[Driftmark]

On the island of Driftmark, the ancestral seat of House Velaryon, one of the last families to hail from Old Valyria, two young men could be seen sparring on the beach.

One, Ser Laenor Velaryon.

The other, Ser Robin Massey, of House Massey of Stonedance.

The sparring match was a fierce one, the crash of steel echoing off the cliffs and sending seabirds flapping into the sky. Despite the warmth of the sun, Laenor's shirt clung to his body, damp with sweat. His silver hair, characteristic of Valyrian descent, was plastered to his forehead, a stark contrast to Robin's own dark curls. The two men danced around each other, swords flashing in the sunlight, each movement a silent conversation of trust and respect. It was a dance they had performed countless times before, but this time there was an undercurrent of tension that neither could quite place.

As the fight drew to a close, a Dornish guard approached Laenor, his armor glinting with the crimson of House Martell. He held out a letter sealed with the sigil of a three headed dragon, a symbol that immediately caught Laenor's attention.

Breaking the seal, he read the parchment with growing astonishment. It was from Alysanne, the rightful heir to the Iron Throne, a woman whose fate had been as tragic as her beauty was legendary. She spoke of her need to marry and bear children, a duty that had been thrust upon her by the cruel whims of fate. But she had chosen him, Laenor Velaryon, as her potential partner in this quest. Despite his known preference for the company of men, Alysanne seemed unbothered. She had read the old texts and knew of potions that could aid in the conception of trueborn heirs.

The letter was a revelation and a proposal wrapped in one. Alysanne suggested they meet in Dorne, where the laws and customs were more forgiving than in the rest of the Seven Kingdoms. There, they could explore the possibility of a union that would be unorthodox in the eyes of many, yet could serve to restore her family's claim to the throne. The idea of sharing his life with a woman, especially one as powerful and revered as a Targaryen, was not what Laenor had ever envisioned for himself. Yet, the prospect of a future where his beloved Robin could be by his side without fear of repercussion was tantalizing.

Robin, noticing the profound change in Laenor's demeanor, stepped closer, curiosity burning in his eyes. "What is it?" he asked, breathless from their exertion. Laenor hesitated, the words feeling too heavy for his tongue. But he knew he could not keep such a secret from the man who had captured his heart. "It's from Princess Alysanne―Queen Alysanne," he finally said, handing over the letter. "She wishes to speak of marriage and the continuation of her line."

Robin took the parchment, his brow furrowing as he scanned the elegant script. "Marriage?" he echoed, his voice tinged with surprise. "But she knows..."

Laenor nodded solemnly. "Indeed, she does. And yet, she is willing to consider me as a suitor. She speaks of elixirs that could aid in the conception of trueborn children, despite my... preferences."

Robin's grip tightened on the letter, his gaze drifting to the horizon where the sun dipped low over the sea. "And what of us?" he asked, the wind playing with the edges of the parchment.

Laenor took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. "Alysanne is... understanding. She suggests that Dorne, with its liberal views on love and lineage, would allow us to maintain our bond, even if she takes me as a husband to sire an heir."

Robin's eyes searched Laenor's, seeking reassurance amidst the tumult of emotions that played across his face. "What does that mean for us?"

"It means," Laenor began, his voice firm but gentle, "that we could still be together, without fear of retribution. Alysanne is not asking for my heart, only my name and my seed. She is open to the idea of... an arrangement that would permit us to continue our relationship."

Robin's eyes searched Laenor's, a maelstrom of hope and doubt. "Do you truly believe this could work?"

"I do," Laenor said with conviction. "Dorne is unlike any other place in Westeros. If there is a way for us to be together and for me to help Alysanne in her cause, it is there. I must go and speak with her. This could be the key to restoring House Targaryen, and perhaps, in doing so, we can find a way to live our lives as we wish."

Robin looked at the letter, his thumb tracing the crimson seal. "But what if she expects more than you can give?"

Laenor took Robin's hand in his own. "Alysanne does not strike me as a fool. She knows what she is asking and what she is offering. We would both be sacrificing something for the greater good."

The two men stood in silence for a moment, the only sound the gentle lapping of the waves against the shore. Then, Robin spoke. "If this is what you wish to do, I will support you. But I cannot bear the thought of sharing you, even for the sake of a crown."

Laenor's grip on Robin's hand tightened. "You would never be just a 'part' of me, my love. You are my heart. I will not let this change that."

"And your father?" Robin questioned. "He is sworn to Stannis Baratheon, is he not?"

Laenor chuckled. "You and I know that arrangement has always been precarious at best. Upon the Baratheon ascension to the throne, they did their best to weaken the former allies of House Targaryen. But, they underestimate us. That might just be their biggest mistake. The Velaryons hail from Old Valyria, just like the Targaryen. Few of us have been dragonriders. We ruled the seas as the Targaryens ruled the skies. Perhaps it is time we did so again. We are the Old, the True, the Brave."

He paused, his eyes on the horizon. "If I am to marry Alysanne, we will be a powerful alliance. And with our combined strength, we could bring peace to the realm. The war has only just begun and already, it has left the land scarred and the people suffering. House Velaryon has suffered enough. I can offer them a future, a legacy that stretches beyond the shackles of servitude to House Baratheon."

Robin nodded slowly, understanding the gravity of the situation. "But what of your heart?" he pressed. "Can you truly share your bed with her and not feel... incomplete?"

Laenor looked at Robin, his gaze filled with love and determination. "My heart will always belong to you," he assured him. "But if this is the path that leads us to a future where we can be open about our love, where you are not merely a 'paramour' but a recognized and accepted part of my life, then it is a path I am willing to tread."

The Dornish guard, noticing the weight of the conversation, gave them space, retreating to a respectful distance. Laenor knew he had to make a decision that would not only affect his own destiny but also that of his house and the realm.

But first, he would need to explain to his father.

Lord Monford Velaryon was a stern man. Laenor knew part of him would remain disappointed that his love for Robin was not "just a phase".

He was his father's heir. The one who was meant to sire the next Lord of the Tides. But, due to his preferences, his father worried about the next generation of Velaryons.

To Laenor, it hardly mattered. He had a younger brother, Monterys, who could easily continue the family line, had Laenor died without any children.

But now, he had been given a chance to help shape the future of the realm, and perhaps, in doing so, create a place where his true love could be acknowledged openly. The thought was both thrilling and terrifying. He knew he could not refuse Alysanne's offer without serious repercussion.

The Dornish guard waited patiently, the sun casting a warm glow over his crimson armor. He had borne witness to countless battles and secrets, and now he had brought one to Laenor's doorstep. "Your reply, ser?" he asked, his voice steady despite the gravity of the situation.

Laenor glanced at Robin, who held his gaze with a quiet resolve, before turning back to the guard. "I must confer with my father."

The guard nodded. "Her Grace, Queen Alysanne, awaits your response with anticipation. She understands the delicacy of the situation and has requested that this meeting remain a secret."

With a heavy heart, Laenor made his way to the Great Keep, where his father, Lord Monford Velaryon, awaited him. The halls of the castle echoed with the whispers of the past, a stark reminder of the legacy he was born into. Upon entering the chamber, Laenor noticed the shadows playing on his father's face, hinting at the weight of his own decisions and the expectations that rested upon their house.

"Father," Laenor began, his voice echoing in the high-ceilinged room, "I have received a letter from Dorne. It is from Queen Alysanne Targaryen." He paused, allowing the significance of the name to sink in. "She requires an audience."

"Queen?" His father questioned. "We have four 'Kings' and now a Queen."

Of course his father was referring to what was quickly becoming known as "The War of the Kings".
As it stood, there were four men who bore the title King; Joffrey Baratheon (Waters?), Stannis Baratheon, Renly Baratheon, and Robb Stark.

The first three were fighting to sit the Iron Throne, while the latter only sought his kingdom's independence.

Monford's expression grew contemplative as he listened to his son's words. He knew the political landscape was fraught with danger and opportunities. "What does Alysanne propose?" he asked, his voice measured.

Laenor took a deep breath, his heart racing. "Marriage," he replied, watching his father's reaction closely. "She is aware of my... preferences, yet she believes we can conceive trueborn children with the aid of certain elixirs. And Dorne, as you know, is more accepting of such matters. We could invite another into our bed, if it is what it takes."

Monford's eyes narrowed slightly, but he remained silent, his mind racing with the implications of this revelation. It was no secret that Laenor had a taste for men, and though he had hoped his son would produce an heir to continue their line, he had never pressured him into a union he did not want.

"Marriage to a Targaryen," he mused, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "It would be a significant alliance for House Velaryon. But," he added, his gaze sharpening, "it is a dangerous game you would be playing, my son. To claim the Iron Throne in these times is to invite a storm upon our heads."

Laenor nodded, understanding his father's concerns. "Yet, if we stand idly by, our house may drown in the chaos. This could be our chance to restore our house to its former glory. One that could rival the days of the Sea Snake."

Monford's eyes lit up at the mention of his ancestor, the legendary Corlys Velaryon. He knew the history of his house and the bonds they had shared with the Targaryens. "It is a bold move," he said finally. "But one that could serve us well. However, we must tread carefully. Your mother would not wish to see us wade into a war that could cost us everything we have left."

Laenor nodded solemnly, knowing his father was right. "I will accept Alysanne's invitation," he decided. "But we must do so discreetly. House Baratheon cannot learn of our true intentions. We will go to Dorne under the guise of a diplomatic visit."

"We?"

"Robin and I." Laenor explained.

The mention of Robin's name brought a softness to Monford's features, a stark contrast to the steel in his eyes. "The boy from House Massey," he said, his voice heavy with understanding. "Your paramour."

"My heart," Laenor corrected, his voice firm. "And he will come with me. If I am to consider this union, it must be with the knowledge that our bond will not be severed."

Monford studied his son, the fire of determination in Laenor's eyes reflecting the fiery heritage of their Valyrian ancestors. He knew his son's love for Robin was not a fleeting fancy, but a bond that ran deep. And if this alliance with Alysanne could protect them, give them a future, then perhaps it was a risk worth taking.

"Very well," he said with a sigh. "You will go to Dorne. But we must be cautious. Stannis's reach is long, and he would not look kindly upon such treachery."

Monford called for his maester, instructing him to prepare for their immediate departure. The maester nodded, disappearing into the shadows to make the necessary arrangements.

"You leave tonight," Monford said firmly. "The fewer who know of this, the better."

Laenor nodded, feeling a mix of excitement and dread. He found Robin in his chambers, poring over a map. "We leave for Dorne tonight," he announced, his voice steady. "My father has agreed to the meeting."

Robin looked up from the map he had been studying, his eyes hopeful. "Does this mean...?"

"It means," Laenor said, taking a seat beside him, "that we have a chance to change the course of the realm. To secure a future where our love is not just tolerated, but accepted."

Robin's eyes searched Laenor's, looking for any hint of doubt. "And what of your brother?" he asked softly. "Monterys is young. He could still marry and produce an heir."

Laenor sighed, knowing this was a sensitive topic. "My brother is still a child," he replied. "And even when he is of age, it is not his place to bear the weight of this alliance. This is my duty as the eldest son."

"Your duty," Robin repeated, his voice thick with emotion. "And what of your heart, Laenor?"

Laenor took Robin's hand in his own, feeling the warmth and strength in their union. "My heart will always be yours," he said gently. "But I must do what is best for our house, for our people. This alliance with Alysanne could mean protection for us all, and a chance for our love to flourish openly."

Robin nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. He knew the risks that came with being a paramour to a man of Laenor's status, but he had never wanted anything more than to stand by his side, no matter the cost. "I will support you," he vowed.

Their preparations were swift and silent. Only a handful of trusted servants knew of their departure, and even fewer knew the true nature of their journey. As they packed their belongings, Laenor couldn't help but think of the future that lay before them, a future that could either end in glorious victory or a fiery doom. He took a deep breath, pushing aside his fears, and focused on the task at hand.

When they were ready, they made their way to the docks where a ship waited, its sails already billowing in the breeze. The ship was fast and sleek, a testament to the Velaryon's wealth and the urgency of their mission. As they boarded, Robin took Laenor's hand, offering comfort and strength. They shared a brief, lingering kiss, a promise of what they would fight to protect.

The voyage to Dorne was fraught with tension and anticipation. The sea stretched out before them, a vast and unpredictable expanse that mirrored the tumult in Laenor's heart. He could not help but think of the elixirs mentioned in Alysanne's letter, the ones that could supposedly help him father an heir despite his inclinations. He had never been one for subterfuge, but for the sake of his house and his love, he was willing to play the game.