Chapter Text
Lucerys Velaryon urged Arrax higher, the merciless rain sliced over his face, allowing him just enough reprieve to clear his vision before its clumpy drops took reign over his lashes again. Wind howled across the dragon’s wings, snapping and whipping against it. For a reason unknown, it seemed as though the sky itself would drag him back to Storm’s End no matter where he flew, or in the bottomless ocean beneath, though death scarcely ever needed reasons. Unease seeped into his bones, he felt himself quiver, Borros had asked of him to leave, not pleased with the idea of diplomacy shattering within his roof. Aemond would remain there till nightfall, he had little to be afraid of. Below, the black sea churned violently, swallowing lightning in its ever present depth. His hands shook, flexing his fingers against the saddle, lucerys tried easing the numbness and held it more firmly.
He should have bought someone along.
Thunder cracked behind him.
no no no
Not thunder. The entirety of Westeros would identify that ominous growl, awake or deep in their slumber. A shadow moved inside the clouds, vast and all consuming. Darkness spread and he struggled to get sight of anything that wasn’t entirely covered in it.
Soon enough Vhagar soared through the tempest. Aemond had instructed her to “frighten him”. An eye for an eye had not been permitted, a little douse of fear was the least he deserved, Lucerys had left him crippled after all. It was only fitting.
He imagined soaring through the sky and Vhagar taking him apart, splitting his bones to pieces, imagined hearing the sound of it, would he have to strain himself to hear it? or would it be so viscous it’d be difficult not? He imagined landing in dragonstone with sweet young lucerys’ flesh burnt and rotting, pierced through her teeth. Now that would be hoping he didn’t tumble down into the depths below, body deteriorating, creatures eating away at him, never to be found.
“not to close” he mumbled, lest it got too dangerous, Aemond wished him dead, but not right now, it would be too much trouble, he scoffed. They were still seeking alliances, a premature killing would force war. Tarnish their reputation.
What Aemond had not known was fear had its own persistent pulse. Hunger, once spoken into existence, could rarely ever be sedated but Vhagar with her massive scales would see through that it was. The dragon executed a deep downstroke with its wings and thurst forward.
A gust of wind blew towards Lucerys, Arrax roared, a shrill, desperate sound reminiscent of a newborn dragon. In an attempt to stabilize him, Lucerys tugged at the reins, his voice cracking. "Serve, Arrax, Fly, Faster, Faster!" but Vhagar had already surged, poised for destruction. Arrax veered, avoiding the attack just in time. Lucerys gripped the saddle tightly, his heart thumping in his ribs. Aemond's laughter reverberated across the wind. Violet eyes ablaze with excitement, his laughter ceased as soon as it came, as though he too, seemed to sense the restless rage of the creature he sat atop. "That's sufficient enough, that’s enough!" He commanded.
Vhagar too near and prepared to attack, moved again. Young and panicked, Arrax twisted. fear for his life, fear for his rider. Desperate he spewed a burst of flame into the storm. It hit Vhagar's face like an unseen pinch, unseen it was but oh it flared, it sparked. Vhagar let out a furious cry. “No!” Aemond shouted, aware of the situation accelerating. “Pales!”, He leaned his weight heavily to the right, too late, Vhagar was after all never one to be tamed.
Jaws wide open, Vhagar rushed to the left with devastating speed. Lucerys had turned his head just in time to see it. The jagged abyss of teeth descending through flame and water. For a heartbeat, everything stilled. Then Vhagar sealed her jaw.
Lucerys had contemplated death many times before. When it came to him at last, who would he think of? would it take him slowly? The notion of it had rendered him unable to sleep on occasions more than once, for fear it would welcome him defenseless, and he’d never wake up again. So he’d spent nights clinging to his brothers in their chambers. Sleep always came easy in their arms, maybe death would come just as easy.
But death did not come easy to him, it did not wrap its vicious arms around him and whisper his worldly worries away. It came gnashing and sudden.
In a shower of blood and broken wings, Lucerys and Arrax had perished. Their fragments, all but plummeted into the black sea below like shattered dreams.
In Shipbreaker Bay, Lucerys Velaryon, Heir of Driftmark and fourth-in-line for the Iron Throne. Son to Rhaenyra Targaryen and Laenor Velaryon. Brother to his full blood brothers, Jacaerys, Aerion and Joffrey Velaryon, and to his half brothers, Aegon and Viserys Targaryen had fallen to his death.
With rain streaming down and sapphire eyes wide with visions of his nephews startled eyes as he fell, Aemond sat still atop Vhagar. Lucerys Velaryon's last remnants were engulfed by the storm.
In Dragonstone, womb bleeding, Rhaenyra Targaryen startled awake, blood seeping into the greedy porous seams, vanishing beneath the floor.