. And I would rather have them resent me this once then have them adore me all the way unto their untimely deaths."

"Then you will accept any punishment the King gives?"

She twitches. "Yes. And if he gives none, then I shall punish them myself."

"That is no easy thing to do, given your situation," Laenor says. He smiles down at her, something warm filling his chest. It takes him a moment to realize it is pride. He doesn't tell her he is proud- she hates anything that could be perceived as talking down to, after all, but he thinks she senses it all the same.

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For a moment, when Vissie had been at the Stranger's door and Luke and Joff had been inconsolable, Alicent Hightower had not seemed so bad. Laenor had seen the pitying look she'd given his sons and thought that perhaps she was not so bad after all.

Now, staring at her from across the table, he wants to strangle her.

He wants to wrap his hands around her neck until her face goes white and she feels the terror Rhaenyra grew up with. He wants to hurt her for what she has done. For how she has damaged Rhaenyra, for how she continues to push Aegon's claim to the throne, for how she demands retribution for the actions of his children. Even if he agrees on the last thing, at least with the fact that they should not get off free, he bristles at the thought of their misfortune being because of her.

Rhaenyra's hand is in his own, her grip tight, and he takes comfort in the warmth of it.

"You all know why we are gathered here," King Viserys says gruffly. "So let's just get this out of the way. Princess Visenya, Prince Lucerys, and Prince Joffrey, my heir's children, snuck out from the castle a sennight ago in an attempt to try and stop my son, Prince Aemond, from claiming a dragon. This led to an altercation after my son repeated a wicked rumor, which resulted in the maiming of Visenya when she leapt in front of her uncle to block the dagger her brother, Lucerys, had aimed at Aemond. My Queen wishes for my grandchildren to be punished for their actions. I will give my heir the chance to refute this. Others may argue as well."

It seems that Alicent's sympathy towards his children has vanished now. Mayhaps she's finally remembered just who Luke had been aiming for when he'd leapt forth with his dagger. I am surprised the sympathy lasted this long to begin with, knowing what I do now.

Rhaenyra straightens in her seat and her hand leaves Laenor's as she smooths her skirts. He is aware that every gaze in the room is pinned onto her in this moment. "I agree with the Queen's words, Father" she says, a false smile plastered onto her face. It grows sharper as courtiers murmur in surprise. He hides a smirk. "My children acted recklessly and foolishly. Sneaking out in the middle of the night, trying to stop their uncle from claiming a mount, not bothering to bring their dragons, or at least Vhagar, to keep them safe- these were all decisions which were beneath them."

"And what of the attempted maiming of my son, your brother, over a few words?" Alicent Hightower demands. "Does that matter not a whit to you?"

Rhaenyra's smile freezes. Laenor frowns.

"Luke is a boy of five name days," he protests, "He could not have known what he was doing. 'Attempted maiming' is a rather harsh judgement to pass."

If looks could kill, he would be dead a thousand times over.

"That does not change the fact," the Queen bites out, "That he could have grievously harmed my son. I demand that the same he tried to do to Aemond be done to him."

Laenor half-rises from his seat, teeth already bared, rage burning through him, before Father's hand keeps him in place. He struggles for a moment longer, but he sends him a sharp look, and hisses at him to trust him. Thank the Seven the children are not here to witness this.

"The boy has suffered plenty already," Father interjects. "He will have to live with what he's done to his sister for the rest of his life, and he adores that girl. His blow did not land besides."

"And I wonder what kind of heart it takes," Mother says smoothly, "For one to demand another child's disfigurement in the wake of all that has happened." Mutters break out again and Alicent Hightower's cheeks go an angry shade of red. Laenor knows they have her here. She cannot continue advocating for such a thing, not if she wants to keep face.

Silently, he thanks the King for choosing to resolve this issue publicly. If they can cast the Queen and her Greens in a bad light, if they can make her come across as cold and ruthless, it can only help Rhaenyra. As if sensing his thoughts, his goodfather's eyes narrow.

"Enough," King Viserys says. He does not raise his voice, but everyone quiets. "Aemond should not have snuck out in the middle of the night, nor should he have repeated vile rumors meant to slander my heir. For that, he shall be restricted from flying for a moon and a half. The same goes for Visenya. As Lucerys, and Joffrey cannot yet ride Arrax and Tyraxes, they will be restricted from spending more than an hour a day with them. Notice that these punishments are more or less the same as their uncle's, for though their actions were worse, they have already suffered a great deal."

With that, he rises to his feet. The entire room follows in suit.

That was a light punishment, Laenor reflects. We shall have to make it more severe.

With Rhaenyra and Mother and Father beside him, he leaves the room.

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Laenor puts Luke and Joff to bed that night, carefully, gently. After this catastrophe, he is painfully aware of just how fragile his children are. He kisses both of their foreheads and draws up the covers around them, smiling when he has to lightly pry himself from their grips.

"G'night, Papa," they murmur sleepily, eyes already drifting shut. He watches them for a moment longer, these dark-haired sons of his, before catching a snippet of a conversation in the room across from them.

"Tell me a story about Grandmother Aemma, Muña," Vissie is saying. Laenor peeks through the gap between the open door and the doorframe. Rhaenyra is sitting on their daughter's bed, arm wrapped around her shoulders, her expression colored by surprise. Then her eyes soften.

"My mother was a kind woman with a gentle soul. She was generous and pious, and when I was little, she used to carry me in her arms everywhere…"

Laenor watches, his lips curled upwards, as his wife tells tale after tale of her mother to Vissie. He watches until they nod off together, until their breathing evens and their eyes close.

Then he walks to them, blowing out the candle beside them and takes a pillow and blanket the boys aren't using and settles in for the night with his family.

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A/N: Felt guilty about not getting around to updating on Wednesday so I decided to just post this chapter a day early. After this, it's back to regular Saturdays.