The war council had been an uneventful affair so far, for the majority he sat and listened trying to get up to speed. Most of what he knew beforehand still held true, the Pirates knew the water and lands better than they and had used it to their advantage. At first the fleets fought like normal, head on, ramming and boarding one another until one side lost. Naval combat, without cannons, was much like ground warfare in that way. These were the battles his father new, excelled at even, and he won them with ease. Beating the Crabfeeder and his men at every stage. With the help of Daemon and Caraxes, along with his mother (who did not attend the meeting) and Maelys, they were unbeatable.
Taking island upon island. They now controlled all of the eastern Islands up to Bloodstone and as far south as Grey Gallows.
But like men tend to do, their enemies adapted. After the first six moons of getting burned alive and upon a group of fresh batch 'pirates' and supplies from the Triarchy, the Crabfeeder switched his tactics. Now favoring traps, ambushes, and dodging the dragons at all cost, they had dragged the war close to a grinding halt. Progress was still made, but it now came without the benefit of Dragonfire and far more casualties. From what he learned so far during the meeting, the gains were getting smaller by the day. They were now stuck fighting in between bloodstone and the next islands.
Daemon and the Blood Wyrm, with their usefulness at sea greatly decreased, now spent most of their time flying from island to islands scorching any hideout they could find. Daemon himself, the brute, was mostly looking for the base of the Crabfeeder; believing, rightfully, that if the men died the rest of the pirates would either kneel or flee. His mother stayed with his father fleets as protection or scoured the western islands watching out and discouraging Dornish Involvement.
The Red Queen and her rider rarely saw action. Laevon was sure that was exactly what his mother wanted, she hadn't wanted to join this more about as much as him. Only agreeing to go out of duty and not wanting one of her children to be forced into it. With him here now he did not know how much longer she would stay.
The war had been kind to the dragonriders, as most wars were, it was his father and the Velaryon fleet that was taking the brunt of the damage. His father spent most of his days now chasing after fleeing ships or fighting himself out of a hasty ambush or two. The man still stood tall and hale but the signs of fatigue were there. Laevon could see it, his father was growing weary of having to chase fleeing men and avoid traps upon traps upon traps.
Most of the fighting happened in the central islands or near Tyrosh, but the ambushers mostly came from the south, by way of Lys. It was the only area in the sea outside, of the northern eastern islands, they did not have proper coverage.
This is where he came in,
"Laevon?" his fathers called out to him, pulling him out of his thoughts.
His vision snapped to the older man, whose looks he did not favor very much. He had his mothers coloring, hair and eyes. The only thing he gained physically from his father was his nose and size. All was not lost in the genetic lottery though, the mans traits had wormed their way into him fully. For better or worse, his pride, arrogance, and ambition was where he matched his father fully and wholly. It was also where he clashed with him brutally.
They currently sat around a large oaken table that had a hastily drawn map sprawled on it. Some of the islands were out of position and too small or large compared to his own. He could've have brought his map here and let them use it, but it was one of his prized possession and he would not dare let more than those necessary see it. He did not want word getting back to the faith about the magic he possessed. It was bad enough his sister held the other half of his mirror.
"Yes, my lord?" he asked
"Did you hear what I said?" his father asked his hands pointed at a piece placed on the shoddily made map. A small ship near the southern most and smallest island in the south, an island they called Tyr.
Laevon shook his head, causing for the Prince to scoff. "The boy cannot even focus during the meeting. It was a waste to have him brought here." the prince looked at him with a smirk "Just run back to Driftmark boy. You and your worm will have no use here anyway." and he waved him away.
A round of chuckles sounded out from the Princes sycophants. Useless sellsails and sellswords, more than willing to cut the mans throat should the coin be high enough; all who stopped at his fathers glare. They might like the Prince, and the flock of whores that followed him, but they knew who filled their pockets. Even when they stopped he could see, feel, that they felt the same as the Prince, they found his presence useless. They underestimate him, his men and Seafoam, for they did not know.
"If I was not needed, *my prince*, than my father would not have called me. While Caraxes is a fearsome beast, she cannot do what my Seafoam can." he replied, matching the older mans gaze.
"Their is nothing your *snake* can do that my *Dragon* cannot. You may have some blood of Valyria in you *boy*, but you do not know what a real dragon can accomplish." the prince countered, his eyes full of condescension.
The atmosphere in the room grew tense and everything in Laevon's body wanted to contest what the prince said. And he could, Seafoam was just as much Dragon as Caraxes, only she ruled the sea's and not the sky. A smaller domain, but no less important. He knew the brute would not yield in his opinion and would only make him look childish if he rose to the man's bait, so he kept his words to himself.
Instead he shook his head with a chuckle and looked at the man with eyes full of pity. And that got the reaction he wanted, the prince's nostrils flared and he glared with anger. He found him an easy man to anger. Laevon only chuckled again fanning the flames even more.
"You dare-"
"I did not know we were here to bicker like ladies." his father cut in, cutting the younger Prince off without a care.
Daemon glared at his father, who matched his gaze with ease. Daemon only huffed as he sat back into his seat.
"Your boy, Lord Corlys has not learned how to respect his *betters*. Teach him before I must do so. Heir to Driftmark or not." the prince finally said,his meaning clear to all.
"We are not here to speak of my education, my prince, we are here for war." Laevon said to the prince, only further earning his ire. A sharp look from his father stopped him from continuing.
His father spoke up again before the Prince or one of his men could speak up, "As I was saying, Laevon, because you have Seafoam and her natural advantage in the waters and her scouting ability. You, and the ships you brought with you, will be in charge of patrolling the southern waters. You will mostly patrol the south eastern half of the Islands. Your main goal is too look out for movements from Lys or any other pirates. And alert us to any troubles should they come." he circled his hands around the rough area he would patrol. It was not too big, a sizeable amount, especially for the amount of ships he had. It would be difficult if he did not have a dragon and his map. "Do not take on unnecessary fights, but pick off as many as you can. Do not throw yourself into unnecessary danger."
"It will be done, nothing will be hidden from us in the south east. If a fishing boat from Lys so much as leaves the dock we will know." he declared. He truly believed his words, he was equipped with the resources to ensure such a thing could happen.
The prince scoffed at his words, but did not offer a rebuttal. The man looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here now. It seemed to Laevon that he had ruined the Prince's war games with his refusal to let him embarrass him. Laevon only smirked. To him it looked like the Prince's thoughts had moved on to the next whore he would bed.
His father nodded at him with hard eyes full of warning, "Good make sure it is so. We cannot tolerate failure."
Laevon nodded his head, and his father moved on to the rest of the group. The rest of the fleet would be stationed near the northern and central areas of the Island where most of the fighting was taking place. Only one small fleet was stationed in the West under the command of one of the Sellsword Captain's, a thin girlish looking man who went by Sea Grazer. They, along with his mother, were to watch out for Dorne.
It had been calm over the last moon as his father waited for him to arrive and now they plan to make a push. The Northern Eastern islands were where the Crabfeeder held his stronghold and majority of his ships at and his father and the Prince wanted to route them from it. His only job was to act as a distraction and deterrent to prevent the still fresh fleets of Lys from trying to intervene.
It was not what he had hoped to be doing, preferring to be stationed in the west on Dornish lookout. Unlike them, Lys had a high chance of participating in the battle and were likely mobilizing as they spoke. Also, there were still Pirates patrolling those waters, the West had become a no-go zone due to his mothers influence. Regardless, he would make the best of the circumstances.
After letting them know they were to leave in a sennight the Prince dismissed them soon after, and he left quickly. Trying to get to the chaos of the tents before his father could call on him, if he could get out of sight he knew the man would wait for another day to talk to him about his conduct.
"Laevon" he heard his father's stern voice call out just as he reached the edge of the clearing into the line of tents. He paused like a caught dog and turned on his heal with a sheepish smile which quickly vanished when he saw the look the older man held, "Come, I would like a word." the man commanded as he began to walk to his own personal tent. It was a short walk and upon entering the servant hurriedly bowed to them as they walked in, she had been in the middle of cleaning.
"Leave us" his father commanded.
While they woman scurried out Laevon observed his father's tent. It was far more luxuriously decorated than his. The ground was covered with Myrish rugs, the chairs made from the finest woods by the world renown craftsmen. A lavender smell was pervasive throughout the room, the product of the Yi-ti'ish incense his father had imported. On the left of the tent was where his father slept, while technically a cot, it was still more luxurious than anything the smallfolk would see in their lifetimes. The other side held a large wooden desk, expertly carved from the best carpenters of Spicetown. The back wall was where his fathers gold gilded chests and wardrobe were. Along with his customized Seahorse armor and battle axe.
His father made his way to the desk and sat down with a sigh, grabbing the pitcher and two cups that rested on a side table. He poured some for himself, downed it and then poured another, filling both cups this time.
"Don't just stand there boy, Sit" his father demanded, motioning at the chair in front of his desk, when he saw that Laevon was still standing.
"Y-yes" he replied, he had been stunned by how *loose* his his father was being. The man prided himself on being the mostly proper and put together at all times. There had not been a moment in his life where he had seen his father have even an inch of his hair out of place. Now, he looked truly stressed.
Laevon sat down in the chair, noticing that even it was of slightly higher quality than the ones he had been provided. They sat in silence for a long time, his father stared into him as if trying to pear into his soul, slowly sipping from his cup. Laevon on the other hand did his best to look anywhere but his father.
He was not scared of the man, but it would be a lie to say that he did not respect him greatly. It was hard not too once he understood just how far his father had brought their family in a short two decades. Because that was truly how short the timeframe had been, his father had not began his voyages until his mid twenties. From a slightly respected house due to their relation with the Dragonlords, to becoming the second dragon riding family in the realm. His father had brought their house to the peak, all in twenty years. He had read his father's personal journal and listened to him tell the tells of his voyages, description so vivid he felt he had lived it himself. After that he could do nothing but respect the man and to disappoint him did hurt his pride a little bit.
"What it your name?" his father finally asked after a long while
"Laveon Velaryon" he replied, not sure why his father asked
"And who is your father?"
"Corlys Velaryon"
"Your mother?"
"Rhaenys Velaryon nee Targaryen"
"And you hold, in your body the blood of Valyria?"
"Yes?" he replied with some hesitance, he was not sure where his father was going anymore.
"And you hold, in your body the blood of Valyria?" his father asked again his voice sterner
"Yes" he answered with more confidence
"And you ride a dragon, a type never seen before, Correct?"
"Father, what is the point of-"
"The *point*" his father interrupted, his teeth gritted "Is that you act as if you were born from a Lyseni whore. If you are a Valeryon, my heir on top of that, you are expected to act as such. *At all times.*" he wanted to reply but his father held up his hand stopping him "You are a *boy*, and yes you are boy for that is how you have acted, who holds more prestige and power than most lords. The heir to Driftmark, future Master of Ships, First ever recorded rider of a *Sea Dragon*, you are the youngest knight in the realms history, and you have already proven yourself as a skilled sailor."
He slightly puffed up his chest at his father words, but his father next words cut him deep, "And yet, at the first sign of a slight, you turn a petulant child. Throwing words around like that court fool Mushroom, and with a man who has little to his name save his Dragon." Laevon, deflated, made a move reply again, but was interrupted, "I do not care if Daemon has called you a green-boy or a slobbering fool or any other insult he may come up with. You, *my son*, do not stoop to his level. You are better and you are smarter, and I expect you to act as such from now on. " His father took another sip from his cup.
"But father-" his father gave him a withering glare that cowed any reply he had come up with. He balled his fist tightly as he sat in his chair, fighting the urge to lash out.
"Are my words clear?" his father asked
"Yes" he said through gritted teeth.
His father eyed him for a few moments before nodding, "Good, let this be the last time we have a talk like this. Go and get some sleep, we may leave in a sennight, but the war continues tomorrow." his father turned his gaze away from him and unrolled one of the parchment maps on his desk studying it.
"Yes, my lord" he stiffly stood up, gave his father a bow and left the room. His father did not acknowledge him as he left.
The walk back to his tent was a cold and chilling one.