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Prince Laenor of House Velaryon sat in a plush velvet chair within his wife's small study, sipping sour Arbor Gold from a golden chalice in silence as he watched Crown Princess Rhaenyra of House Targaryen stare out the window of her study. The light highlighted the features of her youth, reminding him of the heavy burden that had been placed upon his shoulders and was now shared between them. She was a little girl, still, with the weight of a Kingdom upon her shoulders and yet she stood with the strength of a dragon against the lit towers aiming to bring her crashing down.
"I'm sorry," Laenor murmured, tearing his wife from her thoughts. "If only the Gods had not made like this. If only they had made me like my father or Prince Daemon then maybe–"
"Stay your tongue!" Rhaenyra ordered, sharply. She whirled around, pale grey skirts swirling along her legs as she stalked towards him. "Had the Gods not made you this way then I would never have agreed to this marriage, no matter that my inheritance would be stripped away. I agreed to take you as my husband because I can trust you within this nest of vipers my home has become. You are my husband and my future King Consort, the man who shall aid my rule and support me."
Laenor gave a bitter, self-deprecating laugh, "I am the husband that cannot give his wife heirs. The man that cannot see a woman for the beauty she is, and feels no lust for the pleasures others speak of."
"We shall figure something out. It will just take time."
"What if you took a paramour? He could give you children that I could claim as mine. They would be mine in name and that is all that matters."
"And if they resembled any but me? Or you? They would be called bastards even if they were an exact copy of Rodrick Arryn or Jocelyn Baratheon as long as they did not have the Valyrian coloring. The Queen and her supporters would make our lives a living hell if she even had an inkling that they were bastards. Even now, she seeks to undermine me."
"I thought the wedding was her only move," Laenor stated, sitting up. Worry shone in his grey-purple eyes. They might not be in love as other matches were but they were partners.
"No. Every day she gathers the Ladies of the Keep for tea and speaks behind my back, spreading rumors of my virtue, of your taste in men, of how I am a heathen whore unfit to be the Heir to the Iron Throne," Rhaenyra sneered, sitting down in the weirwood chair behind her desk. A present from Lady Jeyne Arryn and Lady Amanda Arryn for her wedding.
"She dares speak ill of the Crown Princess? And none stop her or bring her words to the King or you, yourself?"
"Why would they? Each of them come from the Reach or Westerlands, supporters of her son as Heir and future King."
"Then we must dispel the rumors," Laenor stated, reaching into his doublet. He pulled out a letter, setting it on the desk between them. "My dear Laena has sent us a letter. She reminds me of the tales my father used to tell us before bed. Of Sea Serpents, Giants, Gods . . . and Demigods."
"Demigods?" Rhaenyra whispered, remembering the tales Daemon had once told her. "Children of both God and Man. What do those tales have to do with our problems?"
"For years we have hid how we worship the Fourteen Flames, let those of the Seven deem our culture as heathenistic and disrespectful. I believe she means for us to seek out our true Gods and ask for their help."
"They are Gods, Laenor. What could we possibly give them in return for three children?"
"Anything they wish. Rhaenyra if you wish to be Queen this might be our only option. We need trueborn heirs and who better than the Gods that shaped us and gave us dragons?"
"The same Gods who allowed hundreds of thousands of people be wiped by the Doom. The ones who allow us to be ridiculed and shamed even as Kings, Queens, and Heirs of Valyrian Houses. The only ones left of Old Valyria, might I add," Rhaenyra snapped, glaring.
Laenor did not let her flames deter him. "And what other option do we have? Let Prince Aegon be named Heir because you have no children to rule after you?"
Rhaenyra snarled, teeth baring as Syrax sang within her soul, black teeth bared as flamed gathered in her chest. "Watch yourself husband. I could take that as treason."
"But I speak the truth," Laenor stated, Seasmoke humming in the back of his mind, tail swishing across the dusty ground of his cave. "You said we would need trueborn children and I have given you a suggestion. It is either this, your give birth to bastards after taking a paranour, or remain childless and have your titles taken. Take your pick, wife."
Charged silence fell within the study as the two dragons stared each other down. Eventually, Rhaenyra acquiesced.
"Fine. In two days time we travel to Dragonstone. We will call it a honeymoon of sorts, as if we seek alone time for . . . things. The Temple of the Fourteen will hear our prayers and we shall see if the Gods will answer."
"Then it is decided."
—Temple of the Fourteen—
The Temple of the Fourteen was almost hidden behind Castle Dragonstone, even with how large it was. The rotunda had 14 stained glass windows, each displaying the symbol of one of the 14 Gods or Godesses sitting above the corrosponding statue. Made entirely out of black dragonglass with runes carved in and filled with Valyrian steel, the Temple was truly of Valyrian make and ancestry.
Over the two days planning their week long trip to the Isle of Dragonstone, they had argued over which statue to pray too, eventually agreeing upon the Goddess Meleys. She ruled over fertility, love, sexuality, mothers, and childbirth, so they had come to the realization that she would be a better fit than Arrax or Aegerax.
"It's beautiful," Laenor murmured, High Valyrian rolling of his tongue with an Essosi lilt that Lord Corlys and his sister both had. It brought a heat to Rhaenyra whenever she heard it even if she preffered how it sounded when Daemon spoke.
"It is." Rhaenyra and Laenor came to a stop before the white dragonglass statue of Meleys. Stood in a patch of dirt, a large myrtle tree had grown alongside her, manipulated to lean over her seemingly sheltering the Goddess who wore a floor length dress with long slits up the side leaving her most of her legs and bare feet exposed.
Held in her left hand was a mirror, as pearls draped across the exposed cut of her shoulders while long sleeves fell around her forearms. Perched upon her shoulder was a dove while a peacock stood at her side, long beautifull feathers carved and painted in detail.
"Do you remember the prayer?" Laenor asked as they both stared up into the gentle features carved into the statue.
"I have not had the time to forget it," Rhaenyra murmured dryly, unsure of if she should speak normally. Together they kneeled, bowing before the Goddess' statue.
"O' Meleys, O' Queen of the Gods, Goddess of Love, Goddess of Fertility, Goddess of Motherhood, Goddess of Childbirth, we seek your aid. As Heir to the Iron Throne and Heir to Driftmark, we ask you to provide us with heirs and a spare. To allow us to further our bloodlines, O' Queen of the Gods. Name a price and we shall pay it for three children borne of our blood."
The pyre that stood to her right suddenly lit with pale pink-whire fire, startling both of them. So focused they were, neither saw the statue move until she spoke, voice soft but firm, loving and kind.
"Greetings, Princess Rhaenyra, Chosen Heir. Greetings, Prince Laenor, Chosen Guardian. I have been awaiting your call for many moons."
Neither could find it within themselves to speak, staring at the talking statue with awe and fear in equal parts.
"Be not afraid. Your call has been anticipated and awaited eagerly." Her soft look melted to something sharp and protective. "The Promised Heir shall come from your blood, Rhaenyra, but due to your father's folly, in one line of fate they fall and the world is taken in the Long Night. No one is left, no dragons, no people, no wildlings. Only wights. To make sure this never comes to pass We, the Fourteen Flames, the Seven-Who-Are-One, and the Elder Gods have decided to intervene. We have decided to interfere with fate itself to make sure our favored survive and fight back the Long Night."
"Us? But my father said– when he told me of the prophecy . . ."
"Tessarion gave the prophecy to Aegon in the hopes that he would unite Westeros to prepare them for the Long Night. But after making them kneel he in turn kneeled for the Seven-Who-Are-One who have no control over any family of Valyrian Blood. We are not the only the ones that have been disrespected or forgotten.
"The supposed followers of the Seven have perverted and twisted the words of the Seven-Who-Are-One to fit their agendas, destroying the faith that once was. The Elder Gods are slowly being forgotten as we are, and with fewer and fewer worshipping us, we are dying."
"Dying?" Laenor asked, horrified. Every story ever told spoke of how a God could not be killed.
"Not in the way you understand but yes. Magic is being forcibly taken from your world, one of the few weapons that would secure your future. But we believe we have a way for this world to survive. Do you accept the responsibility, Rhaenyra Targaryen, Laenor Velaryon?"
They both hesitated, but looking upon her face, one that looked similar to Aemma's in Rhaenyra's eyes and one that looked sinilar to Rhaenys' for Laenor and they made their decision.
"We accept this responsibility, My Queen."
She smiled softly.
"From us you will be given 14 children, born of each of us with our favor to save the Targaryen, Velaryon, Celtigar, and Stark lines. The Seven-Who-Are-One and the Elder Gods have decided that their gifts will be given in secret to aid you. But I have another gift to offer you." Meleys' smile grew wider. "Would you like to hear the names of your children and who they are the child of?"
"Yes! Please, My Queen," Rhaenyra added, blushing fiercly at the outburst. While afraid to have so many children, a part of her was curious to know her future.
"The First. Son of Arrax, King of the Gods, Jacaerys Targaryen."
"The Second. Daughter of Tyraxes, Goddess of Peace. Alyssa Velaryon."
"The Third. Son of Caraxes, God of the Seas. Lucerys Velaryon."
"The Fourth. Son of Vhagar, Goddess of War. Maegor Velaryon."
"The Fifth. Daughter of Vermax, God of Travel. Visenya Velaryon."
"The Sixth. Son of Aegerax, God of Creation. Aerion Velaryon."
"The Seventh. Daughter of Tessarion, Goddess of Dreams. Daenys Velaryon."
"The Eighth. Daughter of myself, Goddess of Love. Aemma Velaryon."
"The Ninth. Son of Syrax, Goddess of Chaos. Saeryn Velaryon."
"The Tenth. Daughter of Meraxes, Goddess of the Sky. Rhaella Velaryon."
"The Eleventh. Son of Gaelithox, God of the Sun. Aegon Velaryon."
"The Twelfth. Son of Vermithor, God of Smiths. Aemon Velaryon."
"The Thirteenth. Daughter of Shrykos, Goddess of Beginnings. Valaena Velaryon."
"The Fourteenth. Son of Balerion, God of the Underworld. Baelon Velaryon."
"Tonight Tessarion shall visit you to give you the instructions on how to allow us to give you children. Be ready. Good luck."
The statue straightened back into her precious position and fell still, allowing complete silence to fall within the Temple.
"Well," Laenor began, mumbling. "I believe we should head to the Keep, should we not? A drink or two might help."
"I agree." With that the two retreated back to the castle to talk about what had just happened, and drink enough wine to help settle their nerves before Tessarion came to visit.
Twenty and five years ago, Princess Rhaenyra was removed from the line of succession after King Viserys Targaryen and Queen Alicent Hightower learned of her marriage, or marriages. Under the guiding flame of the Fourteen and the Branches of the Godwood, Rhaenyra had taken three husbands: Lord Rickon Stark of the North, Ser Laenor Velaryon, Heir to Driftmark, and Prince Daemon Targaryen, her Uncle.
It was Ser Otto, Lord Hand, who encouraged the King to remove her because of her unlawful wedding.
Having learned of her impending removal as Heiress, Rhaenyra created a contract with the help of Lyonel Strong, the Master of Law.
The First Clause.
Dragonstone, her ancestral home, and the Stepstones, Prince Daemons second gift for winning the war, were hers and her husbands alone and would be passed down through her line alone.
The Second Clause.
Anything belonging to the late Queen Aemma would be given to Princess Rhaenyra to be passed down through her line alone. This included all of her possessions, jewelry, dresses, and her crowns.
The Third Clause.
Anything of Valyrian Ancestry, whether living or not, belonged to Rhaenyra to pass down as she pleased.
The Fourth Clause.
The Dragons woud be removed from the Dragonpit and guided to the Dragonmont. If any Targaryen henceforth wished to claim a dragon they would have to gain permission from Princess Rhaenyra and her husbands.
As a gift for Aegons second nameday Rhaenyra left him and her younger sister, Halaena eggs.
The Fifth Clause.
Daemons Gold Cloaks would be allowed to follow to protect Dragonstone as they had Kings Landing.
The contract was shown to King Viserys privately, so none of his counsel was able to refute it. He agreed, signing the contract in blood before copies were sent out to each kingdom and member of the Counsel.
The morning after King Viserys signed the contract his entire family left. The Velaryons returned to Driftmark, and Rhaenyra and her husbands to Dragonstone where no word was heard for twenty and five years.
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Within the first year of living on Dragonstone, the Volcano erupted and gave them nearly double the land they had before. The Island became renowed for its Rock Salt, Fine Salt, Dragonglass, Glass, and Pearls all of which were abundant.
Created on the Northeastern side of the island, after a second smaller eruption added several miles, was a smaller keep built specifically for Rhaenyras line to inherit. The Keep, known as the Narrows Watchtower, had docks below for the Fleet of the Fourteen which would eventually be given to Prince Rhaenor Velaryon and his betrothed Princess Aemma Targaryen.
As Rhaenyra and Daemon knew what it felt like to be pushed aside they made sure their children knew that family was the most important thing, that nothing could break the bond of blood. They also made sure each child would inherit something so anger and jealosy would not fester.
Each child was given an egg within the cradle, and eventually taught the same lessons so they were given the same opportunities. Princess Rhaenyra was also going to make sure none of her children felt pressured to marry and let them have a say in their betrothals.
Prince Baelon Targaryen ll, Heir to Dragonstone.
Prince Aemon Targaryen ll, Heir to the Stepstones.
Prince Cregan Stark, Heir to the North.
Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, Heir to Crackclaw point.
Prince Lucerys Velaryon, Heir to Driftmark.
Princess Khalysi Targaryen, Heiress to Dragonstone.
Prince Jon Stark, Heir to Moat Cailin.
Princess Arya Stark, Heiress to Moat Cailin.
Prince Corryn Velaryon, Heir to the Sea Serpents Fleet.
Prince Rhaenor Velaryon, Heir to the Fleet of the Fourteen Flames.
Prince Benjen Stark, Heir to Greywater Watch.
Princess Saerys Targaryen, Heiress to Greywater Watch.
Princess Alyssa Targaryen, Heiress to Rainwood Isles.
Princess Aemma Targaryen, Heiress to the Narrows Watchtower.
Princess Visenya Targaryen ll, Heiress to the Vale.
Princess Rhaena Targaryen lll, Heiress to the Isles of Skagos and Skane.
Prince Baelon was betrothed to Princess Khalysi and Prince Lucerys at a young age due to their closeness. They were wedded after Khalysi's tenth and sixth Nameday, marking her as a grown woman.
Prince Aemon was betrothed to Princess Nehemia of Martell after it became obvious they liked each other during peace talks in Dorne. They were married after Princess Nehemias tenth and sixth Nameday, marking her as a grown woman.
Prince Cregan Stark was betrothed to Alyssane Blackwood after he saw her using a bow against the Wildlings. They married soon after the battle as Alyssane was already ten and seven.
Prince Jacaerys was married to Alinor Celtigar, which gave him Crackclaw Point.
Prince Jon and Princess Arya were married on their tenth and sixth nameday.
Prince Corryn was betrothed to Princess Alyssa because of their similar behaviors and wild hearts.
Prince Rhaenor and Princess Aemma were betrothed due to their own similarities and their friendship.
Prince Benjen and Princess Saerys were betrothed because they near begged to be, having fallen for each other at a young age.
Princess Visenya and Princess Rhaena were left unbetrothed, because Lady Jeyne was given permission to find their matches because their territories were gifts from the Vale.
With no information being given to Kings Landing, King Viserys, Queen Alicent, and Ser Otto had no idea of the 'army' of children Rhaenyra had. Nor of the amount of hatched dragons, and claimed dragons.
13 cradle hatched dragons, 3 claimed, with a dragonseed claiming Sheepstealer and becoming Princess Visenya's Sworn Maiden.
With three adult dragons, if not four or five when Rhaenys and Laena visited with Rhaenys and Vhagar.
Dragonstone was a fortress, with an army to protect her.
Khalysi Velaryon, daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen and Laenor Velaryon, younger daughter of Jacaerys and Lucerys Velaryon, 'The Realms Delight', 'Driftmarks Pearl', and cruelly, 'The Dragonless,' was chained to the masts of the pirates ship, thin nightclothes doing nothing to protect her from the icy breeze. Tears stained her face, as she wept, begging the clouded sky to let her family find her.
A part of her wanted to fight, to be like Visenya, but at 10 namedays she had no chance against the older pirates that made up the crew. A strange sound had Khalysi looking up and looking around.
When she looked behind her she found a dragon, bigger than Syrax but smaller than Meleys, perched on the deck, staring at her.
Grey Ghost.
He had cloudy grey scales with a beautiful pearly undertone. His back had armor plates instead of spikes that were a blue-green like the sea when you you looking down. Grey eyes set in a narrow face watched her closely as his long neck swayed slightly. Branching silver horns, arced gracefully catching the little bit of moonlight that shone through the clouds.
Khalysi felt something in her chest urging her closer, so she crawled, legs too weak from the days at sea with little food and water, slowly making her way closer to the beautiful dragon. Once she was close enough, he lowered his head, breathing out a cloud of hot air that warmed her skin.
Every so slowly, she raised a hand and pressed it to the warm scales of his nose. He jerked away but let her hand touch him, and he settled, eyes closing as the bond she'd heard so much about clicked into place.
Grey Ghost climbed further onto the deck, wrapping himself around her and protecting from the icy winds. As he did she remembered the reports.
Ships had been found with no one aboard and no evidence of them being attacked. Sometimes there was blood but very little else. Rhaenyra had suggested it was Grey Ghost but Corlys and Daemon had refuted that, saying the eludice dragon was to shy.
But Khalysi felt it, felt Grey Ghosts bloodlust, his anger towards pirates specifically.
"Grey Ghost. Return. And kill them all."
The dragon snorted in agreement and gently pulled away. In a soundless beat of his wings, he rose disappearing quickly.
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A thick fog, that made the pirate crew nervous, had set in around noon when the sun was high in the sky. But the fog made it seem closer to night, as if the sun had decided to disappear early. Khalysi pressed herself against the mast, waiting. It did not take long.
In less than two hours Grey Ghost had killed them all, and freed Khalysi. She prepared to have him return her hom but something made her pause.
What did she truly have back home? Her brothers would have their kingdoms and keeps, and she would be married off to the highest bidder to have babies.
No, she'd be a Queen of her own making.
A Pirate Queen.
She stole gold, and thick clothes before climbing onto Grey Ghosts back. She remembered an old fairytale that spoke of an island near Old Valyria that had narrowly escaped the Doom. Hopefully it existed.
When she told Grey Ghost he seemed to know what she spoke of and quickly set them on their way.
-------------------
The journey was long and tiring, but peaceful.
Once on the large island, Khalysi rested in a cave of Grey Ghosts choice, hidden from the other creatures of the island. Until she heard the call.
The same call that had urged her to go to Grey Ghost called to her now. And so she followed it.
Deep into the mountain that took up a large chunck of the island rested a dragon. Larger than Vhagar was. But more . . . youthful.
She did not have the flap on her neck, nor the exhaustion that Khalysi had seen on Aemonds newly claimed dragon. Her scales were not dull, in fact, they the opposite.
The scales of her body were all shades of blue, woth the frills along her spine being a paler blue while her belly was dark blue, the same blue that the ocean was at night. Her wings were a beautiful pearly grey with pale green and blue streaks. The spikes along her chest, jaw, and her horns were a beautiful bronze with orange-red streaks, while her tail fins were a solid bronze.
Khalysi was reminded of Daerons hatchling, that she'd never learned the name of, and decided that this dragon was far more beautiful.
Slowly the she-dragon lifter her head, allowing golden eyes to meet murky purple. Khalysi gasped when the dragon gently nudged her and another bond clicked into place. At her back, she could feel the warm presence of Grey Ghost who made not a sound as he watched the older dragon.
"Tessarion," Khalysi decided, smiling at the huff and feeling of amusement from her.
And so her legacy began.
Khalysi Velaryon, Firstborn Daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen and Laenor Velaryon, younger sister of Jacaerys and Lucerys Velaryon.
'The Realms Delight.'
'Driftmarks Pearl.'
'Pirate Queen.'
'Queen of the Sea.'
'Daughter of the Drowned God.'
'Daughter of the Stranger.'
'The Drowned Goddesses Rider.'
'Rider of the Grey Ghost.'
Part two
Rhaenyra watched from the balconey as her sweet boy, her Lucerys, stood before the Cannibals large, scared muzzle, talking to him. She had forbidden him from flying until his new riding leathers had been made. He'd had complete control over what they looked like though and a part of her had ached when she saw the design he had sketched out for the leather worker, the blacksmith, and the tailor.
A dragonglass breastplate with a singular golden-white scale over his heart, with thick, dyed black leather straps. The leather, he'd requested, would have to be nearly three times thicker than any of the others riding leathers, padded with dyed rabbit fur. A thick black cloak that would almost completely hide what he wore underneath, with the inside made of soft, dyed, rabbit fur.
But the scariest part, to her, was the spine. Lucerys had left for the day and returned with the black bone spine of a dragonet and asked for it to be attached to his armor to protect his own, more delicate, spine.
She watched as her son was turned inside out from the death of Arrax and his subsequent claiming of the Cannibal, and her hatred for Aemond grew. If Lucerys hadn't have claimed his and Vhagar's death as his own her and Daemon would have done it. Well, if they made it their first.
Jacaerys had been furious, based on the letter he'd sent, as had Lord Cregan Stark, who swore to her and her sons. He had begged Rhaenyra, first as a son then as the Queens heir and finally as a brother, but she refused. She needed him in Winterfell to plan with Cregan.
But part of her wondered if she should send Lucerys to him. He and Jacaerys had always been close and maybe being together would help him heal over the loss of Arrax.
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Lucerys packed light, since Cannibal had refused to allow a saddle to be placed on him. Only two extra sets of clothing, and some rations were placed in a rucksack for him to carry.
His riding leathers were pulled on last and he couldn't help but stare at himself in the mirror.
A black undershirt with a dragonclass breastplate, Arraxs singular scale resting above where his heart was. Black leather covered his legs, protecting the inside of his thighs and calves with fluffy black rabbit fur poking out. Turning he was able to see the black bone spine running down his back.
But it was all hidden beneath the thick, hooded black cloak.
He looked intimidating, especially with the singular white streak that had earned him the moniker, The Strangers Son, dead eyes, and pale skin.
Earlier that morning, the Queen, his mother, had ordered him to head to Winterfell to join Jacaerys and Lord Cregan Stark to begin preparing Starks Army to march.
Leaving his room Lucerys found Rhaena waiting for him, looking worried for him.
"Are you well prepped? Jacaerys mentioned before he left that it was a long journey. And quite difficult for dragons since they don't like the cold," Rhaena said, only to falter. "Though I guess Cannibal might handle it differently."
"He will. I think he likes the cold."
"Really? That's odd." Rhaena and he made it down to the courtyard where everyone was waiting to say goodbye.
Daemon pulled him into a hug and murmured into his ear, "Just send a letter and I can have the bastards other eye."
"Thank you, Kepa."
Joff, Aegon, and Viserys all threw themselves into Lukes arms, begging him not to leave but he soothed them and reminded them that it was his duty to their Queen.
Rhaenyra gentle wrapped him in her arms, trembling slightly. "Come back to me, my sweet Luke."
"I will, My Queen. I promise."
Baela hugged him tightly and asked him to pass a message along to Jace, which he promised he would and Rhaena hugged him tightly. Tighter than she had last time.
They all let out noises of shock and surlrise when they turned and found Cannibal half inside the courtyard, watching them with glowing green eyes. Lucerys climbed up the sharp spikes of his side and settled at the base of his neck, tugging on the thick padded gloves before holding on tight to the closest spikes.
"Soves!"
With barely a sound, Cannibal took off, disappearing into the clouds with ease.
Inspired by @childotkw Ruination Au, and @nashiriel Carrion
Cannibal followed the scent of blood and death through the heavy storm, barely distinguishable from the dark clouds hiding the sky. Rain pelted his scales but the beast barely felt the whispers of touch against him. Swooping downwards his keen eyes spotted the ripped apart body of a young dragon splayed across a small grouping of rocks.
The rocks were barely large, or strong, enough to hold him but they did and he lowered his head to feast. He was interrupted by a tiny human, wrapped in red and reeking of death, blood, and hatred pointing the strange disconnected fang at his face.
The beast did not blink, amused by the little creatures display, at least until their eyes met and he felt something. He hissed as the boy slowly leaned down grabbing a hunk of flesh before approaching. Looking away he held his hand, fang pointed towards the ground in an odd display.
Huffing, Cannibal took the offering from him and both felt the intristic clicking in their chests. Turning, the beast began feasting on a discarded body piece while the human made strange sounds, cossapsing agai st the largest hunk of flesh.
The emotions coming through the new found bond had Cannibal pausing his feast, and watching the human out of the corner of his eye.
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Lucerys crumpled against the chest of Arrax's broken, discarded body, weeping heavily at the feel of this new bond. It sat where Arrax's was and felt larger but it didn't seem to truly fill the gaping hole he felt for his lost cradle-hatched dragon.
He could feel the heavy weight of the Cannibal's gaze as he cried and he felt an odd sense of comfort from the dragon. For an hour, he cried and the dragon feast until all that was left was Arrax's chest.
When he approached, Lucerys cried out a no throwing himself across the chest, sobbing renewed. The dragon hissed, and a thought passed through Lucerys mind, one that was not his own.
It was the golden scales of Arrax's chest and the thought of 'treasure.'
Lucerys struggled to understand before finally he stood, sword in hand. He pressed the sword underneath one of the golden-white scales of Arrax's chest, and slowly peeled it off. Leaving the body to wash the singular scale off in the sea, Cannibal began his feast anew.
Lucerys watched for a moment as the last of Arrax disappeared down Cannibal's gullet before he made his decision. Using his sword he cut more strips of his cloak and wrapped them around his hands, then resheathed his sword.
Approaching the beast, he slowly reached up and grabbed the closest spike to him. When he didn't turn, Lucerys slowly began climbing up the black hide of the second largest dragon in the world. It was only once he had awkwardly settled at the base of his neck that Cannibal moved, standing to his full height.
Crouching, Cannibal opened black, tattered wings and Lucerys realized what was about to happen. He leaned forward clinging to the spikes just as Cannibal launched himself into the air, wingbeats near silent.
On the beast of nightmares, Lucerys flew back to Dragonstone, Arrax's scale tucked against his chest and his shrieks still in his ears and the ache and pain of falling, throbbing in his bones. And a hatred for Vhagar and her rider in his heart.
Rhaenyra cursed and snarled at Laenor who looked like he was about faint as he stared down at the midwife who was helping her deliver the first of the twins. The firsts head was out and she was now pulling the babe from within to make way for the second.
His attention was caught when he saw movement in the fire. In awe, even as his hand was crushed, he watched a tiny hatchling crawl forth from the flames.
The green hatchling, Vhagars, Laenor assumed, toddled towards the midwife before screeching and scrambling up the basin to get to the babe. The midwife shrieked, getting everyones attention but a wail from Rhaenyra had their attention turning back to her.
It took at least two more hours for the second babe to be born and he was closely followed by the second hatchling climbing from the fire. The second, silver, hatchling climbed onto the bed and toddled towards where the second babe was being held by Laenor.
The green hatchling screeched at the midwives as he followed after the first babe who had been cleaned. It scrambled up the bed and over Rhaenyra to watch over him.
"So my dear Wife, what shall we name them? Our babes?"
"Jacaerys, after King Jaehaeris. And Lucerys after Lucerys Velaryon the Ship Master." Laenor couldn't help but be amused by how his wife had already picked out Verlaryon names.
Reaching out, Laenor ran his fingers over the chubby cheek of Jacaerys, "The heir to Driftmark. My heir."
He switched his attention to little Lucerys in his arms, "The heir to Crackclaw Point."
Rhaenyra smiled, but her attention was on the green dragon as she ran a gentle finger down the little ones back. Chirping the dragon did its best to clamber up her shoulder to get a better vantage point.
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Eventually the two were old enough to name their dragons.
Jacaerys chose the name Vermax, after the God of boundaries, travel, communication, trade, language, and writing. He had liked the stories and legends as a child and had decided the name was perfect.
Lucerys decided on the name Arrax, after the Ruler of the Gods, Arrax, who was also the God of law, order, justice, governance, and strength. He had always seen the world in black and white and sought to see justice for slights.
The two dragons grew up chasing after their riders throughout the castle, until they grew to large and had to find caves to nest in.
Rhaenyra cursed Rickon for putting her through this again but the man simply held her hand and murmured reassurances. Laenor nor Daemon seemed able to handle the birthing room and neither Laena nor Rhaenys would make it in time. She screamed as another of pain hit her just in time for the castle to shake beneath the weight of a dragon.
Her eyes snapped open as Rickon cursed, reaching for the sword that was normally at his hip but had been forced to leave outside. The guards shouted at the door as the midwives panicked.
Rhaenyra's eyes drifted towards the window where a large yellow eye stared back, watching her. She screamed as another wave hit her and the oldest midwife rushed towards her to support her as she panicked.
It took another three hours for her next son to be born, with the dragon outside watching her the entire time.
When he was finally placed back in her arms, no longer bloodied, the dragon outside rumbled focus completely on the newly named Cregan Stark, Heir to Winterfell. It was then that Rhaenyra knew what she had to do.
Using her strength, she climbed out of the birthing bed, with Rickon supporting her while the Midwives fretted over her. He helped get her outside, with a retinue of knights and midwives at their back though they all froze when they found Vermithor perched on the castle, watching them wuth those yellow eyes.
Slowly, Rhaenyra approached him as he lowered his massive head to the walkway. His eye though was on the babe in her eyes as a low croon came from his throat.
Cregan gurgled, delighted as his tiny hands waved towards the huge, spiky dragon. Vermithor slowly leaned forward until the babe could slap a chubby hand against his nose, earning a squeal of genuine excitement from Cregan.
Her heart warmed even as her entire body ached from the pains of labors. Her son had claimed the Bronze Fury, dragon of King Jaehaeris himself.