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Chapter Text

It felt like a curse had befallen him all of a sudden.

Lucerys remembers the sensation of his body being ripped apart and falling to the sea. He remembers the pain of it all and remembers Aemond's voice, screaming desperately for Vhagar to stop. He remembers Aemond screaming his name, desperate, and Lucerys wants to forget.

He remembers water engulfing his being and then darkness swallowing him whole. He remembers being pulled into someone's arms. They were gentle, harsh, warm, cold, loose, and tight. It felt complicated as the stranger who held him kept him in their arms and whispered into his ear. 

Their voice was soft, delicate in way but it felt like a shrill noise cutting through his ears. Luke quietly whimpered as the unknown entity tried to comfort him. A slender hand ran through his hair and Lucerys tried to open his eyes.

“ Kirās, bykys dārilaros. ” the voice whispered and Lucerys reluctantly opened his eyes.

He gasped, immediately beginning to squirm but the unknown entity held him firm. Horror rips through Lucerys as he looks down upon pitch black arms that held him close. He couldn't see the strangers face but he heard them softly as their other hand caressed his head.

Where was he? What was he doing here? Wasn't he dead?

Arrax .

The mere thought of the name made him scream, but he realized too late that no sound left his lips. He strained his throat for nothing as he began to panic. His breathing was off, fast paced, and his heart was pounding against his chest.

His dragon was dead. He was dead.

What was he to do now?

“ Lykirī dārilaros.”

Luke wretched, his body going limp as his vision blurred for moments. A hand snakes towards his neck and Luke choked. His blurry vision landed upon the chaos below him. Westeros. 

Huh?

“ Gaomagon ao gīmigon qilōni iksan, zaldrītsos ?” the stranger asked him. Do you know who I am, little dragon? 

Lucerys shakes his head. He didn't know who this person is. He didn't even know their face. Yet, a sense of familiarity sweeps over him.

The stranger sounded neither woman nor man. It was a perfect combination that made Luke question their identity even more.

“ Sylugon, zaldrītsos ” Try, little dragon.

But Lucerys couldn't speak. He wanted his mother. He wanted to cry. He wanted to fade away into nothing as the stranger caressed his hair again and sat him down on their lap. He finally realized that they weren't floating over King's landing anymore, but rather, they were atop some tower. Lucerys didn't recognize it.

But he was familiar with the scenery before him.

Dragonstone.

He could hear the roars of dragons, the cries they make as familiar red passes above him. Caraxes flew away from Dragonstone and Lucerys could faintly see Daemon's figure atop the Bloodwyrm. A melancholic smile forms upon his lips as he watches.

And watch, he did.

Lucerys was forced to watch his houses fall. He was forced to watch, often times on the lap of the stranger or being held gently in their arms. But Lucerys merely watched as everything he knew burned and turned to ash.

He watched as Jace fell into the water just like him. He watched as Rhaenys was burned along with Meleys. He watched as everyone he loved died. And yet, when he watched as Aemond and Daemon battled upon the god's eye, he was finally able to break free from the hollowness in his heart. He watched, excitement and dread coursing through his veins as Daemon plunged dark sister into Aemond's eye.

The two fell and he wanted to run to his stepfather. He wanted nothing more than to cry into Daemon's arms, begging him to not die. And the stranger that has been holding him captive for so long fulfilled his wish and he was by the drowning men's bodies.

Lucerys floated, his hands cupping Daemon's cheeks as he silently cried. His stepfather's eyes slowly closed but they did not close until Daemon's amethyst eyes pierced his soul. 

“ Avy jorrāelan kepa. ” he dearly wished Daemon heard his words.

As he watched Daemon die, he was once again pulled back by the mysterious entity. His gaze snapped towards Aemond, who was stuck to Vhagar's saddle. Misery was clear upon his expression and Lucerys immediately froze when he heard the muffled last words of his kinslayer of an uncle.

" Lucerys. " 

Lucerys was easily frightened, shutting his eyes and hooking his arms around the strangers neck. No, he killed you! Abandon those childish from your childhood! He thinks, whimpering as he felt the sensation of watering against his skin vanish. They were back to the tower—Lucerys had identified it as one of Dragonstones.

He dared to look up, frowning as he still could not see the strangers face. A black Feil obscured his vision, but he suspected there was a small smile upon the strangers face.

Soon, Lucerys was once again forced to watch as everything crumbled. His mother had taken king's landing for mere moments until the common folk revolted. As the dragon pit was brought down, Lucerys felt even more hollow as Joffrey fell. His supposed captor had been kind enough to put him down on the ground and place his brothers head on his lap.

Lucerys felt nothing afterwards.

They all died in the end.

The Targaryen line had been destroyed along with the deaths of so many dragons.

Years after his own death, Lucerys was quietly sitting on the strangers lap and staring at the sunset. The question he hadn't answered long ago was finally answered. Lucerys knew who had taken him, knew who was cruel enough to make him watch as his family perished and turned into nothing but cinders.

He couldn't really blame them.

Beings such as the one who had taken him were not kind, but they granted some mercies to those they were fond of. Was this mercy? Lucerys didn't know as he sighed and kept his gaze upon the setting sun. Dragonstone had practically been abandoned.

" Balerion. " He says, a mere whisper as he glanced towards the god of death. The being chuckled and Lucerys could feel the laugh rumble from his back. He unconsciously took one of Balerion's hands and observed the blackened skin of the valyrian god of death. "Lord Balerion."

“ Rȳ mōrī.  Emā figured ziry hen, zaldrītsos .” At last. You have figured it out, little dragon. Balerion says and allows Lucerys to play with his hand.

The dead prince, the second son of Rhaenyra Targaryen hummed. He might have known the gods identity since the very beginning, merely denying himself confirmation. Lucerys quietly closed his eyes, sighing once more as Balerion held him gently.

"You are a cruel deity." Lucerys whispers, no longer caring for his existence. What was the point when all those he's loved were dead.

"Quite unfortunate." Balerion chuckles. He looked down upon the miserable prince, running his fingers through his skin like usual. Lucerys relaxes.

"You've compensated well, zaldrītsos. Tell me, what do you want?" Balerion asks him.

It felt like poison seeping into his ears and into his brain. Lucerys knows nothing but this tenderness now. The god of death, the very god who had swept him away from the arms of the stranger and forced him to watch tragedy unfold.

What do you want? Such a meaningless question.

"To return… to run away." Ironic.

"I want to return to the time before the trial. I want to run away and hide from the world, it doesn't matter if they burn anymore… I want to get away from them…" Lucerys whispers, "Forsaking my family would be a sin but I merely wish to preserve myself. To live. To protect my dear Arrax and never look back. I—"

Tears stung his eyes and his head dropped. Balerion, for the cruel god he was, acted gently and held him close.

"For all your suffering, for enduring my cruelty, let me grant you your wish, Zaldrītsos ." 

"What?"

But Balerion merely smiled, putting Lucerys on his feet and holding his hand. Their bodies swayed to a nonexistent rhythm and Lucerys was forced to dance with the god of death. Balerion was taller than him, and his vision cleared enough to see the long pitch black hair swaying along with them. The veil was gone and what met his gaze were rubies and amethyst mixed into the gods eyes. They were slitted like the dragons.

Balerion hummed, pressing his forehead against Luke's and the prince flinched. The god's skin was cold as usual but Luke had found some comfort in the cold.

His breath stuttered, pursing his lips as Balerion brought a hand to his waist.

"Zaldrītsos… three years before your own death… I shall allow that much time to fade." Balerion declared and Luke was confused. "Run to Essos, save yourself there."

But everything started to go blurry again. His body swayed, unable to hold himself up as Balerion held him. He grimaced, unable to focus on anything but Balerion's voice.

“ Māzīs se yne rhaenās, ñuha jorrāelagon Lucerys.”

Come and find me, my dearest Lucerys.

Balerion had left me.

Lucerys understood this. Days , weeks, and now three moons have passed since he woke up and he wandered the halls of dragonstone with such a thought. 

Balerion told me to find him.

He was ten and three, exactly three years before the trial, three years before his own death. Lucerys stares at his image in the mirror, pressing a hand to his soft skin and flinching. Last time he had felt his own skin, it was almost ready to rip away.

He shuddered, pursing his lips as he looked down at the bag he had packed. Numerous clothes and at least six pouches of money were stuffed into it. A dagger, a book on Essos customs, and a map Corlys had gifted him for his nameday. Lucerys was ready to run at any point now.

He flinched as one of the servant girls knocked on his door, stating that his mother was looking for him. Lucerys dreaded this.

Silently, he followed the maid to where his mother was situated. Aegon the younger had just been born moons ago, and he found his mother and younger brother sitting by the gardens.

Nervously, Lucerys addressed his mother with a small smile. Rhaenyra returns happily, ushering him to her as she holds the babe in her arms. Lucerys wanted to cry, knowing the cruel date of regency floating above his little brother's head. But he smiles and hugs her tight.

" Muña. " He whispers and Rhaenyra kisses his temple.

" Tresy , I've noticed that you've been rather restless lately. Daemon is also worried since you have insisted on increasing your training." Rhaenyra frowns, cupping his cheek as her second born smiles hopelessly.

I need to learn how to fight. I need to learn so I can live. Guilt crept into him, unable to hide the fact that he only thought of himself. How selfish he was at the mere thought, the mere fact, that was ready to abandon their entire family to save himself. But Lucerys was more human than dragon, in the words of many.

But Lucerys was his mother's son and he was willing to play this little charade for a bit longer. So he indulged his mother, pretending to be the sweet boy she currently knows and rambled on about his day.

He speaks with false joy, false cheer. Lucerys pretends and he thinks that he's in a show. He pretended as if he's in a theater, acting out some show that hid the tragedy from its audience. Lucerys smiles, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes.

As his mother showers him in affection, Lucerys lies his head on her lap and closes his eyes. He could hear little Aegon babble as his mother tried to shush him. She thinks he's fallen asleep, caressing his hair in a way that reminded him of Balerion. His mind instantly goes to the mysterious god who had taken form of a tall man with black hair and ruby-like eyes.

Lucerys had done everything in his power to change the tides of time. Even with the smallest changes, like visiting Driftmark and trying to make Rhaenys love him. He had done his best, like telling her of how Baela or Rhaena would be better heirs to the driftwood throne. How it would be nice to have a lady of the tides along with a new queen in the future. This seemed to be the breaking point of Rhaenys’ reluctance, as she had been kinder, warmer, and a bit more affectionate than before.

If Baela was to be Jace’s wife then Rhaena would have Driftmark. He wouldn’t stay. He would  run and gladly watch as Rhaena became Lady of the tides. It didn’t matter that he would lose his inheritance, he just wanted to live.

Even as things changed, he had gone out of his way to bring Rhaena along as their grandsire taught them how to handle ships, how to be a good ruler upon driftmark. Just as Luke learned how to handle a ship, Rhaen knew as well. Both of them were being trained under the guise of one being the future lord of driftmark and the other being their future spouse. Luke silently apologized to Rhaena by giving her Driftmark.

He never did want it.

“Luke?”

“Yes?”

Rhaenyra smiles, placing a gentle kiss atop his forehead. Luke tried his best not to flinch.

“I love you with all my heart, my sweet boy. Never forget that.” Her voice was but a whisper, pressing their foreheads together as little Aegon was taken by one of the nursemaids. The crown princess was gentle as she held her son, silent as she showed her affections.

Luke would regret his plan, but he wanted to live. His death had caused a war and in his mind, he thinks, Without me, Aemond wouldn't have become a Kinslayer. Without me, everyone wouldn’t die.

In the eyes of the drowned prince, vanishing was the best solution.

So that day, Lucerys Velaryon, second son of Rhaenyra Targaryen, Laenor Velaryon, and Harwin Strong, took his dragon Arrax and fled from Westeros.

A single night, he was gone and by the time the sun rose, he was nowhere near Westeros.

Rhaenyra Targaryen promised bloodshed if her son was not found.

Lucerys had done everything in his power to stay awake as Arrax flew over the sea. With his dragon’s pearlescent scales, it easily blended into the clouds. He merely hoped to land on Pentos, but he knew that Daemon had some friends there. They would see a dragon from a mile away and immediately alert his stepfather of his presence. He pursed his lips, grabbing the canteen of water he had stored into the saddle bag hours ago. 

Corlys once told him that dehydration could kill you faster than starvation, so he had been smart enough to pack at least three canteens to keep him alive. He would land on Essos, somewhere, anywhere, so long as it was near Valyria. He wouldn’t die. No. Balerion had sent him back for a reason and he wasn’t going to waste his chance by dying now.

“Arrax… I’m sorry.” He whispered, and his dragon cooed at his voice. Although Arrax wasn’t that big, he seemed bigger than he remembered. Luke could only fly on Arrax when he turned ten and one, but here his beloved Dragon was, flying across the narrow sea.

Luke worried about the fact that he may be sighted. He could see land and pursed his lips, praying to the gods, Balerion especially, that he would not be seen. As if knowing his thoughts, Arrax flew higher and blended into the clouds. Awe fogged his eyes as he smiled at his dragon. This journey might not be as bad as he thought.

Hours later, Luke found them landing somewhere close to Pentos. On desolate lands, ruins were the only thing Luke could see. He grimaced, knowing that he may have to skip several meals, but he was willing to do anything at this point if it meant running away and hiding in Old Valyria.

He shivered as his feet landed on the dusty floors of the ruined building. Luke didn't know what it was but it was ancient and isolated. In every direction he looked, he didn't see any other human. Trees shrouded the ruin and Arrax was happily lying on the ground.

Luke gulped.

I wonder if that god of light sent you a guardian… 

He jolted, looking around for the source of the voice but he found nothing. In an instant, Luke trembled, fearful as he took many steps back from the ruin and tried to run back to Arrax. The building felt dangerous with its crumbling walls and desolate atmosphere. It felt like a trap.

"My prince."

Lucerys was quick to unsheathe his sword, moving on instinct and feeling his entire body tremble. Sensing his fear, Arrax had woken up from his relaxed state and was on his feet, snarling at the cloaked figure standing before the doors of the ruined building. Lucerys felt something familiar from the stranger but he was nonetheless wary of everything else.

As the person removed their cloak, Lucerys saw a woman with copper hair and eyes as red as blood. She was terrifyingly pale, it could almost rival his mother's paleness. Yet she did not look as divine (by the words of the common folk) as the Targaryens. She looked human blessed by some gods with her wistful eyes that seemed to be clouded by smoke.

She wore red, so much red that it was like the fabric had been washed with blood.

Lucerys pursed his lips, taking a step back with his sword still in hand. Something about the woman was unnerving.

Yet, as she took a knee, Lucerys froze in shock.

"The drowned prince," she says and Lucerys flinches away. "Brought back from the dead, a destroyed future, to bring forth salvation. Prince Lucerys Velaryon, have no fear of me, for my Lord has brought me to you in good will." The woman speaks and raises her head a bit to meet his gaze.

Lucerys was reminded of Balerion's ruby eyes, but this woman had a mix of fire and blood.

"... What?"

For his own stupidity, he didn't even know what else to say.

The woman offers a smile, "Call me Melisandre, my prince. I am a priestess of the god of light, R'hllor. I come from the city of Asshai. My Lord has sent me here to aid you, speaking of how the Valyrian Gods are fond of you,"

Lucerys stiffened, hesitantly lowering his sword. A red priestess, he remembers. Balerion had told him stories of R'hllor's followers, his priests and priestesses dressed in red. The god of light, the same god he did not even follow, had sent him one of his followers as a sort of guardian. Why he was receiving a god's attention, he did not really know. 

He could somewhat understand why Balerion had come to him, but the god of light had no reason to bother with a mortal prince like him. It was baffling and it seemed like the woman—Melisandre, had noticed his doubt.

She got back up on her feet, acting as gently and kindly as possible. "The flames have shown me an unspeakable future. The future you have suffered and the one you wish to prevent. Tell me, my prince—" Lucerys didn't understand why she referred to him so formally, "Why have you fled from home?"

Lucerys was silent, frowning to himself as he lowered his gaze and shook his head. "I wish not to suffer that tragic fate again. My stepsister shall inherit my throne and my family shall not go to war with my death. Must they fight, it shall not be me who starts it." He breathes out, "and I… Was told to seek for someone."

Melisandre hummed, "Yes… the god of death, Balerion." She nodded silently and ushered him into the ruined building.

"This was once a building owned by a valyrian family. It has long been abandoned since the doom of old Valyria." Melisandre explains, gesturing to the somewhat old chairs and blankets that clearly did not belong there. "My Lord has advised me to keep you here for a time before we shall depart for your journey—"

" We ?" 

Melisandre smiled, a coy, amused smile. "Yes, we , my dear prince. As you are a… champion of a deity, you are still rather ignorant. As I understand you died young, and you have yet to understand the world around us. You must learn how to fight, how to speak, how to negotiate, how to act ." Her words were harsh but true.

"Forgive me for my bluntness, Prince Lucerys, but I wish to be honest with you." She sighed, "You will not survive if you do not learn how to. I am to be your guardian, regardless of whether you wish for it or not. I must teach you how to stay alive and keep your head for the coming future. This is my duty as a red priestess."

"But why me?"

Lucerys didn't think himself special. He never did.

Why were gods paying attention to him? Why were gods, ones he did not even pray to, come to his aid? Why him at all? Why was he worthy of their attention and fondness for them to give him a second chance and even help him along the way?

It felt ridiculous.

He wasn't special. He was just a foolish boy who had been arrogant enough to make fun of his uncle to the point he got himself killed. He was a foolish boy who acted as if the world around him was safe as he hid behind his mother and sought protection from his stepfather. What in the seven hells did the gods see in him to be this attentive?

He wished to cry. He wished to hide himself from the world, from the eyes of gods, and maybe— just maybe he would finally have peace. Maybe he shouldn't have asked to be sent back. Maybe he should have just passed on and let himself fade away like the rest of the world. Maybe he should have burned his soul and let himself rest from the suffering. He felt stupid.

But…

" Daor Jaes iksis drējī sȳz, ñuha dārilaros.  Ēzi iderēptan ao syt iā drīve. " Melisandre told him, lighting a fire in the very middle of the room as she sat on a blood red carpet that she unrolled. No god is truly good. They have chosen you for a reason. 

But those reasons were what Lucerys wanted to know. 

"Your highness you must rest." Melisandre insisted, pointing towards the smooth looking carpet with pillows and blanket ready for him. Lucerys looked hesitant, taking wary glances at the red priestess before he quietly crawled towards the makeshift bed.

He made sure to put a dagger under his pillow as well as keeping one in his hand just in case. But he wasn't going to sleep. He refused to sleep whilst a stranger was around, maybe ready to kill him. 

Was he going to die again?

Lucerys has embraced death once, a second time wouldn't be much of an issue at the moment.

But he faltered.

His eyelids felt heavy as he felt his breath get deeper. Soon, Lucerys drifted off to slumber, not noticing the soft look Melisandre had sent him. The red priestess sighed, shaking her head as she stared at the fire before her.

As she stared at it longer, she saw salvation and the hopeful future filled with peace. Lucerys Velaryon… She thinks and hopes for the best.

Balerion had held no favor to mortals. They would be taken by him eventually, and he would merely send them to the stranger. But Lucerys Velaryon had been different. Such innocence placed upon a child destined for tragedy, it would have been fun taking his soul.

Yet, as Balerion held Lucerys' trembling and sorrowful soul, he lost himself in the warmth of it. Light emitted from the child's soul until it started to wither and falter. Such a precious soul that was subjected to a fate undeserving of him.

Lucerys was his favorite.

Balerion had coveted the boy's soul. He had been cruel to let the boy suffer, to make him watch as his family died. He was fascinated by the raw emotion of the soul. Over time, it has taken a semi-corporeal form, a tear stained face that Balerion was quite interested in.

He would have kept the boy by his side, but Arrax had come and threatened him.

"Put him back." The ruler of the gods was not one to have short temper, but seeing him now, Balerion wondered if he was the only one who favored little Lucerys. As he held the weeping boy in his arms, the soul didn't seem to notice the other god. It was focused on his own despair.

"Why should I?"

"Balerion! Do not be so foolish to you think that Lucerys' soul will survive in your presence for any longer. Let him go, let him pass on and finally be at peace." Arrax snapped, clenching his feasts before attempring to take the soul from the god of death.

"He doesn't have to—"

"The balance has already disrupted with his death, what more do you want? Do you wish for him to suffer more? The Targaryen's are to perish because of that child's death and it will be all for naught if you continue." Arrax tried to reason with him.

The Targaryen's had been… well, they had been good to the gods of Valyria. Unlike their kin that had perished by the doom, the Targaryens had been worthy of their time by not being greedy and acting as if they were gods. The citizens of Valyria had been punished for trying to transcend to the heavens and play god among humans.

The Targaryens were not like that. They had worshipped them properly, named their dragons after them, and tried to keep the tradition of their homeland. Alas, with vipers and filth sneaking into their family, the iron throne was dirtied by hands of foolish mortals who wished to erase them from humans.

Dragons we're dying because of this.

"Why should we let him pass? Why can't he live again?" 

"Are you out of your mind?!" Arrax yelled and Balerion flinched away. Arrax was the ruler of gods; the god of law, order, justice… Arrax valued balance. "You wish to bring the boy back to life after all this?" The god gestures to the mess the mortals had done to Westeros.

"You wish for him to suffer in a world where all he knew has turned to ashes?!"

"Of course not!" Balerion yelled and pulled the soul closer to him, "Do you know what he wished for? He wished to go back to the time before this all happened. To run away, to hide and live his life."

If Balerion could not even save the remains of their followers, at the very least, he could save his favorite soul.

"If they are destined to perish, let this child live. Let him save himself and run… let him return to a time where there is still peace in the realm. Let him return so he may come to us."

Arrax looked at him as if he were insane. Yet, there was understanding in the others gaze. Arrax turned his eyes towards the sleeping body of Lucerys Velaryon and the god did not hesitate to caress the boys hair. The god held the frightened souls hand and offered a little smile.

"He named his dragon after me."

"I know."

Arrax glared at him, "There will be consequences to your little desire." He reminded the god of death but did not dismiss his wish. "Speak to Shrykos and Vermax. They shall help you in your endeavor."

Arrax turned away from him, but his last words had left Balerion shaken.

"If he dies again then it is your fault Balerion. You must know… that we are not the only gods who are interested in Lucerys… his soul is something to be desired."

Chapter Text

There was something wrong with Aemond.

A moon and a half has gone and passed since the disappearance of Prince Lucerys Velaryon— the boy who had blinded him three years ago.

He should have felt content, he should be celebrating the loss of the boy. Yet Aemond finds himself unconsciously walking to familiar areas of the red keep. Lucerys' old room. The library where Lucerys once kept following him to. The gardens where he and Lucerys would spend quality time as children. The red keep where Lucerys first introduced him to his dragon Arrax.

There was a questionable pain in his chest at the very thought of the boy. No, it wasn't pain , not really. More like a hollowness that has been stuck there for the past three years, as if a whole had been carved into his heart rather than his face. He didn't understand it.

For many years, Aemond hadn't bothered much with his nephew, aside from silent thoughts of him. Be it good or bad, Aemond thought of Lucerys often . He thought of the boy often and he hated it.

Now, after many days filled with rumors of the havoc in Dragonstone, his elder half-sister and the rest of her family are marching back to King's Landing.

Aemond often heard his mother speaking to his father of the rumors regarding Rhaenyra. How his sister had woken up one morning to her son gone. Rhaenyra had come to check in on Lucerys who had been acting oddly and he was nowhere to be found. Arrax was gone as well and Rhaenyra had gone manic. Not a single inch of Dragonstone had been left unturned, to the point that Driftmark was being searched. Not that Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys minded, they had been part of the scuffle and searched for their grandson.

He didn't doubt that Rhaenyra had come to King's Landing to further her search for her son. His father, King Viserys, had even insisted on a search beforehand. Regardless, his mother once states that Rhaenyra would not be satisfied until she or Daemon came to inspect King's Landing themselves.

So here they were, united with two of their families missing a son. Daeron in Oldtown and Lucerys nowhere to be seen.

Aemond thought it was a mess even before Rhaenyra had landed on the port.

"Aemond— Aemond come here."

He turned towards his mother, perplexed with her anxious expression. Alicent held his shoulders firmly, pursing her lips as she forced herself to look at her mutilated son. Regardless of his appearance, Aemond was her child.

"I beg of you… I understand that you needn't be warned, but please … do not make any comments about Lucerys. Be kind, be polite. Set aside your anger for now, the boy has gone missing and your father fears that history may have repeated itself." She whispers, looking devastated as she mentioned his father.

Aemond was confused, History repeating itself? He didn't know what history was returning but he reluctantly nodded.

Alicent smiled, relieved as she cleared her throat and ushered her to the gates to greet Rhaenyra. To Aemond's surprise, he found Aegon, present for once in his life.

His drunken brother looked less drunk than usual, actually seeming to be solemn as their eyes met. Aemond was startled to see the melancholy and dread in Aegon's expression, as he was pulled to his brother's side.

Sending a questioning look to Aegon, his brother merely shook his head and gestures to discuss the situation later. The drunken prince was actually capable of decency and chose to be decent at the moment of his nephew's disappearance. Jacaerys was his favorite, so why was Aegon so concerned? 

The entire ordeal was odd for Aemond.

His mother silently waited for Rhaenyra to arrive, glancing up at the sky with hopeful eyes. Aegon behaves himself and takes appropriate action with the issue. But worst of all was Helaena. There was a manic kind of dear in her eyes, fiddling with her hands as she muttered incoherently under her breath. Although Aemond could identify some high valyrian in her voice.

Regardless, he tried not to wince as the sound of a roar pierced through the air. Their eyes turned upward as a flash of gold landed, followed by red, and green. Syrax, Caraxes, and Vermax had landed, and mounting them were their riders, bearing grim looks of despair. Soon enough, the gates were opened and the rest of Rhaenyra's children had finally arrived. 

There was an obvious absence.

Lucerys was nowhere to be seen, neither was his dragon.

To the surprise of most, Alicent was the first to react upon the arrival of her childhood companion. She bunched up her skirts and rushed towards Rhaenyra, who had just dismounted her dragon. The queen was quick to embrace the crown princess, who was just as shocked by her actions.

"I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…" Alicent whispers, hesitantly removing herself once she realized Rhaenyra did not hug her back. She offered an apologetic smile and Rhaenyra seemed to blink away her shock.

"Thank you." Rhaenyra whispers back with a smile.

"Princess Rhaenyra, Prince Daemon, Princess Rhaenys, and Lord Corlys… I welcome you." Alicent shifts her posture to a more polite one, bowing to the four as they return it with respect. A smile—a sad and small one— graced the queen's lips. "The king wishes for you all to come to his chambers immediately upon your arrival. Forgive the inconveniences as my husband, your father, and your brother wish to make haste to find Prince Lucerys." Her voice was in a hush and the two quickly understood.

Rhaenyra nodded, glancing towards her heir who looked ready to kill everyone in sight. She hurried to her firstborn, grasping his hand and trying his best to calm him down; knowing full well she was not in the state to be comforting anyone.

Alicent, noticing the tension between the family of dragons, sighs softly. She hastily leads them away from prying eyes, glaring at anyone who dares to speak I'll of Rhaenyra and her sons. Now was not the time to be fighting, not when Alicent was forced to listen to Viserys' horror filled woes.

As they stride through the keep, many parted to make way. Rhaenyra and Alicent leased the group as they neared the king's chambers. Inside was Viserys, alone and going insane over books and scrolls, muttering to himself until he heard the doors open and shot up to his feet.

"My child." Viserys whispered, ushering Rhaenyra into his arms and quietly comforting his daughter. He glanced towards his grimacing children, sighing to himself as he offered them soft smiles. The three seemed to be surprised before nodding in acknowledgement. "Brother, cousin." He turned to Daemon and Rhaenys, a solemn look on their faces.

"Come, come— I fear that another tragedy has befallen our family." He spoke, whispering as if the walls could hear him.

Seeing his brother's worries, Daemon barked orders to the guards and told them to leave. Hesitation was what he was met with, but Daemon glared viciously at them, not in the mood for disobedience. The knights hurriedly ran away, as Daemon slammed the doors shut. He did a headcount on their remaking children, a habit he had gained since Lucerys' disappearance.

Dread filled the room, staring at the mess the king had made upon his table. Viserys ushered his daughter and brother to his scrolls, ready to burst into tears as he glanced back down at the information he had dug up.

The situation with Lucerys disappearing with his dragon sounded familiar. A terrifying kind of familiar that left the old king trembling. 

"The records written by septon Barth…" Viserys gulped. No one has seen that much fear on the old king's face since Aemma died, and with a trembling hand, did the king give the records to his daughter. "The records of Aerea Targaryen."

Those who knew of the name froze.

"No!" Rhaenyra immediately denied, tossing the record away and glared at her father with tears stinging her eyes. "My sweet boy—" she choked, sobbing as she placed her hands over her face. Daemon and Alicent immediately moved to comfort her, pulling her away from the scrolls.

Viserys grimaced, picking up the record and handing it to Rhaenys, who silently demanded for it.

For a moment, the queen who never was silent as her eyes scanned the record. She looked the epitome of calm yet those who knew her well could see that she was shaken. "It is not likely, cousin. Arrax is not like Balerion, he was not born in Valyria."

Though that seemed to calm Rhaenyra, Viserys was cruel in his ways. "It is still a possibility. Lucerys has no reason to flee and he has not been sighted anywhere in Westeros. We would have known Rhaenys, we would have known if he was in the seven kingdoms."

Rhaenys pursed her lips, understanding her cousin's concerns. Lucerys, as adventurous as he was, had no reason to abandon his kin and run away. She would have thought the boy was just flying around somewhere, going on a little adventure of his, but almost two moons have passed. 

"My sweet boy… my precious child." Rhaenyra sobbed, unable to contain herself as she collapsed on a chair and wept for her child.

The children in the room were silent, unable to speak. Aemond, Helaena, and Baela were the only ones who actually knew of Aerea Targaryen and none of them were okay. As Jacaerys and Rhaena demanded answers from their sister, Aegon looked worried and turned to his siblings for understanding. 

It only took a few minutes for them to understand the combined efforts of all three trying to explain to them. In those minutes, their horror grew. 

"Viserys, stop with your nonsense—"

"History is repeating itself, regardless of how different they may be!" The king yelled and they all went silent. Viserys had gotten angry before, but not like this. Not with tears in his eyes, sobbing as he tried to reason with his family, to explain his fears. 

"A child of ten and three has gone missing! A child who's dragon is also gone! Adventurous souls. Aerea Targaryen and Lucerys are alike and I fear that the worst has come. Do you not understand? It matters not if my fears are real or not, it is still a possibility that our boy has been taken from us and will return with a fate worse than death!" Viserys sobbed, collapsing just like his daughter. 

By now, most of them knew Lucerys to be the closest of the children to the king. The sweet boy who once preferred his grandsire's company over his brothers, the sweet boy who could be seen asking questions of Old Valyria and helping Viserys with his model of the fallen civilization.

Lucerys, who had been so curious about old Valyria, that Viserys wondered if one day… Lucerys mounts his dragon and all his mind thinks of is Valyria. He wondered and feared the day his grandson's connection to his dragon became so severe that the thought of Valyria would cause Arrax to take him there. 

The entire family had gone silent, unable to deny the similarities. As if the gods decided to reflect the tragedy of the past upon their precious child. Lucerys, ten and three, adventurous and had been forced to stay in Dragonstone for many years— so painfully similar to the tragic Aerea Targaryen. 

"Father… oh father…" Rhaenyra weeps and rushes to her father, pulling him into an embrace. The two continued to cry as they mourned for Lucerys. Daemon grimaced, clenching and unclenching his fists as he paced around the room.

Jacaerys looked shaken, muttering on how he was going to search for his brother no matter what anyone says. Joffrey was confused, trying to get Baela's attention and ask her where Luke was. Aegon was quiet, quieter than ever.

Helaena was the oddest in the group, shaking violently as she closed her eyes.

And Aemond? The boy had an Inconceivable amount of dread coursing through his veins, as if cold water had been doused on him. When he read of Aerea's fate, he had almost vomited as he read the records. The thought of Lucerys returning like that made his stomach churn, making him dizzy. Don't faint, he tells himself and grits his teeth.

He's not dead , he tries his best to assure himself.

The next thing they all knew, Helaena had collapsed, fainting and almost crashed to the ground had it not been for Baela catching her. Alicent screeched, rushing to her daughter and cradling her head, begging for her only daughter to wake up. With such tensions in the air, Alicent was frightened and weeping as Daemon effortlessly placed Helaena on the bed.

"Alicent— Alice! She's okay. She's just fainted, it's the stress." Rhaenyra shushes her, voice gentle as she cupped the queen's face. 

Alicent gazes into her eyes and weeps.

None of them were okay. None of them were assured. Lucerys was gone and Helaena had just fainted.

Hours later, they are once again gathered into Viserys' chambers where Helaena was not moved. The king had insisted that his daughter stay in his chambers, wanting to keep an eye on her. Everyone understood the king's worries, all of them were scared. There was the possibility of Helaena being taken from them and they weren't ready for yet another child gone. 

They arrived back into the chambers, surprised to see Helaena panicking in her father's arms as she wept and wept. The second princess spoke of her dreams, she whispered of fire and blood. She whispered of a war averted at the cost of a boy the gods have favored and taken as a price for their peace.

Helaena grabbed her father's shoulders and whispered of a prophecy only two others knew within the room. " From my blood, come The Heir That Was Promised and theirs will be the Song of Ice and Fire. "

Her voice carried an ominous kind of gentleness to it that sent shivers down their spines. But Helaena continued once she saw understanding dawn in her sister and father's eyes. Her dreams were not imaginary, they were omens. She was blessed and cursed with the ability that saved their family from the doom. And the prophecy she spoke of had a difference to the one they knew— they weren't looking for a prince, not exactly.

"Come what may, black and red have taken the drowned prince and with his soul in the hands of the dreaded, the war has gone. The long night, we shall emerge victorious, but the fate of the prince is unknown." Helaena told her father, then her sister. "Gods do not have favorites… but he lives as the one blessed and cursed with their love. As he lives, his fate is unlike the one war once loved."

Her last words before she fell asleep and all was silent. 

The king and his heir dreaded what whispers the dreamer has proclaimed and wondered what they truly mean.

Whilst the Targaryen family wept for their Beloved child, said child was happily sharpening the new dagger he had gotten. An odd smile graced his lips as he gazed upon his reflection, sighing to himself as he exited the desolate building he had arrived at a moon ago. Arrax was lazing on some patch he had found, blowing away birds who had the audacity to land on his back.

Lucerys chuckled softly, glancing towards the red priestess who had become his guardian (without his consent). 

Melisandre had been the one to purchase food, clothes, and other necessities while she forced Lucerys to read books she had read. Why she was doing this, he did not know. The red priestess was an enigma that Lucerys feared to solve. Her red eyes stuck to the flames, reflecting the fire in her irises before she sighed and intertwined her fingers together.

Slowly, she turned towards him with an apologetic and pitiful smile. Lucerys didn't like it. 

"Your family weeps for you."

Lucerys flinches.

"They think you have succumbed to the same fate as your ancestor. A tragedy she had gone through indeed." A mere hush in her voice, as if she could he heard. Perhaps she could, gods were omnipresent after all.

"I pity them… but once again, I must express that the gods are cruel." Melisandre extinguishes the flames, "You cannot escape this destiny you have put upon yourself."

Lucerys pursed his lips, knowing full well this had been his wish. He had wanted to run, to save himself, but his desires had also involved seeing the god who had taken care of him before. He rubs his hands together, once again feeling the phantom presence of Balerion holding him.

"Which ancestor?" He asks, and Melisandre refuses to meet his gaze. "Melisandre?"

The red priestess sighs, "Do you know of Aerea Targaryen?"

Lucerys contemplates for a moment. The name sounded familiar, not too familiar, but enough to ring a bell in his mind. "Not… quite. She must have been mentioned to me before as the name sounds familiar."

Silence reigned for a moment before Melisandre took the spot beside him and gazed at the sky. Red irises shined, reflected the hue of blue, before she closed her eyes and hummed softly.

"An adventurous soul, just like you." She whispers, "Aerea Targaryen, the daughter of Aegon Targaryen and Rhaena Targaryen, twin of Rhaella Targaryen. She was once proclaimed as King Maegor's heir, and soon became King Jaehaerys' heir. However, once Queen Alysanne gave birth to her own heir, she was displaced, replaced in other words."

Lucerys shudders. The thought of being replaced had once bothered him, but now he would gladly hand Driftmark to Rhaena. However, he wonders if one day Jace would be replaced by their little brother Aegon… as the boy was obviously more legitimate than them. A small smile filled with despair graces his lips.

"She was a free spirited girl who loved king's landing and one day… she was whisked away to Dragonstone." Melisandre's gaze did not leave his, and Lucerys gulped. "Adventurous and mischievous she was, even Maegor seemed fond of the girl. Some say she was his favorite of his two stepchildren."

Melisandre takes his hand and traces symbols on his palm, "She claimed the Black Dread at a young age."

" Balerion ." He whispers, a shiver going down his spine at the name.

Melisandre nods, "Yes. One day, Princess Aerea had gotten into an argument with her mother, Rhaena Targaryen. She had mounted Balerion and fled from Dragonstone. Her mother thought she had run back to King's Landing, but she did not. Aerea had been missing for an entire year before she returned… cursed with a date worse than death."

The ominous tone in her voice made Luke flinch, "Aerea returned on Balerion, landing on the red keeps courtyard. The princess returned so thin that her bones showed, her skin was boiling hot and the septon who treated her described it as… putting your hand in boiling oil. The poor girl. Even her dragon was severely injured."

Lucerys grabbed his hand back, staring at her with horror filled eyes. What could have hurt the Black Dread so much for Melisandre to speak of it like an omen. Yet the red priestess continued to speak of the tragedy.

Lucerys wanted to vomit.

Melisandre continued on to speak of how Aerea Targaryen died. How there were unknown beings within her body that continued to move and seemed to crawl under her skin. When the septon who cared for her submerged the princess in cold water, she screamed with such agony that Lucerys wished to never hear. The creatures within her body had tried to burst out of her, as if in pain from the cold. 

But what bothered Luke more was the fact Melisandre stated that it wasn't the whole story. No, the red priestess knew more than even his own family of the fate of the tragic princess.

"Gods do not have favorites." She states but continued, "But they break this rule, not so often, but they do. You are proof of such and the gods who favor you are more careful than the one who favored Aerea."

It was as if he was back in the storm again. He could hear thunder somewhere, the cold washing over him.

Gods do not have favorites. He thinks, but I'm a god's favorite… and so was Aerea. 

All he could feel was dread.

"The god who favored her was careless. They desired her soul and wished to be happy with her. She was adventurous and embodied the creatures of your house, a child who was not made to be bound and never enslaved."

She gestures to the sky, then to the flames that had ignited once more. They reflected upon her eyes and Lucerys was enraptured.

"You may not believe this but gods are not perfect. They have their flaws and make mistakes. Aerea's fate was a mistake." Melisandre frowned, "The love you have received is more a blessing than a curse, but Aerea's had been a blessing as well… yet later on, it became a curse that had befallen her. Unfortunate child she was, to be favored by a deity such as the one who loved her."

Lucerys wondered what deity would be so awful to do such a thing to a child. But Melisandre had said it was a mistake, so perhaps it was unintentional. Balerion was the god who favored him, what god could be worse than that of death and ruler of the underworld?

"The god did not mean to… They merely wanted to see her better. Omnipresent as they may be, there are limits to their presence. The god wanted her to see them, to be happy with them… such a tragic thing that this god did not take into account the consequences of leading the child to the land they had cursed themselves… the punishment of blood magic."

There was a sense of fear in him. Would Balerion hurt him as well? Luke feared for it and yet he hoped that the benevolent god who had given him a second chance wouldn't curse him with such a fate. He trembles, wincing as he felt a presence looming over him.

Aerea had garnered the attention of a god without knowing, similar to Lucerys. She was led away from her home and returned worse than dead. Lucerys was being led away and he wondered if Balerion wanted him to suffer even more. He almost sobbed.

 "Which god loved her?" A whisper, a mere whisper. He speaks softly, not daring to offend whatever god had cursed Aerea. What if it's Balerion? The questions stuck to his head, forcing him to gulp.

Melisandre takes a moment to answer him. Her blood red eyes fluttered shut before she placed her gaze upon him.  The red priestess looks at him with assurance in her gaze, as if the god she spoke of would not hurt him. Was it not Balerion? He felt thankful.

But the name that leaves her lips makes him freeze.

"The god of war… Vhagar. "

Chapter Text

Lucerys is asleep.

He dreams of clouds, he dreams of wind. He dreams of holding on to the reins of Arrax's saddle and smiling as he soared through the sky. He grins, ecstatic that he was free at last. Yet, there was this lingering dread that refused to leave him. It made him falter, questioning his decisions as he looked down upon the ocean beneath him.

And the peace crumbles.

The scene changes and Lucerys is back in the storm. He has no control of his body, he has no control of his dragon. He is silent, horrified as he is forced to live this torture once again. Thunder crashes through his ears and Lucerys feels like he has been blinded. Lightning flashes before his eyes and for a moment… all is just white. 

And there's a roar.

One so frighteningly familiar that he was ripped away from his own paralysis and he moves. He tries to break free from the saddle and tries to jump, to save himself. But it's too late. Another roar is heard and all Lucerys remembers is falling into the sea and drowning. He remembers his broken body, watching as his own blood floats through the water.

He hears Aemond’s voice. 

Then Vhagar appears—

Lucerys dreams of floating.

He is once again trapped in a timeless state, unable to move until he hears voices. One so familiar that his breath hitches.

"You are a fool." The voice says, not to him.

"You needn't taunt me for my mistakes, Balerion! I am merely stating facts that your favor towards this boy is dangerous." This one was unfamiliar.

Again, Balerion spoke. "I am not so stupid to lead him to the heart of doom. I am the god of death Vhagar and you may have failed to keep your little one safe, but I will protect mine."

Vhagar, the other voice, scoffed. "By leading him to old Valyria? Are you mad?!"

With what little strength he had, Lucerys tilted his head to see robed figures yelling at each other. One wore pitch black and the other red. Yet both exude ethereal presence that made him want to choke.

"You think I wouldn't protect him? You think I wouldn't make sure that child lives after all I've done?! You fucking bastard, I didn't send him to Essos and come to Valyria for my own desires! I sent him to Essos to live, not to sacrifice him to the doom we produced!" Balerion yelled, "I care for that mortal more than you did with Aerea."

Vhagar, the god of war that had cursed Aerea Targaryen with his love, bristled at that. He clenched and unclenched his fist and the two gods looked ready to fight. Lucerys didn't want that.

He didn't want Balerion to get hurt.

He doesn't want to hurt me, he thinks and wants to sob. Balerion didn't want to hurt him, not like Vhagar did with Aerea. 

"And then what? You'll just let him go? You'll just let him run away like you had him do with his family? Oh please. Among us gods, you are one of the greediest." Vhagar snarled, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at the god of death.

Lucerys sighs quietly as he feels delicate hands card through his hair.

Balerion looked furious. "I am not so selfish— unlike you! I want that boy to be safe and happy. You think I've done all this just for him to suffer? Well whatever intelligence you may possess, it is useless." He spits out and huffs. It seemed childish but Lucerys could see how angry Balerion truly was. 

There was an indescribable kind of protectiveness in his eyes, a possessiveness that he seemed to try and restrain. Lucerys quietly sighed to himself, whimpering quietly as he tried to speak. But he can’t. He had lost his voice again, almost exactly like the first few moons that he was with Balerion.

Ever so weakly did Lucerys try to move his head and nearly groaned. He squints his eyes for a moment, and hears a small giggle. His eyes land upon a woman, wearing a veil similar to that of the one Balerion used to wear. But Lucerys could see her smile, so gentle and bright yet filled with cruelty that made him shiver.

At first, she seemed so delicate and gentle, but now that Lucerys looked carefully, he shuddered to look at her. The word ‘Danger’ screamed in his mind as he tried to move, but once again, he could not. But neither could he shift his eyes from the veiled woman that had a beauty he didn't know how she possessed.

There was cruelty in her smile as she cupped his cheek and grinned. A vicious grin upon her red lips, and once she spoke, Lucerys heard a melody go through his ears. It was serene and lovely, yet at the same time it seemed shrill and frigid. He wanted to run away from the woman who was clearly dangerous, clearly a threat to his life.

“Sweet boy.” She says with a sing-song tone and leans down.

Suddenly he can’t breathe again.

“Meleys!”

So you’re Meleys… the goddess of Love that Grandmother’s Dragon was named after, Luke’s mind returns to the image of Rhaenys’ dragon.

Yet, he was forcefully ripped away from the goddess’ hold and he froze. He turned and saw het another cloaked figure, this time, wearing white. Luke could hear a vicious snarl from them, glaring at the goddess and holding him tight. You’re not Balerion.

“What is he doing here?” He hears Vhagar growl and tilts his head to see Balerion fast approaching them.

“Arrax, why is his soul away from his body?” Balerion asks.

Arrax , Luke is frozen, The ruler of the gods.

Apparently Arrax (the same god he named his beloved dragon after), was concerned for him and once again glared at the goddess who had held him close.

“I wonder that as well. What are you doing with his soul?”

Meleys pouts, “Why are you blaming me? Go speak to Vermax or Caraxes if you want to know. I just saw the little thing appear.” She explains, huffing before she grins and pokes him.

Arrax once again moves away and sends a warning glare to the gods. “Balerion, help me return him.”

Luke wished Balerion would take him in his arms. He was more familiar with the god of death’s embrace rather than this one. As if the god could hear his thoughts (they most likely could), Arrax sighs quietly and hands him over to Balerion. He looks almost the same from the last time Luke saw him. 

The god smiles, “ Zaldrītsos , you mustn't stay here. I am sure that guardian priestess of yours is worried about how you refuse to wake.” He whispers before Luerys’ vision goes black. 

Lucerys wakes up to the scent of smoke.

He sits up immediately, panicking as he tries to look for the source of the flame. Had Melisandre kept a fire alive? Had she burned herself? Was Arrax running around causing trouble?

For a moment he falters to the name. A shiver goes up his spine, as the thought of the ruler of the gods arrives to his mind.

What had happened?

"You're awake?"

Lucerys jolts. He snaps his head towards the voice and calms down upon seeing Melisandre, the woman frowning at him. Distraught clouded her eyes as she waved her hand over the flame that she was controlling. Clearly, she was displeased by something, but Lucerys knew not of her concerns. He wishes he did. 

A roar echoed through the ruined house and Lucerys froze. Once again, he could not remove the sound of Vhagar's (the dragon) cry out of his head. It along with Arrax's roar were the last thing he heard before he crashed into the waves. Slowly, he tries to get up but Melisandre forces him down and glares at him.

"Sit, rest." She says, "Your soul left your body for a moment. I do not know how long it was for you, but it has been minutes for me." Pursing her lips, she closes her palm and the flames vanish. "One moment you were breathing and the next I felt the tether of your soul with your body… snap little by little. Then it healed. Child, what did you dream of?"

Moments of hesitation took over until Lucerys broke. "The gods…" he whispered, cautiously looking around. "Balerion and Vhagar were arguing… At the very least I now know that Balerion has no wish to harm me… and I find Goddess Meleys to be rather disconcerting." He admits, flinching away and snapping his head around as if the goddess would appear then and there.

Melisandre sighs in relief. "Thank R'hllor." She murmurs, "The Goddess of Love, Meleys has always been depicted to be a complicated god. Love is neither white nor black, it is gray. It can bring life and death."

Lucerys frowns, understanding little of Melisandre's words. But he sighs and glances out the broken window.

"How is Arrax?"

"He sensed your soul leaving and has been rather concerned." Melisandre helps him to his feet, "Go calm your bonded. You dragons have always been possessive creatures."

Lucerys couldn't agree more.

He found Arrax in a field of burnt grass, a feral look in his eyes. His dragon growled at his surroundings, scratching at the ground and spewing fire from its maw. Arrax seemed wild, untamed. Yet as Lucerys takes a cautious step forward, his dragon immediately calms and begins to behave properly.

" Lykirī. Rybās, Arrax. Iksan sȳrī.  Ȳdra daor sagon zūgagon." I am well. Don't be afraid. He whispers and holds Arrax gently.

He feels the heat of his dragon and sighs quietly. It had been long since they last flew without restraint the last time they did, Luke was running away from his tragic fate back in Westeros. He glanced towards Melisandre who holds a dark colored garment, confusing Luke. 

The red Priestess hums, offering him the cloth, a cloak . A questioning look is given to her by the prince.

"You do not intend to stay here forever, do you?" She asks with an amused look.

Lucerys turns a faint red. "No. But what am I to do Meli? I cannot just fly off with Arrax and go wherever I wish. I know that my family still seeks me…"

Almost three moons have already passed since Lucerys ran. Three moons without his mother, his brothers, his sister, his home. But he had Arrax, he had Melisandre, he had his life . He was alive and that was enough. Perhaps he may return in the future, but for now, Lucerys shall run until his fate has changed and the dance either never occurs or finally ends.

The red priestess hums, narrowing her crimson eyes at him. She pressed a delicate hand to his cheek and Lucerys shivers . Melisandre always had abnormally cold skin for a woman who lingered around fire for so long. Regardless, he tilts his head as she examines his face.

It was curious to see her often blank expression form into one of interest. She smiles and Lucerys tries to return it.

"We must give you a new name, my prince. Syt ao geron iā arlie path sir. " For you walk a new path now .

"A new name?"

"Yes of course. You cannot walk around telling people you are Lucerys Velaryon. Here in Essos, the name Velaryon is rather well known." Melisandre explains and ushers for him to put on the cloak.

"I know that… but what name?"

"Would you like me to choose for you?"

Lucerys flushed red. The thought of Melisandre giving him a name felt like a mother naming her child. Sheepishly, he nodded and let her choose.

"Blackfyre would be a wonderful surname." She says, with a knowing glint in her eyes. "It is a house founded by one of your family's future descendants."

"Blackfyre? Why would they have a different… ah." Lucerys falters. That painful reminder that he was not Laenor's trueborn son. He narrows his eyes at Melisandre who does not mind the pain in dark hues.

Lucerys sighs. Blackfyre, the name of a future Targaryen Bastard… I suppose it will be fitting . He groans, actually liking the sound of Blackfyre. It sounded intimidating, just as the very sword it was named after.

"Lucerys is too obvious. We shall change your first name as well."

"No— I…" he stuttered, "Just.. just don't change it completely. Any sort of variation from it will be enough."

Melisandre hummed, "What about Lucerion?"

"That sounds odd.."

"Tis the name of a dragon in the future I see… one of your descendants actually." 

Lucerys trips on air and almost faceplants to the ground. Once again he is shocked by the revelation. His descendants, she says and yet he refuses to believe it. Red priestess or not, Lucerys wasn't going to believe that he would actually have his own bloodline, let alone a child.

"I get married?" He whispers under his breath, absolutely incredulous to such a thing.

"Yes, yes. Now we must make haste my prince. We must make do of the horses I have lured from a nearby village." Melisandre gestures to the large horses she had apparently lured. "Come now my prince. To Pentos we shall ride."

Lucerys has sighed multiple times within that day, and once again he exhales such a thing. He hesitates to mount the horse but addresses Melisandre first.

"What of Arrax?"

The priestess glances towards the hostile dragon that seemed to glare at her. "Your Dragon cannot follow us. It will be obvious to your family of your location. For now, let your dragon roam. Your bond with him is stronger than the one you had before."

It only took a minute for Lucerys to return to Arrax's side. The cloak Melisandre gave him swayed with his movements as he caresses Arrax's white scales. " Gaomagon daor zūgagon.  Kesan amāzigon isse due jēda.  Sōvegon, yn ao daor sagon ūndegīon. " Do not be afraid. I will return in due time. Fly, but you cannot be seen. 

Lucerys whispers but a single request. Not a command, a request. " Sōvēs. " 

With great hesitation, Arrax takes a step back and spreads his wings. With one last look to the boy he bonded to, the Dragon took to the skies and Lucerys watched with despair in the pits of his stomach. He pursed his lips and pulled the hood over his face.

He mounts the horse and follows Melisandre in silence. 

To Pentos.

In Westeros, Aemond Targaryen is suffering at the hands of his uncle.

Daemon was ruthless as he trained the boy as if he were already a veteran. Yet Aemond does not cease and fights back. By the way, Aegon had been forced to fight Jacaerys, who was ready to bite the drunkard's head off. As the four princes fought, they earned a mass of attention from court ladies and lords, who were soon told to move on by faithful gold cloaks. 

As metal clashes against metal, Aemond struggles to keep his balance as Daemon mercilessly pushes him back. As if seeing his frustration, Daemon does not miss a beat and takes the chance to taunt the poor boy.

"Will you really look for my son when you are like this? Pathetic." He spits out and that is enough to cause the fire within Aemond to explode.

The subject of Lucerys had been a fragile thing within the family, but it was also a source of determination. Aemond especially had been driven to better his training at the thought of finally being permitted to fly to Essos and look for his nephew.

By now, the only ones in their family who could take their dragons and fly to Essos were Rhaenyra, Daemon, and Rhaenys. Nike of the newer generation of dragon riders were allowed to take to the skies just yet.

"Shut your mouth old man." Aemond snaps, parrying Daemon's blade. "Watch me be the one to find him."

Aemond wanted to find his nephew out of the goodness in his heart… was what the boy wanted to say. He really did want to find Lucerys, but because he was good? No. That would be a lie.

For the past month, Aemond has been plagued with dreams, nightmares of a boy with a smile brighter than the sun and a gaze so affectionate that you could melt in it. He dreams of a boy who showers his dragon in love, and a boy who would take the skies with him. Alas, they are but dreams. 

Dreams they may be, but Aemond was determined to make them truer than the sun itself.

He wanted to find Lucerys. To fly through the skies — the same way they promised to when they were children. He would find Lucerys and they would fulfill every little dream, little promise they made as children and they would be happy. Aemond swears it.

"Then work harder…" Daemon snaps but softens, "So we may find him at last."

Aemond was bested, as the young man groaned and snarled to himself. Daemon was a better teacher than Cole could ever be but he was ruthless in ways Cole would never dare. Daemon is the rogue prince for a reason and Aemond would surpass him one day.

The boy eyes the valyrian Steel blade his uncle was given by the king Jaehaerys. Queen Visenya's sword, Dark sister. Aemond wanted it.

"Seems as though your brother has finally gotten the hang of it."

Aemond turns towards Aegon, who struggles to fight against Jace. Years of being trained by Daemon seemed to do well for their nephew, who didn't even hesitate to push back Aegon. The older prince grit his teeth and tried to fight back, but his sword was inevitably knocked down from his hand.

The tip of the blade was pressed against his neck and Jace scowled at him.

"What the hell happened? You used to beat the shit out of me when we were children." Jace says, a clear visage of disappointment in his eyes.

Aegon frowns, "That was a long time ago." He says, melancholy in his voice.

Jace grunted, "Not long enough." Without another word, Jacaerys shoves the sword into the hands of the closest knight and marches away — leaving Aegon to wallow.

Lucerys disappearance had greatly affected Rhaenyra's golden boy. Once sweet and righteous turned cold and angry. The prince hadn't gone a day without taking his anger out on something — oftentimes in someone. Rumors had fluttered from Dragonstone to King's Landing of how Prince Jacaerys had nearly ordered Vermax to burn down a forest during one of their searches.

Cruelty was the only thing in the Prince's heart with his younger brother gone. But with such cruelty was the lack of slanderous words towards the Velaryon boys. Not a word of their legitimacy was uttered when even the Queen started shutting them down. 

Later on, the new generation of Targaryens would find themselves in the library, trying to figure out any possible reason why Lucerys had vanished. It wasn't until Baela spoke that they (Aemond, Jacaerys, Aegon, and Rhaena) found something of importance.

"Helaena speaks of the gods when Lucerys is mentioned. I asked her why and all she spoke was how his soul was greatly loved by one." Baela explained, flipping through a book before frowning and putting it back.

"What?" Aegon asked, "What the hell does that mean?"

Baela shrugged, "I don't know. It sounds as if Luke caught the attention of the gods and was led away from Westeros."

"You honestly believe that?"

"No… but it sounds reasonable, believe it or not."

Jace frowned and set his book aside. He contemplates on what Baela stated and tries to remember the time before Lucerys vanished. It had been an odd period of time, that's for sure. 

For a few weeks, Lucerys had been distant and wandered aimlessly. There was this foggy look on his face that seemed to put him in a permanent daze. He didn't act normally and some servants even claimed to have seen him walking around the gardens in the middle of the night, doing nothing but bask in moonlight.

But Jacaerys freezes as he remembers a moment where Lucerys had been found in the library of dragonstone, muttering about old Valyria and the gods. Luke had been engrossed in a book and hadn't even noticed him until Jace had poked his shoulder.

Before that, his brother was murmuring in high Valyrian and did nothing but focus on the tales of the gods in his book.

"Maybe he was… led astray by a god."

Rhaena frowns at him, "Jace, that is ridiculous. It's stupid."

"Not when Lucerys was weird for days before he disappeared. He wasn't his usual self and he kept hiding in the library or speaking to the Maesters about something." Jace stands up, a painful realization he's come to. "He was so damn curious about the gods of old Valyria and nobody knew why."

Baela goes stiff, "I thought he was just curious since our dragons were named after them."

"And Lucerys' dragon is named after the ruler of the gods." Aemond states and finally comes to understand why Helaena keeps mentioning the gods.

They all meet eyes before Jace storms out of the library, about to go to Helaena for more answers. They all follow him and then they find themselves in the girls chambers. Helaena was stitching something and she didn't even care to look at them, but as Aemond and Baela peered over her shoulder, their eyes went wide.

Their dreamer was embroidering a white dragon onto a red cloth, and carefully — she poked her needle into the dragon's eye with a golden thread.

"Not one but two." She whispers, "Thread of gold, thread of red — the boy once drowned favored by gods." 

She finishes her stitching and meets their eyes, "Gods have no favorites but he is theirs."

Pentos was a bustling hub of a city with numerous square towers and people who sang and drank as happily as they could.

But Lucerys frowned at the crowded streets that were practically home to multiple merchants and other individuals who practiced the art of trade. He stayed close to Melisandre, keeping his head down and his hood over his face. He wasn't going to risk his life just because Melisandre insisted upon going to the city. 

Daemon and the twins resided in Pentos for a time and Lucerys was willing to bet that he had spies there as well. Lucerys would be seen and Daemon himself would drag him back to Westeros.

He couldn't let that happen.

Wary of all the strangers, Lucerys stuck close to Melisandre, along with occasional glances to the sky. Arrax would not follow them, Lucerys had ordered him for such. He couldn’t risk the Pentoshi seeing his dragon and then reporting it to his family. He would be lucky to know that someone had seen Arrax, but not anywhere near Lucerys’ current location. A bit of misconception would be well done.

He had almost lost Melisandre in his thoughts, hurrying back to her side as she slipped into an alley and into a rather extravagant building. Luke had the urge to run away from it, but as Melisandre halted, she turned to him with her piercing red gaze and ushered him into the building. With whatever courage Lucerys had, he followed.

Lucerys knew not of where he was but he smelled heavy perfume in the place. Many people were within the building, slipping into rooms and wearing chiffon clothing — and thus he froze in realization of where he was.

“Why are we in a brothel?”

Melisandre chuckled at his reddened face, as Lucerys hid his face behind his hood. The red priestess merely speaks to one of the women, someone who looked to be in a higher position than the rest. 

“Come now… we are not here to indulge ourselves. I merely wish to speak to an old friend of mine.” Melisandre states and quickly leads him away from the obscenities of men and women committing to their sexual activities. Lucerys wanted to run and cry.

As they ascend to the uppermost floor of the building, Melisandre quietly hums again and opens a door and they are greeted by a woman wearing a dark purple veil on the bottom half of her face. Her black hair had ornaments decorating it along with pale skin in contrast to the dark purple clothing she wore. But Lucerys froze as he gazed into lilac eyes.

“Nilora.” Melisandre greets with a little laugh, “Wonderful to see you my dear.”

Nilora silently scrutinized Melisandre with her gaze before silently gesturing to the seats. She sat opposite to the two as Melisandre removed her hood while Lucerys stayed quiet.

“What brings you here?” Nilora asked, turning her gaze to Lucerys, “and with a boy so young.”

“I am this boy’s guardian.” Melisandre explains. “Nilora, this is Lucerion Blackfyre. Lucerion, Nilora, an informant of mine and the mistress of this fine establishment.”

Lucerys would most likely agree but he was still adjusting to the new name he had gotten. Thankfully, it wasn't far from his real name.  

“Now, about the daggers we spoke of last time.”

Nilora nodded, crossing the room towards a drawer and taking out a black box. She set it down on the box on the table between them and returned her hands to her lap. Melisandre smiled, satisfied as she removed the lid. 

Inside the box were four daggers, all shimmering under the little light that slipped into the room. She takes one into her hands and carefully examines it, before handing it to Lucerys.

“Valyrian steel.” She tells him with a smile.

Lucerys marvels the dagger in his hand, quietly trailing his finger from the base of the blade to the very tip. Awed, he stares at it for a moment before hastily returning it to Melisandre. Yet the priestess refused.

“No need. It is yours.” She claims, gesturing to the blades, “All of it is yours.”

Lucerys was flabbergasted but overtime, he had learned not to fight with Melisandre when it came to gifts. “Where did you find these?”

But Nilora shakes her head, “That is not something I shall disclose.”

He frowns, disappointed but understanding. As the meeting ends, Melisandre leads him out the brothel with four Valyrian steel daggers hidden in his person. He would have to learn how to use them properly, as the experience he had with blades was not so good. Even with memories of his past life, he still struggled to adapt to his current body. 

“That woman… she had beautiful eyes.”

Melisandre chuckles, “She is of Valyrian descent. Although her Valyrian blood is not as potent as yours, thus she has never been able to bond with a dragon.”

But Lucerys merely frowns. For a woman who was of Valyrian descent generations back, she still had their eyes. And yet — Lucerys whose mother was a Targaryen, received not their silver hair nor their amethyst eyes. 

If house Blackfyre was founded by a Targaryen Bastard, then he shall become one.

Chapter Text

When stormclouds shrouded the sky, people fled from the streets and hid in their homes. This was a logical thing to do, but one mysterious woman walks the empty and hollow streets under such dark skies. She doesn't miss a beat as thunder roars, and all she does as keep her gaze forward. No one dares to peek out their homes to catch a glimpse of the woman, for fear their souls may be sucked into her red gaze. No one dared, not even the stupidest of boys who thought themselves brave.

Melisandre does not hesitate to near one house and knock. It only takes a moment for the door to open to reveal a gruff looking man.

"My lady…" he whispers, keeping his gaze downward.

"Jaeros," she says with a blank face. "Let me in boy, before I am to be drenched by the wretched rain."

Jaeros rolls his eyes, allowing the red priestess to enter his home. It should be seen as a bad omen, but Melisandre would do no such thing with the current situation.

"How is he?" She asks, shedding her hood.

"Exhausted. The boy is hellbent on learning how to fight." Jaeros replies.

Melisandre hums, not even caring to speak further as she examined the cozy home. Although the subtle scent of alcohol irked her nose, she could not blame Jaeros for his desire for wine. Such times would have you wishing you were drunk out of your mind.

"Our Prince is determined." She states and takes a seat. She stared at Jaeros, refusing to look away.

"Of course. The brat does well with a sword but his talent lies with daggers. He can throw them as if they weigh nothing." He scoffed and takes the other seat. "Shot his daggers into the poor fellow who called you a whore the other day."

Melisandre snorts.

"Vicious child." She says, "Once again, I must thank you. Your capability to teach Lucerion is impressive with how stubborn he's become."

Jaeros Hesten — the very man Melisandre had befriended years ago and had assigned to be Lucerys' teacher. A good mercenary he once was, deadly in his own right. Although with his status, he was still trustworthy in the eyes of the red priestess. Jaeros had been a good friend of hers since he had been but a boy of six and ten. Although he was now a full grown man, Melisandre still retained her youthful looks.

She grins, amused by the bothered look on his face. Lucerys Velaryon — currently known as Lucerion Blackfyre to the world — was a stubborn boy who refused to work with strangers until he got to know them. Although it was a reasonable choice, Lucerys' desire to get to know Jaeros was his wariness of possible assassination. The boy was somewhat paranoid but she applauded him for it. 

It has been a almost a year since he ran from Westeros, a year since they first met. Even then, Lucerys had changed. He was a boy of fourteen, the perfect balance of selfish and generous. He feared for his life and ran yet he still cares for his family from afar. Somewhat hypocritical if Melisandre could admit. But that made the boy even more interesting.

"He went to Volantis a few weeks ago… I bet it was to buy you a gift but didn't find one good enough." Jaeros says, a bitterness in his voice.

Melisandre chuckles, "Do you envy him?"

"Admittedly, yes. You care for him more than you did me. As a child, you simply let me be and appeared without any notice. Yet you provide him with so much even though he asks for nothing." Jaeros admits and sighs.

Melisandre was older than him, cared for him as a child, but she didn't treat him the same she did with Lucerys — Lucerion to him. She hadn't been a mother figure, she was more of an observer and an acquaintance that seemed to be a mentor. But with Lucerys, she cared deeply for the stubborn and quiet boy — almost the complete opposite of Jaeros' younger self.

"I was fated to meet the child and care for him. My Lord wishes me to be his guardian and thus I am…" she whispers and stands up. "Do not let such envy and bitterness affect your treatment towards that boy, Jaeros. He has done nothing against you."

Jaeros nodded, "I know… he's grown on me and I can understand why you are so fond of him."

That little comment satisfied Melisandre greatly. Though, with the Prince's initially gloomy nature, Lucerys was lovable soul. She could vaguely understand why the gods are so fond of him, and so she did her duty and kept the boy safe and mentored him as much as she could. For the Lord of Light to find some value to the child, she would care for him as her own.

She left Jaeros to his own devices and slipped into the room currently used by said prince. She knocks twice before entering, and she sees Lucerys on the bed and a dagger in hand. Their eyes met and Melisandre found herself impressed. 

The naive look the prince once had was now gone. Destroyed and banished from his entire being as the caution in his eyes holds close. For a moment he stiffens, before he relaxes at the sight of her and silently nods.

"Meli…" he whispers, smiling quietly.

Melisandre chuckles, sitting on the side of the bed as she placed a hand against the princes cheek. It had been weeks since she last saw him, letters having been exchanged between the two as she dealt with other issues regarding her duties as a priestess. But Lucerys was her first priority for now.

"You look well. Your ciphers have become rather complex. I had difficulty reading your last letter." She explains, "Good."

Lucerys smiles. "So you did get it. Is that why your here?"

"Yes. And no. The issue you have broached is indeed a subject of concern but I have returned to you as I have promised. Remember, my prince — I shall return to you until the end of your life." She vows and presses their forehead together.

"Thank you."

Although stubborn and hotheaded for a child so meek, Lucerys had always been soft spoke to those he cared for. He was always gentle and kind to his friends and family, treating them care as they have treated him. Lucerys did live by the mentality of treating people the same way they treat him.

Melisandre hums, taking the letter he had sent days ago from a pocket she had on her dress. She reads it again, smiling to herself. Certain letters were written differently from the rest — the pen was pressed harder into the parchment, the letters were spaced a bit farther, or they were slightly slanted. Either way, Lucerys had purposefully made his handwriting seem horrid to make sure no one would notice, unless you knew him well enough. He had perfectly disguised the message with absolute nonsense in his letter.

M elisandre,

Nothing has been easy since yo u 've left. S o far, my t raining has go ne well. Jaeros has been harsh but he is fair to me. He's v ery mean s o metimes. I have to wake up early in the morning l est he douses me with cold w a ter. Why ca n ' t he understand that not everyone is as brilliant as you.

But I'm doing w e ll if you'd like to know. So much has happened since you've left. A few days after you left, a thief was caught stealing the Prince of Pentos' wine. And Jaeros caught the idiot. Not that he didn't have help f r om me. But you did say not to cause trouble or place attention on myself. I truly did behave and and didn't tell Jaeros.

It's okay. Jaeros doesn't have to know why it was so easy to find the thief (I tripped the idiot when they were running away.)

But I hope you are well…

From, Luke.

Melisandre smiled to herself.

Must go to Volantis. Meet Saera and Naeryn. Jaeros doesn't have to know why. 

"So he knew you went to Volantis but didn't know why. Should I be concerned?" She asked, smiling thoughtful as she burned the paper. 

Lucerys shook his head, "He didn't know I met with Saera." He whispered, glancing at his door and twirling the dagger between his fingers. "Great Aunt Saera made sure he was distracted whilst we spoke."

"It's quite interesting that we managed to track the infamous Saera Targaryen, along with her dearest grandchildren." Melisandre smirked.

A few months ago, she had brought Lucerys to Volantis during a mission to find someone who could help Lucerys in a certain thing he lacked — wealth. At the moment, the prince did not have that much money and Melisandre had strived to find someone who could teach him of it. And she found none other than Saera Targaryen, although old in her sixties, she was intrigued by the boy and agreed to teach him.

Saera owned a peculiar business that Lucerys did not involve himself in, aside from the occasional visits to special brothels that secretly provided information for the right price. The only other owner of a brothel he was mildly comfortable with was Nilora, and even then, Lucerys avoided them like the plague.

Melisandre was rather thankful that Saera was not to harsh on Lucerys. She supposed that whatever guilt Saera carried had affected her choices. The exiled princess had bullied her sister Daella so much in the past that in her seniority, she began to regret her actions. It proved well that Lucerys looked like his grandmother Aemma, who looked almost exactly like Daella.

"What did little Naeryn say?"

Naeryn, the youngest daughter of Saera's youngest daughter. She was the same age as Lucerys and a sweet girl who did not involve herself in her grandmother's business. Like all of Saera's children and grandchildren, Naeryn was not an automatic member of her pleasure house. Saera was human enough not to subject her children to such a fate unless they actually wished to do so, and even then — Saera Targaryen did her best to stop her children from entering her pleasure house.

"Like usual, Naeryn doesn't go anywhere near Saera's brothel and hides out in the library with her elder brother, Aenar."

"It's quite nice to know that there are still some Targaryens in the world."

"Yes… exiled and living in brothels." Lucerys scoffs.

Though he may tolerate Saera as a member of his family, he was still greatly displeased with her occupation. He had no right to judge her, neither did he condemn her for her actions. Lucerys merely disliked going to brothels — the thought of sex wasn't something he often thought of.

"What did you two speak of?" 

"Nothing much," he shrugs, "Saera kept lecturing me on my future occupation. She recommended me possible jobs I could work, although they were based of the information she has in me. She actually suggested forming an information guild."

"Oh really… I suppose you would do well with such."

Melisandre contemplates upon such an occupation. Lucerys was physical fourteen but mentally he was around seventeen, at the very least, three years older than he actually is. However, even with such difficulties, the boy had a talent to securing information.

He was quiet and was capable of lowering his presence to eavsedrop on anyone he wishes. He had been the one to order his dragon to fly the opposite direction to where he currently was and Melisandre had heard of Arrax being sighted in the Dothraki Sea — a perfect distraction to where he actually was.

Perhaps Saera had a point.

"We shall discuss this more later. For now, I must speak to you about your family."

Lucerys stiffened, but he straightened his posture and listened intently to Melisandre.

"Your family has been united due to your disappearance, it has been solidified now." She explains and sees his eyes brighten, "However, they are looking for you even more. Princess Baela has just been allowed to join her father on his search for you, as Moondancer is now big enough for such a flight. Thankfully, Prince Jacaerys is too occupied with his duties as heir to the throne while Rhaena is now adjusting to her role as future Lady of Tides."

Lucerys was absolutely ecstatic. Rhaena was going to be Lady of the Tides! If he could return, he wouldn't hesitate to congratulate his beloved stepsister. But he falters as he listens to how even Baela was now part of the search. Melisandre's escapades were often driven by the need to distract his family from his actual location.

"About your brother…"

"Jace?"

Melisandre nods. A grin expression forms on her face as she bears him bad news, "Your brother has become more aggressive since your disappearance. There had been the chance of him and his dragon burning down a forest near the reach trying to look for you."

But Melisandre knew that Prince Jacaerys wasn't the actual problem. It was Prince Aemond, the one who had killed Lucerys. Aemond had been so much more worse than Jacaerys, often seen flying over Westeros with the great beast who had bitten off a piece of Arrax and Lucerys. The prince and his dragon were scouring Westeros for a hint of Lucerys and the only reason why he hasn't been deployed to find Lucerys was the fact he would be ruthless with it.

The Queen Alicent and Princess Rhaenyra had kept Aemond at bay to restrain him, force him to keep his emotions intact and to be calm during the entire search. Still, Melisandre would not doubt that Lucerys himself would panic at the knowledge that Aemond was eager to look for him.

So she keeps silent and only speaks of his siblings.

"I see… Should I fake my death?"

"Don't even think about it."

"If I send Arrax to King's Landing without me—"

"No."

Lucerys pouts but yields to her choice.

Melisandre cards her fingers through his hair and Lucerys leans into her. He rests his head on her shoulder, nuzzles into the crook of her neck and smiles. The comforting atmosphere was capable of lulling him to sleep as Melisandre holds him close.

"Sleep well dear prince."

If you told Lucerys a year ago that he would be running of to Volantis for one of their most infamous Pleasure Houses, he would have gone crying to his mother. Yet here he was, walking beside Melisandre in his favorite black cloak to meet with one of his exiled relatives. He had been somewhat familiar with Volantis by now, although rather cautious due to the triarchy.

This time, it was him leading rather than Melisandre. She seemed to be amused at him finally taking charge as he pushed through the crowd and slipped into one of the narrow alleys. He paused for a moment, glancing at the hungry looking citizens that eyed him like meet. Lucerys grabbed Melisandre's wrist and pushed exited the alley and into a building.

Knocking on the door three times, pause, two, pause, than two again. The door swing open and what greeted them was a man with copper hair and dark eyes. He eyed Lucerys for a moment before a grin split across his face.

"Blackfyre." He grinned but Luke only glared.

"Where's Saera?" He immediately asked, snapping at the man.

"Grumpy much." The man grumbled, but opened the gap wider, "The Lady is on the third floor, her office."

Luke sighed, nodding as he and Melisandre rushed up the steps. He walked faster once he was on the second floor, almost puking at the intense scent of perfume, sweat, and other substances he'd rather not speak of. As soon as he was on the third floor, he stomped towards the end of the hall, Saera's office, and banged his fists on the door. 

"Please let me in! I can't stand the smell of— of—" he really was about to puke. As he slammed his fist on the door, said door was pulled open and he almost hit the ground. He glared at the woman sitting behind the desk, old as she may be, her beauty was immortal. But his glare moved towards the boy with silver hair, a darker shade than the woman's, and stared into his violet eyes.

"Aenar."

"Lucerion or should I say Lucerys."

" Rion , not Rys."

Lucerys sighed, refusing to look at Melisandre for his own embarrassment. He pats his clothes for any dust that may have been accumulated in the cloth and quickly closes the door. He breaths a sigh of relief, thankful that the scent of debauchery did not enter the room for whatever magical reason.

But he fixes his gaze back on the old woman counting her money, a smirk on her face.

"Great-great Aunt Saera." Lucerys says in a cocky tone. Saera never did like to acknowledge her age, and having called her great-great Aunt was a blow to her ego.

The exiled princess scowled at him, crossing her arms over her chest as she glances towards her grandson who simply reads a book on the corner.

"Brat."

"Old hag."

Melisandre chuckles. Over time, Lucerys had lost a bit of his meekness when it came to the exiled Targaryens. If Saera called him a brat than he would not hesitate to call her an old hag.

"Hmph! What have you come here for? It has only been a week since I had to deal with your displeasing presence." Saera drawls, adding a dramatic sigh as she places a hand over her forehead. Aenar giggles.

Lucerys merely rolls his eyes, glancing at his supposed cousin? He didn't really know but he was sure they were related. "About your suggestion… the information guild."

Saera pauses with her dramatics, smiles and leans against her desk. The wrinkles upon her face did not do anything to her beauty as she grins at him, her hands intertwined as her violet gaze pierces through his very soul.

"Oh? Did you convince him?" She asks Melisandre.

"He didn't need much convincing. My prince is merely in denial of his own talents." Melisandre laughs, earning herself a half-hearted glare from the very prince she spoke of. "But I do agree with you. Lucerion is well suited for gathering information due to his talents. My concerns are how he will be able to make his guild."

Saera hummed, glancing back to her grandson. "Aenar, go find your sister." She tells her grandson who groans and sets his book down. Although he seemed to pout, Aenar dutifully follows his grandmother's orders.

"Let's check out the fighting ring later." Aenar whispers to Lucerys, grinning before he runs out the room.

With only the three of them left, any further discussions of a potential guild founded by Lucerys were done.

First of all, Lucerys would like to acknowledge the fact that he only wants to form an information guild because of his own concerns. He knew that Melisandre was not forver for him, and though he would despair her leaving, he knew it was inevitable. She was his source of information and once she is gone, he's struggle with the lack of her presence. So the information guild was merely a step to him getting used to the thought of Melisandre being absent.

Second of all, he wanted to help his family even from afar. Information was vital in their survival and keeping tabs on the Hightowers would be useful. If the fact that someone was going to attempt an assassination on anyone in his family existed, it would immediately be brought to Luke and he would find a way to stop it. 

And last but not least, he wanted money. They were running out and Lucerys didn't want to go running to Saera for it.

Lucerys listened intently until they all came to an agreement. Saera would help establish his guild and once it becomes successful, Lucerys would be able to pay for all the costs she has made. How they were assured the plan would succeed was due to Melisandre's confidence in such, especially her being a red priestess. Although Lucerys was still confused as to why he was agreeing to this, he knew it would be useful in the future.

Lucerys of all people knew the value of information. Had he known Aemond was already in Storm's end in the past, his mother would have never sent him there. Had they been informed of the king's death earlier on, his mother would not have been usurped.

Knowledge was a requirement for his own survival. If he needed to form a guild for it then he was more than willing to outlive Jaehaerys himself.

"Would you be willing to work with me after the guild is established?" He boldly asked Saera. The two women turned to him, surprised at his question but Lucerys did not move his gaze from his great aunt. Saera grinned, thrilled to see him a bit more confident than usual.

"My, my~ the Zaldrītsos is finally showing some backbone." Saera laughs cruelly, "You amuse me, taoba. But I expect extra from you if I do agree." She grins and offers her hand to him. Lucerys does not hesitate to take it.

It was like he had made a deal with the devil, but then again, Lucerys danced with death. 

"Good boy. Now go." She waved him away, "Aenar and Naeryn have been lurking outside that door for far too long."

Lucerys blinked in surprise, before he pulled the door open. Aenar stumbled into the room along with his younger sister Naeryn. Like Aenar, Naeryn had silver-blonde hair that was a few shades darker than Saera's. Both were owners of violet eyes that shimmered under the light.

"Naeryn." Lucerys murmured, smiling at the girl as he helped her to her feet. Naeryn smiled, thankful before she giggled and hooked their arms together.

Aenar rolled his eyes, but took to Naeryn's other arm.

The girl smiled, "It's nice to see you again, Rion."

Lucerys chuckled. It was hard to forget the girl who had dropped her books on his head during their first meeting. Such a sweet girl had been running around the brothel, trying to find her missing books until she accidentally stumbled and dropped some of the books out the balcony, landing in Luke's poor head.

Her brother Aenar had been there, laughed at his misfortune and earned a scathing glare from Luke. The first few times of their friendship were hectic. Lucerys and Aenar glaring at each other, while Naeryn was trying to hide behind her books. Aenar was a year older than Luke while Naeryn was a year younger. The three had been rather hostile or uninterested in one another until they became as thick as thieves.

Although Naeryn was still witness to a few quarrels between the boys, and oftentimes it ended with one chasing the other. Still, Lucerys was happy to have met these two.

"Let's go! I heard some idiots betted on the new mercenary." Aenar grinned and desperately tried to drag Luke away.

"I don't want to watch people kill each other." Naeryn complained whilst trying to drag both Luke and her brother away.

And this was the rare moment where it was Naeryn fighting with Aenar rather than Luke. The only thing Lucerys could do is sigh and suggest they go lingering around the port.

A few months ago… 

"Meli, do I really have to stay?" Lucerys asked as he tried to convince Melisandre to let him go. Speaking to Saera Targaryen was intimidating and he couldn't handle the woman's presence all too much. Neither did he want to stay in the brothel. 

Melisandre sighed, nodding as she allowed him to stand and leave the room. He knew Saera was watching him but quietly listened as she and Melisandre resumed their conversation. All Luke wanted to do was get away from the pleasure house immediately. The scent of sex was driving him mad and easily made him ill. The perfumes of different prostitutes mixed in the air and once he was out, he pinched his nose.

Groaning as he tried to remove the smell from his being, he didn't notice footsteps from the second floor and the sound of a girl screaming. But once he did, several books had dropped on his head and he yelped in pain. As he held his head, he hissed at being assaulted by a bunch of books before glaring up at the person who had dropped them on him.

He froze as he saw a girl with silver hair and purple eyes looking down on him with worry. She was red in the face, embarrassed before she yelled out a desperate apology. 

"I'm so sorry! I'm really sorry!" She yelled, before her eyes landed on the books. "Oh my precious books!" She yelled, devastated at the sight of them on the ground.

Lucerys noticed laughter, and a boy around his age came stumbling out to the balcony, cackling at his misfortune.

Lucerys decided that he didn't like those two… 

Until they became his best friends.

Chapter Text

Cold hands held his own and their bodies swayed together. Smoke and ash flew around them as the ruined and destroyed lands burned. Neither stopped as the heat grew to be too much, continuing on with this dance of theirs — the crackle of lightning and the sound of fire in their melody.

Balerion gazes into dark yet gleaming eyes that were once dull and dead. He smiled, pulling the boy closer to him as they waltz through the ruins of Old Valyria. The very land that they punished for its people who performed blood magic to transcend to godhood.

"Did you like my gift?"

Balerion whispers as he tilts their bodies to one side of the destructive lands. He grows silent, hoping for the other to speak. Such a wonderful tainted by grief, sadness, fear, and anger, yet it retains a sense of purity that brings comfort to the god of death.

He wanted to breathe it in and revel in the purity of the soul that may cleanse his entire being. Alas, he bitterly thinks with a smile, you are not mine. 

"I love it." Lucerys finally speaks and Balerion wishes to drown within his voice.

The god sighs and rests his head into the crook of Lucerys neck. He feels the boy move, before his body vibrates with a laugh. And only then did Balerion allow his eyes to close.

In Lucerys' eyes, he sees a man with long black hair and red eyes. With arms covered with black scales until his elbows and a tall stature. Lucerys cannot imagine his face, but Balerion would take any appearance for this boy who he has been fond of for years.

Since the moment his dragon hatched when he was three moons old, Balerion had been fascinated by Lucerys. The cause of the dance of dragons. The boy who was destined to either be the unity or division of his family. The boy whose fate was to either bring prosperity to the Targaryens or be its ruination. Such irony had always amused Balerion, and thus he had kept an eye on the child until he was brought from Caraxes arms to his.

"Use it well…" Balerion murmurs. Admittedly, his grip on Lucerys did tighten for a moment as he moved away to take a good look at the young man's face. "Do you know the name of your gift?" 

Lucerys smiles, shaking his head as he leans forward. Balerion's breath hitches and he closes his eyes for a moment. He didn't dare keep them closed, looking the other in the eyes as he spoke.

"Tell me." Lucerys demands with a cheeky grin. 

They dance around the ruins and neither mind the destruction. They only see each other.

" Reaper's ruin. "

Lucer chuckles, "Did you name it after yourself? That sounds cute."

Balerion smiles, "It is my gift to you. Of course it's named after me. Reaper for short." He insists and presses their forehead together. As cold as he may be, he enjoyed warmth.

Lucerys' soul had always been comforting with a soft warmth that would hug Balerion.

"Hm… why did you choose that name?" He asks.

Balerion falters for a moment but his smile spreads. His eyes shine with adoration and all he can think of is the reason why he named that sword.

"You will have your retribution… and I will always be there for you every step of the way. Such retribution cause the ruination of your enemies."

And the dream ends.

Lucerys opens his eyes to such a wondrous dream. He presses a hand against his chest, feeling his heart beating. Dreams such as that always meant his soul left his body, a moment of stasis that made people think he was dead. He wasn't, but he was quite literally in the arms of death.

He hears a knock and sits up.

"Who is it?" His voice was hoarse, rubbing his eyes as he glanced out the window, the curtains obscuring the light.

"Lucerion?" He hears Naeryn, "We've just received word about an issue regarding your stepsister, Rhaena."

A wry smile spreads across his face as he abandons his bed and tells Naeryn to wait for him. It had been a long time since he received information about his family. Not after the fiasco with their discovery of a living Laenor Velaryon with his lover Qarl Corey running around in Braavos. Although Lucerys didn't engage with his father, he silently kept tabs in the man — although he has this everlasting urge to stab both men for his trauma and despair.

He laughs to himself, "So Vaemond still continues on with his stupidity. I do wonder how Rhaena will deal with it."

It didn't take long for him to exit his room, descending the stairs to be met with the expectant gazes of his companions. Aenar filing through stacks of paper, scowling at them. The young man glared at him, silently demanding for his immediate presence while his sister sighed and inspected the papers her brother had haphazardly tossed into a stack. She smiles tiredly at him, nodding in acknowledgement.

On the other hand, Melisandre was being served tea by Jaeros — the swellsword who was now under his employment smiled thoughtfully, nodding as his greeting. But the red priestess pauses and turns her blazing red gaze to him. She grins, satisfied with his appearance.

"Good morning, Lucerion."

Rhaenyra fumbles with rings as she purses her lips. Her hands soon found its way to her round belly, pregnant once more with her sixth child… and all she feels is pain.

It had been three years, almost four since Lucerys disappeared. Within those three years, they had sent multiple search parties through Westeros and Essos, and yet they found nothing but sightings of Arrax. It wasn't until Aemond, of all people, had managed to corner the dragon somewhere in Lorath that they discovered that Lucerys wasn't with his dragon. That was almost two years ago and they haven't found her precious son.

Now she is giving birth to another child, and she feels guilt creeping through her heart. It felt wrong to have a child in the midst of one being missing. She often cried, quietly speaking to the child on her womb of their older brother and how much of a sweet boy he was. How she wished they could have met him.

Rhaenyra fears the day where all hope is gone and she would not reunite with her son. Her children would not reunite with their brother. She fears for it everyday.

But, as she waits in her chambers within the red keep, she begins to dread.

Corlys has been injured during battle and Vaemond has come to fight against Rhaena's claim to the driftwood throne… Lucerys' claim.

She composes herself, knowing the Rhaena would do well as the Lady of the Tides. Yet, a part of her resents the world for not giving look the chance to handle the Velaryon fleet, for not making him lord of the tides. She resents the world and prays everyday — to old gods and new, to the gods of Valyria who hears her cries and ignores them — for her son to return to her arms. 

All she has wanted is a happy life and yet — for every single bit of happiness she feels now, there is an emptiness that will never heal until Lucerys has returned to her.

She hears a knock, sighing to herself as she allows whoever it is to enter. A servant girl comes with a tray of tea and some snacks, causing Rhaenyra to smile thoughtfully. The girl curtsies to her, setting the tray down and meeting her gaze only once. The girl smiles, curtsying once more as she exits.

As the servant girl was to leave, Daemon enters and smiles at Rhaenyra.

" Ābrazȳrys , how are you doing?" He asks, holding her hand as the other goes to her swollen belly.

"Better… But I still worry for Rhaena and…" she pursed her lips and took her hand back from Daemon. Her eyes close and she takes a moment to think, "How it would have been Luke being undermined for his claim had he been here."

Before she could even burst into tears, Daemon calmly shushes her, pressing a kiss to her temple. Rhaenyra sighs, biting her lip until blood dribbles out. She missed her son, truly she did.

Daemon hands her the tea and she takes a considerate sip. It tasted sweet. She could taste some honey and she sighed happily. This had always been a quirk of hers, drinking honeyed tea during the period of her pregnancy. From Jacaerys to the babe she was now carrying.

"We will find him. I swear to you, our sweet boy will return." Daemon vows, planting a chaste kiss to her lips. He could taste the tea and for a moment, he smiled in despair. He remembers Lucerys always sneaking into the kitchens to add honey to his mother's tea, he remembers the time their precious boy had added two spoons of tea to his milk and it had become his favorite.

His absence had felt obvious.

Even their dragons mourned for the disappearance of not only Arrax, but also Lucerys. The entire family had been affected and certain proceedings such as betrothals had been postponed. Daemon had heard Baela arguing with Rhaena one day that if she were to be wed, Lucerys had to be there to threaten her future spouse like the brother he was.

Jacaerys had also been able to avoid such betrothals by stating the fact his mother was still alive and well, and he needn't get married yet. Everyone knew that Jace wouldn't get married for almost the exact same reason as Baela, because his brother wasn't there to congratulate them.

"I know we will… but I still can't accept Helaena's dreams."

Ah yes, Helaena's prophetic dreams.

One day, three years ago, the children had come barging in on them and speaking nonsense of the gods having taken Lucerys. No one quite believed them until they had a proper discussion of it. Helaena spoke in riddles, unable to properly speak — as if scared to be punished. So they figured out her riddles.

Lucerys had been taken to another land by the gods' will. Viserys certainly believed it and found it to be the only reason as to why Lucerys has gone for so long. The king had received a prophetic dream himself later on and wept to his daughter that the gods were cruel to burden a child. Viserys had wept, saying of how he saw Lucerys in the arms of a cloaked figure before everything went to black.

It had caused chaos in their family.

"I know… I know. But we are Dragons!" Daemon insists, grasping her hands into his. "We will get him back Rhaenyra. I swear on my life — Lucerys will come back." 

With that vow he sealed their lips together. They part after moments and merely stare into each other's eyes and allow smiles to form across their faces.

Daemon laughs, happy that his wife was smiling. He takes the cup from hands and returns it to the tray, but he freezes. Where the plate and cup had been placed was a piece of parchment under it. Daemon inspects the paper and freezes.

He turns to his wife who looks curiously at him, confused at the paper in his hands.

Vaemond Velaryon is working with Otto Hightower. They will meet in the tower of the hand at the hour of ghosts. There are documents of their conspiracy in the tower.

Daemon does not recognize the handwriting. It was suspicious, it felt like a trap. He turns towards his wife, eyes going to her worried face before her pregnant belly. He smiles, kissing her forehead and telling her it is nothing. He lies to keep her safe.

Rhaenyra does not need to worry more with the child she was carrying and the child they were still looking for.

So Daemon does not tell her and waits until it nears midnight.

As the moon is high in the sky, he glances towards Rhaenyra's sleeping figure and he watches her for a few minutes. As he dressed himself, he plants a gentle kiss to her forehead and squeezes her hand for a bit. Daemon is not a gentle person by nature but he is willing to be for his family. He grabs the dark sister and leaves the room.

Daemon had lost one of his children three years ago, he was making sure his youngest would be born healthy and well, and he would make sure that no one would threaten his dear Rhaena.

If he couldn't even find Lucerys, at the very least he could protect the children that he could with all he had.

He takes a few detours, finding himself in front of Jacaerys' rooms and knocking on his door. The boy second-in-line to the throne pushed open his door and stared at Daemon in surprise. The rogue prince's gaze goes to the sword Jace was clutching tightly, nodding approval.

"Let's go. I received a tip that the Hightower Cunt is conspiring with Vaemond." He tells him and speaks no further. He is confident in Jace to understand the direness of his words, and the boy does not fail him. He is dressed and ready to go in minutes.

"Now for the other one." Daemon grumbles, while Jace sighs.

"You go ahead. I'll get Aemond." Jace says, "We'll meet you there but don't expect Baela to follow." He warned, swiftly taking of to the direction of his uncle's chambers.

Over the years, the Targaryens had become one and the same. Lucerys disappearance had done so. They were united and for a boy who they were desperately looking for. Daemon had taken Aemond in as not only as his nephew but also his disciple. He taught the boy how to fight and how to properly care for Vhagar, who had been a companion to Caraxes for its entire life. Regardless, Daemon cared for his family.

The tower of the hand was where Otto Hightower resided for many years now, and as Daemon takes several secret passages to get to it, he pauses. For a moment, wonders if this is all a trap. If he was dragging the children into a trap. The note hadn't been signed, along with unfamiliar handwriting. But still, if the Lord Hand and Vaemond were conspiring for the driftwood throne against Rhaena, than Daemon was not going to risk anything.

As he silently slips past several guards, he clicks his tongue in disappointment. Harwin had been more attentive than these idiots.

But as he sneaks into the tower, he freezes as he hears Otto's voice. That irksome voice of his that grated against Daemon's mind, causing him to grip Dark sister tightly.

He listens in, waiting for the other three to arrive. 

"Another woman! I will not stand for this! Without that bastard, my brother has decided to name that little girl as his heir. It is ridiculous." He hears Vaemond snarl and Daemon wished to kill him on the spot.

"Be calm, lord Vaemond." Otto hushed, "There are many who agree with our displeasure to the order of heirs. I myself do not wish Rhaena Targaryen upon the driftwood throne, the same way I do not approve of Rhaenyra being queen."

Daemon's eyes flashed dangerously, containing a growl deep into his throat. He glanced towards the end of the hallway, the secret passage he had entered from. Aemond, Jace, and Baela were wearing dark cloaks and clothing to hide themselves in. Before Baela could speak, Daemon silently demands them to be quiet. They continued to listen — outraged at the slanderous words coming from Otto and Vaemond about Rhaenyra and Rhaena. 

It takes Aemond and Jacaerys to hold back and silence Baela, who was lunging for her father's sword to kill the bastard that bad-mouthed her sister and step-mother. The audacity they had, and Baela was forced to keep quiet. Jace holds her tightly, giving her warning glares as they listened to them.

"Yes… about your correspondence with the triarchy."

The four of them froze, eyes going wide as Aemond presses his ear against the secret door.

It was definitely Otto who began to speak, "Yes… I have assured that they cause as much damage to the army sent against them. I do apologize for the damage they have caused to your brother."

"No, you've done me a favor. With Corlys out of commission, they will have to give me Driftmark. Rhaena is far to young to become Lady ," they hear Vaemond scoff, "of the tides."

With what little control Jace had of himself, he still held Baela back, regardless of his own desire to charge in and kill the two.

"In two days time, the hearing shall commence." Otto declares, "But we still have the issue of Rhaenyra."

"Viserys is a fool to have made Rhaenyra regent. The realm will be set aflame with her as our leader—"

A loud crash was heard and Daemon peeks into the room. He sees Otto and Vaemond stiffen, hurriedly exiting the room and checking the commotion from below. He pushed the door open, narrowing his eyes at the study.

"Hurry. There is evidence of their conspiracy in here. Find it. Quickly." He tells them and they begin to rummage through the room. He reminded them not to make a mess, to make it seem as if nothing has been touched.

A few minutes of searching and it is Aemond who finds several papers of his grandfather's spendings. From weapons to poisons, everything was listed in the paper. He also finds a letter from the leaders of the triarchy to his grandfather.

Daemon deems this enough, and the four quickly leave the room and ensure the hidden door they came from us sealed shut.

On a roof, Daemon hadn't noticed two cloaked figures crouching and observing their every action. A pair of vivid purple eyes watched the four hurry back into the red keep, a crossbow in her hands. She glances towards her companion, his dark eyes following the four.

"Damn! Those knights are idiots." They hear someone say, turning their gazes towards yet another cloaked figure with purple eyes.

"Aenar… be careful next time." Lucerys warns, "The kingsguard are not to be underestimated."

"Yeah, yeah. But still, they can't resist perfectly good alcohol." Aenar grins, cackling to himself. It had been easy to slip some wine into the tower of the hand, perfectly in view for the knights on guard. Unfortunately for them, the wine had been tampered to make them intoxicated from the first sip.

Aenar glances towards his sister, Naeryn holds the crossbow firmly and is ready to aim. He carries several daggers on his person, along with a sword by his hip. Lucerys is similar, but his weapons are special. Valyrian Steel daggers and Reaper's Ruin are hidden under the cloak as they watched Hightower and Vaemond Velaryon yell at the drunken guards — guards Aenar had thoroughly drugged.

Naeryn stiffens for a moment, her instincts causing her to bring her crossbow to eye level. But Lucerys puts and arms over her.

"Don't shoot. We need them both alive." He tells them, rising and walking towards the edge of the roof.

The siblings glances towards each other, as Aenar shrugged and simply followed Lucerys to the edge. Their supposed leader hadn't hesitated to jump, landing on his feet as the two followed suit.

"Arrax should be well hidden for now. But Grey Ghost is restless." 

Naeryn winces, pursing her lips.

Grey Ghost, the wild dragon that she had managed to bond with during one of their expeditions to Westeros. They had found the dragon flying over Maidenpool. Naeryn had been the one to bond with the dragon after she had cautiously tried to calm the frantic dragon, who had been frightened by violent men who shot arrows into the sky.

It has been Naeryn who carefully plucked arrows from it's scales and tried to calm it. Within a forest, Lucerys had watched as she bonded with a dragon, while Aenar was whopping at her achievement.

"Why did we have to come here again? Our presence is unnecessary." Aenar complains, slipping out of the red keep and into the streets of King's Landing. 

Lucerys narrowed his eyes, making sure Aenar and Naeryn's hoods hid their hair and eyes. Lucerys may be able to hide himself amongst the common folk, but illegitimate descendants of house Targaryen that possessed their silver hair and purple eyes stuck out.

Swiftly, they moved through the streets until they found themselves in the fleabottom. As vulgar as Lucerys thought it was, it was the best hiding spot for them at the moment. They returned to the shady inn that they had been staying in for the past day, greeting the owner who flinched at Lucerys. They returned to their rooms, locking the doors and closing the windows. 

"Although I enjoyed this trip of ours, what are we going to do now? It is not as if we can enter the red keep during the hearing. From what I understand of the court, servants aren't typically allowed to enter during such." Aenar once again whines.

Naeryn frowns at her brother, pinching his cheek before she sits up on the bed. 

"Only two of us need to get into the red keep during the hearing. One of us will have scout the area for any suspicious activity." He informs them, checking all four daggers he owned and carefully placing them back into their sheathes.

"I will scout." Naeryn immediately offers, looking at Lucerys with a fire in her eyes.

"Absolutely not! I'm not go act like a servant boy while you run around freely." Aenar gasped, outraged that he would have to wear the rags of servants whilst his sister would be comfortable in her black attire. He huffed, protesting against her choice.

But Lucerys was in Naeryn's side. Among the three of them, she was the stealthiest. She was more quiet, along with footsteps that were featherlight. Naeryn had attentive ears and perfect eyesight that made her a perfect spy. She would be better sneaking around for information while he and Aenar silently observed the hearing.

"Naeryn is the best choice. And I never said we would be pretending to be servants. There are enough secret passages for us to sneak in to and observe the proceedings."

Aenar's eyes lit up, "Does that mean we get to dress up like noblemen?!"

"No."

Aenar pouted and slumped back on his seat.

"Don't be absurd. Our job is to lay low. As much as I can trust my spies within the red keep, there is a chance Daemon will catch them. After we've intervened and sent Intel regarding Otto and Vaemond, he'll be more vigilant towards our spies. It's better if I check this out myself." He explains, running his hand through his hair.

Daemon had always been cautious and suspicious of people. Now that he has been informed by an anonymous variable, the rogue prince would be more attentive to those around him. Lucerys couldn't depend on the spies he's carefully placed within the red keep — there was a chance that Daemon would find them and perhaps try to interrogate his spies on who they served. It was risky and Lucerys wasn't willing to risk Daemon knowing about the things he's done over the three years he's been missing.

"Be prepared for tomorrow and we'll have to figure out a way to dye your hair." He says, his fingers carding through Naeryn's hair before he clears his throat and orders them to rest.

Lucerys would focus on himself, staring out the window and watching as people ran through the streets. It wasn't until he saw a faint shimmer of silver hair that he practically poked his head out the window. His eyes widen for a moment, before he sighed tiredly.

Of course.

Aegon was running amock to the streets of silk.

Many things were different now but done won't change.

Just as Aegon was still a slut and a manwhore.

Chapter Text

Humanity consists of seven sins that they have committed at least once. It is near impossible to find one who hasn't. He wouldn't even waste a single coin to hunt down such a saint-like person — a miraculous being that surely did not exist.

Lucerys — was not such a person. He was one of many humans who committed these seven sins. It was natural.

He's found a certain pattern, a phenomenon that occurs in families with more than one child. He often mockingly calls it second-son syndrome ; wherein the second son is far too ambitious for his station and that often gives them an infamous reputation or gets them killed. The second sons are more ambitious, have more drive — they have an innate need to prove themselves, to be viciously compared to the first son.

Luke thinks the second sons are more ruthless. He compares the other second sons he knows to himself. He wasn't as brutal as Daemon. He wasn't scholarly or good at swordsmanship like Aemond. He wasn't arrogant and careless like Vaemond.

But he was cunning and manipulative. He admits that. Aenar, Naeryn, Jaeros, and even Saera have told him such time and time again.

He was a bit like Otto — it was honestly revolting to be compared to the man who basically divided his family, but it was a fact that he couldn't ignore.

"Hey, does any of your family know about this passage?" Aenar looks around, moving the torch he held.

Lucerys shook his head, "No. Daemon and Mother know a lot but not this one. Melisandre was the one who informed me of its existence."

"Okay, okay… There!" Aenar points to a loose block of stone. They met eyes before they moved it aside, a small opening was made and they had a view of the throne room.

To Lucerys' awe, his mother sat upon the throne, draped in black and red cloth. Although a crown does not sit on her head, she looked everything a queen should. Daemon and Alicent lingered close to her, posture straight and calculated expressions withdrawn from their faces. They watched the court carefully, as Rhaenyra sighed to herself and looked down at her future subjects.

Luke's eyes turned towards the group at the bottom of the throne. Rhaena and Baela were together, on either side of Rhaenys. Aemond and Jace were on the same side with Baela, while Helaena and Aegon were with Rhaena. His heart ached, a kind of joy that brought pain to him. 

They were united, finally.

But he wasn't with them.

Clenching his fist, he grit his teeth and chewed at his lip. He felt envy, longing, and pain. He wanted to be with them, to stand alongside his family and be proud. But he couldn't. Him leaving brought this unity to life. He couldn't destroy it by simply returning.

Aenar grabs his wrist, a worried look gracing the boy's face. It was then did he realize that his nails dug into the skin of his palm, some blood oozing out of the crescent like wounds. He faltered, shaking his head and taking back his hand.

"Here… Naeryn said that you might forget your gloves." Aenar murmured, taking out a pair of leather gloves from his pocket. Lucerys often wore them, sometimes he forgot but he wore them as much as he could.

Nodding numbly, he took the gloves and covered his scarred hands.

"Be quiet."

"You're the one who's bleeding."

Lucerys pinched his side, shushing him as they listened. Aenar yelped and Luke slapped a hand over his mouth. The two glared at each other, before listening intently to the situation before them. 

Rhaenyra gazes down upon Vaemond, her lips carefully formed in a thin line, trying her best not to frown at the sight. This man dared to challenge her daughter's claim, dare to slander her sons and lie about them. She hates him, but she is forced to endure his presence and listen to his slanderous claims. She is the regent, her father's heir. She must uphold her status as a fair and just ruler, even if it meant having to listen to Vaemond's voice.

Her hand ghosts over her pregnant belly. She was scared. This pregnancy was the smallest and it had already been eight moons of her pregnancy. Rhaenys and Alicent claim it is a girl, saying that their daughters were also significantly smaller than their sons. So she took even more care for this child, to the point she hasn't taken to the skies, constantly apologizing to Syrax who often joins Jace and Vermax on their usual flies every morning.

Vaemond claims that this is not an issue of ambition, but rather of blood. People may speak of her sons as bastards, but Vaemond still dares to insult her daughters. Rhaena and Baela do not deserve such a thing and a part of her blames herself. It is because she was their stepmother that they are treated as such. Had Laena lived, Rhaenyra would expect them to be treated like the princesses they were: with respect, awe, adoration. They were Targaryens and Velaryons just like her boys.

"Princess Regent—" 

"Might I speak of my concerns. I am still unsure of why we are to hear of petitions over a settled succession. My son, Lucerys," she paused and narrowed her eyes at those who scoffed or flinched. "would have inherited the title of lord of the tides had he been present. As he is not, my daughter Rhaena would inherit driftmark. I do not understand why it is still being challenged when my daughter is capable of ruling."

"Your highness, it is not a matter of capability I speak of. Rhaena is young, she is still being taught how to rule over driftmark. I merely speak of being… regent until she is old enough to rule herself." Vaemond explains, having great difficulty at hiding his disdain. He casts an irritated glance towards Rhaena Targaryen, who is dressed in Velaryon blue. She stands tall beside her grandmother, staring him down.

Vaemond clears his throat, "My brother, Lord Corlys is in a dire situation. We are unsure if he lives—"

"Do not speak of such things, Vaemond!" Rhaenys yells. She places a hand over her mouth, troubled as she was with the fact that her husband was grievously injured.

In the hidden passage, Aenar struggles to hold Lucerys back — who had already taken out one of his valyrian Steel daggers, ready to slit Vaemond's throat.

"My dear good-sister…" Vaemond switches to a softer tone, looking regretful and concerned. But the Targaryens knew it was a lie, a farce of brotherly love. It was disgusting.

Rhaenyra purses her lips, glancing at Alicent and Daemon. The two were either keeping an eye on Vaemond or Otto, who was standing opposite to the Targaryens with his own entourage. The entire situation was troubling, the atmosphere growing more tense.

"I do not understand your concerns." Rhaenyra firmly stated, "Rhaena is Lord Corlys successor per his wishes. If there is anyone who is capable of offering keener insight to Lord Corlys wishes, then it is my aunt, Princes Rhaenys… would you be willing to provide further explanation?"

Rhaenys smiled thankfully, before she steps forward and begins to speak of Corlys decisions. "It is my husband's will that Driftmark is to be passed on to Lucerys… but as he is not present, he has declared for Rhaena as his successor. He has announced this two years ago and Rhaena has undergone training under myself and Lord Corlys."

"And it has been successful?" Rhaenyra offers an amused smile. She knew very well that Rhaena was doing well as the future Lady of the tides. Lucerys has insisted on dragging Rhaena to ever single lesson Corlys has provided him, thus the two had been well educated on driftmark.

Rhaenys smirks, filled with pride. "Of course. She has learned how to handle the ships, how to properly command the fleet and has been introduced to those of driftmark. I assure you, Princess Regent, my granddaughter is very much capable of ruling. And I do not doubt she would be successful in her future rule."

"Then it is decided. Rhaena Targaryen is to be Lady of the tides, per the will of Princess Rhaenys and Lord Corlys." Rhaenyra announced, calmly assessing the expressions of those present.

He could see disdainful looks from lords, interested and awed looks from ladies, and the raw furt upon the expressions of Vaemond and Otto. She chews on her lip as Vaemond clenched his fist. 

"You and your father break law and centuries of tradition, to install you as heir," Vaemond grit his teeth. "Yet  you dare tell me…who deserves to inherit driftmark!"

Daemon carefully places his hand over the sheathe of his blade, staring down at Vaemond. His fingers wrap around the hilt of dark sister, smirking at the prospect of violence.

Alicent on the other hand, is sending warning looks to Daemon whilst also sile tlt signalling for the kingsguard to apprehend Vaemond if he becomes violent. She glanced towards Rhaenyra, silently conveying her concern through her eyes and Rhaenyra only nodded in understanding.

"That girl is not worthy of Driftmark! She is but an arrogant child who plays princess and pretends to have control! She is too childish, she cannot rule. She will let her emotions cloud her judgement and driftmark will be brought to ruins." Vaemond shouted, pointing an accusing finger at Rhaena who had inherited her father's lethal stare.

Beside her, Baela has her hand on Jace's sword. Jacaerys silently struggles to pry her fingers of it, gritting her teeth as he desired to kill Vaemond himself. Driftmark may have been Rhaena's but it was also Luke's. It didn't matter that he wasn't there. The only people Jace would accept as future lord or lady of the tides was either Luke or Rhaena. The two of them were taught together for such a role, he wasn't willing to let anyone inherit driftmark after those two worked so hard.

He hopes that whatever skills Corlys has taught him, Luke would find it useful. 

"She is a woman. Women do not have proper judgement. Her decisions will be muddled with her emotions and she will not be a good a ruler. What Driftmark needs is—"

"Silence." Rhaenyra calmly speaks, exercising terrifying restraint. The display of silent power easily contradicted to Vaemond's claims, who was glancing at Otto for help. But the lord hand was silent, finding great flaws to ant involvement and chose to stay silent.

Rhaenyra is satisfied with this outcome. 

"My father… is a just and fair monarch." She slowly explained, "And what you speak of is not only insulting to my daughter but to me as well… do you understand that such words are treason?"

Her voice is low and soft, it was gentle. However, the softness was akin to an adult speaking to a child. It was a subtle kind of mocking that made Vaemond scowl, as Rhaenyra smiles cruelly at him. She was making fun of him, as if he were petulant child going through a tantrum.

Vaemond's face turns purple as he hears someone snicker, glowering at the members of the court who had sided with Rhaenyra. 

"I will not allow this! I am—"

"Not the successor to driftmark." Rhaenyra cuts him off, "And you have committed treason by undermining the decisions of your brother and questioning the will of the king. Daemon…"

Her husband turns to her with glee in his eyes. It was as if he were a child given the gift he wanted most. And she spoke words he wanted to hear,

"Seize him."

The two of them are silent as they try to process what had happened. Lucerys was both happy and slightly concerned that Vaemond was arrested. On one hand, Vaemond would be publicly humiliated and judged for his crimes but on the other hand, he was not dead. Overtime, Lucerys thinks that defeat has a better meaning if his enemy is dead.  

Aenar, on the other hand, was absolutely intimidated by the Princess Regent. Luke's mother apparently. Although there were significant differences between the two, he could see the similarities. First of all, Lucerys was just as intimidating as his mother when he wants to. Second of all, Luke clearly inherited his mother's capability to look sweet and venomous at the same time. He grimaced, glancing at the calculating look Lucerys wore.

"Why are you displeased?" Aenar asked, brows furrowed at the frown on Luke's face. 

"I'd prefer if he was dead." Lucerys takes a step back from the little gap they were spying through. "Less troublesome if the problem was permanently removed." 

"Isn't that too much?"

"Not when the threat is conspiring with Hightower."

Lucerys turned on his heel, walking away from the gap they were spying on. There was no need to observe the further proceedings. Vaemond has been dealt with and he'll patiently wait for Otto's downfall. It was set in stone for Otto Hightower to perish. It may not be today, or tomorrow, but eventually, he will fail. 

Carefully, the open on of the doors that the passage lead to. The hallway was empty, aside from servants rushing around and gossiping amongst themselves. Lucerys pushes the door open and slips out, scolding Aenar for how slow he is. 

As much as Lucerys wants to wander the halls and check up on his family, he wasn't risking it. He had left for a reason and that reason has been achieved. Destroying this unity, this peace with his return was not worth it. His family was happy, they were prospering and so was he. There was no need to disrupt it.

On second thought… 

"Let's go visit my younger brothers."

Aenar froze, gaping at him.

"Huh? W—Wait! You said we couldn't get caught. For god's sakes, we'll get caught by the bloody kingsguard if we go anywhere near your brother's quarters." Aenar stuttered out, trying to stop Lucerys.

But that shan't be the problem. Lucerys hastily removed the cloak he wore and tossed it towards Aenar. He fixes his posture and slips through the servants rooms. With the appropriate clothing, Lucerys didn't look any different from the other servants. The issue was Aenar, who was hiding behind a corner while carrying Luke's cloak.

"Wait here if you must… I'll have to check on the younger three eventually."

"Rion! You'll get caught."

"Not when I'm dressed like this. Follow me if you must be stay hidden." Lucerys dismisses him immediately and silently moves in the direction of his siblings quarters. He spies a few servants giggling and whispering to each other, clearing his throat and approaching them.

"Hello there fair maidens." He grins, satisfied at their blushes. "Might I know who's food this will be served to? I heard that some knights have been found sparring at the training grounds." He hummed.

The two glanced at each other, "Why is that?"

"Hm… something about a knight from Oldtown arriving. Seems that this knight is rather popular amongst you ladies." He grinned. Of course if was little gossip that the young servant girls had fancied some knight from Oldtown. He didn't know who, he didn't care.

The two gasped, squealing.

"Now, now. You won't be able to catch a glimpse of this knight if you are so busy. Might I take the burden from you?"

Without much hesitation, the two shoved the trays into his hand and giggle as they hurry to the training grounds. Lucerys rolled his eyes, shaking his head with a grimace. Such people were the ones tasked 5o serve his brothers? How irresponsible. It was tactless and he was greatly displeased of it.

Aenar hurries to his side, slack-jawed as he gazed at him then the two girls who had ran off at the gossip of a knight coming. He aims to speak but is silenced by Lucerys who hurries towards his brothers' chambers with their food in hand.

Swiftly, Aenar hides behind a suit of armor as Lucerys knocks on the door. It only took a few minutes before the nursemaids opened the door and smiled at him. He only hopes that the woman does not recognize him as Lucerys nodded and lowered his gaze.

"Have the cooks made prince Joffrey's favorite?" One of the women asked.

Lucerys glances down at the tray and smiles. There was a batch of cookies, the ones Joffrey would become a glutton for.

"Yes, of course. But it is well advised that the Prince eats his lunch before snacking on the cookies." He tells her, entering the room. He paused for a moment, his eyes growing wide as he gazes down at Aegon III and Viserys II, who were throwing a ball at each other. Slowly, he places the tray of food on the table, unable to keep his fascination of the two hidden.

"Which one is Prince Viserys?" Luke, admittedly, has trouble differentiating the children with their likeness. With only a year between their births, they were suspectedly the same size in almost everything.

The nursemaid hums, "This one," she says and caresses the silver hair of one of the children, "Is prince Aegon the younger."

Lucerys nodded, smiling fondly at the two. His gaze lands on the dark haired boy on the bed, softly sleeping and snuggling into the blankets.

Joffrey , he realizes with a bitter smile. Clearing his throat, "Might I suggest waking the little prince. I do not think he would enjoy a cold meal."

The nursemaid blinks, smiling as she nodded in agreement and moving to wake the little prince. Lucerys takes this chance to kneel before the two princes, offering his hand to who he now knew as Aegon the younger.

"Hello little princes." He greets them. "Do you remember me?"

Aegon tilts his head, obviously confused as he raised his arms towards the young man. Luke smiles, taking Aegon's tiny hands into his. He chuckled, as Aegon smiled and giggled at him.

"Doesn't seem like it…" he murmured, standing up as he jokingly bowed at the two silver haired princes. 

"My prince… prince Joffrey, please wake up… your lunch has arrived."

The nursemaid frowned, as the prince continued to snore and snuggle into his blanket and pillows. She sheepishly smiled at Luke, who moved to her side.

"Allow me… I have several siblings back at home, so this is a common occurrence. Why don't you tend to the younger princes first?"

With great hesitation, the nursemaid sighed and nodded. She knelt before the two princes and babbled to the two with a gentle tone.

Luke was left to deal with the sleeping Joffrey. He runs his fingers through his hair, smiling when Joffrey leaned into his touch. His younger brother had inherited the same hair as his, unlike the straightness Jace was cursed with. Quietly and gently, he shakes Joffrey who whines and groans at the movement.

"Wake up, Joff…" he whispers and a tiny bit did his brother open his eyes. "I've got cookies."

"Cookies?"

"Yeah… with the chocolate melted and all that."

Joffrey groaned, pouting as he opened his eyes. From what Luke suspected, his eyes were blurry but that was enough for him. He patted Joffrey's head, "Take care, okay? I'm unable to stay long." He whispered, melancholy lacing his voice.

"Luke?"

"Yeah… be well brother."

He straightens his back as Joffrey whined again, flipping back to the bed and rubbing his eyes. Luke quickly excused himself, as the nursemaid thanked him. He rushed out the room, heart pounding against his chest the moment he was out.

Aenar waits for him, a frown on his face but Luke doesn't mind it. He grabs his cloak and hurries out the red keep. A little longer and maybe he won't leave. 

—

Jace eagerly follows his mother to his younger brothers. Ever since Luke vanished, Joffrey, Aegon, and Viserys had a special place in his heart. Admittedly, he was more possessive of his brothers due to Lucerys being missing. No one could blame him. Daemon says he's paranoid — scared that his younger brothers would be whisked away. It had been bad, two years ago, Jace vividly remembers the time Joffrey had almost been assassinated.

A man had slipped through the window of Joffrey's chambers, unluckily for him, Jace had been doing his usual rounds of checking up on his siblings. Joffrey had been shoved out the room, screaming for his mother and Daemon had immediately ran to Jace.

Daemon and Rhaenyra found him covered in blood, still stabbing the assassin who was clearly dead.

His mother was severely concerned, halting her duties to spend time with her firstborn. It had helped, but it didn't stop Jace from being extremely hostile to those who tried to harm his siblings.

"Has…" Rhaenyra pauses, placing a hand over her round belly. It seems like his new sibling was a vicious kicker. "Has Joffrey been visiting Tyraxes?"

"Last week, he did." Jace quickly comes to his mother's aid, helping her walk. "Tyraxes is getting big. Joffrey will be able to mount his dragon in three or four years."

Rhaenyra nodded in understanding. She smiles thoughtfully at her son, before wincing at the pain. Slowly, they push open the door and were met with Aegon and Viserys chasing each other while Joffrey was drawing. The sight was nice, causing the princess regent to smile thoughtfully as her eldest helped her sit on the bed.

"Princess…" the nursemaid curtsied, smiling thoughtfully at Rhaenyra.

"Hello… Have they eaten already?"

"Yes. Prince Joffrey greatly enjoyed his cookies as well."

Rhaenyra chuckles, glancing towards her third son, who was far more interested in his drawing than his mother. She smiled, shaking her head as Jace goes up to Joffrey and fuffles his curly hair.

"Quite it!" 

"What are you drawing?"

Joffrey hesitates for a moment before he looks down at his drawing. It was dragon, soaring through the sky. It wasn't masterfully drawn like what professionals did, but it has enough detail that Jace tried to ignore it.

"Tyraxes looks wonderful… you have a good memory. Is that why you visited the dragon pit a week ago?"

Joffrey shakes his head. "That's not Tyraxes… It's Arrax."

Rhaenyra and Jace stiffen, staring at Joffrey who ran a finger over his drawing.

"I dreamt of him a while ago… I'm not sure if it was big brother… but I think I heard his voice."

"Joff—"

"Luke!"

Jace snapped his head towards Aegon, who had run up to him. The little prince was grinning, yelling Luke over and over again until Viserys joined in. Jace turned to his mother, who looked pain as she looked away from her sons. His heart dropped. He hadn't noticed it. Maybe he did and chose to ignore the mere fact floating around the room.

Within these chambers were all of Rhaenyra's children, Jace, Joffrey, Aegon, Viserys, and the baby in her womb… all except for Lucerys.

The princess pressed a hand against her heart, a mournful look cursing her face. She looked older. The sadness seeped into her skin and it seemed to feed on her life force. Her heart broke.

"I—" Jace choked, turning towards the concerned nursemaid. "Did anyone enter here before us?"

The nursemaid stiffened. She pursed her lips, closing her eyes. She nodded, taking in a deep breath. "Yes. It was a serving boy— I— he has dark hair and eyes. Fairly tall… my prince, I did not know—"

"Be quiet…" Rhaenyra whispered as she held her stomach and stared at the floor. There was a single thought that raged through her head. A thought that made her heart race. Her sons had spoken her sweet boys name. Joffrey had dreamt of Luke. And the nursemaid had allowed a dark haired boy to enter the rooms.

Lucerys is here.

She gets up on her feet, waddling to the door and Jace is quick to run to her.

"Mother—"

"Seal the gates! Immediately." She ordered, "If what I suspect is true then Lucerys is here in king's landing. Quickly. We cannot let him escape! It matters not if these are just woes, if there is a chance—"

"I understand. Mother please… sir down. I shall do as you say, but please… " Jace pleased as he lead his mother back to the chair. He knelt before her, taking her hand and kissing her knuckles. "We will find him… I swear on it."

Rhaenyra nodded, chewing in her lip as she squeezed his hand. "Bring him home."

"I swear on it."

Neither spied the girl hiding under the balcony. Her hood fell and silver-blonde hair falls like waves. Her attentive eyes and ears are focused on the conversation she listens on. The knowledge that her brother and good friend were caught was troubling.

She decides to jump, hurriedly returning to the inn they had hidden themselves in.

"Those idiots." 

Chapter Text

Do you know that feeling of absolute fury at the mere fact that everything could have just gone perfect if you didn’t let your emotions take over? Because that was what Lucerys felt like. His very own feelings and desires had betrayed him and now they were in this mess. Which involved Aenar frantically packing everything into their satchels and screaming in hushed tones about their food and how they should return to Essos.

Naeryn had slammed the door open, glaring at both of them before she stated that they had been caught. Unfortunately, Lucerys had underestimated Joffrey’s capability to differentiate between dreams and reality, along with Aegon III and Viserys II ability of speech. Now, due to his foolishness, his little brother’s have informed not only Jacaerys, but also their mother of his presence in King’s landing.

Was Naeryn furious? Yes, although the two boys would have preferred her to yell than her silent but deadly glares.

Aenar was almost sobbing as he quietly whispered apologies to a bottle of wine he had stolen from the red keep, kissing it before he shoved it into his satchel. Lucerys stared at the map of King’s landing before he marked the place of their exit. It would have been easy for them to slip past the folk of King's Landing and out of the crownlands in no time, but the Targaryens hadn't hesitated to dispatch numerous kingsguard on every exit that they could leave through.

"Why the hell are the gold cloaks in the Fleabottom?! Isn't this excessive?" Aenar grit his teeth as he peaked out the window. Men wearing golden cloaks were marching through the streets, clearly in search for someone . He promptly glares at said someone.

"Did you bring any dye?"

"What? Absolutely not you imbecile. You are not to lay a finger on a single strand of my beautiful hair!" Aenar immediately places his hands over his head, shielding the silver-blonde strands he inherited from their mother.

Naeryn shakes her head, almost regretful that she hadn't. Unlike her brother, Naeryn didn't care much for the uniqueness of her hair. Essos had plenty of people with hair like hers but in Westeros, it signifies your relation to their royal family. Unconsciously, she caressed her hair, the exact same shade as Saera's and sighs. She really wouldn't mind turning it brown and convincing people that she was Luke's sister instead of Aenar's.

"I won't. I won't." Luke snapped back before he glanced out the window and froze.

Four gold cloaks had just spoken to the owner of the inn and were entering the building. The three of them stare for a moment.

Then chaos erupts.

Aenar is grabbing his and Naeryn's satchel, while also showing Luke's in his face. He grabs his sword, he daggers, and the extra arrows they had hidden. His sister is quickly strapping her crossbow behind her back and grabs her cloak, putting it over her figure and making sure her weapon is well hidden. She takes Luke's wrist and unties the ribbon she had placed there, tying her hair quickly.

On the other hand, Luke was placing his four daggers in its usual places. One on the strap on his thigh, two in his boots, and one in his sleeve. He places a hand on the hilt of Reaper's Ruin, the gift Balerion had given to him months ago and purses his lips. He turns back to the brother-sister duo, nodding at the fact that they were already wearing their cloaks and doing their best to hide their hair. Naeryn was more willing to stain her hair with some of the wine they had brought back, Aenar looked devastated as he saw his sister's hair turn into a more golden kind of blonde than the almost white.

The trio had already paid for their stay and they had planned to leave anyway. Slipping through the window, Luke landed on the ground first before Naeryn followed and he swiftly caught her. Aenar was the last — checking if they had left anything or there was something that would lead the kingsguard to them. He nodded, grabbed some perfume from his satchel and aggressively sprayed it all over the room. Once he finished, he crawled out the window and shut it behind him, his feet landing on the wet ground of the flea bottom.

They ran for a while, slipping through the crowds and dodging the prying eyes of the city watch. Naeryn was snatching coin bags as they ran, hiding them under her cloak and hoping it would be enough to sustain them for a while. Although she did not doubt Luke had brought enough money to keep them afloat until they have returned to Essos.

"Why the hell aren't we going in the direction of the iron gates?" Aenar grabbed Luke, causing the dark-haired boy to stop.

"No, not there. It's too close to the red keep. We to go north, to the dragon Gate. I heard from Jaeros that the Old gate had been breeches a few months ago so the security there is higher than usual." Luke explained, before continuing his speedy strides. They were no longer running, for fear that the citg watch would be suspicious of their movements. "Daemon will surely be out of the red keep by now, and so will Jace. However, that doesn't mean they have gone too far from there. Mother is with child, they will not stray from her too long."

"Yes, but the rest of your relatives would not be needed if Rhaenys and Alicent themselves stay put. Your uncles also seem to be eager to find you." Aenar replied, making way for some street merchanr rushing around.

"You have no faith in us, that includes yourself. Aegon and Aemond may have been well trained within the walls of the red keep but the three of us have spent years navigating streets. The journey from the Flea bottom to the will not be an issue." Lucerys insisted as they ducked into an alley when they caught sight of a man wearing a gold cloak.

Naeryn frowned, "But there is still the risk of us having to go through the dragon pit. If one of your uncles, especially Aemond, catch sight of us, then it will be easy for them to mount their dragons and chase us."

Luke grit his teeth. "Vhagar is too big for king's landing and will cause too much damage. Sunfyre isn't familiar with my scent. The ones we have to worry about are Caraxes, Syrax, and Vermax."

He dearly hoped that none of said three would be released from the pit. Luke was the rider of Arrax, one of Syrax's hatchlings, she would have smelled her child on him from a mile away. Not to mention Vermax and Arrax were siblings, as well as the bond the green-scaled dragon had with Jace would be a great disadvantage to Luke.

"Be silent." He hissed, "We'll have to go around Rhaenys' hill. Passing through the dragon pit is not well advised, as you have said." 

Aenar and Naeryn nod. The two glance around each other, making sure the coast was clear. When none of the gold cloaks were seen, they hurried along the road, keeping their heads down and their faces hidden.

"Wait—"

"What now—"

"Don't we have to go through the streets of silk to get to the dragon gate."

Luke immediately went stiff. He stared at Aenar, who looked extremely concerned for him. Naeryn was also fearing for him, her already pale face turning even paler as she tried to calm him down. His heart pounded against his chest and he pursed his lips.

Luke never did like brothels. He was only able to tolerate Saera and Nilora's business due to the fact he was looking for information, not whores. The streets of silk also had another factor in which they should concern themselves with: Aegon .

Ironically enough, Aegon was quite dangerous when you add the fact he was very much familiar with its streets.

He ruthlessly cursed in high valyrian, shaking his head as he marched through buildings and knocked over anyone who was getting in his way. The other two followed him silently, trying to calm him down with quiet gestures and movements. Brothels were never good places for him. Not really.

Sexual intercourse was something he was genuinely afraid of. He didn't know why. He just was. The mere thought of his body getting touched in such ways caused him to freeze, to stop breathing, and he thinks that if the time came, he would have fainted on the spot. He tries to remember a moment in his life about sex that has altered his mind, he doesn't find anything. He wasn't engaged in it in his past life, neither had he lost his chastity in the present.

"I—" he cuts himself off, chewing on his lip. "I don't mind. Not when we're about to get caught. Let's just hurry and get past the gates as fast as possible."

He shakes his head, stomping away as he takes in a deep breath. Perhaps that was a bad idea. The scent of multiple perfumes and colognes permeat the air and enter his nose. It is the most revolting smell he has ever come in contact with and he looses his balance. Thankfully, Aenar is there to support him, a grimace on the older boys face as the hurry through the brothels. They are cautious, careful not to attract the attention of the city watch.

Naeryn does not falter as she places a hand on the dagger strapped to her thigh. It did well for her not to wear dresses during these kind of missions. The trousers and shirt were light enough for perfect mobility. While Aenar is making sure Luke doesn't vomit at the scent of whores, she is the one who keeps a lookout for the authorities. She sees none, nodding to herself as she hurriedly follows them. 

However…

"Aen, take a left." Naeryn advises. 

Her brother nods, and he whispers something in high valyrian to Luke. The dark-haired prince nods, shaking his head and hands as he regains his balance. They take a right, absolutely thankful for the darkness that would inevitably shroud them.

The sun was beginning to set.

"Convenient." Aenar suspiciously murmurs, "Why are there no gold cloaks?" 

Lucerys pauses. Why are there no gold cloaks? Even if the streets of silk is an area of pleasure houses, that still did not stop the city watch from dispatching numerous guards. If anything, he heard that his mother had reinforced the guards in the streets of silk due to the multiple reports of rape that had gone ignored. Oh… maybe that's why I don't like sex , he thought to himself with a grimace. 

A shiver goes up his spine at the thought.

"Luke—" 

Lucerys collided with someone and stumbles back, pressing a hand to his chest and grit his teeth. He was just thankful to have not fallen on his arse, lest his clothes be dirtied with muddied water — he did not want to know what was in the water. 

"Who—" 

Cold air shrouds them as they stare, frozen in shock, at the person they had bumped into. To be specific, people . 

As if the gods wanted to mock the three of them, they had encountered three of the Targaryen princes. Aegon, Aemond, and Jacaerys. Two with silver hair and one with brown. Two with purple eyes and one with black. The gods were making fun of them for sure.

Aenar immediately thinks, This is Luke's fault. Definitely. 

Said boy was silent as he stared at his brother and uncles, who stared right back. What? Why are they in the streets of silk?!

"Luke?" Jace whispers as he stared at his little brother. His brother was the same height as him now, with short hair that was no longer in tight curls, rather they fell in waves. 

On the other hand, Aegon and Aemond were staring at the two strangers. Unfortunately for Luke, silver hair was peaking out of the two's hoods. The utter bafflement the other older trip felt was… well, baffling.

It was a catastrophe.

"Okay…" Luke whispers, "Well…" he trailed off… not planning to finish his sentence at all.

He grabbed Aenar and Naeryn's wrists, running in the direction of where they came from. Damn the city watch! Jace, Aegon, and Aemond had been dispatched to the very place he was present in. They were more dangerous than the kingsguard. Luke thinks, We're gonna die , and immediately retracts his words and determinedly runs through the streets. 

"LUKE! LUKE GET BACK HERE!" He hears Jace yell, and he knew they were chasing after them. Terror courses through his veins but he forces himself to be brave. Melisandre had taught him better than this!

"WHY THE HELL ARE ALL THREE OF THEM HERE?!" Aenar yells as he shoves a man out of their way.

"I don't know!" Lucerys replies.

Naeryn grits her teeth, hastily looking for a quick escape. Luke was clearly in a panic, not in a stable state with the appearance of his brother and uncles. Aenar was far too busy trying to keep them safe from the others to look for an exit. It was up to her now.

She grabs them by the scruff of their shirts and drags them into a building, unfortunately a brothel. She sees Lucerys panic even more, gulping and sweating as the color drains from his face. There are many people in the building, many who were far too distracted in their pleasure to even notice them. With the advantage of practically growing up in a brothel, Naeryn knew there was a backdoor somewhere. 

"Luce— get it together!" She hissed and harshly slapped his face. His cheek turns red but Naeryn's cares not. "The back door is here somewhere."

Aenar grits his teeth, "How do you think they knew we were here."

"Melisandre warned us about this," Naeryn frowns. "About another who could see the future."

Lucerys stills, "Helaena."

The realization crashed upon him like the storm he died in. With him so close, of course Helaena could sense him. He assumes that with the great distance and how close he was to Valyria, she wouldn't have sensed him. Melisandre's visions were more prominent as they were from another god. Helaena's dreams were given to her by the gods of Old Valyria, the ones who favored Lucerys. She wouldn't have been able to know where he was with his location.

"We have to get out."

"What are we going to do when we're out? Gray Ghost and Arrax are nowhere to be seen!" Aenar snapped.

"I know that!" Luke argued back, "I'll deal with that. I can summon Arrax no matter how far he is."

Aenar nodded but he still looked annoyed.

They finally found the back door, rushing out of it. Naeryn took a peek at the streets, grimacing at the numerous Gold Cloaks matching around. The security had heightened within the minutes they were discovered.

" Māzīs . Māzigon, Arrax." Luke whispered over and over again. A second later, it felt like his blood boiling. Even if it were only for a few seconds, it felt as if he had been burned. Melisandre had said that his bond with Arrax had shifted. The melancholic thought that often comes to mind is that Arrax had also returned to the past with him.

"The coast is clear." Naeryn reports to them, "Let's go while we still have time."

Aenar takes in a deep breath, shaking his head as he carefully hides his hair under the hood. He's in the back of their group, making sure that neither Naeryn nor Lucerys would be caught if the city watch does discover them. Their plans had deviated but he was sure they would get out of this.

"A little more." He whispers to himself as he sees the gate. But he froze. Guards, so many guards were by the dragon gate. It was almost impossible for them to get out. If they scaled the walls then only Naeryn would escape. 

"Fuck!" Luke curses under his breath. The first thing he thinks of is to fight. Is to take our his sword and go on a massacre.

"What do we do?!"

Luke shakes his head. They were blocked!

His eyes immediately scan his surroundings trying to figure out an escape. Then he saw it. Three horses, untied, unsurprised as the guards chatter. He thinks, stampede . 

"Naeryn… shoot one of those horses." He tells her.

Naeryn doesn't even hesitate. She removes the crossbow from her back and aims it directly at the horses blossom. As her arrow shoots through the air, it hits it's target. The horse goes wild in pain, instigating it's kin to start running amock. The guards are in a panic, trying to calm their mounts but are inevitably ran over by the animals.

They take this chance and run. 

"LUCERYS!" 

Luke flinches as he hears Aemond's voice. He dares to glance at his uncle, scowling as he saw Aemond run towards them, Jace and Aegon follow closely.

"DO SOMETHING!" Aenar screams at him. 

Why the hell are they so fast? Luke does not want to know what Daemon did to make them fast runners but he has been chased by Jaeros on a horse before. He could survive this…

On second thought, he wasn't taking any chances.

He takes the dagger in his sleeve and apologizes to it in High Valyrian. He looks towards a banner hanging of one of the buildings and throws his dagger right at it. The rope breaks and the banner falls, momentarily slowing them down. It was enough, they could get out.

"Luke! Come on! Arrax and Gray Ghost are just in time."

And indeed were their dragons there. Perfect timing really. Lucerys hastily mounts the white dragon while Naeryn takes hold of Gray Ghosts reins. Aenar sits on the saddle just behind her, his arms wrapped around her waist as they yelled one simply command.

" Sōvēs!"

And Lucerys hears his brother screaming his name as they shoot to the sky.

"Seven hells!" Jacaerys screams as he glared up at the sky.

He had seen Luke. His precious little brother, grown into a fine young man. His brother who had looked him in the eye, stared into his soul, and chose to run away. Luke didn't even think to speak to him, didn't even think to stay. Lucerys chose to run!

The most infuriating thing was the fact Luke wasn't alone. He was accompanied by a girl and a boy their age. Both with the same hair their mother possessed. Lucerys had looked him in the eye and grabbed the other two and ran. 

"FUCK!"

"Nephew." Aegon places a hand on Jace's shoulder, trying to calm him down. For a moment, Jace does, but he is soon taken by his grief, sorrow, and anger. It sickening as his mind goes to the horrified look on Luke's face. 

"He— that idiot—" Jace screams again. "He left! He fucking left and didn't even hesitate when he ran! What the hell have the gods done to him?" 

Aegon whispers softly, "Let's take this back to the keep. Our mother's will not be pleased with us screaming about the gods taking Lucerys in public." He leads Jace back into the walls of King's Landing, feeling his nephew shake. Be it anger or sadness, he did not know. But he was aware of the fact that Jace was distraught by the mere fact his brother was right in front of him, and he still failed to get him back. 

Aegon turns towards Aemond, who had ran past them. Between the three of them, Aemond had looked like a madman chasing after Lucerys. He knew that his brother did not seek to kill their nephew, no, Aemond had developed an unhealthy obsession for Luke that seemed to be driven by their childhood feelings. Love, Aegon has trohble understanding.

The one-eyed prince marches towards the building that had a banner hanging from it. His eye is fixed upon the shiny dagger imbedded into the wall. He feels no difficulty as he removes the blade from the wood, taking it into his hands and caressing it. He was gentle, more gentle than he was with Aegon or Daeron.

"Is that…" Aegon trailed off, "Valyrian Steel." 

Aemond nodded, "Well cared for too. It's not old like Dark Sister or Blackfyre — it does not have the evidence of age." There were no scratches nor was it worn out. It was a perfect blade that could easily draw blood.

He pressed the tip of his finger to the blade and it immediately bleeds. The dagger was sharper than it looked. 

"We must return to the keep." Jace announces, "Luke will not get far. Mother will surely allow us to follow after them on dragon back." 

The two sons of Alicent nod and the three are in the Red Keep in no time.

They find themselves in the council room. The occupants only the members of the Targaryen family, be it born or married into, they were here. From Viserys and Alicent to Corlys and Rhaenys, they were all here. Expectant eyes turn to the three of them, as they bow respectfully to their presence. Helaena sits with Baela and Rhaena, tending to her own twins. Joffrey clings to Rhaenys, along with Aegon III and Viserys II. 

"Well?" Alicent's eyes are filled with hope, "Was Helaena correct? Was Lucerys truly heading to the dragon gate?"

The three grimaced. 

Jace sighs, "He was there. He was accompanied by two others… they had silver hair." He saw the queen and his mother make eye contact before he continued. "We found them trying to escape to the Dragon Gate, they had to pass through the streets of silk." He shuddered, fearing for his brothers chastity. Apparently his mother thought the same.

"He was accompanied?" Daemon asked, turning to Aemond.

The one-eyed prince replied, "Yes. A girl and a boy similar in age to him. They had Valyrian features and seemed to be familiar with him. I suspect they have known each other for the past three years."

"Hm… where is my son?" Rhaenyra struggled to stand, her hand placed on her pregnant belly. Daemon was quick to make her sit back down. But her gaze is fierce and demanding.

The three princes become nervous under her eyes. The fidget and try to hide away from her gaze but they cannot. She is their sister and their mother, they cannot hide from her eyes. Not when her sweet boy was involved.

"He escaped."

Rhaenyra takes in a deep breath, clutching her belly before a small tear trickles down her cheek. Alicent gently wipes it away, whispering words of comfort into her ears as Daemon chooses to interrogate his nephews and stepson. 

"How did they escape."

"Arrax wasn't the only dragon that arrived. The girl had mounted Gray Ghost."

"A wild dragon has finally been bonded?" Daemon hummed, intrigued by this mysterious girl. The mere fact she was able to ride a dragon was interesting but a wild one was even more questionable. "What else?"

Aemond hesitantly hands the dagger to Daemon. The rogue prince raised a brow, but he frowns as he examines the dagger. "Where did you get this?"

"Lucerys owns it. He threw it to cut the rope of a banner to slow us down."

"It seems like our sweet boy knows how to handle his blades." Daemon glances towards Aemond, before he hummed softly. He grazed his finger on the blunt end of the blade.

He knows valyrian Steel. The dagger in his hand was made of the finest of the very material that made his beloved Dark Sister. It was well cared for, clearly intended to always be as sharp as it was now. There was nothing out of the ordinary with the Valyrian Steel blade, aside from the subtle engraving in the hilt of the blade.

Daemon pauses, taking a closer look with the blade.

Midnight . 

"He named his dagger Midnight. " Daemon chuckled softly. He returned to dagger to Aemond, knowing full well that the young man would find a way to steal it and keep it for himself until Lucerys returned.

"He's flying to Essos." Aegon announced and they all stiffened. They had gone to Essos, searched high and low and yet they never found Lucerys. But he was close. He had returned to Westeros and it would be easier to track him down now. 

"Mother… please."

Rhaenyra pursed her lips. She does not plan to loose any more children. Be it her actual children or her siblings, she was not willing to loose them. She closes her eyes and thinks of Luke. She thinks of the child that was once in her womb and the child that was in her womb in the present. Her sweet boy was so close. Lucerys had been hear to witness the hearing and he had taken the time to peak at his younger brothers. Yet he didn't have the time to speak to her.

She does not cry, but she wishes to weep for her son.

"Find him… Find him and bring him back home. The god's be damned for taking him from us." Rhaenyra says, her voice cold yet soft. She wanted her son back.

Her brothers and son nod as Daemon hums in acknowledgement. He takes out a piece of paper from his pocket and observes it.

"What are the chances that the one who tipped us of those cunts meeting was him?" A bitter grin graces Daemon's face.

"Kepa—"

Helaena suddenly stands, her hands shaking as she tries to hold her head. She shuts her eyes, her entire body trembling before she lets out a gasp. Pressing a hand against her chest, her lilac eyes are wide with shock. A vision, one that the gods have finally authorized. She turns to her family who are looking intently at her, pressing her hand to her chest as she whispers, "They think it is time… we are finally able to find him."

Hope . They felt hope. 

Luke was going to come home.

"Volantis. Start with Volantis."

Chapter Text

"What the hell is in Volantis?"

Aegon groaned as Jacaerys woke him up the moment the sun had risen. Although it was a wonderful sight to see his nephew looking over him, draped in sunlight as he shook him awake, the hangover he was suffering from deterred his joy. Still, Jace did look great.

"Get dressed. Daemon and grandmother wish to speak to us about our trip to Essos." Jace informs him, "Baela, of course, will be joining us. Helaena will catch up with us in due time, she deems it appropriate to stay back with mother being pregnant."

"Hm… But why do I have to go?" Aegon whined. He grabbed the blankets and covered himself with it, but Jace didn't hesitate to yank the cloth away from him. Lo and behold, Aegon was without a shirt.

"For fucks sake…" Jace grit his teeth and tossed the blanket on the ground. "Get dressed. We'll be departing for Volantis in two days. Whether you like it or not, we are getting Luke back— even if I have to knock him out."

Aegon smiled bitterly, "Sometimes I wish you were that possessive with me."

The prince falters, staring down at him. Cold and dark eyes softened as Jace sighed quietly, he ran a hand through his hair ans kept his eyes on Aegon. Quietly, Jace places a hand on Aegon's cheek and leans forward. 

Their lips meet for a few seconds — Aegon wishes it to last longer. But it didn't.

Jace pulled away immediately, a hand hovering over his mouth as a shade of pink stains his cheeks. Every single time he is the one to instigate the kiss, it is always Jace himself who moves away. Perhaps it was their bad history but Jace seemed to be incapable of touching Aegon for too long. It always ends with him moving away, looking at Aegon as if he burned him.

Silence reigns and Jace shuts his eyes tight. He lets out a shuddering breath before leaving the chambers without another word. He left Aegon, who sat on his bed with the tips of his fingers pressed against his lips. Silently, he savors the sensation of Jace's lips against his, the taste of him. With what little he is given, he will receive it gratefully. I deserve this, he tells himself as he gets up.

He has always felt jealous of a boy who wasn't even there. No matter how much he seems to care for Lucerys, the missing boy received more love than Aegon ever has. Perhaps he resents Luke for being so lovable, yet it would be hypocrisy. He also wanted his little nephew home. He missed little Lucerys, who followed Aegon around like a little duckling, sometimes asking to be carried by Aegon who would happily comply. Jace usually ended up whining, complaining that it was unfair for Aegon to carry Luke but not him.

He fondly remembers those times as he dresses himself.

It felt as though Lucerys carried the balance that created their family. It had been Lucerys who caused a shift and then the division of their family; it had been on driftmark eight years ago. Yet, when Luke disappeared three and a half years ago, their family had been brought together once more.

He was fascinated by such a thing.

"Where, oh, where have you gone, Lucerys?"

Aegon wondered if his brother would chase their nephew around like a hound after food.

The only ones who would be flying to Essos were: Jace, Aegon, Aemond, Daemon, and Baela. Rhaenys and Helaena would have flown with them but the two decided that taking care of Rhaenyra was a better choice. Although the regent was ready to mount Syrax, regardless of the babe in her womb — at the very least, she was making sure one of her children wasn't going to leave her while looking for another. They required Daemon and Alicent together to keep her calm and stable.

For now, Daemon and Rhaenys were telling him what to expect in Volantis.

"Daemon…" Rhaenys murmurs, narrowing her eyes at her cousin. "Aunt Saera is still in Volantis."

The rogue prince stiffened, eyes going wide as he stared at his cousin. The prospect of a simple word was… well, he couldn't accept it. Saera? The whore of house Targaryen, some bold fools called her back in the day. He pursed his lips, troubled by the thought of Luke having run off to Saera of all people. As much as he could not fault his aunt for leaving—the people scorned her for her freedom, something Daemon wished for as well—he was still hesitant to see her as a protective figure for Luke. 

Jace looks from Daemon to Rhaenys, a bewildered look on his face. He turns towards Baela, then to Aemond who was contemplating on the name they heard. It was familiar, it sounded Valyrian and was most likely a member of their family, considering how Daemon and Rhaenys referred to this Saera as their aunt. Aemond was sure he had read such a name in the history books of his family. From the title the two elders called this woman, she was part of his grandfather's generation.

A frown graced his lips as he tried to remember, and then it clicked. The numerous scandals that surrounded a single name. A woman sent to oldtown to become a septa yet escaped Westeros and started a notorious pleasure house. A vivid memory of Aegon literally cackling about a member of their family far worse than him when it came to debauchery comes to mind and Aemond goes rigid. His jaw goes slack as he stares at his aunt and uncle, who are avoiding his gaze. 

"Aunt… uncle… that is an absurd conclusion." Aemond grits his teeth.

"Absurd but possible. Saera would take him in. What are the chances of the two with Luke being her progenies?" Daemon scoffed, narrowing his eyes at the agitated look in Aemond's eye. 

"Who… Father, pray tell who Saera is? It seems you and Aemond will not share." Baela huffed, narrowing her eyes at her cousin and father. She spares Rhaenys one skeptical look before hurriedly looking away. If Baela was intimidated by someone in this room, it was Rhaenys.

"Ehem— well—"

"Saera Targaryen… now I remember that name." Aegon grinned, earning a glare from Daemon. "She's the center of a massive scandal that besmirched our family's name. The ninth child of Jaehaerys and Alysanne. Given to the faith as a maiden and fleeing the motherhouse to sail across the narrow sea… then forming a notorious pleasure house…"

Baela scowled as Jace sighed and shook his head. He sent a warning glare at Aegon who shrugged and leaned against the chair he was sitting on. His lilac eyes were drilling into Jace, who stared right back before nodding and looked towards his stepfather for confirmation. Although Aegon was displeased to see Jace look away from him, he merely clicked his tongue and kept silent for the rest of the conversation.

"The resident whore of the family then?"

"Do not…" Rhaenys warned, "Call her that. Among her siblings, Saera is the lone survivor. She is admirable for that."

Baela huffed, crossing her arms over her chest as she turned away from her grandmother. They were close, yes, but Baela was inevitably a wild card just like her father. She eventually grew out of the prim and proper lifestyle Rhaenys had set her in, becoming rather brash after Luke had flown off to Essos. Sometimes Aegon thinks that Lucerys had held the leash connected to her collar, but he knew better than that. Baela was a replica of her father with her mother's angelic appearance. It made her so much more dangerous than Daemon.

"What now? I don't suppose we should track down Saera." Baela narrowed her eyes on her father.

Daemon nodded, "That is the first step of our plans. Prepare your things and dress modestly. When we depart for Volantis, we must not be dressed as royalty. If we do so, it will alert Lucerys immediately."

"Our clothing will not do much. Once dragons are sighted, Lucerys will flee." Aemond commented.

"Yes… that is why we will land near Valysar and go by horse after that. Our dragons will know where we will be." Daemon further explained.

Aemond nodded, but continued to grimace. Vhagar was the biggest of their dragons. He would be the first to be sighted and there would be no doubt that Lucerys would run at the mere mention of Aemond. It had been he who caused Luke to run faster than normal. Something about that fact made Aemond grit his teeth and close his eye. He didn't like it.

He had long since shifted his hatred for Lucerys, for taking his eye, to a sort of possessiveness. He wanted Lucerys —that he couldn't deny— and he would do anything to see his nephew again. That simple glimpse at the street of silk had been a wondrous experience for Aemond but seeing Lucerys so close to someone else. Someone with silver hair and lilac eyes just like him made him angry. Why not him? Why someone who could be the grandchildren of a notorious whore? Why couldn't Lucerys stay and be with him?

Why did the gods have to take Lucerys from them?

"His dagger…" Daemon murmured, looking pointedly at the unfocused Aemond.

The one-eyed prince blinked in surprise before staring at Daemon. His lips parted to speak, nothing coming out but he nodded nonetheless. He had taken great care of the dagger named Midnight . He made sure to polish it stared at the valyrian letters etched into the steel. Bantāzma . It was an elegant and simple name for a blade, befitting of Lucerys. Aemond had kept it safe in a velvet box, sometimes keeping it under his pillow as he slept. Regardless, the dagger was safe.

He took it out of a perfectly made sheathe that wouldn't leave a scratch, although he doubted it—Valyrian steel was stronger than almost all steel. Reluctantly, he presented it to Daemon who took it into his hands and continued to examine it. There was a fascinated glint in those violet eyes that made Aemond's stomach churn.

"Pure valyrian Steel," he said, "I don't doubt that Aunt Saera could procure one of these for him." 

"It is still questionable why Aunt Saera would take in Lucerys. I doubt that him being her kin would be a good enough reason. I had heard rumors that she sent my father away when he sought shelter from her in her te in Volantis… I suppose it is my father's own fault— he turned her away when she looked for refuge in him when King Jaehaerys threatened to banish her." Rhaenys murmured, grimacing at her father's actions. She could not vividly remember but she could recall a time where Saera had come knocking on the door of her parents quarters and begged for their help. Unfortunately, Aemon had turned her away.

"Lucerys is a child, she is humane enough to take pity and care for him… but I do wonder how Lucerys came to the knowledge of Saera's existence in Volantis."

"It is still confirmed that Lucerys is aware of Saera. For all we know, Helaena has simply sent us to Volantis for information. Those children with Luke might just be of Valyrian descent."

Daemon and Rhaenys stared at each other, willing to contradict the other for a possible conclusion. Lucerys' disappearance was unnerving in itself, but the fact the second son of their princess regent had come running home, accompanied by two silver haired youths was questionable. Daemon thinks it had been Lucerys who wrote a letter to them, warning them of the conspiracies Vaemond and Otto were colluding in. It had been a good warning and he questions what Lucerys has done for the past three years.

Rhaenys finds it suspicious. Months before Lucerys flew away, he had started to drag Rhaena to his lessons with Corlys. Making sure that she would learn what he was taught. At first, Rhaenys and Corlys thought it was because Luke expected to be engaged to Rhaena and she would need to be fully aware of his duties. But then it became strange. Lucerys would have Rhaena perform the duties he was supposed to be responsible for, as if knowing that she would be the one to replace him as heir of driftmark rather than Joffrey. Inevitably, Rhaenys suspects that his departure had long since been planned, rather than actions done in the spur of the moment.

Lucerys had planned his actions, carefully calculated what he would do next. He had carefully integrated Rhaena into the role of heir of Driftmark and had even gotten used to the idea. He chose a perfect night where none of the dragon keepers or knights would notice him sneak on to Arrax and fly off without any further issues. Rhaenys is troubled that a boy of ten and three can scheme so perfectly. 

Jace sighed, “Enough… We shall discuss more of Saera after we’ve found Luke.” He stated, frowning at his stepfather and grandmother. The two were mature enough to stay silent and nod in agreement.

Jace just wanted his brother back.

“FUCKING SHIT!” Aenar yelled as he hopped off Gray Ghost’s back and stumbled on the ground. He was breathing heavily, pressing a hand against his chest as he tried to calm his fast-beating heart. The chase had been stressful and even though they had gone to the air, he still couldn't help but fear for his life. The Targaryen’s had their own dragons, they could have chased them even in the sky. It had been stressful but a sick part of him enjoyed the chase.

“Sister, was that not wonderfully awful? I think it was a brilliant exercise for us.” He sarcastically spat out, helping Naeryn dismount her dragon. He turned to Lucerys, who stayed on Arrax just a little longer.

Then, he turned back to Naeryn, eyes softening as his gaze met with a shade of pale lilac. Unlike the soft color of Naeryn’s eyes, Aenar possessed a darker shade of purple for eyes. 

“Rion, are you okay mate? Not gonna vomit out your guts?”

Luke shook his head, hopping off Arrax's saddle and glancing at their surroundings.

They hadn’t gone to Volantis. No, that would be risky. Lucerys concluded that his family would have gone straight to Saera. He needed to send a letter to her immediately.

“Make haste. I must write to Saera about this. They will surely come for her if they have Helaena dreaming of my location.”

“If our grandmother—”

“Your grandmother is their aunt. They shan’t harm Saera.” Lucerys assured, pulling the cloak over him and softly pressed his fingers against his lip. He frowned, shaking his head before he glanced back at Naeryn and Aenar, who were checking their weapons. It made him frown, saddened by the fact he had to abandon one of his most favored weapons to flee. Midnight had been his most favorite out of his four daggers. 

“Hurry now… the city is not too far.”

“Why have we situated our base in Braavos?" Aenar groaned, sighing as he looked upon the titan of Braavos. 

"Sentiment upon its name… and the fact that we gain more clients here than in Pentos." Lucerys hummed, tracking down a hill to the edge of the waters. He spies a ship sailing into the lagoon, narrowing his eyes at its crew. "I've grown fond of Braavos. The skies are cloudy enough for our dragons to roam and stay hidden. Truthfully, I also wish to keep an eye on my father… who is frolicking around here with his lover."

Lucerys did not hate Laenor. Not really. He resented the man for abandoning them, for furthering his fear of fire once he heard of Ser Harwin's death. Once Melisandre revealed to him that it had been his mother's plan to… falsify Laenor's death to wed Daemon, he had to admit that he had a little hatred for his mother. 

"Lucerion," Naeryn referred to him with his alias. Within Pentos, Lucerys Velaryon was a long lost prince that the family of dragons were desperately searching for. But—Lucerion Blackfyre was another thing.

"That's one of our ships!" Naeryn pointed to the ship with black sails—stitched into the sails with white and gold thread was a sun and moon-like sigil that Lucerys was very familiar with. He had seen Melisandre draw it on paper, stitched it into the side of his cloak. The very mark he has been using for the past three years.

"Naeryn… you know what to do." Lucerys' once cheery persona faded as he opened his satchel and searched for a piece of his outfit that he would be needing. The mask Melisandre had commissioned for him was intact, perfect with its black coloring and little golden detail by the edges. He carefully placed it on his face and pulled his hood up. He glanced towards the siblings and both had also grabbed their masks out of the satchel. 

Lucerys had worked hard to make this all possible. He had done everything just to make sure he would live peacefully while making sure none of his family would die as he continued to live.

He takes in a deep breath, tilting his head from side to side. Lucerys is different from Lucerion, he has to remind himself. Although different, both were the same. Still, it made it easier for him to navigate through his new life. As Lucerion, he was more assertive and harsh, unlike his original self. This was required of him, to survive and live a long life. He couldn't just let himself relax, not now. Not when Helaena could dream of where he was and lead his family to the guild he had created for his own peace.

Aenar tied a long black and gold ribbon to the arrow. The sun and moon sigil stitched onto it, but were accompanied by the letters L.B. on it.

Naeryn aimed her crossbow, taking a second before she shot it onto the ship.

They hear a commotion on the ship and the sound of arrows being withdrawn. But, for a moment, the members of the crew pause. Lucerys carefully listens to a voice yell at them to hold their fire, he assumes it is the captain. A dark skinned woman with dark hair—dirty blonde strands decorating her curly hair—lean against the edge and stare at them. Her eyes grow wide as she yells at her men to stop the boat, to lead it to them.

"Welcome the master!" Lucerys hears her yell as a plank was dropped to let them get on the ship. As per usual, Lucerys is the one leading them.

The woman, the captain of the ship, salutes to him and so does the rest of the crew.

"I welcome the master of the equinox guild on board my ship." She says, "I am—"

"Serylea Osterah. I know." Lucerys calmly says.

Captain Osterah's jaw goes slack before she shakes her head and smiles brightly. "Tis an honor to be recognized by the master."

"No need… Jaeros speaks highly of you, captain of the cuervos. " Lucerys observes the deck carefully, he does not allow his eyes to linger upon the eager looking crew.

He remembers Jaeros talking about one of the ships that they had owned. The captain of the ship being an eccentric woman who knew the sea like the back of her hand. But other than her wonderful pillaging skills, she was a superb informant. Serylea Osterah was a good information gatherer and had helped recruit some guildmembers.

"Oh, I— thank you very much, my Lord." Captain Osterah falters, but accepts the compliment nonetheless. "Might I be so bold to ask why… you are outside the city?"

"That… is not something to be discussed in public." Lucerys states, offering a mildly apologetic look to the crew members. 

Captain Osterah nods, her eyes darkening as she orders her crew to set sail into the lagoon. They are lead to a cabin, most likely the captains private office. Captain Osterah offers her own seat to Lucerys, who—with a fair amount of reluctance—sat on the vacant chair and glanced at Naeryn and Aenar. The two nodded, addressing Captain Osterah themselves.

"I am grateful that you did not shoot us. Apologies for the fright with my arrow, it was the easiest way to gain your attention." Naeryn apologizes.

"Not at all, Lady Rynvel." Captain Osterah assures, chuckling softly as she returns the arrow to Naeryn.

"Lord Aeric…" the captain nods to Aenar.

As Lucerion was Luke's alias, Rynvel and Aeric, somewhat odd but close enough to their original names that they wouldn't forget. Naeryn's alias consisted of the last three letters of her name being the first three and then an additional of three more letters. The last three letters of Aenar's name were also replaced. 

"There was an utmost meeting that I had to attend. Our departure was secret and we wish to keep our return as discreet as possible. No one outside of the priestess and Jaeros knows that we have left the city, we wish to keep it that way." Lucerys states and captain Osterah nods in understanding.

"Of course, master. My crew will keep their mouths shut."

"My thanks captain."

Lucerys tries not to gulp. Not many of his guildmembers knew his real identity. When his guild was first made, members were skeptical of him. That is, until Melisandre fabricated his story. Lucerion Blackfyre, a bastard of a great valyrian house that rose from the ashes and built an empire within the shadows. Many suspected him of being a Targaryen—they were right, of course, but there were other theories of who he actually was. Rumors of him being the last member of a great valyrian house that wasn't the Targaryens swarmed Braavos. They thought him a survivor of a secret house of dragonriders and were wary.

Lucerys liked to keep to this farce. He would abandon the eager child he was and adorne a mask of indifference. He was a harsh yet fair leader amongst the ranks of his guild. No one knew his age, some even spoke of him being immortal like Melisandre.

"Have issues raised within the guild?" Aenar questions.

"No sir. Jaeros had kept the members on a tight leash. From what I have heard, the de lune squad has been dispatched to Volantis upon the request of the great Mistress Saera."

Aenar glances at Naeryn, nodding at her.

De Lune was a team within his guild designed solely for Saera. They played the roles of prostitutes to gain information, while also playing the roles of assassins for Luke and Saera if need be. Lucerys wonders why Saera has called for them again. Perhaps, this time, it was to kill someone.

"I see…" Lucerys murmurs, "Well done captain. For now, I would like you to lead the ship into the lagoon. I wish to discuss something with Aeric and Rynvel." 

Captain Osterah bows, a bright smile on her face as she exits her own office. Aenar is quick to lock the door and slump to the floor. He slides of the wall, trying not to groan as he removed the mask that covers half his face. He offers a tired smile at his sister and Luke.

"Well… that was horrid."

"Don't complain." Naeryn rolls her eyes, removing her own mask, one that was white with gold details, opposite to her brothers who had a black mask. "Osterah is the one who sacked those pirates who didn't honor the deal Jaeros made with them, right?"

"Yes… the captain of the crow ship , some say." Lucerys sighed, removing the mask that covered his entire face. "Why did Saera call for De Lune?" 

"Hell if I know. Grandmother most likely wants someone dead this time though. I remember her wanting to get rid of that damned merchant that has been harassing her girls." Aenar snorts. "Also, why am I Aeric ? Rynvel and Lucerion are so much better than mine. Sounds plain."

"You're the one who named yourself. Don't complain." Naeryn repeats, huffing as she glances at Luke. "What now?"

"Now… we return to our base and discuss with Melisandre. The best way to fight a dreamer is with an all-knowing priestess."

Lucerys just hopes that Melisandre knows what to do.

He never expected Helaena of all people to be a nuisance in his plan.

Let the gods be merciful… Balerion, Arrax… give me strength, give me patience… let me live in peace , he begs and hopes those gods will hear his plea.

Balerion always listens to him after all… but he now doubts the will of the other gods who can hear his prayers.

Saera did not expect her nephew to come flying on the ferocious Caraxes, the same dragon her elder brother Aemon rode. Her eyes narrowed as she spied four more dragons following him. Three were green, one was gold. Among the three dragons, she immediately recognizes one. 

Vhagar , she grimaces and curses Lucerys for whatever chaos he's caused this time. The boy had been fairly quiet for the past months, of course something was stirring. Now, it came knocking upon her door as she carefully watched four silver haired individuals marching into Volantis. One of them had the same hair of Lucerys, His brother , she realizes. 

Her eyes glance upon the letter Melisandre had sent, warning her.

Saera… 

Visions have shown me trouble. Daemon will speak to you about our Prince, along with four dragonlings. You mustn't tell them where he is. Our future will become ashes if they find him now.

They must find him on their own. It is the will of our gods.

Melisandre. 

She silently cursed the Priestess, silently shaking her head as she fiddled with the silver necklace her mother had gifted her all those years ago. She hasn't had any contact with the Targaryens since Aemon had come to speak to her and she immediately sent him back to King's Landing. Lucerys was an exception, of course. That boy was more Blackfyre than Targaryen now and she hoped, silently, that her Aenar and Naeryn would bear that name one day. Lucerys has claimed them as family, they will surely become Blackfyres in due time.

The complexity of Lucerys' situation was troubling but a part of her, the dragon within her, loved the challenge. The gods have led that troublesome boy to her and she has taken him as her own. Lucerys was her grandchild just as much as Aenar and Naeryn. 

Awaiting the arrival of her wretched nephew, she sips on her tea and takes a deep breath. There is a knock, a shaky voice cutting through the thick walls. It is muffled but she recognizes it. 

"Let them in," she says with reluctance.

The doors open and Daemon swaggers into her office with a cocky smirk she recognizes. The same smirk she once proudly wore as she committed debauchery upon king's landing in her youth. She smiles bitterly at him, glancing at the four youths following him. 

"Hello nephew, I did not expect you to come here." She chuckles darkly.

"I suppose not. One of my hatchlings has disappeared and we are in search of him." Daemon declared, mirth in his eyes as he looked upon her. Saera recognizes the dark sister upon his hip, bristling before she calms herself. She has been around Valyrian Steel blades before—specifically, Lucerys' Reaper's Ruin . "Have you seen him? My dear son, Lucerys."

The name…

"No, but I have heard rumors of your boy. Some have called him the Rainy Prince , as his dragon is sighted dancing in rain clouds." She shakes her head.

They cannot know where he is.

"The dragon, I do not know the name—"

"Arrax." The dark haired boy says. Saera assumes he is Jacaerys, the elder brother of her boy. He looks similar to Lucerys but not enough. Whilst Lucerys resembles Rhaenyra, Aemma, and last but not least, Daella, this boy clearly took after his father. There was no shame in being a bastard but Saera had wished the boy looked more like her sister. She may have been kinder in this situation if he did.

But then again… she turns towards the boy with an eye patch, unable to help but compare his features to Baelon. They looked similar, just as Daemon took after his father in terms of appearances.

"The ruler of the gods…" she murmured, "This Arrax has been sighted in Myr and Qohor."

They cannot know , she thinks again, lead them elsewhere. 

"Is that all?" Daemon raised a brow, scrutinizing her. Of course, he knew she was hiding something. "Did you know… that Lucerys had returned to king's landing five days ago?" 

Saera raised a questioning brow at him, "Then why have you come here if he's returned?"

"He returned… only for a moment. He escaped from our grasp… alongside two silver haired youths." He sharply mentioned the two accomplices. 

Saera does her best not to show a hint of her worry and frustration, "Valyrian children? As I said, his dragon was sighted in Myr and Qohor. Many survivors of the doom have taken refuge there and our hair color is not as rare as it is in Westeros."

Daemon nods, frowning as he lets out a frustrated sigh. "It seems we have been judged wrong. I assumed he had run to you." He admits and Saera almost laughs.

"Me?" She frowns, "The boy most likely does not know I exist. Why would he come to me?" 

"Good point…" one of the youths murmured. Her eyes narrow upon a wavy haired boy, the scent of alcohol, wine, and sex sticking to his skin like glue. She assumed that one was Aegon—the Hightower genes were clear in that boy's face. The tall one with an eye patch is clearly Aemond but the girl with them is a tricky guess. Saera only knows she is either Baela or Rhaena, one of Daemon's daughters. 

"Nephew, do not think of nonsense. Be reasonable." She scoffs, mildly mocking him. But internally, she was concerned. Daemon was right, Lucerys had come to her. He had known of her through his priestess. 

Not only did she need to protect Lucerys location, but also Melisandre's existence. They cannot know that Luce is aided by a priestess, they can't, she pursed her lips and shook her head. She could only imagine the danger they would be in if Daemon and Rhaenyra were told of their son's involvement with a red priestess. 

"Do not cause me trouble, nephew. I have lived decades in peace without the meddling of our family. I will not let you disrupt the peace I have made for myself." She declared, scowling at them, neither will I let you destroy the peace Lucerys has created for himself. 

"Leave me… find your son elsewhere. He is not here, if he were, I'd ship him back to Westeros." She lied. 

She wouldn't have allowed Lucerys to return. He ran away for a reason, just as she did. She wouldn't just abandon a child who clearly wanted to be free of the shackles of their family. The Targaryens trapped their kin with duty and responsibilities that would get them killed. Saera must remind herself of this. She was the only one alive among her siblings and she had escaped the fate that tethered them to misery. Lucerys did not deserve that.

He ran away to survive and she admires him for that.

If Luke was not ready to reunite with his family then so be it. She will help hide him, she will keep him safe along with her grandchildren and lie to Daemon of all people. They would be safe and she would be content with it.

"Leave Daemon… you will not find anything here."

They cannot find him. I will not let you ruin the life he has created.

Chapter Text

They heard death march as gods stiffened. Darkness shrouded the corners of the astral plane they resided in, unable to flee as a dark entity fell into the room. It was a throne room, circular with different thrones for each of the gods. The throne, in particular, was a bit bigger than the rest. The throne of their leader, their supposed king. Golden eyes narrow as pitch black hair that cascaded down its owners back like flames and fiery eyes scanned the room.

"Which one of you sent Helaena dreams?!" Balerion snapped as the shadow beneath his feet writhed. The veil they usually wore was discarded, showing his fury in all its glory.

Arrax narrowed his eyes once more, looking over the room. Dreams were sent to mortals by gods who deemed them fit to play prophet. However, almost all of them could send dreams to someone of Valyrian descent. If Balerion rage was unrestrained then someone has finally tested the god of death's patience by giving the Targaryens clues of Lucerys' location. Admittedly, Arrax himself did not want to disclose such information to the Targaryens, hoping that the mortal whose soul was precious  would be able to live a happy life. 

But alas, one of them was bound to stir up trouble for the unfortunate boy.

"Answer me!" 

"Be calm," Arrax ordered, giving Balerion a warning stare. The god of death bared his teeth at them, unable to hide his own fury as he glared at every single god present. "Answer him," Arrax repeated.

For a moment, all is silent and Arrax could sense Balerion's rage boiling once more. He glares at the gods, not allowing them a second warning. They must answer.

"Why must you keep them from him? Their love for the boy is so majestic that it is only fair for him to experience!"

Balerion's blood red eyes snap towards a goddess in particular. The goddess herself was in possession of red eyes, but they were not the color of blood. There was a pinkish hue to her optics, akin to that of a rose if one wishes to compare it to something. She pouts at Balerion, taking a stand as she removes her own veil and displays the godly beauty she possessed among the gods. Her appearance seemed obscure, shifting from one to another to appease the tastes of those around her. Arrax sees her true self, not having a personal preference.

"You!" Balerion pointed an accusing finger at her, "You fucking fiend! I sent him away from the Targaryens to protect him and you do this?! You lead them to him, endangering his life to a fate of kinslaying?!" 

"You exaggerate!" Meleys huffed, "Lucerys is a sweet child. He deserves to be showered in the love everyone will give him. Why must he be deprived of more love? Why must he be limited to so little company—" 

"This isn't about love ," Meleys gasps at his words, "This is about his safety. You are putting my zaldrītsos in danger by showing his family where he is. Have you no shame? Have you no mercy for him?" 

Meleys scowl at his words, but she falters. Perhaps she hadn't thought of anything but love. 

"He has created a life for himself, peace that he deserves! You have ruined it all by allowing Helaena to dream!" 

"Had he not rushed back to Westeros to help his cousin then perhaps I would not have been given the chance to do so!" 

"You speak of love and yet you ignore it when Lucerys risks it for someone else! At the very least, the boy would have been able to escape without his family seeing him, but no!" Balerion stomps his foot on the floor and glares at Meleys. "You give Helaena visions and expose him! Are you so blind to what Aemond Targaryen feels for him? That is not love!"

Meleys' eyes flare, fire burning within rosy eyes. "It is love! You simply do not understand it!"

"You do not kill someone you love!" Balerion argues, refusing to believe that the one-eyed prince would be able to harbor any love for Luke. The same menace who chased Lucerys into the storm, practically feeding him and his dragon to the war-dragon that was named after Vhagar. He refused, it was absurd!

"That never stopped Vhagar from loving Aerea!"

The god of war froze, eyes going wide as he stared at Meleys, who went silent at her own words. Rose hued eyes widened, opening her mouth to apologize but Arrax lost his patience.

"Enough! Both of you." Arrax ordered, glancing at the frozen and distraught Vhagar.

For them, time had barely passed since Aerea's death. The wound was still fresh upon the god of war's being. Vhagar clenched his fist, refusing to look anyone in the eye as he quietly cursed under his breath. Why did Meleys have to include that unfortunate girl? Not only has it upset Vhagar but it has thoroughly provoked Balerion. 

"Balerion, I said enough!" 

The god of death, albeit reluctantly, backed down and crossed his arms over his chest. Some could hear the grinding of his teeth, anger flowing through the air as Meleys bit at her nails. She narrowed her eyes at Balerion, the other god returning it with more ferocity.

"We cannot do anything now… Lucerys will be hunted by his family."

"Because that bitch thinks it's a good idea to meddle with my Lucy's life!" Balerion pointed yet another accusing finger at Meleys.

"Balerion…" Arrax warned.

"It's true…" Balerion snapped before turning on his heel and vanishing from the room. He left the rest of the gods, quiet and apprehensive of what will happen next. Balerion wasn't the only one who was fond of Lucerys.

"What you've done is foolish."

"It is necessary." Meleys insists.

"Regardless…" Arrax murmurs.

Someone laughs, causing Meleys to glare at the god taking a sip of perfectly good wine. Syrax grins viciously at her, a mocking look that Tessarion tried to hide from the angered Meleys.

"You down right fucked up on this one." Syrax laughs, "Love— if you are so insistent that love must be given to that boy then Balerion is enough. He's done so much… reversing time just for a single mortal who's significance isn't as grand as his mother's." He cackles, taking a sip of his wine. He doesn't pay attention to the fuming goddess, who's ready to throw fireballs at his face.

"I'm on Balerion's side for this." Syrax declares.

"Meleys has a point!" Gaelithox scoffs.

"But Balerion is more logical in this situation. Why drag the poor thing back into the clutches of those who've killed him?" Tyraxes scrutinizes the god of fire and stars.

Then it began. A miniature civil war between gods. Meleys vs. Balerion. Love vs. Death. The gods took sides as Arrax watched it all unfold. He took a glimpse of Vhagar, who shook his head and tried to drown himself in Syrax's wine. The god of war hadn't taken a side, ironic really. Arrax silently understands him, keeping neutral as he looks down upon the chaos of the mortal realm. Golden eyes watch a dark haired young man look into a mirror and see red rather than brown. 

He sees Balerion's influence take effect and Lucerys looks upon the eyes of death that have clung to him.

Equinox; a guild that had been established almost four years ago by a red priestess, the owner of a pleasure house, and a boy who was beloved by the gods. Braavos was where its base was situated and has been a steady source of information for years now. But Equinox was not a simple information guild. After some time, information became one of the few things the guild could get.

Sellswords, mercenaries were employed into the guild. The mercenary faction of Equinox was led by the great warrior Jaeros and Lord Aeric — one of the mysterious confidants of the guildmaster. Both monitored and supervised the mercenaries under them, giving out missions to those suitable enough to accept. Although Jaeros was the one mainly doing the work, Aeric was known to have analyzed the missions and dispatched the best people for it. 

But there was also another faction of the guild that was reserved for extremely loyal clients. Contracts were made, loyalty was tested, and tongues were cut off when this part of Equinox was publicly announced to someone who wasn't contracted. The assassination faction was led by the mysterious red priestess and Lady Rynvel — who were assumed to be part of the information gathering part of the guild. Rynvel closely watched their assassins and would bestow proper punishment to those who failed or were caught during their missions. 

Last but not least, the very reason why the guild was created in the first place. Information. The guildmaster, Lucerion Blackfyre , was the one in charge of the information gathering. Not many understood why it was the head of the information department that was leading the guild, until someone experienced the brutal blackmail and extortion of the illusive guildmaster. Without information, the missions of mercenaries and assassins would not go as smoothly as expected. Guildmaster Lucerion closely supervised his people, knowing everything about them and that made him intimidating. 

It was terrifying but many chose to follow someone so fearsome.

"Are we really going to believe her?" Aemond scoffed, walking out the brothel and taking long strides to stay beside Daemon. He narrows his eye at his uncle, gritting his teeth at the man's silence. For a moment, Daemon seems to ignore him but he simply shakes his head. 

"Partially… We don't know enough for us to suspect anything, but she's hiding something. It might be Lucerys, it might not. All we know is that her words hold truth." Daemon murmurs, "Arrax was sighted near Myr and Qohor two moons ago. If Lucerys is hiding somewhere between those two cities then we must check."

"There were a fair few silver-haired whores in there…" Aegon murmured, glancing back at the pleasure house, "Do you think any of those are her children?"

"Maybe." Jace replies, shuddering. He didn't want to remember the sight of a silver haired lad being kissed by a man with dark hair. It made him gulp, shaking his head as Jace tried to remove that image from his mind. His efforts are futile, taking in a deep breath and lowering his head. Aegon would see how red he was, maybe tease him later for it. But that's besides the point. Why did it have to be that combination specifically? And both were men too… 

"Are you alright, nephew?" Aegon whispers into his ear.

Jace barely hides his shudder, nodding quietly. There's a mischievous gleam in Aegon's eyes and Jace begins to pray for mercy. Maybe that was the wrong thing to do.

"Let us—" Baela loudly coughs, causing Jace to jolt. He sends her a glare but the girl only smirks at his embarrassment, "return to our dragons. The faster we are to Myr, the better." She hurries to her father's side, opposite only to Aemond. A small glance to Jace and Aegon, she nods and silently tells them to continue their whispering.

"I hate her…" Jace murmured, annoyed at his sister's cheekiness. But Aegon seems to be much more amused.

"She's wonderful," he says and Jace knows it is a rare thing to hear. Aegon and Baela were at odds, situations like this were the few they agreed on.

"Both of you, stop dallying and make haste!" Aemond yells, glaring at them.

Jace wants to find his brother and then maybe Luke could distract Aemond for a time.

“Should I send one of our assassins?” Naeryn suggests as she looks over the paperwork that had piled on her desk. She found it inconvenient to wallow in her own office, having dragged her troubles to Lucerys’ office where she found her brother—who shared her idea. The siblings either checked their work or lounged on a seat with a glass of wine in hand.

Lucerys, owner of the office and guild master, shook his head as he scowled at the two. He had recently received grim news of Daemon’s arrival to Volantis. It had been a close call for them but his decision was the best course of action. They wouldn’t be going anywhere near Volantis any time soon. Unfortunately, they would have to rely on their informants to send letters to Saera if they wanted information to be protected. Daemon was not against stealing from messengers or even shooting down ravens. 

Naeryn meticulously reads the reports of one of their assassins. Another regarding the fools who have targeted the regent of Westeros. Of course, the fools were easily disposed of when Lucerys found out. A body wasn't even found—burning was an order they often received when disposing of someone. Horrible, yes, but efficient in ways you could not describe. No evidence was found and the crown needn’t know of the schemes. Naeryn knew that Lucerys would deal with it; no matter how much love he has for his family, he wasn’t going to risk his happiness for it. Working in the shadows was the best option for him. 

The most recent report regarded Otto Hightower and the Lannister twins. Yet another scheme to usurp Rhaenyra, starting with the removal of Jacaerys, then Joffrey, then Aegon II, then Viserys II. She scowled. Three were but children and they wished to kill them. It was disgusting really and she could not wait to order another assassination.

"Not yet… be patient." He murmurs.

“Has Melisandre arrived?” Lucerys asked, looking up from his paper. Their guild master rubbed his eyes, hissing quietly before he ran a hand over his face. He adjusted his gloves until he was satisfied and they were secure on his hands.

“No. Jaeros did say she wanted to visit Asshai moons ago. Perhaps they will arrive today, considering the urgency.” Naeryn states. 

Melisandre had departed long before they ran off to Westeros for the trial. Luke had been concerned, insisting that Melisandre must wait for them. His paranoia was at its peak. When the red priestess and Jaeros had left for some unknown location, Lucerys had nearly thrown a fit. Rare, but expected with how attached he was to the priestess. Naeryn thinks of her as Luke’s second mother, they were not related by blood but she was his mother. Even Arrax would closely watch her, nuzzling his snout into her hand if she reached for the white dragon. 

"They must…" Lucerys murmurs, rubbing his gloved hands together.

Naeryn narrows her eyes at that action and so does Aenar. When absent for too long, the lack of Melisandre often affects Lucerys' demeanor. It was a questionable thing but they simply assume that it was due to her being a motherly figure to him. 

"Well, since he has yet to return… I will oversee the mercenaries for now." Aenar sighs, "Both of you needn't be concerned for the loud fools."

"Your mercs must be quieter… they attract too much attention."

"Is it not the attention that brings forth our fortune?" Aenar raises a brow, smirking at them. "As I said, do not worry. I have more control over those swellswords than you think."

"I hope so." Naeryn murmured as Aenar exited the office. She turns back towards Lucerys, who nervously scrawls something on a piece of paper before he frowned, and tossed it into the fire.

"Something bothering you?"

"Aside from the fact that Daemon is searching for me, nothing…"

"One of the De Lune assassins have sent word…" she whispers, "Daemon arrived in Volantis days ago."

"Now I have something worse to worry about." Lucerys sarcastically drawls. He grits his teeth, running a hand through his hair as he looks down at his papers. "Was he accompanied?"

"Aegon, Aemond, Jacaerys, and Baela. Grandmother suspects that they will be calling for Helaena soon." 

Luke pursed his lips, "That will be a problem."

"Is that why you wish for Melisandre to hurry?" 

"I must confess: her presence might steer Helaena away from me."

“‘Tis not a shame to be…afraid.” She insists, knowing that her words would be proven useless in this situation. No matter the trust Lucerys had in them, there were limits to it. 

“Not a shame to feel fear but it has its risks.” Lucerys stands, walking towards his window. Aenar had declared it to be awful considering the placement of Luke’s table (to which Luke replied: if a window was behind him, he could be assassinated easily). There were two windows, symmetrical to each other while Luke’s table was placed in a blind spot.

“Not a shame but a weakness.”

A weakness, she doesn’t like the sound of it. Fear made them human. Naeryn has scoured books and lived with the scent of ink in her nose for years. For all the books she’s read, fear was something a character often lacked. They were portrayed as fearless and untouchable. It was unrealistic to her. Whenever she reads about these kinds of characters in literature her mind drifts away and she concludes that these aren’t human. Not that she was completely human. She was Targaryen progeny, a family who’s been said to be part dragon.

She closed her eyes, silently contemplating on what else to say. The issue about Lucerys is that he’s been through a lot. She doesn’t know what he’s been through but she knows it is burdensome. Melisandre speaks in riddles when it comes to her little prince, whispering of the misfortune he’s gone through and the necessity of his departure from his family. Whatever cruel thing the gods have decided, they made Luke abandon his family. Even from afar, he protects them in his own way. It’s saddening.

Silence reigned between them. As Naeryn scanned through the reports, signing on the ones she approved of, Lucerys was gazing out the window. She doesn’t know what is lurking outside the building but she bets it's not interesting. Her report, on the other hand, is. A troubling discovery that one of their spies have made. She is on her feet, muttering about inconsistency and foolishness.

— The triarchy has been active in Tyrosh for approximately fifteen days now. Soldiers have been more aggressive, trying to retake the stepstones. Spies have been dispatched and are undercover as triarchy soldiers to discover the plans of the high council. Discoveries were made of alliances with Westerosi lords against the regent princess, Rhaenyra Targaryen.

Seven nights ago, a letter that was confirmed to be from Otto Hightower had arrived at the Triarchy High council. Contents of the letter are still unknown and in the process of being studied. Report regarding the letter will be returned in the estimated time of five nights.

“Five nights?” She frowned, “That is too long.”

“What is it for?”

“Otto Hightower’s letter to the triarchy. Our spies have confirmed he is in contact with them but the contents have yet to be known.” She scowled, handing him the report. “They’re getting sloppy.”

Lucerys nods. Usually, the maximum time that was required to procure information was three nights when it came to undercover spies. The fact that they need five is troubling. Their spies are either getting sloppy or the mission itself is difficult. 

“I’ll have to start a training program when they return.”

“Don’t be too harsh on them. I do not want my spies to be crippled.”

“You jest. I wouldn’t dream of wasting talent. They simply need to maintain their skills and stop lazing around.” Naeryn sighed, shaking her head as she took the paper back from Lucerys. “Rest now, my prince.”

Lucerys raised a brow, “My prince, really?”

“Are you not a prince?”

“Had your grandmother stayed in Westeros you and Aen would be the same as me.” He chuckled.

Naeryn suspects that Aenar would like to be a prince. She doesn’t think the burden would be a good look on her.

“The horror.”

“Sir Aeric.”

Aenar sighed at the simple alias. Ryn and Lucy’s aliases sounded so much better than his own. Aeric ; it’s fucking generic that contradicted to who he was. Why did he have to get that stupid alias.

“Yes? This better be urgent,” but it did feel nice to act like a scary and intimidating boss around people.

“Uhm… ehem— sir—” the mercenary gulped as Aenar stared darkly at them. Half his face was covered and only his eyes and a bit of his hair were left. Dark purple eyes were what the mercenary saw, staring into his soul and making him fidget.

Within Equinox, Aeric was the higher-up that enjoyed watching his underlings suffer. A sadist, they claim. Rynvel was strict, but she didn’t take joy in the suffering of her people. Aeric was… not as strict but he was certainly cruel when the mercenaries failed at their tasks. Troublesome swellswords were not properly welcomed under Jaeros and Aeric. Unlike the assassins, the swellswords were not troubled by secrecy and  stealth… mostly.

“We’ve experienced a little trouble with the…erm… triarchy.”

“What? Don’t tell me one of you dunderheads have accepted a commission from them?” Aenar glared at them, “The guild master specifically instructed that we are not to accept anything from them! Have you idiots forgotten the trouble they have caused with our partner, Lady Saera? They’re backstabbing cunts that won’t honor the contract that they willingly signed. If I hear that you’ve accepted a single coin from them…”

How dare they, he didn’t like the triarchy. Not for the same reason as Luke. No, those bastards nearly ransacked Volantis and had targeted his grandmother. Apparently, her being a Targaryen was enough reason for them to go after her. The only thing that stopped them was her supposed dislike or her own family. (Saera was a wonderful actress.)

“Of course not sir!” The man denied quickly, “A group of our mercs— five of them— accepted a commission in Myr. The mission was to fight against Triarchy. They returned days ago and have reported some concerning facts.”

“Well get on with it! Lucerion will need to hear about this if it’s about the kingdom of the three whores.” Aenar narrowed his eyes at the mercenary.

Information regarding the Triarchy was carefully handled. It had practically been an order to the entire guild to report anything strange about the triarchy or new information about it. A necessary requirement that the three of them happily agreed on. Aenar and Naeryn because those bastards nearly harmed their grandmother and cousins and Luke with the triarchy trying to kill his family. 

“Chains, sir. The triarchy are in possession of chains for… for dragons? I am still unaware as to why—”

“That’s enough. You’ve done well but for now, check on the others. I have a feeling that we’ll get more issues with the bloody triarchy.” Aenar dismissed, nodding in gratitude to the mercenary. The man nodded back, looking relieved as he hurried away. 

The triarchy, he frowned as he hurried back to Luke’s office. If they’re after grandmother then it’s best we burn them… but the chains…

Clearly, those were for the Targaryens. The concerning fact was that if it involved the Targaryens, Lucerys would be on it immediately. Aenar would have to closely watch the movements of his underlings if the triarchy are targeting the house of the dragon again. Chains big enough to restrain dragons were concerning for him too. Naeryn wouldn’t want Gray Ghost anywhere near on the battlefield if that risk existed. Worst of all was Arrax, one of the few that keeps Lucerys sane. 

Aenar paused, steps away from Lukes office. His eyes travel to the window, staring at the sky and sighing at it. He imagines the wind in his face, the heat of the fire. He takes a deep breath, calming his beating heart as he tries to restrain his envy. Aenar had many things. He and his sister shared many things and somehow, Gray Ghost was one of the things they shared. But he knows that Gray Ghost is bonded to Ryn, not him.

Sometimes… sometimes Aenar wishes he had his own dragon. Maybe one day… he will.

“May the god bless me with a companion to bond with.”

“Ñuha jorrāelagon dārilaros,” Melisandre whispered as she took his face into his hands.

She, along with Jaeros, had returned as quickly as they could. She had almost forgotten her black veil when they sailed into Braavos and hurried into the building that was their base. It was hidden from the public view but big enough to house several of their employees. Unfortunately, that was a great difficulty until Lucerys had the good idea to make it seem like one building was multiple. To summarize, they were interconnected—whilst the outside seemed smaller, the inside was massive.

She found Lucerys in his private chambers. He was staring into a mirror, dazed and not himself. It was a sight she slowly got used to. As a supposed envoy of a god, she often sensed others. Deities attached to humans, although not so closely, had a presence that she could sense. With how Lucerys was losing focus as he looked at the mirror, whispering under his breath, she knew that the reflection he was talking to was not an actual reflection in his eyes. 

“Iksan zūgagon.” She heard him whisper to the mirror, “Kessa ao mīsagon nyke? balerion, please… gaomagon nyke ȳgha.” I am afraid. Will you protect me? Balerion, please… keep me safe. 

“I’m fine…” Lucerys whispered but he refused to look her in the eyes. Obviously, this troubled her as she gently moved his face to look at her. The prince keeps his head down and does not look at her red eyes.

“Jurnegon rȳ nyke,” Look at me— Melisandre pursed her lips, frustrated that he won’t look at her. Lucerys shakes his head, closing his eyes as he tries not to obey. But Melisandre had a way with words. “I said look at me, Ñuha dārilaros.” My prince.

“I…I can’t.” Lucerys kept his eyes closed.

“Please… sweet boy. Open your eyes, let me see what Balerion has done too.” Quietly, she begged him. For a moment, Lucerys continues to disobey and keep his eyes closed. But only moments later, he looks at her. The sight is breathtaking. She would not doubt that had anyone else seen it, they would think he is her son.

“Gevie mili,” Beautiful red , she whispers.

Once dark brown eyes have turned red. It was a beautiful shade that reflected blood that coursed through their veins. It was not fire, it was blood in his eyes and it crystallized into his irises. So beautiful that she was mesmerized.

This was not the mark of R'hllor, this was Balerion’s. The draconic hue of red in Lucerys’ eyes…

“Were you speaking to him again?” She whispered, glancing at the door. They’ve spent years hiding from the Targaryens, creating a guild for information, they knew that the walls had ears.

Lucerys nodded, “He mentioned Helaena… that some of the gods want my family to find me, while others are siding with him. I don’t know what to do… I’ve relied on him for so long, relying on the divine to hide from my fate… I should have known that it wasn’t that simple. Now gods are fighting because of my—”

“Hush now… I will protect you. If your family succeeds in taking you away, I will follow no matter what.” She vows, kissing his forehead. Her hands are gentle as she cups his cheeks. It feels like yesterday that they still had their baby fat, but now he looked older. The softness of his features became sharper, visibly of a Valyrians appearance. 

She closes her eyes and the blackness fades away. She sees a man, hair as dark as night and dark eyes with a red hue. She sees him caress a dragon so big that it surpasses Caraxes. She sees him laugh, turn to her with a smile comparable to the sun and he speaks. Silence greets her, regardless of how much his mouth moves. But for a moment, she hears one thing from the man…

“Meli!” 

And she realizes that the nickname her prince has bestowed upon her means red.

“Will you?” Lucerys asks, uncertainty cursing his tone and she frowns at his doubt. “Will you truly? Will you follow me if I am taken? Will you not abandon me?”

“Why do you think that?”

Lucerys smiles sadly, “You appeared before me by R’hllor’s will. You did not love in the beginning, you were merely following your god’s orders.”

“My dear… Lucerys… Lucerion…”

“If your god tells you to be rid of me… to leave me… would you?”

Melisandre is ashamed to admit that she falls silent. 

She watches as pain flashes through dragon-like red eyes and guilt creeps into her heart. A smile graces his lips and she does not understand that is possible. Melisandre thinks she has betrayed, somehow, regardless if it has never happened.

“I love you, Meli…” he whispers and she kisses his forehead again.

She replies immediately, “ vy jorrāelan tolī.”

She could answer him. Sincerity, honesty, there was no lie to her words. She loved this boy as if he came from her own womb. She has cared for him for the past three years and she is proud of it. When Lucerys had nightmares, it was her who hugged him in his bed, sung him lullabies until he fell asleep. When Lucerys got sick two years ago, vomiting and sobbing from the pain, it was Melisandre who nursed him back to health. When he struggled to manage his guild, it was Melisandre who helped him so he may finally sleep. She regrets nothing for her care and love for her little prince.

“The only thing that can separate you from me is death… he must take you in his arms before you are lost to me.” she tells him, gazing into eyes that reflected the color of her own. “Immortal I may be, but I will never forget you. If I continue to live on, the memory of you will be a diamond that outshines all my memories.”

And yet again there was no lie.

“My prince… my dearest, most loved prince…” she kisses away his tears, bringing him into her embrace and pursing her lips at his silent crying. “I am not loyal to any crown but yours.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, my prince.”

Melisandre prays to all the gods. R'hllor, the fourteen flames, even the old gods—she prays to them all. Let this child live, let him be happy , she closes his eyes once more and sees that smiling man. Let these visions be true and he lives a long life… I beg of you Balerion, do not take him too early… let him live… 

And she tries not to cry. She sees pain, suffering, and her visions blanks for a second. Another vision, another omen from her lord. She sees a man with straight silver hair, a single violet eye watching the flames as he holds a dagger as if it were the most precious thing in the world. She sees him take a deep breath, press the dagger into his arm and whisper a name as if it were a prayer. The man closes his only eye, tilting his head as his blood trickles down from his arm to the rug underneath him. Immediately does Melisandre fear for the future to come.

“Lucerys,” the man whispers and she holds on to her prince a little tighter.

“Lucerion,” she counters the prayer under the man's lips and kisses her prince's forehead for the third time. “Lucerion Blackfyre.”

And Melisandre continues to whisper that name, as if it would wash away the boy that drowned in a storm—while the man who killed him drowns in obsession and love for the innocent soul he killed.

Chapter Text

"We found something! We finally found something!"

Daemon is quick to snap his head towards Jace, who came bounding to them with a menacing grin on his face. He should have been concerned but that look was often associated with any discovery they made of Lucerys' state. If Jace looked as happy as he was then he truly did strike gold with this search that seemed to prove futile. The rogue prince smiled darkly, hurrying his son into the room that they had rented for themselves.

The conversation between Baela and Aegon cuts off as they turn towards Jace. They are immediately on their feet while Aemond goes rigid on his seat. All four were anticipating the news that Jace would give them. Finally! They finally found something to move on.

"Well? Hurry now!" 

Jace glared at Daemon, before recollecting himself and taking in a deep breath. "A man with dark hair accompanied by a pair of Valyrians was sighted here two weeks ago. There were reports of a dragon passing over during that time."

"So he came here… there's a chance he's returned to this place." Daemon murmured, looking out the window.

They had gone to Myr first as it was closer to Volantis. It seems like that decision proved fruitful with this new discovery. If a dragon—most likely Arrax—had come to Myr along with the sighting of three specific individuals, then there was a good chance that Lucerys would return here.

But Daemon was smarter than this. They had underestimated Lucerys once, they weren't about to do it again. There was the chance of Lucerys having his own network of information and if his suspicions were proven right, then it had been Lucerys who tipped them off about Otto and Vaemond's meeting. If that were the case then Lucerys could have potentially been spying on them after all these years — his reason for returning to Westeros was for the petition of heirship. Admittedly, he was impressed by the mere assumption of it.

“Chances that he is stationed here are not absolute. Do not assume that we must kick down every door in this city to find him.” He warned them, eyes narrowing at Aemond and Jace especially; those two were the most troublesome when it came to Lucerys. “From now on, we will treat Lucerys as a target during our search. That boy is more clever than we expected him to be. There is no telling what resources are at his grasp and how much power he’s accumulated in Essos. If we wish to bring him home, we cannot risk looking down on his skills. It's been three years, I doubt he's the same.”

The memory of Lucerys recent escape from them is fresh in their minds. Aemond immediately grabs for the dagger that was sheathed, almost constantly on his person since that day. Lucerys' precision with the blade was genuinely terrifying. He knew where to aim and it hit true. He could only imagine what would happen if Lucerys actually aimed for any of them rather than some rope to bring a banner down to distract them. Regardless, it was something that they could not easily forget now.

Lucerys had changed.

But the question was: Was it a good change or not? 

“The bigger mystery is the people with him. They were valyrian for sure.” Baela glanced towards Jace, “Considering that you got a good look at then. Silver-blonde hair, purple eyes… In addition, the two were able to mount Gray Ghost without the dragon tossing them off its back. No matter… Lucerys has allied himself with Valyrian descendants and helped them bond with a dragon. From what we know, only the one of those two is a dragonrider.”

“Indeed, do not forget about that fact. Lucerys has another dragon at his side and this one is one of the oldest dragons, a wild one too. Gray Ghost may be the meekest of the three wild dragons, but the reason why they're so dangerous is due to its stealth. Gray Ghost has devoured their prey by hiding and ambushing them, it can camouflage itself in fog and clouds… It can even ambush dragons within the sky. Be careful.” Daemon warned them. He was even more concerned by the fact that Gray Ghost and Arrax looked similar due to their coloring and form. 

The last time they had encountered Arrax, the dragon had already become bigger than Vermax. That had been two years ago— it meant that only a year had passed and Arrax had grown at a rapid rate. It was frightening really, how one of the youngest Dragons alive had become so big that they had surpassed a dragon two years older. It wasn't unheard of but… A year, only a year and Arrax got that big… Daemon could not believe it. 

They would need to investigate further with the people of Myr. He glanced over to Jacaerys, the one whom these people would trust more due to his appearance. The… blandness of his coloring compared to theirs would bring the walls of strangers down and make them converse to him as if he were some commoner. Although people slandered him for it, Jacaerys had proven to be more trustworthy in the eyes of the common folk due to his appearance. He looked human compared to them and that was what the people wanted. A man who looked human on the throne. 

“Jace—”

“I know…” Jace reluctantly. The young man still had trouble accepting the fact that the people had preferred him due to his looks. “I'll go befriend some stranger, someone loose-lip if you prefer.”

“Lovely! Now you two—” Daemon pointed to Aemond and Baela, “will be scouring the place for any trace of dear Luke. Aegon and I shall check on the dragons.”

“What? Why me?!”

“Do you wish to see Sunfyre or not?”

“I— okay.”

Daemon rolled his eyes. He only wanted to take Aegon with him to make sure Jace actually did his job. He did not wish to have his nephew and stepson distracting themselves during this investigation. He would gladly shove them into another room if he and the other two could fly away and abandon them to their debauchery.

“Hurry now… I do not wish for another year without our Luke.”

Said boy was currently staring at his own reflection.

The blackness of his eyes had been replaced by a deep crimson that matches the color of his mother's favorite dresses… well, not really. It was closer to Melisandre's red, but more like blood than fire. He snorted at the realization, running a hand over his eye. But he would be lying to himself if the first thing he thought of when he saw his reflection was Melisandre. That was a lie that would never leave his lips.

Looking down at his hands, he sighed in relief that his skin hadn't changed at all. He could vividly remember the first time his eyes turned red. It had been a year and a half after he left Westeros. He remembered how he was steadily working to create his guild, meeting people to negotiate for information or their services and one day someone had laid their hands on Naeryn and Melisandre in the most vile way possible. He remembers one of the men trying to kiss Naeryn and another man slipping their filthy hand under Melisandre's dress. He remembers his own body moving. He remembers how he had lost control and threw his knife at the men, one of the daggers had dug itself into an eye socket. 

He remembers stabbing his daggers into their eyes over and over again. He remembers digging his fingers into their socket and ripping their eyeballs out. He remembers how Aenar and Jaeros tried to calm him down, and tried to pull him away from the men. He remembers the way they had been so terrified of his actions that only Melisandre had been steady enough to mention the color of his eyes. Red . Crimson. Scarlet. Blood. 

He remembers laying awake, feeling an entity hover over him and whispering comforting words. Words he could barely understand as his lucidity faded away and he passed out from exhaustion. 

“What… now?”

Lucerys’ entire body goes rigid as he felt arms wrap around his waist but at the same time there was nothing. Something heavy leaned against him, breathing against his skin and holding him as if he were the most important treasure in existence. He gulps, tries to relax until he simply leans into the pressure that would look like air to others. He sighs softly, a murmur of annoyance and understanding under his breath.

“My Lucerys…” Balerion whispers into his ear.

A shiver goes up his spine as he takes in a deep breath then softly exhales. Balerion's arms were firm around him, holding him ever so gently and Lucerys glanced down at the black scales that ended up to his elbows. Silently, he runs a finger over the black scales and sighs in content. It felt odd.

The temperature kept switching from warm to cold. But then again, Balerion was one of the fourteen flames. He was going to be warm but at the same time, he was cold— Death was cold. Lucerys himself knew that.

He glances at the reflection and lets out a shaky breath when he saw the god. His hair was not long like last time. He had chopped it all off. Lucerys would be lying if he said that it didn't look good, but he did miss the longer locks of black hair. His hand slowly crept towards Balerion's head, digging his fingers into silky black and he lets out yet another sigh of content. It was so smooth, so silky, so perfect. He leans even further into Balerion and a small smile twitches on to his face.

He hears the god chuckle, a haunting kind of melody. Lucerys had always perceived Balerion as someone so beautifully haunting. So perfect, so ethereal, her he strikes fear by simply being in ones presence. Lucerys has already experienced death, has already been held by death for years before he was brought back to the land of the living. The haunting sensation of Balerion's presence had been something he grew accustomed to. He was used to this now, finding a sense of comfort from the cold and warmth. 

“Meleys is bothersome.” Balerion says simply, nuzzling his face into the crook of Lucerys' neck. His arms do not release the prince, who was far too relaxed in the arms of death.

“What has she done now? I don't suppose she has caused yet another person to fall in love had intends to make such a love story end in tragedy.” Lucerys hummed, wincing as Balerion's arms tightened around his waist. “Balerion?”

The god hums. He hears Balerion sigh, and then a soft groan.

“Something… similar.” Balerion whispers, “An obsessive kind of love upon a mortal… She is… fond of this boy. I do not like him. The mortal has fallen deep in love with another and I deem it dangerous. The love is a sham!” Lucerys flinches as Balerion growls, “It's dangerous and it could get the target of that love killed. I despise her for doing such a thing. Why must she meddle in the lives of others for her own entertainment?”

Lucerys did not understand why Balerion was so angry. He could understand that Meleys' actions were… cruel, but he did not know why Balerion was so angry for mortal love. It had always been sweet, peaceful, dangerous, and bloody. Whoever the object of such love was, Balerion was fond of them and despised the one Meleys liked. The question was, who was the mortal Balerion liked?

There was silence between them as Lucerys carefully removed Balerion's arms from him. The god pouted— goodness gracious, the god of death pouted and Lucerys had to restrain himself from giggling like a maiden. He sits on the bed, smiling at Balerion and opening his arms. Balerion hums softly, chuckling before he wraps his arms around Lucerys once more and falls to the bed. His back hit the soft blankets as the god peacefully lay on top of him, listening to his heartbeat.

Lucerys could not help himself. He carded his fingers through Balerion's hair, sighing in content at the wonderful sensation.

“Your family thinks I took you… Meleys seems to be adamant in her endeavor to paint me as the villain in Helaena's dreams.” Balerion murmured, their eyes meeting.

Red met red. 

But the thought was troubling. Lucerys hadn't been taken, he hadn't been kidnapped and sent to his death like Aerea. Now, this was done willingly. He despised the way that Balerion received hatred and so many inconveniences from his family and another god. Love— he started to hate Meleys for doing that to his savior.

“But you didn't.”

“They don't know that.”

Lucerys abruptly sat up and Balerion followed him almost instantly. There was anger blazing in the red irises that Balerion had gifted to the mortal prince.

“I chose to leave! Why must that goddess meddle? What have I ever done to her to cause me such trouble?! I do not wish for you to be hated and condemned by the Targaryens who practically worshiped a dragon named after you. You did not— You did not force me to leave…” his anger morphed into sorrow as pressed his hands against his face.

Balerion did not take me. I wanted to leave. I wanted to leave! Why?! Why, goddess Meleys, must you destroy the happiness that he has offered me? His thoughts were a mess as he tried to stop himself from crying.

“My dearest Lucerys…” Balerion whispered, pulling his hands away from his face. The god leans closer and closer until their breaths mingle with one another. “ Ñuha qēlos. Ñuha zaldrītsos. ”

My star. My little dragon.

Lucerys just… melted.

“I could never force you to do anything…” Balerion said and they were only inches apart.

Lucerys, on instinct, leaned forward and refused to look away. “And you needn't force me to follow what you say. Call for me and I shall come, just as you do for me.”

Balerion smiles softly. He traces his thumb from Lucerys' brow to his cheek, revelling at the ruby-like shine of his eyes. As if blood had seeped into crystal, shaped into pupils and placed upon the eyes of the drowned prince. They were beautiful and Balerion proudly claimed to be the one who placed those wonderful rubies in Lucerys' eyes.

“ Ñuha zaldrītsos .” Balerion whispers, then continues to say a word contradicting his claim. “ Yours.”

Lucerys was startled to hear that but softened as he cupped Balerion's face, “ Mine. ” he whispers back.

For a moment, nothing happens.

Then he feels cold lips against his eyes. Instantly his eyes close and wrap his arms around Balerion's neck, pulling him closer. The god kisses him with softness, not with desperation, not with greed. It was as if he was offering himself to Lucerys, all of him and Lucerys accepted what he was given.

His lips parted just for Lucerys and gladly he moved upon that action. The mortal prince pulls away for a single second, breathing in the air that they shared before pushing back for all of the touch he could have. Balerion pulls him closer, hands firmly placed on Lucerys hips and the two practically devour each other. 

It felt… wrong and right.

For Lucerys, this felt forbidden. He was a mortal kissing a god. It felt wrong to do so.

On the other hand, Balerion knew that this was right, perfect . He offered himself to this mortal and was accepted with gratitude and love that he wanted so dearly from the dark-haired prince. He breathes in the sight of his darling zaldrītsos calling him his . He belonged to Lucerys and he adores the prince when he says it. 

“ Ñuhon. ”

“Yours.”

“I envy you…”

Balerion's eyes snap towards the other deity in the room. Unseen by mortal eyes, but Balerion saw him clearly. White hair and gold eyes that belonged to their leader, their king if one must call him that. He grunted, refusing to get up from the bed and holding the sleeping prince tight.

The swollen lips of the prince and marks on his neck were clearly done by possessive desires. Balerion knew how to restrain himself for Lucerys but even he had some limits for his darling zaldrītsos.

“You covet him.” Arrax hums, smiling softly at the sleeping prince before turning towards Balerion with subtle envy. “Meleys have caused you both trouble.”

“Of course she has.” Balerion snarled, pulling Lucerys closer to him. He knew that Meleys must have seen the state of Lucerys; she must be outraged to see that Balerion had stake his claim on the prince. Well… Lucerys had staked his claim on Balerion, but it was the same. 

“I cannot… take sides, you know that.”

Balerion sighed. Of course he knew. Arrax was their leader, he could not take sides and had to balance them. He was the god of law and order, he had to make sure everything was in order. If he took Balerion's side then the scales of the fourteen flames would be tipped—inevitably it would affect the mortal world.

“I know…” he said, “I simply wish that you could do something about her… Lucerys does not deserve such trouble. He's suffered enough.”

Arrax grimaces, striding towards the bed and Balerion's instincts kick in. He growled at the god of law and order and raised a brow at the visible possessiveness. He rolled his eyes, snapping his fingers as Balerion was transported to the chair by the window. Balerion gaped at his audacity, shooting up to his seat and glaring at Arrax who replaced him. 

“Poor thing…” Arrax whispered.

“Do not pity him! He does not deserve to be looked down upon.” Balerion snapped almost immediately. 

Arrax hums softly, “Indeed.” he says and runs his fingers through dark locks, “Sweet boy he is… I am fairly surprised that you would proudly say such things. Offering yourself to a mortal… Vhagar would have never done such a thing with Aerea. It is… good to cherish him without allowing your greed to feed upon your desires.” he trails off for a moment, cupping Lucerys cheek and smiling. “Treasure him.”

“You needn't tell me that. Regardless of what you and the rest think, Lucerys is… is my treasure.” he whispers, “ Ñuha qēlos .”

Arrax stares at him and Balerion does not falter upon his words. He is proud of it, he regrets nothing as he walks to the other side of the bed and takes Lucerys from Arrax's arms.

“He named his dragon after me.”

“Oh for the sake of fate, I don't care!” Balerion snapped, scowling at the smug look on Arrax's face.

The two were about to argue but a knock interrupted their conversation. The door creaks open and a woman in red enters. Her eyes are wide as she stares at the two gods trying to get a hold of the sleeping prince. Shock evident on her face before she calms down and bows to the two deities. A small smile upon her face causes the two to glance at each other and to Lucerys.

“God of Law and Order, God of Death… It is… a surprise to see you in my prince's chambers.” Melisandre's smile is strained and troubled as she purses her lips soon after. The sight of Lucerys being cradled by the god of death, and the god of law and order caressing his cheek bothered her.

A god's favorite is perpetually in danger, she grimaces, and he is loved by two very dangerous gods. 

“R'hllor's priestess,” Balerion's eyes narrowed at her, “I do wonder why he decides to send you. Lucerys is not connected to him in any way.”

Melisandre sighs, “A child that has garnered the attention of the god of death and the king of the fourteen flames will be an object of interest to others. He is especially more intriguing to other deities if the fourteen flames were willing to bring him back in time.” she explained, “So I beg you… please… Please protect him.”

“You love him.”

“As if he came from my own womb.” she declares.

Balerion's eyes dig into her while Arrax is fairly intrigued. The god of law approves of the devotion that shone through fiery eyes of the priestess. He sees the way her hands clench, fingers digging into her skin as she watches them hold her prince— her son , if anyone were smart enough to realize how she saw the boy. 

“I would never… stop protecting him.” Balerion says, his tone soft and sincere. Understanding flashes between the two red-eyed individuals, nodding as they glanced back at their sleeping prince.

“Let us depart Balerion.” Arrax stands back up, before slowly leaning forward and placing a kiss on Lucerys' forehead. Balerion promptly growls at him, causing the other god to roll his eyes.

“You—” he cuts himself of shaking his head. Lucerys is back in his arms and the god of death softens immediately.

“Goodnight, ñuha zaldrītsos, ” he whispers, planting a soft kiss on the boy's lips and gently placing him back on the bed. He turns towards Melisandre, who was rather surprised at the obvious display of affection, “Make sure that one-eyed bastard does not do harm upon him. He has had enough of that little shit.”

Melisandre gulped, nodding in understanding. She didn't need to be told but she pitied the poor fool that thought it was a good idea to love and kill Lucerys. She was wary of him as well but the fact that the god of death clearly despised such a person was frightening. 

“Of course…”

She takes in a deep breath as the two gods vanish from the room. Her legs gave our and she fell to the floor, breathing heavily as sweat covered her skin. The presence of gods was more overwhelming than she thought but two of them? Death and Order were one of the most powerful. The fact that she could withstand it simply meant that they had weakened whatever pressure their presence provided due to Lucerys. Her red eyes go towards the sleeping prince, attempting to crawl towards him as she grabs hold of his hand and begins to pray. 

Her body was shaking, trying to calm herself. Gods… Three of them… she thinks with so much concern that tears were running down her face. Two love him and my Lord is intrigued by him… she takes in deep breaths, trying to steady her pounding heart. Please let him be safe. Please protect him. Please… Please… 

No amount of begging gave her an answer.

She gasps as her head aches. Visions plagued her as she crashed to the floor, tightly shutting her eyes as she writhed. Gasps and groans leave her lips as she tries to make sense of the flashing images that had attacked her mind. They were too fast to properly comprehend but she could see, hear, and feel certain things that were clearly emphasized.

Aenar and Naeryn were running, sword and crossbow at the ready as they shot at strange looking men that chased after them. She hears a dragon's roar and the siblings stop as green-scaled draconis lands. It's rider, a dark haired boy who glares viciously at them.

Lucerys, Aenar, and Naeryn are locked in separate rooms, unconscious as a boat sails away from Essos.

“Mother— I was not—” Lucerys was screaming at someone. Her silver hair and tear stained face shown as the very woman who birthed her dear prince.

“You were taken from us!” screamed a girl with silver hair and dreamy eyes. Lucerys glares at her, not hesitating to grab her by the shoulders and forcing her to look at crimson eyes that caused her fear.

“Your righteous Meleys is a liar.”

“Lucerys…” the one-eyed prince reaches for her precious prince, cups his face and smiles. It's venomous, it's cruel, it's dark. “I finally have what is mine.”

Lucerys is petrified.

Melisandre gasps as the last image haunts her. The sweat and tears were mixed on her face, her expression contorting into fear and dread. Weakly she gets back on her feet and trudges towards the bed. She sobs quietly, pressing her red lips against Lucerys' forehead and praying that he stays safe. The gods were cruel. 

Meleyes was cruel.

Those who sided with Meleys were cruel.

Why must they bother her precious prince? Why must they hurt him so? Why must they drag him back to the misfortune they made him go through in his last life.

“ Ñuha dārilaros. ” she whispers and holds him tight. “I will protect you. I promise.”

“You look awful… I mean— sorry.” Naeryn apologizes, frowning at Melisandre's appearance. She looked disheveled and exhausted, not a common sight. Naeryn takes out a handkerchief and hands it to the red priestess. 

“Don’t mind my appearance. Is there anything we should be concerned about at the moment?”

Aenar immediately answers, “The triarchy have been conspiring with Otto, nothing different if not for the most recent letter that was delivered.” he grimaces, snarling as he takes out the most recent report regarding the letter. “They intend to go after driftmark.”

“Driftmark?” Melisandre blinked in surprise, “The triarchy intend to go after the biggest navy in Westeros? Not only that, Princess Rhaenys and her dragon will burn them all if she ever heard about this.” she avoids saying the name of the goddess of love, it still frustrated by her. 

Aenar sighs, clearly frustrated as well, but for different reasons. He rubs the side of his head, scowling as he turns towards Naeryn who looks equally troubled. The room was completely locked away from the rest of the guild, Jaeros being absent due to some rowdy newcomers. So it was just the three of them now. The atmosphere was not welcoming, not one bit. 

“Driftmark isn't their actual target.”

“Then what is?!” Melisandre snapped, surprising the siblings.

Aenar and Naeryn's wide eyes glanced at one another, concerned for their priestess.

"Er… Due to Vaemond having been imprisoned and will go through trial in two nights, it seems that Otto Hightower has decided to… fix their mistake in the most violent way possible that is…” Naeryn trails of, grimacing. 

“Spit it out.”

“They plan to go after Rhaena Targaryen.”

Melisandre stills, eyes wide as she stares at Naeryn.

The poor girl was extremely uncomfortable with the scarlet stare. It was unnerving in a way that felt like Melisandre was staring into her soul and assessing her good deeds and sins. She gulps, turning to her brother for help. Aenar frowns, but nods and continues her explanation.

“Rhaena Targaryen departed from King's Landing to Driftmark, accompanied by her grandsire and grandmother. The security is mildly lax due to the regent princess sending out a ship or two to Essos to look for…” Aenar trails of, before clearing his throat and continuing. “We suspect that they will either assassinate Rhaena or kidnap her. Regardless, if either is done then the foundation of Driftmark will crumble. The next heir after Rhaena would be her older twin sister or Joffrey Velaryon. Both have not been trained to become the next lord or lady of the tides.”

Melisandre pursed her lips. 

One problem from another. The first hasn't even been resolved. 

“... Send a spy to Driftmark. Someone that can regularly report to us without any issues. It cannot be the personal knight of Rhaena nor her maid. That is too close and it will be messy. A regular servant that consistently tends to Rhaena would be better.” She instructed, looking at this situation from multiple points of view. If Rhaena were kidnapped then the need for Lucerys wouldn't just be familial, it would be for duty. 

She could not let him be captured. 

“That's all?” Aenar raised a brow at her.

“For now.” she replies, sighing as she looks out the window. “Explain this to Lucerion when he wakes. Our guildmaster is exhausted.”

“Understood. But… what about the issue of those currently in Essos?” Naeryn grimaces.

Melisandre grits her teeth, “Yes… them… I nearly forgot. Find out where they are at the moment and let us pray that Helaena Targaryen does not join them. If she does…”

“Okay… I'll have someone report to us about the four. I suspect their somewhere in Myr or Qohor.” Aenar hums, nodding as he exits the room.

Naeryn is left to watch Melisandre slump in her chair, running a hand through her crimson hair and sighing tiredly. The poor girl frowns, slowly approaching the priestess and kneeling beside her. She takes her hand and massages it, earning a heartfelt smile from the priestess.

“What’s wrong with Lucerion?”

Melisandre lets out a dry laugh, “Nothing escapes you, huh?”

“Aenae also noticed. He left for us to talk.”

“How kind.” she drawls, but genuinely appreciates Aenar's consideration.

“He can't go back.”

“Why? Rion never told us why he left in the first place… were the Targaryens…”

“No… not to Lucerys. Well… not Rhaenyra and her family, but the Hightowers were rather cruel to him since his birth. But no. He did not leave do to the controversies with his birth nor was there any kind of abuse from his mother and stepfather… he had to leave.”

“Did the gods talk to him?”

Melisandre blinked, surprised that Naeryn had been able to figure out… part of the story.

“We may be bastards to the eyes of Westeros but she taught us well. I know about Daenys the dreamer… Helaena is one, what are the chances that Lucerys had received a vision and ran away due to it?” Naeryn whispered and rested her head on Melisandre's lap. The priestess carded her fingers through her hair, the silkiness of the Valyrian genes were amazing. 

“You could say that… He's protected by a god and now… the fourteen flames have fought. One half wishes to keep Lucerys away from his family and the fate he will suffer, while the other thinks that he must be returned for the Targaryens to be complete and happy…” Melisandre laughs darkly, “I despise that they require one bastard and leave the rest to rot.”

“Melisandre!” Naeryn gasped. She did not expect for Melisandre to casually call Lucerys a bastard of all things. 

But Melisandre only sighed, she cupped Naeryn's cheek and smiled softly at her. “Do you know what the name Blackfyre is supposed to represent?”

Naeryn shakes her head.

“I chose that name for him because it is the name that a bastard of house Targaryen chose. Lucerys knew this. He knows he's a bastard and he's proud of it. He's proud of the fact the he is Harwin Strong's son and he does not care for being a bastard. His brothers worry for their legitimacy due to their mothers status, Lucerys is far away from that environment,” she tells her, insisting that she spoke the truth. It was the truth. Lucerys accepted the fact that he was a bastard and practically told the world to fuck of by throwing away the identity of a false Laenor Velaryon's blood son.

“Lucerys Velaryon… is the child that drowned from the destruction of his own family. Lucerys Velaryon is dead.” she knows that Naeryn will interpret this in a metaphoric sense, not literal. She would think that Lucerys had been pressured by the entirety of Westeros from being a son of house Targaryen with dark hair and the same boy who had taken Aemond's eyes. She would not know that he was a prince who drowned after his dragon had been bitten by the supposed dragon queen Vhagar.

“The one before is Lucerion Blackfyre. The guildmaster and founder of the equinox guild that has thrived within two and a half years of existence. Lucerion Blackfyre is the rider of Arrax, the Ash Shadow, one of the fastest and most lethal dragons alive.”

She remembers the day Lucerys deemed himself dead. She remembers how he accepted that he had died and he was dead. She remembers the day she accepted the name Lucerion Blackfyre completely and assured himself of who he was.

“Lucerion Blackfyre is the boy who escape the house of the dragon and it's demise.”

Chapter Text

He remembers cold lips pressing against his neck, leaving marks as they moved. He remembers sharp teeth sinking into his neck, drawing a bit of blood and a tongue that seemed to heal the wound. He remembers cold hands around his waist, tight yet gentle as they held him close. He remembers crimson eyes that he had fallen for long ago, the same eyes he had been bestowed with. He remembers losing something pure for a love that was uncertain yet so desires that he couldn't help himself. He remembers being loved unconditionally without any consequences.

Then he woke up.

Balerion had long since departed from the night. The sun had risen and Lucerys found himself staring at the ceiling, his body aching as if he'd sparred with Aenar for hours on end. But the kind of sparring and individual in question was… questionable. Regardless, it had been pain and pleasure for him as he assessed the supposed damage upon his body. First of all, his bum hurt. Second of all, he knew there were marks all around his neck that he'd have to hide, lest Aenar and Naeryn interrogate him on who had given him such marks. Third of all… he thinks he can't walk.

Sunlight slipped into his chambers as he supported himself with his elbows. The pain upon his body was indescribable as he remembered why he was in pain. At the very least, Balerion could have ensured he wouldn't be discomforted. He had never done such an act before, even in his past life he somehow kept his chastity after his mother had coddled him from Daemon's attempts at whisking him along to a brothel or from Jace's attempts at explaining to him what sex was like. Regardless, Lucerys had been a virgin up until Balerion.

He worried for Melisandre's lecturing on losing his chastity to a god of all people. 

“Thankfully, you seem to be in better shape than I expected.”

He fell off the bed when he heard the voice. He hadn't even heard his door open yet here she was! Melisandre scrutinized him with her fiery gaze, slightly disappointed in him but also concerned. His face was a flaming red, tangled in his sheets and unable to get up from the floor with how his legs felt far too numb. 

“I—”

“I will not judge you for bedding a god of death,” Lucerys groaned, “But understand that I worry for your health. He is a god and you've lost your purity to him! I have never heard of anyone losing their virginity to deity without it being an offering. Really now… you are truly… one of a kind, my darling dārilaros .” Melisandre sighed, shaking her head as she assisted him back on the bed. She did her best to not mind the marks on his neck—was that a bite mark?!

“I… let us not speak of this to Aenar and Naeryn…” Lucerys murmured, wincing as he tried to stretch his limbs. “Damned god…”

“Oh may R’hllor have mercy,” Melisandre clicked her tongue as she lifted Lucerys shirt. His skin was littered in black and blue marks, she scowled ever so much when she saw bite marks. Her child may not be as fragile as he was once before, but even then… a silent sense of resentment sticks to her bones as she attempts to heal him with her magic. “Ban him from touching you.”

“What?”

“Ban him… from laying a finger on you.” Melisandre insisted as she held his shoulders, “Luce, have you seen your body?! Goodness, I bloody well think that Balerion may have been too rough with a virgin such as yourself. You poor thing…”

“Meli! Stop mentioning my chastity!” Lucerys yelled, his face turning even more red.

Melisandre clicked her tongue, ghosting her hand over the bruises and slowly watching them mend themselves. Lucerys continued to try and find comfort within his sheets, sighing as he sheepishly removed his shirt. Once again, Melisandre committed blasphemy by loudly cursing at a god. There were red lines on Lucerys' hips, no doubt from Balerion's nails. To see his flesh so marred by an act she's done before… Perhaps she will swear a vow of celibacy just for his sake.

“My child…” she whispers and kisses his forehead.

It was easy for them to melt into each other. Mother and son . It was… unorthodox if one were to look at it in a certain direction. Melisandre was a red priestess who had never birthed a child and Lucerys was a boy who adored his mother yet fled as fast as he could. Seeing the two treat each other as such was touching in a way. 

“Let's stop talking about that…” Lucerys grumbled, slipping his shirt back on once Melisandre was finished with her healing. Even so, his body still ached and he attempted to stand up straight. Ultimately, he failed and almost stumbled. “What are the latest issues? Has anything been reported?”

Melisandre paused, hesitating for a moment as she sighed and stood up. Her black and red dress cascaded down to the floor, chiffon fabric hanging of her. The black turned by the ends, an ethereal look that perfected. She stared intently at Lucerys, clasping her hands in front of her and she sucked in a deep breath.

“Otto Hightower has once again conspired with the triarchy… this time… they intend to go after the driftwood throne…” her voice was a mere whisper as she spoke, watching Lucerys' expression carefully. His calm shifted to distress, then to—

“They're going after Rhaena Targaryen.”

—and the anger returned, his black eyes turning redder than her own.

“What?” 

A coldness entered the room as Lucerys stared at her. 

If there was one person amongst his siblings that Lucerys particularly favored, it was Rhaena. He trusted her more than he trusted Jace and the mere fact that she, the one chosen to become lady of the tides, was targeted just because she is a woman angered her. He did not entrust her with the role of heir to Driftmark for mere fools to decide that she was unworthy. He clenched his fists, gritting his teeth and silently demanding Melisandre for more.

Dutifully, Melisandre answered him. “One of the swellswords have reported that the triarchy have crafted themselves chains, chains big enough to tie down a dragon. The assassination faction has also come forth with information. Rhaena will be kidnapped first and…  we are unsure of whether she will be used as ransom or if she will be eliminated by the triarchy.”

“Send an assassin to guard her, and a swellswords to go undercover.” Lucerys slammed his closet doors open and searched for a suitable coat and his mask. “Gather more information on the triarchy. I don't want any of them going anywhere near Rhaena. Send someone to oldtown too. Perhaps Otto Hightower has someone there.”

Melisandre nodded in understanding.

“Understood. What shall you be doing?” Melisandre followed him out the room. She stared at him for a moment, pulling him back. His appearance may have looked near but Melisandre had taken notice of little imperfections that may become a disadvantage to him. “Take care of your daggers…”

Lucerys stiffened as she adjusted the dagger that was hidden in his sleeve. He could feel an absence. It hadn't been too long since he lost one of his daggers but even so… For four years, he had always been accompanied by all four no matter where he went. He even slept with at least one of the daggers resting under his pillow.

He shouldn't be attached to blades but those daggers were one of the first few gifts he received from Melisandre. They indicated the beginning of his new life, the end of the drowned prince and the birth of Lucerion Blackfyre. He was attached to those daggers.

“I lost Midnight…”

“I know… it's fine… so long as you are safe, I will have Nilora provide an endless amount of Valyrian steel daggers for you.” Her hands gently held his face, and Lucerys frowned. She saw this and kissed his cheek.

“ Bantāzma was my favorite.” Lucerys murmured, placing his hand over Melisandre's. “I'll get it back eventually. Mind you, I do not intend for anyone to keep hold of my dagger.”

Melisandre smiled bitterly, “I am sure that we can abandon it.” She knew who had Midnight and she didn't trust him at all. “Besides, you have Reaper's Ruin .” she hummed, carefully placing his mask over his face and locking their arms together.

“What is the agenda for today?”

“I only intend to review the latest information from pentos. And… perhaps I shall check up on my father.” He said bitterly. The subject of Laenor—who was very much alive—was still a tense thing to discuss. He had been confused as to why his father had faked his death, then came to remember that his mother and Daemon had married soon after the supposed death. Whether it was his mother, Daemon, or Laenor's plans, all three of them had caused him some sort of trauma that had him fear the flames for a time.

A family of fire and blood. A mother who basked in flames. Dragons that spewed fire from their throats. Two fathers taken by the flames. 

Lucerys had feared fire for a time and it was all his parents' fault. As a child, one of the things their family prided in so much was one of his biggest fears. The Lucerys from the previous timeline had nightmares of fire taking him whole. He had nightmares of Aemond coming to Dragonstone and ordered Vhagar to burn him alive… well… those nightmares we're not far off.

Aemond Targaryen still killed Lucerys Velaryon. 

“His whereabouts?”

“Last I heard, Laenor was sighted with his lover in a tavern.”

Lucerys clicked his tongue. He nodded in understanding, but that did not change that he was angry. Perhaps he was a hypocrite. He had left and caused his family to worry, but at the very least, he did so to survive. What was Laenor's reason for running away? Worse, what was so bad that he needed to fake his death and force his family to mourn him?

Lucerys spent years mourning his father, his own fate of becoming lord of the tides.

“Nevermind… I fear that I will show myself if I face him now…” Lucerys murmured, entering his office and pausing at the stack of paper on his desk. He sighed, shaking his head as he carefully checked on them, taking a seat on his usual spot. Melisandre merely lounged on a chair, her gaze directed to the wine bottle.

“Do not worry, my child.” she whispered, taking the glass and pouring the wine. Her eyes reflected the redness of the wine, and she ripped the glass to her lips. Ruby eyes gazed at Lucerys, who watched her carefully. Red-stained lips turned into a smile.

“I do not doubt that you shall prevail in the challenges the gods will have you face.”

Rhaena fidgeted as she stared out to sea. They had returned from King's Landing just a day ago, and even then, she had pleaded with her grandmother to let her stay in the redkeep. Rhaenyra was with child and her father, siblings, and uncles, were out on a mission to Essos. She supposed that Lucerys needed to be found as fast as possible but… 

She can't help but think that Lucerys needed to leave. After the departure of her darling brother, their family was suddenly pulled together in search for him. The divide was no more and the house of the dragon was united once more… Perhaps the gods intended for it to happen but the price was Lucerys. But… had Lucerys been taken… or was he freed from a disastrous fate caused by their family? She doesn't know, and was uncertain of whether she wants to know or not.

She purses her lips, listening to the clack of her shoes upon the stone floors. 

“Princess…” Rhaena turns towards her guard, staring at him before she shook her head.

“Leave me, ser Edwin.” it was not a request, it was an order. She abandoned her guarding knight as she wandered the halls and found herself in front of a familiar pair of doors.

Her room. Laena's room. Her mother's room.

Her grandmother had gifted this to her when she became heir. Yes, she had felt guilty when Baela did not receive it but her twin had insisted that she accepted the gift. So Rhaena resides within her mother's former room. She had found her mother's dresses from her youth, accessories such as necklaces, earrings, pearls, and so much more that her mother received. She shared these gifts with Baela and the two of them cherished every single one.

But there was one gift that Rhaena received that she never shared with her sister. She carefully steps towards her closet, rummaging through it as she sees a small blue box. Carefully, she picks it up and sits before her vanity, smiling softly at the box.

Within it was a necklace made of dragonglass. The glass has been embedded with crystals, shaped into a teardrop.

She remembers the time she received it.

It was four years ago. She was ten and four back then, still playing the role of potential fiance to her brother. Lucerys had looked at her like she was his best friend and sister, never as she seemed him to look at her the way her father did to Rhaenyra. Or the way her grandsire did with their grandmother. 

But Lucerys was kind and gentle. One day… she had never stopped thinking of this day… Lucerys had come to her with a gift.

“You're going to rule driftmark. This is my gift to you!” he had said and gifted her this necklace. A teardrop. A simple gift if one were to compare it to the numerous accessories Daemon gave Rhaenyra. But that was what made it special.

Lucerys had nitpicked colors of the gems, carefully picked out the design that made the teardrop more intricate. Her name was etched into the dragonglass and she wondered who he had commissioned to make this.

“It's not that special, but I hope you like it! It's for you, and only for you.” he grinned. “You're going to sit on the driftwood throne on the future…  so I want you to own something sentimental from me before that happens.”

She thought it was a courting gift. Or perhaps just a gift that showed that they would be equals.

It was a farewell gift. 

Days later after Lucerys had given this to her, he had disappeared. And soon after that, Rhaena was made heir to Driftmark. 

Lucerys was right… she would sit on the driftwood throne and because lady of the tides… she just thought that he would be by her side when that happened. Never did she expect that Lucerys would silently convey his trust to her, his faith in her with a simple necklace with her name on it. Rhaena would become lady of the tides, and she would make Lucerys proud.

She caresses the necklace with her thumb, sighting softly as she places a kiss on the gem.

“Wherever you are…  please be safe, Luke.” she whispered into the gem, as if he could hear her. She hoped he did. Lucerys may never return to them, but she prayed to all those willing to listen that he was safe and sound, that he was happy with his new life.

A knock echoed through the room and Rhaena hastily hid the necklace. If Rhaenys found it, perhaps she would wish for Rhaena to hand it over to her stepmother. They all had scoured dragonstone for any of Lucerys' belongings and gave it to Rhaenyra. At the very least… this one gift would not be taken from her. 

“Yes?”

“Princess, your grandmother wishes to speak with you.” a feminine voice spoke and Rhaena hid the necklace back into her closet. She straightened her back and fixed her hair before she opened her door. A servant girl bowed before her and she simply nodded, striding towards her grandmother's chambers.

The relationship between Rhaenys and Rhaena was fairly good. Both twins were close to their grandmother and grandsire. But Rhaena was closer to their grandsire. She blames the fact that she and Luke had spent so much time with him as children that she couldn't help but cling to those memories with Corlys. Their grandsire was an amazing man and husband. A bit greedy, yes, but then again, they were human. They were greedy no matter what anyone says. 

Rhaena curtsied low enough to satisfy any etiquette teacher she was given. A smile on her face as she gazed at her grandmother, silver hair tied into a loose braid. Rhaenys turned away from her balcony to face her granddaughter, a pleasant smile on her face as she opened her arms and waited for Rhaena to react.

“My child,” she said, taking Rhaena in her arms and kissing her forehead.

“A raven arrived from your sister. They've found a lead on Lucerys.”

Rhaena's eyes widened.

Over the years, Rhaenys' bitterness towards the Velaryon Boys had changed, and she had grown to love them dearly. Lucerys especially with his resemblance to Aemma and Daella. Many know that Rhaenys was fond of the late queen Aemma, and that was a great factor in her favor for Lucerys.

But… 

“They have? Where?”

Rhaena was not one to hope without reason. Lucerys was a tricky individual. She knew him in a way nobody else did.

As children, Lucerys displayed his mischief and trickery to her, a side of him that he trusted with barely anyone. She remembers how he once tricked guards into chasing after someone he thought was suspicious, but in reality, Lucerys just really hated the servant boy that kept serving him tea without honey. Of course, Rhaenyra never faulted him for it, having thought that her son simply misunderstood the servant boy's actions. No one knew the truth but Rhaena, who he confided in for his deep dislike for the servant boy.

“There were sightings of him and his companions in Myr. Apparently, he often frequents there. Why? I do not know but I pray to the fourteen flames that he is safe.” Rhaenys sighed in relief, caressing her cheek.

Rhaena kept the smile on her face, masking her concern as she tries not to show it. What will happen if Lucerys is caught?

She knew Aemond’s unhealthy obsession over her brother. She’s seen the way he would stare at that dagger so lovingly, it was concerning. Then there was Jace, who looked quite prepared to put their brother in chains to make sure he never leaves again. Rhaenyra and Daemon were also big concerns of hers. She did not doubt that her parents will do something drastic in order to assure that Lucerys will never leave again.

“Shall prepare a room for him?” She says, trying not to look too concerned.

“Rhaenyra and Alicent have insisted that he stay in the redkeep once he returns.” Rhaenys explained, but her eyes narrowed. Of course… her grandmother was still as observant. “What troubles you, granddaughter?”

Rhaena pursued her. There was no point in hiding it but…

“Will you have Arrax caged so he cannot escape?”

Rhaenys looked… appalled, horrified, disgusted. There was no right word for her expression but those three came close.

“How could you think such a thing! We will not cage Lucerys—”

“Our family has searched for him for years! Everyday, we steadily go down the path of madness looking for him. Grandmother…” She sighs, frowning at Rhaenys. “You know our family better than I do… you know that they will make sure that something we treasure shall never be taken again… We are dragons . We covet those that we find precious…”

Rhaena’s smile was bitter and sorrowful.

“Our family will never let Lucerys be free if he were to be captured.”

“Rhaena… do you think so lowly of us.”

“On the contrary grandmother, I acknowledge the mere fact that we are dangerous .” Rhaena raised her chin, her confidence slowly rising. She stared right into Rhaenys’ lilac eyes and narrowed her own.

“Years ago you called bastards and yet you yearn for his return.” Rhaenys flinched slightly at her granddaughter’s cold words.

“Look me in the eye grandmother, and swear to me that Lucerys will keep his freedom.” 

And as expected, Rhaenys stays silent. There is guilt, anger, regret within her eyes and Rhaena cares none of it.

If her brother were to be kept in a gilded cage then she would pray that he never be caught. If she must pray to the old gods of the Andals, the god of light, any who was willing to listen, then she would clasp her hands and speak the holiest of words so that her brother may never be brought back to this wretched place. 

Rhaena raises her head, grimacing at Rhaenys before her expression turns blank. She curtsied to her grandmother, bidding her farewell and exiting the room in haste. Her brother was in grave danger from their entire family.

She clutched her velvet dress tightly, closing her eyes for a moment.

Had she bonded with a dragon, she would have mounted her companion and searched for Luke to warn him. Her brother was chosen by the gods and something about Helaena’s dreams of a veiled woman was suspicious.

Balerion has taken your prince . The woman had apparently said to Helaena. 

Rhaena knew the gods were real but that did not mean she trusted them. It didn’t feel like the full story… If Luke had truly been taken by Balerion by force, why was he roaming Esso? Rhaena liked to think that she was the only one sane enough to accept that gods could be wrong. Perhaps it was because she knew Luke. Not Prince Lucerys Velaryon but Luke . The mischievous child who liked to sneak out to play with his dragon.

Rhaena knows her family well enough… she takes in a deep breath and sighs. She enters her room, locking her doors and taking out the necklace once again. She sits on her bed, staring at the necklace as it dangled from her fingers. She purses her lips, placing it around her neck and staring at her ceiling.

She closes her eyes…

“For those who are willing to listen… keep my brother safe.” She whispers, kissing the blue teardrop gem and praying that her wishes are heard. She drifts to sleep and she sincerely hopes that Lucerys is safe.

Then she feels as though she cannot wake .

The Equinox headquarters was ready to go up in flames.

“Be quick! The guildmaster just threw someone out a window!” Someone from the information faction yelled to an assassin. “Hurry!”

“I’m going as fast as I can—”

“What the hell is taking so long?!” Aenar yells, looking agitated and somewhat scared. “Where the hell is Brachos?! The guildmaster is pissed!”

“Sir! Wenona has reported that Brachos was knocked out during the kidnapping.”

“I sent him there because he was the best at guarding and you’re telling me that he was knocked out!?” Aenar seethed, almost ripping his hair out. “He’s gonna kill us…”

“What about Wenona? Has Rynvel been informed of anything about the assassin?”

“No sir… Wenona is still active. She slipped into the ship when the lady was taken and at the moment, her status is unknown.”

Aenar pursed his lips, shaking his head as he hurriedly left the informant and assassin that worked for their guild and hurried off to find his sister. They had gotten themselves grace news and Melisandre was currently their last line of their defense after reasoning became pointless. He hurried into the office, grimacing at the sight of five assassins hurriedly reporting to her their progress. 

“Brachos is useless but there is still hope for Wenona.” He tells her, not caring for the others in the room. “If she succeeds in completing her mission then we might be spared.”

“How bad has it become?” Naeryn asks, resting a dagger on the table as she dismissed her assassins from her office. Lilac eyes stared into a similar pair as brother and sister try to communicate without speaking. Aenar, to their misfortune, shakes his head.

“As you may have heard… someone’s been thrown out the window and Jaeros has mobilized three healers to tend to the poor sod. We need an update as soon as possible.” He sighs, shaking his head as he paced across the room.

“You said Brachos was the best to be her bodyguard!” Naeryn slammed her hand on the table.

“And he was! The idiot was knocked out! Damnit! Had I known that he's been slacking then I would have entrusted another assassin for that duty.” Aenar snapped, tugging at his hair as he narrowed his eyes and thought long and hard.

“At the very least Wenona is still useful. She left a good overview of the events…” Naeryn murmured, taking the report and scanning it thoroughly.

“It was a maid… the triarchy were desperate enough to hire a westerosi woman to drug the princess and allow those bastards into her chambers… tsk. Of course their security is so lax, no wonder why Luke left.” she clicked her tongue, tossing the file back on her table and slumping behind the desk. 

"We need to find her soon… or else he'll mount Arrax and tear down every single triarchy base to exist." Naeryn grits her teeth, "It's been three days… His patience is thinning… fast ." 

Aenar nodded in understanding, running a hand through his hair. This was the worst the equinox has gone. Their leader had almost gone feral when they heard the knees from Westeros. Brachos was supposed to protect the princess yet they received news that the man had failed to protect the princess in question. Said princess being their guildmaster's favorite. 

The moment it was reported that the princess was taken, Lucerys had thrown one of daggers at the messenger. The poor thing was left traumatized by the blazing red that shone through their guildmaster's eyes. This situation was getting more and more dire and it wasn't the triarchy that made them scared… it was who the triarchy angered.

"How's…"

"Melisandre has him cooped up in his room…" Aenar whispered, cautious as he glanced around the room. The one thing equinox knew was that the walls had ears. Especially in their headquarters.

There was a knock and the siblings were quick to place their masks on their faces and straighten their backs. Naeryn allowed for the stranger to enter and noticed it was one of the informants. The poor thing looked ready to faint, a pale complexion on the girls face.

"Lord Aeric, Lady Rynvel… the guildmaster has ordered for the heads of the factions to gather."

Order . It was a key word. Usually the word request was used but this time… Lucerys' patience has finally run out.

Aeric gulps, nodding as he hurries on our of the office, Naeryn following him silently. Her footsteps were light as a feather as they quickly moved towards Lucerys' office. They met Jaeros along the way, who was accompanied by Serylea Osterah. The captain of the cuervos looked rather nervous to have been summoned as well, while Jaeros seemed to be bracing himself for the inevitable. 

The siblings glanced at each other, and Aenar sighed as he prepared himself to knock. To his surprise, the door opened without prompt, and they watched as Melisandee greeted them. A black veil over her face, considering the fact that she was well aware of Serylea's presence. She observed them carefully, nodding as she opened the door wider.

"This is a situation of utmost secrecy. No one must know…so keep your mouths shut once you exit this room." Melisandre warned and hurried back to their guild master's side.

"The red lady—" 

"Hush Serylea." Jaeros shushed her.

Aenar simply hummed, staring at Lucerys…or Lucerion who wore his mask and was sitting behind his desk. 

"In the shadows we remain silent and deadly." Naeryn spoke as she bowed towards Lucerys.

"Guild master… you have summoned us…" Jaeros spoke cautiously.

Lucerys remained silent, his posture relaxing for a bit as he leant against his chair and stared at him. Even though his eyes were covered, Aenar suspected that they have turned red again. He gulped, keeping his hands behind his back no matter how sweaty they were.

Fear was an emotion frequently felt when the guild master ordered you into his office. A masked face, and yet you could still feel his gaze stab through you. The guild master always sat rigidly when speaking to a subordinate, but the moment he relaxed…well… that's far more terrifying than when he was scarily on guard. His posture was a manipulation tactic. The relaxed form caused you to perceive him as calm, perhaps having lowered his guard… and one wrong word was enough for him to snap.

"The princess has been taken." His fingers drummed on the black wooden desk. Lucerys tilts his head in a way that made him look…naive… how pitiful it was for Serylea to have fallen for this.

The captain of the cuervos moved to speak, but Jaeros grabbed her hand and held her back. She turned towards him, questioning, but froze as she saw the way Jaeros paled and sweat. She shut her mouth, lowering her head and avoiding a gaze she could not see but feel.

Lucerys continued to drum his fingers in an eerie rhythm. Naeryn and Aenar winced once he stopped, glancing towards Melisandre who looked just as grim as them. If Lucerys had already sent a man into the arms of healers with broken bones, then they feared for their lives.

Lucerys stood up, and the siblings instinctively took a step back. Melisandre went rigid, and Jaeros pulled Serylea behind him. But Lucerys doesn't do anything violent or reckless…and that it had Aenar taking another step back, and Naeryn flinching at his silence. The younger of the siblings sucked in a deep breath, fearing for the safety of her subordinates. They were supposed to protect the princes and yet…

"Find the princes…she must be returned to Westeros…safe, in one piece." 

Lucerys clenched his fists and they could feel endless pressure crushing them.

"Find Rhaena Targaryen."

Miles away, a princess is trapped in a dungeon.

Chapter Text

Westeros falls into panic when their future lady of the tides was announced missing and kidnapped by unknown captors. The search for Lucerys was postponed, and Daemon was quick to return to search for his daughter. Baela was worse when she had apparently slapped Aemond—who had tried to stay behind to continue searching for Lucerys. From what rumors say, Jacaerys had to restrain Baela before she tried to impale Aemond with her sword. Although that was futile attempt when Jacaerys received a small cut to his arm after his sister thrashed and raged in his arms.

“Where is she?!” Daemon marched into the throne room, dark sister gripped tightly as he looked around for anyone who could answer him. Many avoided his eyes and only Rhaenys met them, fury and anguish as she stood before the throne. Rhaenyra sat on the iron throne, rubbing her pregnant belly as she took in deep breaths, Alicent beside her as the Hightower lady comforted her friend as much as she could. 

“My daughter, cousin… Where. Is. My. Daughter?!” Daemon snapped.

“I do not know! I do not know, Daemon!” Rhaenys argued back, looking as if she’s aged numerous years. Bags under her eyes and even more wrinkles on her face — she looks as if she’s lost more of her life than ever. 

Rhaenys paced, unable to think properly. She had been the one with Rhaena before she was taken. It had been her who argued with her granddaughter, she couldn’t think straight. What if her last meeting with her beloved grandchild was that argument? What if the last interaction she had with Rhaena was that argument? What if the last feeling Rhaena had of her was resentment? The guilt ate at her and the spirit of Laena seemed to haunt her, whispering of how she has failed. It shook her soul.

“How do you not know? You were the last one with her!” Daemon marched up to Rhaenys, fury in his eyes that burned brighter than Caraxes flames. “You and Corlys promised that my daughter would be safe with you. I allowed her to become your ward because I trusted you. Now tell me… Where is my daughter?” His voice lowers, deepens as he glares into her eyes.

With such close proximity, Rhaenys instinctively drew her hand back  and slapped Daemon on the face. The sound echoed through the throne room and many immediately reacted to the violence. Alicent went rigid, standing in front of Rhaenyra with a look of fear and conviction in her eyes to protect her pregnant friend and stepdaughter.

“Enough! Both of you!” Alicent shrieked, glaring at the two raging dragons. Her gaze shifts toward Corlys, who quickly notices her. The current lord of the tides is quick to hurry to his wife’s side, soothing her as much as she can as he whispers comforting words into her ear.

Alicent breathes a sigh of relief after Corlys was sensible enough to calm at least one of them. The only one left was Daemon, who was seething more than Rhaenys. 

“Silence, both of you…” Her voice comes out cold and sharp, “Consider how Rhaenyra feels before you fight in front of her… I understand that you two are upset—more than upset—but now is not the time to argue! Two of Driftmark’s heirs are missing and we must cooperate to find at least one of them immediately.” Although her voice is harsh, her hands tremble as she glares at them.

Before they could speak any further, the doors to the throne room were slammed open and the sound of clicking boots echoed. Alicent shifts, scowling as she immediately cusses out the incompetent guards in her mind. 

Baela marches up to them with fury,  hand on the hilt of her sword as she glares at everyone. Her fiery gaze shows no mercy to anyone, not her father, not her pregnant stepmother, not her grandparents — no one as she stomps towards them with conviction and fury. She stops only to stand before the regent, not even caring to greet her properly. She was too angry, too frustrated, too desperate to be polite or show proper manners. Everyone knew.

"My sister…" she whispers, lilac eyes narrowing as she grips the hilt of her sword.

Alicent panics, gripping Rhaenyra's hand tightly. She worries for Baela's mind. She worries that her beloved Rhaenyra will be hurt. 

But contrary to everyone's expectations, especially that of Alicent's, Baela takes a knee and stares at the cobblestone floors. She takes a deep breath, “Your majesty… allow me to take my dragon and search for my sister. Please… As much as I wish to search for Prince Lucerys, I must find my sister first…”

Baela's body shakes. Her self-control was frightening. It was so unlike her, her the loss of her sister changed her in a terrifying  way. She resembled Daemon, yet she resembled Laena. It was… Haunting. “Please grant me this mercy…”

“Baela…” Daemon whispers, a look of distraught flashing over his face as he stares at his firstborn. 

“Stand up…” Rhaenyra breathes out, a hand on her belly. The iron throne was not a seat that suited the body of a pregnant woman. But Rhaenyra endured and sucked in a deep breath, closing her eyes as she took a moment to think. 

Her beloved Lucerys was still out there, but now her precious Rhaena has been taken from them. The situation was dire, it caused her gulp. Her hand quivers as Alicent holds it right, her best friend whispering calm words into her ear. But Rhaenyra calms herself… “Baela… I shall grant you permission to search for Rhaena… for now… until Princess Rhaena is found…”

Rhaenyra sucks in another breath, struggling to get the words out of her. Her eyes water for a fraction of a second before her gaze hardens within an instant. 

“The search for Prince Lucerys shall be postponed.”

“What?!” Jacaerys barges into the throne room, distraught as he stares at his mother. But he flinches when he sees how tired she looked. “I— Muña…”

“Enough. My decision is final. We shall search for Rhaena first before continuing the search for Lucerys.” she firmly states. “Daemon, take Baela and whoever is willing to fly with you back to Essos and search for Rhaena. Rhaenys…”

“I wish to join them…” Rhaenys stated, her tone stern and determined as she stood straight before Rhaenyra. Their eyes locked and it was as if the entire world melted away. They were mothers. Everyone knew that mother dragons were so much more fearsome than any kind of dragon. 

Rhaenyra nods, “Very well.” She sucks in a breath, rubbing her bump before she closes her eyes. The stress was getting to her, not even Alicent’s calming words were working on her.

She takes in deep breaths. Again—her child ruthlessly kicks at her, as if saying she wanted to join the search as well. The thought is absurd, and it causes a laugh to escape her lips. She might have looked as if she was in hysterics, as Alicent and Daemon were ushering her back to her chambers. 

They pass by Helaena, and she sees this knowing and sorrowful look on her sister’s face. Rhaenyra does not know if that is a bad omen or not, but it causes knots to form in her stomach. What did that look mean? Was it Lucerys or Rhaena? By the fourteen flames, Rhaenyra might actually fall into hysterics if this chaos continues on.

Her babies… oh her babies…

She was going to burn every single triarchy base for taking her daughter.

Aenar searched high and low for the missing princess. Time was passing and every single second that was lost caused Lucerys to grow more agitated. For god’s sake, he’s already sent three more of his mercs to the infirmary after he lashed out. The guild members were growing wary and confused as to why their guildmaster was so angry. Even Melisandre couldn’t calm his wrath.

But Aenar couldn’t quite blame him. If Naeryn were to be kidnapped like that, he’d go mad with worry and rage as well… but unlike Lucerys, Aenar did not possess the terrifying power of literally going blank and slaughtering everything in his path. 

Blank . Aenar and Naeryn called the state in which Lucerys lost himself and went feral that. It happened a few times. And everytime it did, it was as if everything was wiped from Lucerys’ mind—everything but slaughter, massacre, murder. It was a horrific sight… as if all humanity was drained from Lucerys… But when he snapped out of it, it was like he couldn’t remember what he'd done. Lucerys always did say that his memories were fuzzy after such instances. 

Aenar wanted to avoid that as much as possible. Equinox will not fall—not after everything Lucerys sacrificed to build it up from literally nothing.

“Lord Aeric!” One of the mercenaries yelled, “We’ve got something.”

Aenar — along with many others — sighed in relief at the good news. He instantly demanded to be informed of what had been discovered, inevitably being led to a map. Jaeros was there, staring at a small red flaglet stabbed somewhere on the patch of land that was Lys. 

“Aeric…” Jaeros murmured, gesturing to the red flaglet. “Princess Rhaena is being held captive in the Triarchy’s base in Lys… The dragon chains were forged there as well.”

“Tsk… Those bastards thought of what would happen if the Targaryens arrived.” He clicked his tongue. The thought of either Arrax or Grey Ghost getting chained was absolutely displeasing. “Is her presence there confirmed? Have you sent anyone to keep an eye on her to keep her safe and prevent… any inappropriate behavior from the Triarchy.”

A few of the mercs present winced at the implications. The triarchy were savages, and Rhaena Targaryen was a Valyrian lady who was yet to turn ten and eight. 

“Prevent that from happening, Jaeros…” Aenar narrows his eyes at the older man. “Lest Lucerion goes on one of his rampages again.”

A shudder passes through the room. Majority of the guild were aware of how dangerous their guildmaster became during one of his rampages. It hasn’t been a full year since the last massacre, and some of the assassins were still recovering from the traumatic sight of Lucerion ripping a man’s throat open. Even Naeryn was extremely disturbed, and they were Saera’s grandchildren for goodness sake. A beheading looked tame to the slaughter Lucerys performed.

“Noted…” Jaeros mumbled… “We must inform the guild master immediately.”

“I couldn’t agree more!” Aenar smiled.

Yet that smile faded when he noticed everyone staring at him. Apparently, it was his responsibility to inform the agitated dragon of the good news. He looked around, trying to catch even the tiniest bit of compliance but to no avail.

“Oh yes! Sacrifice me to our dear lord.” Aenar groaned, before he shook his head and excited the small meeting room. Might as well tell Lucerys of what was going on. That might actually calm some of his raging wrath… hopefully. 

Everyone behind Aenar saluted him, some already crying as if he was walking to his death.

Might as well be.

Not long after the accursed information sharing that Aenar proceeded with… Lucerys was oddly calm. His eyes remained with their reddish hue, as well as the fact that he kept Reaper’s Ruin on him at all times… but aside from that, he was tame—to an extent. Still…

Naeryn was dispatched almost immediately to Lys to check up on Rhaena. Whether her news will be good or bad, so long as there is confirmation on Rhaena, Lucerys will go to Lys himself. Arrax would be made to soar the skies and potentially risk Lucerys’ identity as the leader of equinox. Regardless of that, Naeryn had Melisandre to thank for keeping Lucerys level headed, regardless of how much trouble he may cause in the coming future.  

Still, Naeryn only took the best of her assassins. Wenona would be waiting for them at Lys. Wenona had been assigned as the princess' maid and was quite protective of her after a time. That was an advantage  for them, as Naeryn did not trust the mercs to actually keep Princess Rhaena safe. No matter how much her brother trusted his mercs, she did not and would prefer her assassin's over them any day. Of course, the best source of information was Lucerion and Melisandre's faction of Equinox—the informants.

Regardless of how much they would need for Lucerys to join them, he was unstable. Naeryn was well aware of this and was fairly relieved that Lucerys was not dispatched to Lys just yet. If Rhaena's condition was not confirmed, Lucerys' reaction would be unpredictable and unstable; it could possibly lead to yet another massacre from their ruthless guild master. 

She couldn't quite get it out of her head… Lucerys' eyes still had their reddish hue and that alone was an omen. The rest of the guild may not know considering the mask he wore, but that did not stop the few who have seen his face to panic at the sight of the red. 

They were not like the fiery red of Melisandre's haunting eyes. No.

Naeryn compared Lucerion's red to blood and death. 

The wind hit her right in the face as Grey Ghost soared through the skies. Her assassins would get to Lys on boats, specifically Serylea's ship. She just hopes that the captain's ship would be fast enough to get there on time. She'd need a messenger after confirming Rhaena's situation. The faster the message reaches Braavos, the faster Lucerys calms and follows after her. Regardless of that, it would still be difficult to get back to the headquarters in record time.

When she neared Lys, she ordered for Grey Ghost to halt and remain in the air. The triarchy would see her dragon and immediately know what was going on. Well… not quite. They'd assume the Targaryen's have already come for their princess, and that was not something they wanted. She cursed under her breath, ordering Grey Ghost to land of the closest patch of land that was near Lys. Unfortunately, that land was separated from Lys with an entire ocean. 

“Fuck…” She murmured, landing somewhere at the edge of Tyrosh. She sighed, shaking her head before she patted Grey Ghost's scales. “My heart… Do forgive me… but please wait a bit. I will return when the princess is returned to Lucerion.” she pressed a kiss to Grey Ghost's scales, listening to her dragon huffing at the blatant show of affection. It's been a few years since she's formed a bond with her dragon, and they've been wonderful. 

As much as she hated to part from her companion, she had to. Eventually, she snuck into a boat that was speedily moving to Lys. That would be enough time for her to go and meet with Wenona, deal with any obstacles, and get to Rhaena Targaryen in record time… that was still a possibility, but Naeryn was determined to finish it up as soon as possible.

Sitting behind some crates, Naeryn sighed and took out her flask. Aenar had always said that if coffee was a drug, she and Lucerys would have overdosed. Regardless, she downs half of the flask as if it were an alcoholic drink. She sighed again, wiping her lips as she felt the ship sway and then come to a stop. Her target was so close now… and perhaps…

If Rhaena were to be returned, she may stay with Lucerys. And Naeryn prays that the princess can help tame their ferocious leader.

Unlikely, she told herself as she carefully snuck out the ship. The crew were unloading the crates, she assumed half of those crates were food, a portion being wine, and another portion carrying meat. She could smell it from a mile away. 

The triarchy base was what anyone would expect from a military base. She maneuvered around it rather quickly. It wasn't difficult to remember the note that Wenona had urgently sent to them.

Rhaena Targaryen is trapped in one of the towers, not the dungeon.

The towers. 

It was as if the triarchy was mocking the Targaryen's by putting their princess in the tower — waiting to be saved by a dragon. Naeryn would have found it amusing, had the prospect of that dragon in question being Lucerys not existed. If Lucerys were the dragon to save Rhaena, then there would be severe bloodshed that even the most weathered soldiers would gag from. 

When she arrived to one of the towers, Naeryn was quick to search for Wenona. It wasn't hard to find the ginger haired woman lurking in a corner. The other assassin's eyes lit up at the sight of her, but Naeryn pressed a finger to her lips, telling the young woman to keep silent. Without a word, Wenona gestured to the guarded door, clearly stating that Rhaena was imprisoned there. 

“... Knockout gas or…”

“Poison.” Naeryn immediately decides, taking out two vials of dark green liquid. She handed one to Wenona and the two got to work.

“They better have left her alone.” 

The guards lay dead on the ground, and Naeryn rummages through their armour and clothing for any sign of a key. She almost grins when she finds the key.

She shoved it into the keyhole and opened it without a second thought. Right in the middle of the room stood Rhaena Targaryen, ethereal as ever with her dark skin, pale hair, and beautiful eyes. Yet in her hands was a dagger, growling at them as she kept a cautious distance between her and the two of them.

“Who are you?” Rhaena demands, taking a cautious step back. She contradicted the elegant look she carried the last time Naeryn saw her. Now, she looked like a wild animal. 

Her dress was ripped and tattered, there was dust and grime on her skin, and her hair was obviously suffering. Naeryn immediately dreaded what she was to learn. Had Rhaena been violated, then there really was no stopping Lucerys from feeding the entire population of Lys to his Arrax.

“ANSWER ME!” Rhaena screams, holding her dagger close.

Naeryn immediately remembers what Lucerys told her. Evidently, she envied this girl… the girl who held Lucerys' affections and love. The girl who…

Tell her I sent you. Lucerys had told her. Not Lucerion Blackfyre… Luke. Tell her Luke sent you.

Naeryn sucked in a breath, approaching her with caution. Lucerys loved his siblings dearly, but she knew Rhaena was his favorite. If she had Aenar, then Lucerys had Rhaena.

“Princess…” She calmly spoke, keeping her voice steady and soft. “We're not here to hurt you.”

“Liar! What have you done? Are you one of Hightower's assassins?” Rhaena hissed, looking wilder than ever. 

Naeryn immediately gulps. This was getting out of hand. She wanted to keep Lucerys' identity a secret… but this girl has practically gone feral. Her eyes immediately shifted to the necklace that Rhaena was clutching and she takes a deep breath.

“The one who gifted you that necklace sent us.” She explained softly, taking another step forward. 

Rhaena's eyes widened and Naeryn saw a whirlwind of emotions. Naeryn saw flashes of fear, shock, sorrow, then anger. She didn't believe her, and then Naeryn finally said…

“Luke sent us.”

Lucerys only needed a word from Melisandre and then he was back in the sky. Her prophetic capabilities really were better than messengers. She had warned him… time and time again she had warned him of the possibility of being dragged back to Westeros, but Lucerys was… desperate. Rhaena was the sibling he trusted most, the one sibling who would have understood his reasons for running. How could he just let her stay with the triarchy? The Targaryen's may take some time to find her, but he was not going to let this go without consequences.

Arrax growled as Lucerys commanded him to go higher. His dragon gladly shot up higher and blended in with the clouds. Better safe than sorry, he tells himself. 

Lys wasn't too far away now.

He'd get there soon, and he'd burn it down if any of those cunts harmed his sister. 

Arrax roared, burst of smoke and flame coming out of their maw as they passed through clouds and slammed against the wind. Lucerys grits his teeth at the speed at which Arrax was moving. His dragon seems to agree with his agitation and urgency to get his sister back home… safely. 

“Arrax— Lykirī. ” He grits out. He needed to stay calm, keep calm… lest Arrax siphons of his emotions and go wild themselves. Lucerys would prefer to avoid his dragon going mad from his own madness.

Lucerys sucks in a deep breath. “ Mēre, lanta, hāre. ” he counted, trying to keep himself steady.

They were getting closer to Lys. He could feel it.

“Sister… wait for me…” He whispers to himself as the wind grows loud and louder once Arrax accelerates. He hastens himself, clutching at the saddle and reigns as much as he could, preventing himself from falling. His fear of falling to the sea vanished, replaced by his worry for Rhaena. He wouldn't let her get hurt. He did not die, come back, and built his own kingdom of information just for his sister to die early. To hell with fate, to hell with his identity.

Rhaena needed him.

“I don't suppose you've forgotten me?!” 

Right… Aenar was with him. 

The idiot was screaming like a banshee from the speed, whilst Lucerys faced the wind head on. While he was determined and calm, Aenar was screaming bloody murder and cursing all the gods he knew while praying for them to keep him to the saddle that he and Luke were sharing. Regardless of that, Lucerys did not make Arrax slow down.

“ Soves Arrax! ” Lucerys commander, and Arrax roars in reply. The white scaled dragon flew faster than ever, and poor Aenar was still screaming about how he was going to be thrown of. 

“Fourteen Flames have mercy!”

The triarchy base is cold. Lucerys takes notice with an almost annoyed expression. Triarchy soldiers linger and it's difficult to sneak around them — especially with a nauseous Aenar following him around. The other Targaryen was swaying from side side as Lucerys dragged him around. 

“Get a grip.”

“If I lost it, you'd have thrown me to the sea.” Aenar hissed, slapping a hand to his mouth to prevent himself from vomitting. 

“Melisandre said she'd be in a tower.” Lucerys grumbled, running through the halls and slipping into some closets from time to time to hide from the soldiers. Their loud marching was enough to alert him whenever they came, making it easier to hide immediately. The Triarchy were less secured than he expected, but that played out better for him. It ensured that he wouldn't be damned by being caught — unless a god, specifically Meleys, decides to fuck with him.

“We can't keep sneaking around like this… we need a disguise.” Aenar advised, gesturing towards a pair of guards that were already nodding off. 

“Give me a minute.”

Lucerys murmured, before marching up to the guards. He took out two of his daggers, and the sound of metal being unsheathed alerted the two guards immediately. Misfortune lay before them as Lucerys aimed his daggers right in the middle of their forehead, killing them instantly. Their bodies thudding to the ground was the only thing that could have been heard. There were no screaming, no struggle — instant death. Just as Lucerys preferred. 

He ripped their armors of their bodies, not minding Aenar's unnerved look. He simply took the armour, put it on himself and then shoved their bodies into an empty room. He placed the helmet over his head, obscuring his entire face. 

“Aenar, stop being stubborn.”

“You just desecrated a man's corpse!”

“You know I've done worse than this.” Lucerys bluntly replied, shoving the helmet into Aenar's hands. He has done worse, he will do worse, and Lucerys will continue to do worse. He was not a saint, he was not the sweet boy his mother yearned to get back. His old self perished, and all that is left is the ashes of who he died as. “Be quick. If I don't get Rhaena out of here immediately, then I'll have your heads.” 

“You—” Aenar groaned, before he begrudgingly put the armour on. “Brute.”

“I've been called worse.”

He doesn't pay any more attention to Aenar. His focus once again shifts to the prospect of Rhaena being in danger, and it changes him. His posture goes rigid and he mimics the way the triarchy marches. Aenar follows suit, adjusting his hold on the scabbard. Admittedly, Lucerys did not change his sword, he kept Reaper's ruin close. 

At some point, they interacted with some other soldiers. Aenar was quick to take the lead, knowing that Lucerys was too unstable to properly speak to anyone from the Triarchy. 

“You two.” One of the soldiers said, “Get on with guarding the Targaryen cunts room.”

Lucerys clenches his fists. 

“Tsk. The general doesn't want us touchin' her.” Another soldier said and Aenar wants to stop them. “Valyrian bitch but bet she's virgin. Untouched and all… I always wondered how it felt to deflower a Targaryen whore.” he laughed. 

Aenar had to grab Lucerys and drag him towards the tower before he goes on an inevitable massacre. If they could linger, Lucerys would have taken this chance to kill everyone in Lys, none would be spared from Arrax's flames. 

“Calm down, please.” Aenar begged, pulling him towards the tower where Rhaena was said to be imprisoned. “ Lykirī .” He said, the valyrian command was used on Dragons… but Lucerys looked more dragon than man in that moment. Thank the gods for the helmet, because Aenar was sure that Luke's eyes were red again. 

“We're getting closer. Please… Lucerys— Lucerion. ” Aenars stressed. Lucerys was different from Lucerion. They had always known this. They knew when their guild master was Rys or Rion . “Come on… Ryn would have been keeping Rhaena calm. Lucerion, keep calm. Please… now is not the time to go blank!”

Lucerys grits his teeth, but he complies. He yanks his hand away from Aenar and marches in front of him. The boom of his steps slowly fade away and his steps grow silent. It was… unnerving… but Lucerys continues to quickly walk towards the tower that held his sister.

Calm. Calm. Calm. Calm. 

He repeatedly thinks and failed.

But in no time… he finds himself standing before the door that hid his previous sister. All of a sudden, Lucerys is trembling. He hasn't seen Rhaena for years. He abandoned her to save himself. How was he to face her? How was he to explain why he ran? How was he to explain why he broke all the promises they made?

He gulps, a trembling hand hovering over the knob. 

“Luke… it's okay…” Aenar whispers, placing a comforting hand to Lucerys' shoulder. “She's your sister… go on… I don't doubt that you two missed each other.” He sighs, smiling softly at Lucerys. “It's time you reunite with someone. Let that be Rhaena.”

Lucerys blinks. He glanced at Aenar, who can only smiled with sympathy. He begins to hear muffled voices from behind the door. He recognizes both as Rhaena and Naeryn. Naeryn sounded stressed while Rhaena was agitated. All he can do is gulp, nodding as he twisted the nob open. 

The door opens…

And Lilac eyes meet with reddish hues. 

Rhaena stares. She's silent, her eyes wide as she drops her dagger. She's trembling all of a sudden and all she can do is breath heavily. Her hands slap over her mouth, tears welling in her eyes. 

“Luke?”

Lucerys smiles.

This was Lucerys. Not Lucerion. Lucerys . 

“Sister.”

Chapter Text

Rhaena and Luke would have gotten married in a different universe. Perhaps, in a different life, all they had was each other. Even so, not much has changed. Love was a complex and broad term. From romance to family, Rhaena and Luke could have been everything. But in this life, in this life and the last, Rhaena was Luke’s sister first and foremost. She was cherished, extremely.

High tide and low tide. Rhaena and Luke were two sides of the same coin. They were tides — caused by the moon. Both were born for the position of the Driftwood Throne. Both of them could have had it, but in the end, Lucerys only preferred only one of them to sit on that throne. In the end, Rhaena was made to be Lady of the Tides.

Lucerys had his own issues. 

He didn’t feel like a tide anymore. He was an equinox. A balance between day and night. 

They clung to one another like glue. Unable to let go as Rhaena wept into his shoulder. The poor thing cried and cried, wailing and cursing as she repeatedly hit her brother without any thought. Her sorrow and joy mixed as she continued to weep. Her brother. Her brother! Her Luke… He was there, real and not simply her dreams. It made her heart ache yet it swelled with pure joy. 

Their reunion was amazing.

Rhaena pulled away, cupping her brother’s face as she tried to make sense of everything. Her heart pounded in her chest, calming herself down as she stared intently at him. A gentle smile graced Rhaena’s lips. 

“You bastard!” Rhaena’s palm meets with Lucerys’ face. The horrible sound of the slap echoing in the room.

The three members of Equinox cringed, stepping away as their leader is viciously slapped by the very sister they came to save. Thought doubting Rhaena Targaryen was a mistake in itself. She was a Targaryen but what the three worried about was the fact that she was Lucerion Blackfyre’s beloved sister. Beloved by their most benevolent leader. Though beloved, they had not expected for Lucerys to take that lying. 

“How could you?” Rhaena spat, “After years of making me worry and fret, you return like—like—”

“Like an amazingly good looking young man?” Lucerys sheepishly continues her cut of words. 

Rhaena snarls, gifting him yet another smack as he swiftly dodges her attempt. That didn't stop her from using her other hand, backhanding the guild master of Equinox whilst his subordinates watched in fascination and horror. In the eyes of those at equinox, sans the small few that knew of Lucerion’s true identity, revered their leader as an immortal and undying individual. No one dared to defy him, yet Wenona finds herself questioning such a belief as the princess she had served ruthlessly assaulted the leader she followed.

Nursing his bruised cheek, Lucerys leveled his sister with a narrow yet fond gaze. It was returned with ferocity and an equal sense of fondness. Loving yet fierce. That was what they were. “It’s wonderful to see you as well, mandia… ” Lucerys chuckled softly, cupping her cheek and kissing her forehead. “Nyke've missed ao, mandia… ” I've missed you, sister.

Rhaena sniffled lightly, “Your Valyrian has gotten better.”

A soft chuckle escaped Lucerys, hugging Rhaena tightly as he smiled into her hair. “I did, didn't I?” 

The loud noise of someone clearing their throat interrupted their fateful reunion, earning Aenar an irksome expression from Lucerys. The young man grinned nervously at the glare, but remained resolute. “As much as I despise interrupting your little reunion, we must make haste. By now, the triarchy must have been alerted of the presence of intruders. 

With a nod, Lucerys turned back to Rhaena. “He is right, mandia . We must make haste if we intend to escape unscathed. Arrax and Grey Ghost linger near but we must be outside for our dragons to properly retrieve us.” He ushered her out the door, followed by the rest of the group. 

A single step out of the door and guards swarmed them. The guards of the triarchy were burly and large, both good and bad for them. “Did you bring your crossbow?” Lucerys asked, glancing at Naeryn as he placed Rhaena behind him. These guards meant nothing to him. Reaper’s Ruin was made of Valyrian steel, skill almost didn't matter with that kind of weapon. The steel he had was great, strong, and near unbreakable.

The triarchy could come at him and he would slaughter them if they dared to touch one of his.

Naeryn and Wenona nodded, taking out their crossbows as they aimed it at the large and tall men. The guards laughed, assuming that their arrows were feeble and weak against their calloused skin and scarred bodies. It was laughable in his eyes, as he stared intently at them. A small smirk graced Lucerys’ lips, gesturing for the two assassins to fire.

Arrows immediately came at a flurry. The arrows hitting their targets, embedding poison into the guards’ blood. Lucerys pushed Rhaena into Aenar’s arms, grabbing one of his daggers and shoving it into Rhaena’s hands. “Go! Get her out of here… Rhaena, call for Arrax. He knows you, he will listen.” Lucerys hurriedly said, pushing her and Aenar towards the stares as he backed up Naeryn and Wenona.

“Masks on!” Lucerys growled, his pitch black mask hiding his face as the two assassins covered their faces as well. 

“Aeric! Get the princess to safety or your head will be displayed to all the mercs of the guild!” His voice was gravelly and deep, unlike the softness Rhaena had just heard. Lucerys sounded cruel and rough, so different from her sweet, darling brother. It scared her.

Struggling in the man’s — Aenar or was it Aeric — grip, Rhaena screamed for her brother, “Luce—” Her mouth was covered in an instant as she was slung over the man's shoulder with ease. “Release me! I am a princess and future lady of the tides! My brother! Get me back to Luce—”

“Princess,” The man, Aenar, Aeric—she didn’t care, growled at her. “Sorry but I don’t give a fuck about how you feel. Do not utter our leader’s true name in front of his enemies, that will be lethal to him. That man is named Lucerion Blackfyre, our guildmaster.” 

Rhaena pursed her lips, “I don’t care what he is called! He is, and always will be, my brother. Now, release me, you brute!” The princess loudly screeched, yelping as Aenar descended the stairs a little faster.

Aenar almost sputtered. Him? A brute? Surely he was far from such a term, considering who his sister and best friend were. By the fourteen flames, was he turning into Lucerys and Naeryn? The thought made him shudder, making haste as he kept Luke’s threat in his mind. Such a thing was not beyond their guildmaster who had already pushed a multitude of people out the window and dangled them by windowsills. 

“Look, princess, your brother isn’t the same person as he used to be.” Aenar grunted, frustrated with the number of stairs that he was forced to go down. “Luke isn’t the sweet boy you think he is. That’s the most ruthless man I know, so that threat to behead me is truer than anything. So, as eloquently as I can, forgive me but your brother will kill me if you are harmed even the slightest bit.”

Continuing to writhe and yell, Rhaena protested as she tried to push herself off him. “My brother is not like that!”

“Suck it up!” Aenar grits his teeth, “Simply kidnapping you is gonna get the entire Triarchy killed. Arrax is gonna burn this entire place to the ground.” 

She doesn’t dare to believe him. Luke was kind, he was caring, he was thoughtful. This was an absolute lie. Luke wouldn’t… he wouldn’t.

Naeryn pursed her lips, wiping the little blood on her crossbow as Wenona shakily walked behind her. Glancing at her subordinate, she sighed at the shaken look on her face. “Calm down. Don’t vomit now.”

Wenona gulped, “Lady Rynvel… Is that… Is that really how Lord Blackfyre fights?”

The poor thing, she thought remembering the first time she saw Luke go on a rampage. It was a horrific scene. Almost two years ago, when the guild was still a mere thought. Negotiations had been done, the entire thing was catastrophic as they were unaware of how vile and misogynistic those people were. The feel of their hands remains a horrible memory in her mind but feeling their blood splatter across her face kept the memory alive in her mind. The blood and Lucerion’s red eyes. 

A small grimace graced her lips, hiding her distraught and anxiety, but some of it easily slipped through. 

“Yes… Lucerion is a cruel man when it comes to those he cherish.”

“Beg pardon but… What significance does Princess Rhaena pose to the guildmaster.” 

Sighing tiredly, Naeryn chooses not to reply. She follows quietly, walking down the steep staircase. Lilac eyes landed on the crimson stains on the steps, chewing on her lip as those stains dwindled with every step. Carefully, her eyes landed on the cause of such stains. Red footsteps that come from Lucerys’ blood boots. That same red dripped from Reaper’s Ruin.

The sight is horrible, but being a member of Equinox promised bloodshed and gore. But such things were not the same as the cruelness of a destructive slaughter. 

“Lucerion…” She uttered softly, careful as she tries to forget the sight of their guildmaster mercilessly killing those guards for merely taking his sister captive. 

The poison arrows dug into that triarchy scum’s skin, injecting the poison into their blood. Naeryn pursed her lips, continuing to fire arrow from arrow as she and Wenona tried to buy them as much time as possible. They were assassins, more used to stealth then destruction as loud as those of the mercs in their company. 

They took steps back as the triarchy men removed the arrows, the effects of the poison delayed as they smirked, thinking they were unaffected. A minute. It only took a minute before the poison began to work and all those who were hit with their arrows collapsed, foaming at their mouths as their lips turned blue. Their comrades took notice, angered as they launched themselves at the two women without a single thought outside of vengeance. Petty, stupid, vengeance. 

Naeryn flinched, the flash of a blade causing her to push Wenona back as one of the guards lost an arm, severed as it lay bloody on the floor. Like every man who's lost a limb, their minds faltered for a moment, trying to process what has happened before a guttural scream escaped his lips. In a quick second, Lucerys followed that scream and sliced his head of. 

Valyrian steel cut through the guard's skin, through his bone, and reappeared on the other side of his neck. The head rolled towards the rest of the guards, and Lucerys stared them down. 

“Fire.” The word leaves his lips with a soft yet menacing tone. 

On instinct, Naeryn and Wenona raised their crossbows, beginning to shoot rapidly as Lucerys cut through the guard's with ease. To those not used to bloodshed, they would have fainted at the sight, but even assassin's such as themselves looked queasy as Lucerys kept chopping their limbs off like he was slicing through his favorite steak. 

Ruthlessness was a sort of mercy to Lucerys. 

Melisandre had told them herself that such a saying was taught to him by her. Naeryn did not know what transpired during Lucerys training with Melisandre, she only knew of his tiresome training with Jaeros, but none knew of what Melisandre taught him. Regardless, with every lesson, he grew wiser, with his wisdom came cunning, and his cunning was followed by ruthlessness that was commended in the battlefield. Even so, Naeryn struggled to see the boy she first met. 

She heard Wenona gasp, pushing her subordinate behind her again as Lucerys kicked one of the guards out the window. They could practically imagine the horrible sound of bones breaking, keeping their distance as Lucerys continued his slaughter. 

“My lady… is that really our guild master?” Wenona asked in a shaky voice. 

“Hush Wenona.” Naeryn soothed, “Lucerion does not like it when people take what is his… never likes it when one of his treasures are purloined from him.”

Lucerys does not respond, merely hurting down the steps with Reaper's Ruin still in his tight grip. The sword was readied, not only a precaution for them but a warning to everyone around them. Those at Equinox knew of the infamous blade. Their guild master has mercilessly massacred many with it after all. 

“Make haste,” He briskly informed, skipping a few steps, going faster. “Even if they got to our dragons, there is no telling if they've escaped.” 

Naeryn nodded, agreeing without a word as she and Wenona hurriedly followed him. 

“Luke! Luke!” The cry was heard from afar. 

Lucerys paused, bewildered at the sight of his sister and Aenar clearly arguing but the latter still remained loyal to his orders. Unfortunately, Rhaena was a piece of work, writhing and hitting the leader of his mercs as she tried to get to him. 

A sigh escaped his lips, not daring to sheath his blade but reluctantly hurried to Aenar’s side. “Give her to me.” he said, watching as Aenar reluctantly set her down. 

Again, Rhaena envelops him in a hug and Lucerys returns it halfheartedly. “Why—Why are you covered in blood? Luke, Luke what's happening?” She stuttered, frightened as all unseasoned killers were. Lucerys’ eyes soften behind his mask, pursing his lips as he reminds himself that Rhaena was not like his mercs and assassins. 

“There is no time to explain.” Lucerys snapped, just as a loud noise was sent through the triarchy base. A horn, alarming every single triarchy bastard and bitch of Rhaena’s escape. “Fuck! Rhaena, questions later!” He yelled, picking up Rhaena with his one free arm and slinging her over his shoulder. 

The princess screamed, but did not protest with him, unlike how she did with Aenar. The five — four as Rhaena was safely tucked over Lucerys' shoulder — ran and ran, continuing to go faster as dozens upon dozens of soldiers. 

Naeryn and Aenar readied to fight them, their masks hiding their identities as those soldiers of the triarchy eagerly fashioned their Blade's against them. They were severely outnumbered. Even with Lucerys vicious nature, they doubted he could fight properly with Rhaena present. He would prioritize Rhaena's safety above all. 

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!” Aenar cursed, “Call for Arrax and Grey Ghost already!” He snapped, turning to Naeryn and Lucerys. 

Lucerys heeded his words, gritting his teeth as held Rhaena tight. “Māzigon, Arrax! ” He yelled, voice ripping through the air as the soldiers came closer. The blood that dripped down Reaper’s Ruin was still fresh, covered in the blood of those triarchy bastard's comrades. 

Aenar readies his sword, as Naeryn aims her crossbow at the men. 

Yet before they could attack, a defeating roar strikes through the triarchy base. Their eyes shoot up to see the viridian gleam of scales, the dragon landing between the Equinox group and the Triarchy. 

Familiar brown hair, familiar eyes. 

Their eyes widen behind their masks, taking a cautious step back as Jacaerys levels their group with a glare. Rhaena slung over Lucerion's shoulder, they would have looked like kidnappers. Immediately realizing her situation, Rhaena was quick to twist in Lucerion's arms, screaming at Jacaerys to half his dragon's flames. 

“They mean no harm! They saved me! Jace, don't hurt them!” She yelled, fearful of Lucerys' safety of their own brother. Fear-stricken lilac eyes meet with the mask, but she knows Lucerys is looking at her. He had left for a reason, and she dares not to expose him just yet. 

A bewildered look finds Jacaerys countenance, but he heeds her words and aims Vermax’s maw at the triarchy. They yell, a cry of war and Aenar suddenly remembers. 

“Look out for their dragon chains! They're big enough to hold down a dragon!” He yelled, earning a little nod from Jacaerys who growled at the triarchy. 

Lucerion gritted his teeth. The entire situation was chaotic in itself. It was supposed to be a quiet and stealthy escape, yet they were stuck with this mess. He sincerely hopes that Jacaerys came alone, but he highly doubts that. 

As if the gods meant to mock him, yet another roar rips through the air and the earth rumbles as another dragon lands. Their escape was futile, trapped between green and red dragons. Lucerion's eyes widened as he catches a glimpse of Daemon's fiery gaze, gulping as he feels imminent danger with his stepfather in tow. His grip on Rhaena slackens for a moment, clicking his tongue as more dragons arrive. 

His gaze turns to the sky, freezing as he sees Meleys and Moondancer flying above them, readying to land. 

Baela and her dragon land first, a vicious scream ripping from her throat as she sees her sister in the arms of a masked man. Rhaena was quick to react, telling her the same thing she told Jace. 

The Equinox group was in turmoil, confused as to what they must do. As much as Lucerion wished to whisk his sister away to Braavos, he dared not to lead the Targaryens to his headquarters. A choice was to be made, and as much as he despised to part with what he considers his twin flame, he adjusts Rhaena in his arms and whispers softly into her ear. 

“Forgive me, mandia … but this is where we part…”

Rhaena's eyes prick with tears, as she gasps and nearly cries once their separation becomes clear. “ Valonqar, please…” She whispered, pleading him and yet she knew he would not listen. 

He dared not to gift her a kiss to the forehead this time. “Keep my dagger, it will keep you safe… I will send Wenona back to you, and with her, you shall send me letters as much as you wish. But please… do not tell them I was here. ” He pleaded, gulping as he conveyed his own fears and worries with a stern yet anxious tone. Rhaena would understand. She always understood him. 

With a solemn look, she nodded, clinging to him tightly. 

“Avy jorrāelan.” Rhaena whispered softly. 

“Avy jorrāelan tolī.” He whispers back. “Geros ilas.”

Lucerion gulped, “Aeric! Rynvel! Ready yourselves. Take your subordinate, Aeric will join me.” He commanded, turning towards Daemon who observed him with narrowed eyes. 

He ran, and ran, Rhaena secured in his arms as he approached Caraxes without a care. The blood wyrm can burn him, swallow him in flames, but Rhaena must be kept safe. He vowed to Balerion that his beloved sister would be saved and would escape unscathed. 

“Who—”

“Take her!” He yelled, hoisting Rhaena up, urging Daemon to take her. “Go! They have chains to bind dragons. GO! GO AND ENSURE SHE IS SAFE!” Fury and concern in his voice, he forced Rhaena into Caraxes’ saddle, to which Daemon easily secured her in front of him. 

The rogue prince gives him a questioning look, but Rhaena redirects his attention to herself. 

“Kepa, we must go. Now!” She urged, glancing at Lucerys one last time before she once again begged her father. “PLEASE!” 

Daemon, vicious as he was, heeded his distressed daughter's words, turning to his cousin, daughter, and son. “Ivestragī's jikagon.” Let's go.

“What about them!?” Baela pointed at the four, but Rhaena shook her head. 

“They can take care of themselves.” She insisted, tugging at Daemon's sleeve once again. 

The four dragon riders hesitantly took to the skies again, but Daemon was a vengeful man. Lucerion realized, he remembered. Cursing himself, he grabbed Aenar and Naeryn, who grabbed Wenona as they took cover behind a large stone. 

“Drakarys!” Daemon's voice was like a roar in the air, loud and cruel Caraxes spewed flames onto the triarchy soldiers. His dark amethyst eyes glared down at the burnt soldiers, their screams echoing through the base as he leaves with a single warning. “NO ONE WILL HARM MY CHILDREN!” He roared, tugging at Caraxes reigns as the blood wyrm flew higher into the skies. The other three followed, showing mercy as they did not burn the entire base down. 

“Fuck… holy fuck…” Aenar gasped, “That's the rogue prince?” He pointed to the place where Daemon was, “Damn… the princess is definitely his daughter. Nicked my arm, see?” He showed them the little bruise on his arm, to which Naeryn scoffed. 

“The mission has been a success. Let's go.” She sighed, tugging at Wenona’s arm before they sauntered away from the scent of burnt flesh. The putrid scent was enough to make one of them—Wenona—nauseous.

Lucerion lingered for a little longer, but he sighed, leading them away as he summoned his dragon. But he never needed to. 

Arrax left his hiding place amongst the clouds, emerging from the sea of white as he flew towards the land. Grey Ghost followed, wings flapping in what people would have assumed was white smoke, but it was clouds, or what Lucerion thought were clouds. 

“Rystas,” Lucerion smiled, patting Arrax’s scales. He hummed, mounting his dragon before pulling Aenar up. Deep brown eyes were soon to meet with pale lilac, Naeryn readying herself as Wenona clutched her waist for dear life. 

“Let's go home…”

Chapter Text

Bile rose in his throat as they rushed away from the triarchy base. He could feel Arrax getting tired; even he was tired. It was a long way to Braavos and he had to focus on escaping. It was what mattered in that moment as fear crept into his heart, telling Arrax to fly higher. Higher and higher until Arrax was growling in protest, steadying his flight and disobeying Lucerys' orders. He gritted his teeth when his dragon decided to keep to a specific height, but Lucerys couldn't blame him. They were tired. So horribly tired.  

He glanced back at Aenar. He sees the man — paler than ever — clinging on to him for dear life. Lucerys barely registers Aenar’s tightening grip and the soft whimpering noises he made as Arrax sped through the skies. Behind them, Grey Ghost can barely keep up with Arrax’s speed, struggling to shoot higher at the same pace as Arrax. Lucerys can see — and sometimes he wished he couldn't — how Naeryn desperately tries to keep Wenonah on the saddle. The situation was not in their favour, not at all and he was about to punch himself for it. 

“Naeryn!” He yelled through the wind. It's a difficult endeavour and his movements makes Aenar yelp, hugging tighter around Lucerys' waist. “Outside Qohor, parmont!”

They could manage with that kind of distance before proceeding to Braavos. They had to get Wenona on the ground first. Bringing her back would be unsafe in such a situation. She had to be brought back to Westeros to keep Rhaena safe, if not then Lucerys would need a suitable replacement for Wenona.

“Is that safe?!” Aenar yells through the wind, eyes closed. “They could have followed us!” 

The possibility wracked his nerves until he had to reassure himself that they only needed to drop of Wenona. Braavos was not her station and if she was gone for too long then the red keep would grow suspicious of a missing maid. He needed her to stay out with Rhaena as long as possible. Brachos was a useless waste of space with how easy it was to dispose of him. Wenona had shown finesse in managing to sneak into the Lys base on her own. She was the best for now. 

“Wenona has to return to Westeros as quickly as possible. We have people in Qohor who can deliver her back in a short time span.” Lucerys guided Arrax towards the lush forest of Qohor, careful not to get too close to the city. Getting caught by the city watch and reported back to Westeros was never ideal. “And the Targaryens will be distracted in keeping Rhaena safe. They'll either immediately return to King's Landing or stop by Pentos for rest. In the state Rhaena was in, they'd surely be considerate of her.” 

Arrax soon found a patch of land covered in trees. Far enough from the city of Qohor for the people to not notice two dragons but close enough for Wenona to enter the city in less than a day. 

It was a relief when they touched the ground, finally free from the harsh winds. Once their feet were on the grass, they heard Wenona empty her guts out behind a tree, making the three grimace. 

“Why couldn't we land on Selhorys?” Aenar muttered, momentarily wrenching his mask from his face to properly breathe. He sucked in deep breaths, before levelling Lucerys with a riddling gaze. 

“Because it's too close to Pentos. They'd have spotted us.”

Naeryn snarled, “And two dragons flying to Qohor is not?”

“It's closer to Braavos and I'd rather trust our Qohor spies rather than those bastards in Selhorys.” Lucerys snaps, glaring at Naeryn. “Who knows what they would do to Wenona. If we send her off to the wrong member of the guild then they could have sold her off to be a slave.”

He watched as Naeryn’s mouth snapped shut, glaring at him before she turned on her heel to check up on the poor assassin. This was no time to fight, not when the Targaryens were dangerously close. “Aenar, check out provisions. Once we send Wenona on her way, we ride back to Braavos immediately.” 

“Not waiting for nightfall?”

“Two light scaled dragons in the night sky? We'd stick out like sore thumbs.” Lucerys shook his head, walking towards Arrax and cooing at his dragon. He hushed Arrax, promising to offer him treats and a good night's rest once they returned. “We'll fly while the sun is still out. The clouds will hide us well.” 

It took quick minutes to check if everything was prepared for her another lengthy flight. Aenar had busied himself in checking their supplies and monitoring their surroundings. Naeryn was occupied with preparing Wenona for her travels and properly instructing the woman on what to do next. While Lucerys was busy making sure the two dragons were fed with what little meat they could have brought when they flew off to Lys to save Rhaena. It was difficult for the three of them, frightened that they would be caught. 

“Naeryn?”

Dutifully, Naeryn nodded and handed Wenona a bag of coins. “She's ready.”

“Good. Wenona,” the assassin's back straightened, looking at him with reverence and fear that he almost blanched. “Find Briar of the Rose House—she’s the owner of that damned brothel and works under us. Show her our symbol and tell her that you've been displaced from your station due to a mission. She'll send you back quickly.”

Lucerys took out a small letter from his pocket. In case of emergency. 

“Have her send this to the priestess.”

Wenona nodded, carefully accepting the letter and tucking it into her coat. “Thank you, Lords and Lady.” She hugged her supplies tightly, almost reverent of the way she holds the water and bag of money. “I shall guard Princess Rhaena with my life.”

Lucerys nodded approvingly, “See that you do. Now go.”

Wenona pulled up her hood, swiftly saluted to them before rushing through the forest with feather-light steps. They could barely hear her—a fear that deserved more praise than it should. 

“What if they catch us?” Naeryn asked, chewing on her lip as she caressed Grey Ghost’s scales. “What if they find out that we're Aeric, Rynvel, and Lucerion?” 

Lucerys shook his head, “That's why we have other identities in the guild. Outside of our masks, they think of us differently to who we are. Melisandre had us prepare for that situation, remember?” 

Aenar clicked his tongue, “So? The guild knows you as their revered master Lucerion Blackfyre… but they also know you as—”

Their hands were quick to reach for their weapons. 

A roar split through the air and a shadow cast over them. Eyes wide in horror, the fear bubbling within their souls as they see Caraxes and Vermax haunt the skies just above them. 

“Shit…”

Under the veil of trees, they hid as quickly as possible. 

“Sōvēs Arrax!” Lucerys commanded, followed by Naeryn who did the same for Grey Ghost. 

The two dragons shot up into the sky and they could see the other two dragons falter upon the sight of them. Lucerys cursed when he saw Vermax and Jace quickly given chase to Arrax. 

“Scatter.” Lucerys was quick to run in one direction. Naeryn climbed the trees, seeking refuge and stealth in them while Aenar followed Luke's example and strayed from them on ground. If they were captured, at least they wouldn't be caught together. 

Another road, the rumbling of the ground. Caraxes had landed.

Fear tore through his heart at the mere prospect of being captured by Daemon. In a situation where a forest was their maze, Aenar and Naeryn would be at a disadvantage. The silvery hair made sure they could be seen from a mile away while Lucerys could blend in just for long enough to flee if Daemon ever saw him. He had to remember his training, all the shit Jaeros put him through to make sure he was fully prepared for the day they finally found him. They had their contingency plans for any situation that involves Lucerys being shipped back to Westeros. 

He ran through the forest, never stopping until he found a tree big enough to hide him. He climbed, speeding himself up when he heard Daemon's voice in the distance. He prayed—to Arrax, to R’hllor, and the best of all, to Balerion. He hopes and hopes that his prayers are heard as he climbs until he sits upon a branch covered in leaves. 

Lucerys grasped his dagger tight, gritting his teeth. He didn't want to hurt Daemon—his dear kepa who had raised him as best as he could. His kepa who trained him how to fight, to survive. His kepa who taught him how to be proud of the dragon blood that ran through his veins. Lucerys never wanted to hurt him, not when it was Lucerys who wept for Daemon and stayed by his side until Balerion took his soul and brought it to the afterlife. 

But it had been Daemon who taught him to do everything and anything to survive. If he must aim his daggers at Daemon then so be it. It might not have been Valyrian steel that he used but it would be enough to harm Daemon to keep him away. 

His mask was the only thing that kept him steady. With it on, he felt himself melt into the identity they had forged for him. Lucerion and Lucerys were different — regardless if they were one and the same. Swallowing thickly, he kept himself steady, wondering if Aenar had successfully ran far enough from Daemon's grasp. With him still on the ground, he was vulnerable to Daemon's capability to hunt him. 

Where was Naeryn? Surely she had not been captured. She was the stealthiest of their bunch and was least likely to be caught. 

He needed to send a message to Melissansre immediately. No, wait—he had sent Wenona of with it already. Gods damned.

Daemon and Jace had followed them. It was a good thing they didn't go straight to Braavos, or else their headquarters would be revealed. It was already difficult operating with the Faceless Men in the city, they didn't need Targaryens to take interest. 

Steadying his breath, he shook his head and observed his surroundings, making sure Daemon was not close. 

“Lucerys!” 

His blood ran cold as he heard that familiar voice cleave through the air. 

“Trēsy come out.” Daemon said, his voice softer and yet loud enough for him to hear. “Come home, little tide. Whatever the gods have you doing, we will protect you. We will help you in your endeavors… Lucerys, come home.” 

His heart broke.

Gods did he truly want to go home. To weep in his mother's arms, to play with his siblings. But he couldn't. Not now. Not ever. 

He had to live. They had to live. 

Finally they had been united upon his disappearance. How could he disrupt the new life they created? How? He couldn't simply go back and abandon everything he's worked for. He couldn't leave Equinox, he couldn't leave Jaeros, Aenar, Naeryn, and Saera. He couldn't abandon Melisandre after everything she's done for him. He would be a fool if he did. He'd kill himself before that. 

“Lucerys, come out.” Daemon said, his voice getting closer and closer. “I know you, my son. You are kind, you are caring. No matter how many years pass, I know that you will always protect your family, your companions. So come out, little Luke.”

His body went rigid, sucking in a deep breath when he found Daemon right in his sights—

“Come out, my son.”

—and Aenar was trapped in Daemon's hold, Dark sister so close to him. 

When the two dragons had shot up from the forest and into the sky, Daemon's first instinct was to follow. And so was Jacaerys’ apparently. But unlike Jacaerys, he had noticed that there were no riders upon the saddles of those dragons, leading him to land in the forest of Qohor. 

When he felt the ground, there was no one in sight but he could feel it in his bones as he began to hunt. The faintest flash of white scales had caught their attention back in Lys and he was quick to coax Rhaenys and Baela to Pentos without alerting Rhaena. Knowing his daughter, she'd try to stop them if they even thought of following the only hot trail they had. It was simple, a small lie of patrolling to ensure that there were no more triarchy bastards left to snatch away his child. 

Finding one of them hadn't been easy. The little shit was a slippery thing, swerving and making sharp turns that almost made Daemon slam into a tree. The short silver hair stop that boy's head was obvious amongst the brow and green foliage. When he had cornered the unknown Valyrian child, the demonic bastard actually tried to jump into the river. 

“Fuck—” Daemon growled, grabbing the boy by the scruff of his shirt, earning him a loud yell. Without a second thought, he grabbed Dark Sister—still sheathed—and slammed its hilt on the back of the boy's head. The boy went limp in seconds, groaning loudly as Daemon began to drag him around the forest, calling out to Lucerys. 

Lucerys—no matter how much he's changed—cared for his family. He wouldn't have returned to Westeros, risking himself, for nothing. It wasn't a coincidence that Lucerys had been there for Rhaena’s trial, nor was it a mistake for him to stop by Viserys and Aegon's. He had left but Lucerys sure as hell wasn't going to let his family get hurt. 

There was a sound shooting through the air as he moved just in time to dodge an arrow aimed to his hand—the same one that kept the boy restrained. 

A dull thud sounded through the forest and in his moments of distraction, he almost missed the figure lunging towards them. On instinct, Daemon raised Dark Sister above his head, ready to chop off an arm. He brought the blade down, missing as his attacker's body ducked just in time. 

“Let him go.” 

Daemon froze. He knew that voice, even as it grew deeper over the years. His attacker wore a mask, yet his hood had fallen for him to see dark curls on top of his head. Daemon watched, intrigued as his assailant readied to unsheath his own blade. 

“Lucerys.” He whispered but there is now reply. 

He sucked in a deep breath, glancing around him. That arrow hadn't come from the direction Lucerys—and he's sure it's Lucerys—had come from. There was another one amongst them, the other Valyrian child Aemond and Jace had mentioned. 

“Tresy,” he cooed and he saw the way Lucerys tightened his grip around his sword. Daemon can't help but be impressed with how perfect his posture was, how wonderful he handled himself. Whoever trained Luke, he had to give Aegon to them to achieve this kind of discipline in handling a sword. “I know it's you, little Luke. You can't hide from me.”

“Let him go.”

Daemon tightened his hold. The boy in his arms babbled, delirium taking him and Lucerys noticed quickly. His body went rigid, body shifting to a more threatening stance. The little dragon was willing to fight but would he if Daemon still had his boy in his arms?

The answer was another arrow being fired at him. The steel lodged itself on Daemon's shoulder, causing him to yell out in pain. Lucerys lunged forward again, this time, ready to strike. His breath hitched, dropping the boy who groaned loudly when he hit the ground. Dark sister met with another steel, the noise it made was familiar as metal scraped against metal. He heard another thud, glancing just in time to see a hooded and masked figure quickly pick up the boy he had taken hostage just moments ago. 

They did so quietly and in silence that they managed to hide in the shadows of the forest in mere minutes. 

His concentration broke and he was pushed back—the clattering of blades loud enough to break him out of his stupor. He could see the way Lucerys shifted yet again. The little shit was going to make a run for it. 

“You're coming home. I'll make sure of it.” Daemon declared, swinging Dark Sister. 

Lucerys had been trained. His body showed it and any sort of attack would be met with a pary—enough time for Daemon to snatch up the boy. 

“Fuck—” he heard from the boy and oh did Rhaenyra's sweet boy have a vulgar mouth. Daemon couldn't help but grin, twirling his blade and slashing it through the air, seeing how much weight Lucerys could take as he pushed forward. 

Lucerys had grown stronger; Daemon felt it as he pushed back. 

“You've grown,” Daemon murmured—fond. He was fond as Lucerys quite literally swung his blade, aiming it directly on Daemon's side. 

Their swords hit over and over again until Daemon felt like he was going to go deaf from the noise the clashing made. They were left panting and only then did he notice that Lucerys' blade wasn't being chipped away like any other blade against Valyrian steel. He recalled the dagger Aemond had, Lucerys' Bantāzma. A Valyrian steel dagger. Of course the boy has a sword made out of one. Where he's procured himself enough steel to make weapons out of it, Daemon genuinely wondered. 

Another arrow comes flying from the darkness of the forest, grazing his ear. That was enough time for Lucerys to make a run for it, abandoning the fight. Like a coward—a strategic retreat was Daemon's preferred description of the matter. 

“Caraxes, māzīs!” 

The dragon roared through the forest, hurrying to Daemon's side. There was no point in chasing after them in the woods when they were clearly too skilled for it. He couldn't burn away a forest but he could erect some trees from ground with wind. Mounting Caraxes, he ordered the dragon to flap his wings and he hears a loud yell. 

He spies three figures clinging to a tree for dear life. Their hoods were pushed down from the wind and he could see dark hair, accompanied by two heads of silver. 

Another roar cuts through the air. He looked up to find Vermax having returned, making Daemon click his tongue. “Jacaerys! Land and grab them!” He yelled, watching as Jace looks at the forest in confusion. When his eyes found Lucerys, he was landing in mere seconds and pushing through the wind. 

Caraxes ceased his onslaught of wind and Daemon watched Jacaerys try to wrangle up the three. Unfortunately for him, Lucerys was already grabbing the Valyrian boy while the other one—a girl he noticed—was aiming her arrows at Jace. One hit him on the shoulder and they continued their escape, albeit a tad bit slower now from what he saw. With Vermax on one side and Caraxes on the other, they were thoroughly trapped between two dragons. 

“Give it up, tresy.” Daemon growled, patience thinning as he tugged on the reins as Caraxes breathed our hot air against the three. They took steps back before Vermax growled at them. “You have nowhere else to run, little dragon.”

Lucerys flinched. 

“You can't make me go back.” He finally spoke, his voice muffled through the mask. “You can't. The gods will not accept this!”

“The gods lead you to us.” Jace hissed, but there was nothing but worry in his eyes as he slowly approached Lucerys. He stopped in his tracks when a crossbow was pointed at his face. The girl and Lucerys stand close to one another, as the boy Daemon took hostage was being carried on Lucerys back. 

“They lied! They fucking lied to you!” 

“And how do you know that?” Jace yelled back, “How do you know it was us who were deceived and not you?” 

He was panicking. 

Daemon tugged on the reins again, hushing Caraxes who growled at the loud voices. He dismounted his dragon and the reaction was instant as the crossbow was suddenly aimed at him instead. 

“You leave us no choice, little dragon.” Daemon sighed, “Ūjot usōven.” He whispered. 

A second later, Daemon was slamming a sheathed Dark Sister against Lucerys' chin. Jacaerys hit the girl with his palm, knocking her out immediately. 

“Iksis ziry drējī zirȳla? qilōni issi se riñar lēda zirȳla?” Is it truly him? Who are the children with him?

The darkness of the room was horrid. It wasn't simple darkness. Everything was black even as his eyes began to start opening. That voice sounded so horribly familiar. Painfully familiar. 

“Kessa, ziry iksos zirȳla.  Sesīr lo ziry vestragon different.  Ziry's sepār grown, Rhaenys.” Yes, it's him. Even if he seems different. He's just grown, Rhaenys. 

Fuck, Rhaenys was here?

He gritted his teeth, making sure not to make too much noise. Lucerys felt the way his surroundings swayed, sucking in a deep breath. Where was he? He moved just enough to try and get a feel of his surroundings, going stiff when he hit a body. From the weight of it, it was Aenar. 

“Skoro syt wouldn't Rhaena ivestragon īlva?” Another voice. Baela? Was that Baela?

“I don't know.” 

Jace. Lucerys recognized his brother's voice and swallowed long enough. His hands were tied to his back; he was blindfolded; there cloth covering his mouth; he was being held down like a fucking hostage. His heart was beating against his chest, as if it was trying to rip out his ribcage. 

“The little dragon is awake.” 

The blindfold was removed from his eyes and he saw—to his horror—his family. 

Jace smiled ever so sadly, “Hello, valonqar… don't worry. We'll protect you from the gods, I swear.”

How were they supposed to protect him from the gods if the gods ruining his life were the ones supporting them?