Chapter Text
Three years a.d. (after dinner)
Lucerys sighs, inspecting Arrax’s saddle. He feels uneasy having to come back to King’s Landing with all his family. He remembers the last time he went, his grandfather asking for him when Rhaenyra was due to go to present Visenya. Rumours of Lucerys’ illness had reached the Red Keep, and the king wanted to see if he was well with his own eyes. It was fine, because it had been only him, his mother and little sister and only for a couple of days. His stepfather and siblings had stayed.
But now everyone had been summoned for celebrations. King Viserys I Targaryen’s sixtieth name day. It would be a grand event, with feasts, balls, tourneys, and a royal hunt, all lavish to show the crown’s power and celebrate times of peace. He wanted his entire family there, maybe one last time before he finally gets his rest, he had said.
This means that Lucerys had to go, and so did everyone else, even the twins, not yet past their first name day. A whole fortnight away from Dragonstone meant that he would need to bring his daughter, and this is the reason he is trembling as he confirms the saddle is secure. He never used to do an inspection that thoroughly, but now he is carrying precious cargo. He looks around, and his entire family is getting ready with their dragons. Visenya is giggling in Jace’s lap as he prepares Vermax for them, and Meraxes will follow. Daemon and Mother are each taking a twin. Their eggs have come from a recently laid clutch, and while there have been a few moon turns since they were placed in the cradles, his stepfather believes that Daella and Alyssa will both have their hatchlings soon. Aegon has started mounting Stormcloud recently, but King’s Landing is too far, and the young dragon can only fly a few feet high carrying his brother, so both he and Viserys will join their parents as well.
Morning is also very small, only the size of a dog. Rhaena was invited to ride with her grandmother on Meleys, but she would take the ship to accompany Grandfather. She had gotten the third egg found by her father around the time Rhaenyra was pregnant with Visenya, as Viserys had told them he did not need another. He has since told them all he is not to hatch a dragon, but instead, to claim an older one. He had not tried as of yet, but Luke often sees him watching the wild dragons as they take flight around the island.
He feels a hand on his shoulder. “Are you ready, sweet boy?” His mother asks, her eyes filled with worry and little Alyssa, strapped to her chest, babbles as she sees her older brother. Luke smiles at her, caresses her hair.
“I need to be, don’t I?” He forces a smile, and she sighs, eyes closing as she smiles back, also a little forced, before gazing back at him with her huge lilac eyes.
“Nothing will happen. I will not let it happen; do you hear me?” She promises, and Luke believes her, but still, he feels nervous.
A bit of it melts when he hears a tiny giggle and sees his precious girl let go of her uncle Joffrey’s hand and run to him, her teal dress making her eyes pop in a dark blue that day. Her dark blond waves fly as she moves, the silver streak catching as much attention as always. He goes down to one knee and groans when she jumps on him with full force. “Kepa!”
“Oh, my beautiful girl. Are you ready to fly with kepa and Arrax today?”
The girl nods at him, her violet eyes huge and wide as she takes in Arrax, her second favourite dragon, she promises. “Kessa, kepa.”
Luke has grown a bit taller in the last few years, but not much. He guesses his body has gone through enough changes thanks to his magical dragon blood. Arrax helps by diving down as Luke places his daughter on the saddle and gets up himself. He makes sure she is well strapped to him, even though he will cage her with his arms during their flight. As he commands his dragon to take to the skies, he watches as his family does the same.
Choosing to warn Viserys that they are to arrive on dragonback is a show of power. His mother has made a lot of those in the last few years; they have a lot to lose, and she is not about to bow to anyone. She is to be Queen.
As they fly over King’s Landing, they see what it looks like the smallfolk stopping to watch. It is a pretty sight, all those dragons in the skies. Seven of them, right there, and they all circle the towers of the castle. He knows that the greens are there waiting for them; Rhaenyra makes sure of it. With grandsire now more present and with his new Hand, Lord Beesbury. It had been a demand from his heir that they were to be received as it partakes their station. Otto Hightower had been demoted, which had been one of the requests Rhaenyra and Daemon insisted on after the whole petition debacle.
As they settle their dragons inside the Dragonpit and go for the carriages, Lucerys starts to get nervous again. Flying always calmed him. Inside, his daughter points around the new things she finds interesting, but as soon as they see the Red Keep, she waves and smiles, calling it pretty in her accented common, one of the only words she bothers with in her second language.
They are getting ready to exit, but Lucerys can see the estranged side of his family already welcoming his parents with fake smiles. “You need to be ready, Lucerys.”
He looks at his grandmother. She will be the last to exit, her great-granddaughter in her arms. He nods and goes for the steps. The little girl barely pays attention to him, as she is pointing out things to Rhaenys and babbling in her quick but bumpy High Valyrian.
The minute he is out and walking towards his family, he can feel his uncle’s burning gaze and sure enough, his eye is fixed on him. Viserys seems delighted to see him. “Thank you for the invitation, grandsire. We are very happy to be able to celebrate such a milestone.”
“Quite the brood you have there, sister.” Aegon mocks. Lucerys scoffs and smiles at his aunt, who has a twin in each hand and Maelor holding his sister’s. “What is it? Ten kids?”
Otto seems proud. Of course, he would enjoy the slight.
It is in that moment that a little girl comes pulling Rhaenys out of the carriage, still babbling half-nonsensical words while his grandmother smiles and pretends to understand it all. They all look confused. “Who is that? I thought you only had one set of twins. Is she Visenya’s double? Looks like the runt.”
More questioning is stopped once his daughter arrives by his side and raises her little arms, silently asking to be picked up, and he chuckles, grabbing her. He stares at Aegon, eyes feral, and he is a beast protecting his child. “She is mine, uncle.”
The surprise was expected. Following the initial shock, both Aegon and Otto are almost grinning. Helaena is the only one who appears to be smiling for an honourable reason. Alicent seems offended, already jumping to her own conclusions, and Aemond just continues his stare, but his features seem harsher now. Viserys gasps, delighted.
“A great-grandchild, at last. I never thought I would live to see it. A beautiful baby girl. What is her name, my boy?”
“Lyra Velaryon.” They all hear the queen’s scoffing, and his grandmother glares at her as she comes close and smiles at his little girl. “After my parents.”
“A wonderful new addition to House Velaryon. Lord Corlys must be thrilled.” The rest of them, save for Helaena, make no effort to disguise their amusement. Luke wants to burn them all for already judging his daughter. If only they knew, especially the proud consort who seems to only condemn others.
It is Rhaenys, the grandmother who grew close to him in these last years, that speaks next. “He is delighted with our dear girl. Already a little fish in the sea, loves to sail with us, taking to the tides as a true Velaryon, but is to be a dragonrider like a true Targaryen. Her cradle egg hatched only a couple of moons after her birth. She has the most beautiful she-dragon.”
Lyra recognises the word dragon, no matter what language is used. She giggles, clapping her little hands. “Nimue! Nimue!” Nimue was her young dragon, a little small for being two. She was a different one, looking more like a serpent than even Caraxes, who was believed to be her sire. Her scales were a beautiful gradient of turquoise, ice blue and lilac, almost making one believe she would breathe ice instead of fire. Grandfather often jokes that she was a dragon meant for the seas.
“The dragons are prospering, brother. Meraxes the second grows strong, bonding with Visenya, and the girls’ eggs are set to hatch soon enough. Our little Viserys has plans of his own that he keeps from us for now, and Rhaena has Morning now.”
“Who is the mother?” Alicent finally asks. Luke had been waiting for this. Viserys looks back at her, frowning. “What, husband? The boy had been here a while ago and never mentioned a daughter. We need to protect our family.” Lucerys wants to laugh; now she is worried about them as family?
Rhaenyra steps forward. “My good-daughter sadly passed away during the labour, Your Grace. It is a hard memory for all of us; she was a dear girl. As for what your question insinuates, she was married to Lucerys at Dragonstone, by me, in a ceremony following Valyrian customs, as I did with Daemon. She is legitimate and of the blood of the future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and the future Lord of the Tides. Her mother was from Driftmark. As you can see, she had a mix of Valyrian features. Most of it from my mother, I would say.”
“Let me say hello to my first great-grandchild.” The king asks, and Luke nods and comes closer, already whispering to his daughter.
Lyra is a little spitfire, and she loves to engage with her favourite people. “Little dragon, come say hi to grandmother’s father. He is the king, love.” She nods, but her hand is pulling a few strands of her hair to cover a bit of her face already. “Do not be shy, sweet girl.”
Viserys almost freezes when he sees her up close, the girl letting go of her dark blond hair, shining gold under the sunlight. She is a copy of his Rhaenyra, and there is so much of Aemma in her, just like in Lucerys. Her ivory cheeks are painted with light freckles, and her doe eyes sparkle under thick, golden lashes, shining between a dark blue with violet hues, reminding him of his late wife and his grandmother, Queen Alysanne.
His heart hurts with the resemblance. “Say hello, sweetheart.”
“Rytsas, grandfather.” She whispers, still a little shy, but she looks around to see all her favourite people smiling at her. “Lyra iksan.”
“Viserys iksan, ñuha dōna riña.” This makes his daughter gasp and giggle, her smile reaching her eyes as it often does, and she is as bright as the sun.
“Hae kepus!” She seems delighted, pointing at one of her favourite people in the world, her uncle Viserys, who often broods, preferring the quiet rather than the messes the rest of the young children are fond of, but he smiles at his niece.
This surprises his grandsire, and Luke laughs. “Yes, sweetheart, he has the same name as your kepus.”
“We might need to move this to the throne room, my king,” Rhaenyra suggests. “Where we can make the appropriate introduction of both Lyra and the twins.”
As the whole family moves inside the walls of the Red Keep towards the room that still gives Lucerys a few nightmares, he still feels uneasy, moving carefully, Lyra hugged close to his chest. As they settle inside, Lyra points out the pretty paintings and other new things, he notices that Aemond still studies them closely.
That is his biggest fear. That somehow his uncle will know just by looking at her. His memories go to the hectic dinner and what followed, hugs, the result of it a little tighter. Especially when Aemond comes close to him.
“How old is she, nephew? Two, a little more? Did her mother know you were whoring around with your family members around the time she went to carry your child? Or was she just like you and your mother? You did cheat on your beloved betrothed with her… and me, did you not?” He whispers. Luke’s blood boils. “A rushed wedding for a child, I bet. I expected more from you, nephew. To be a little smarter than my sister.”
He snorts, ready to rage at his uncle, with words at least, when Lyra raises her little hand, fingers trailing at Aemond’s loose silver strands. “You pretty hair!” Both men freeze, and Lyra runs her fingers through her own hair; her waves are down, but two little braids around her head meet at the back. She grabs her silver streak and shows Aemond, giggling. “Same hair!”
His uncle surprises him when he chuckles. “That is true, kid.”
Luke clears his throat. “Uh, her common is not the greatest. She understands a few basic things, but she prefers High Valyrian. Teaching the kids first and then introducing common has proven to be good. Joffrey, Aegon, Viserys and Visenya are very good with it. The boys are already fluent in both. Visenya’s common is a bit better than Lyra’s.”
Lyra hears her name and shouts. “Braids!”
That makes Lucerys groan. “Ugh, she is saying you should braid your hair. She loves braids. Mother has all of us training them; she is also obsessed. Visenya and Lyra love them, all kinds.”
Aemond nods and looks back at Luke’s baby daughter. “Maybe later, kid.” He tells her and then leaves, not before looking at them once more. Luke lets out another groan, and he hugs his sweet babe, kissing her and whispering against her hair.
“This better work out well, my little dragon.”