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Summary
“Let me melt your wings, little dragon,” The Sea Snake’s voice whispered against his hair as his eyes slipped closed, the stars above Driftmark filling his vision behind his eyelids, “I’ll give you enough fire to light your way, to help me guide you, but this time you’ll belong to the sea.”
Lucerys Velaryon dies above Storm's End, and the Dance begin and ends, setting into motion the downfall of House Targaryen. But the gods of Old Valyria have other plans for the rightful queens favored son.
(An astronomically slow burn Lucemond time travel fix it fic, because its almost thanksgiving and I want to indulge myself in some gratuitous Lucerys love, alright.)