Chapter 2: The Will for Succession

Chapter Text

Having to move to Dragonstone felt like being banished at first, torn out of the only place he'd ever known for the first eight years of his life as atonement for what Lucerys was, and what he had done. But as the years passed he slowly grew to realize that an actual punishment would have been to be sent somewhere like the Wall—left alone without his family and away from joys such as his mother remarrying, or getting to watch as his number of siblings doubled, then tripled. It was even more enchanting living within the walls of his Targaryen ancestors' history, their carved-out home off an island of Westeros. Lucerys learned the intricate architecture of Old Valryia in his blood, rubbing his fingers into the stone etchings, burning his mouth muscles by rolling his tongue of Old Valryian, and learning the winding inner workings of Dragonstone with Jacaerys and Rhaena by his side, Baela residing across the water at Driftmark. So now, as he was sailing across Blackwater Bay with an uneasy stomach and body leaning over the ship's side, he groaned in frustration mixed with nausea as they got closer to King's Landing.

It had been six years since he—or anyone from his family had really been seen since that night on Driftmark. And now they had to return due to his right to the damned place being questioned by Vaemond, Lucerys huffing with anxiety as he recalled the man's face from when he called out his bastardy all those years ago during Laena's funeral. The boy felt too much, and standing on the bobbing ship wasn't helping any. He had begged his mother to let him ride Arrax over to King's Landing, knowing being on his dragon would relieve his sour state a bit, but she had insisted that only if his elder brother took to the sky with him. Jace said it would be unfair to leave Baela on her own as Dreamfyre was still just a babe. The mention of Rhaena not even having one made Luke simmer down immediately. So now Lucerys was stuck hiding his face over the edge of the ship's wood and regurgitating the little food he was able to stomach in the early morning.

The churning in his belly and the bile in his throat left him miserable and bitter, the swirling thoughts of how inconvenient and obsolete these matters were when Lucerys never even wanted the Velaryon fleet or to be Lord of the Tides; especially not when Lord Corlys wasn't even dead yet. His sickness from the sea was the very reason he shouldn't even be a candidate, nevertheless, the heir simply based on the fact that he was Laenor's son—Lucerys cleared his throat as the acid rose from the hurtful reminder. He wasn't his father's son. After six years and painful mulling over that night, the night High Tide was a place Luke would never be glad to call his, the boy replayed the way his uncle had taunted Lucerys and his brother. The memory was so vibrant still, the way Aemond had laughed about the way Luke still hadn't pieced it together. How Luke hadn't known that his real father had been the one that died in Harrenhal. 

Lucerys grimaced at the thought, remembering the way the torch fire had flickered light onto his uncle's face as he tormented them with his insults, almost nearly killing them with his own two hands. Luke didn't want to think of Aemond anymore.

So he remembered about Laenor and Harwin, how Laenor would smile at him walking hand in hand through the hallways of the Red Keep, or the way Ser Harwin Strong had shown him how to properly hold a sparing sword in his hands. Yes, the good things. Lucerys kept conjuring up fond memories of his time in the capitol to try and push out all of the bad. Even the horrible rampant city of Flea Bottom below, pooling with crime, was much less of a worrying thought than Driftmark, the curly-haired boy shutting his eyes as they passed the haunting island.

He opened them as they ghosted past it, the faint outline of the land in the early morning's ocean fog making the boy swallow hard, moisture returning back to his tongue. His mother had reassured Luke about how she would be the one talking, playing all the politics that would be thrown their way. It wasn't her petition he was worried about, it was everything else. The legitimacy being questioned of not only his claim but Jacaerys's to the Iron Throne, and then Joffrey who would be dragged along by his own dark hair. Lucerys wanted to yell about how he never wanted anything from anyone, that Lord Vaemond would be more than capable to command the fleet and he'd continue his sentence out at Dragonstone as a forgotten second son, just as he always had wanted.

Then his mind wandered to when he watched as his mother was being stitched by the maesters from the wound Alicent Hightower afflicted on her that night, how the queen tried to pry an eye from Luke's own socket in payment for the debt she felt he owed. She would have been successful if his mother hadn't caught her arms, stopping her in her tracks, and in return getting sliced for Luke's actions. Lucerys couldn't brush everything under the rug and let his mother's fight be for nothing, that scar forever on her forearm signifying a will that was unbroken—and he who had none would not be the one to scorn her efforts.

Jace poked fun at his younger brother as they docked, teasing him out loud to make Rhaena laugh, Lucerys rolling his eyes at the two before looking at the long winding road all the way up to the Red Keep. The red-bricked tower peaked above the trees and made Luke's stomach turn once more, looking away to bicker at his brother to distract himself further. As they got closer and closer to their old home, Lucerys knew that the real thing that worried him about this trip was coming face to face with what he'd done—who he'd maimed. The smell of iron from pools of blood burnt his nostrils, and the sound of his nose breaking still made him cringe and wriggle it as a phantom pain shot through it, feeling silly after knowing there was someone else with a far worse affliction than him.

Immediately upon arrival, Lucerys and his family knew their welcome into King's Landing was reciprocated as none of their white-haired relatives came to greet them. Daemon let out a low groan of annoyance, his mother leading the family in with grace, Jacaerys looked to his brother with a humored face, his carefree nature breaking quickly at the sight of the inside of the halls as well as the scent. There were banners changed, incense burning that made the boys' heads dizzy, and their usual Targaryen heraldry completely snuffed out from every nook and cranny. It was dark and gloomy, Jace joking that he felt he needed to get on his knees and pray, but Luke swallowed hard as he passed the dancing flame of torches, feeling the watchful eyes of servants from dark crannies. The two were dismissed by their mother so they could roam while she introduced the little ones to their grandsire, Joffrey whining to be let loose with them but their mother told them to hurry and get going since they'd begged for legroom all the way over in the carriages. Lucerys gave Rhaena a sympathetic smile, knowing she'd be playing a part sooner than he himself was intended, and took to his older brother's side as they bounded through the familiar yet significantly changed halls.

Luke smiled as he understood where his brother was taking them, the two ascending the stairs of the sparing yard and the eagerness in Jace egging his brother to move even faster, the younger taking his time regardless. He looked around at the people from behind his brother, Jacaerys looking them all in the eye with his head held high and Lucerys supposed it was because he was growing faster into his mother's features, the dragon-like face of Targaryens with poise and simmering heat to their stare. Or maybe it was because Jace was too proud not to. Either way, Luke understood that their visit was not something of a fun nature, especially with the crowds staring at the back of his head, his brown tufts feeling they were being seared off. He tried to laugh along with what his brother was saying, bringing up childhood memories that were fond—the way he had done back on the boat for himself—but seeing the way people were now shamelessly glaring, he turned to his brother uneasily. 

"What's your problem?" He wanted to smack his brother in the face for being in fact too proud.

"Everyone's staring at us," Lucerys replied softly, Jace taking a dagger and pretending to try and attack him as a joke, only to scare the real fear out of his little brother. But looking down at the sharp blade reminded him once more of who he didn't want to see, the younger getting frustrated at Jacaerys again before continuing. "No one would question me being heir to Driftmark if... if I looked more like Ser Laenor Velaryon than Ser Harwin Strong." 

His older brother only looked at him and said, "It doesn't matter what they think."

If that were the plain truth, then they wouldn't have had to come back to King's Landing.

The sound of cheering and excitement brought the two brothers away from the dreary conversation, both floating across the sparing yard toward a group gathering to witness something great occurring in the corner. Luke welcomed any distractions at this point, getting on his tiptoes to peer over the tall shoulders of other onlookers and eventually seeing the display once Jacaerys made way for the two of them. 

It was a quick movement of white, long hair following a body that zoomed in combat that entranced the Velaryon prince, the sound of the swinging a sword that hissed as it cut quickly through the air at Ser Critston Cole making him gawk. Then, the assailant wasn't turned to them any longer, and Lucerys' stomach dropped for the hundredth time that day as he laid his eyes on the eyepatch that adorned the man's face, Jace looking back at his brother with a look of worry.

Aemond had grown tall, taller than both Jace and himself even though he was only a year older than his brother, and two years more than Lucerys. He moved swiftly and eagerly through the air as to avoid contact with Criston Cole's wild wielding of a morning star, surely putting his all into every swing he was taking. As soon as it had started, it finished with a sword pointed at Criston's throat, the quick panting of the knight making Luke feel that his neck would surely get knicked. As claps erupted for the show, Luke felt this was what was needed to make Jacaerys understand that this was the nature of things, and how fast time had moved and quickened while they were sent to Dragonstone. That hatred for them simmered eagerly at King's Landing, and it was bound to blow up.

"Well done, my prince. You'll be winning tourneys in no time."

"I don't give a shit about tourneys. Nephews... have you come to train?" Aemond's voice was quick like lightning, his single eye crazy like a storm as he looked right at the boys he still knew the sight of after all these years. Luke thought his brother would bare teeth by now, but Jace stayed silently in place with an open mouth. Then he swallowed, finally returning his uncle's stare, the tension electrifying every corner of Lucerys' body and his skin pebbling in anticipation under his insane glare.

"Open the gate!" The mechanical whirring and pulling of the large wooden doors to the sparing yard brought Lucerys away from the fiery welcome and from feeling half sorry for his brother any longer. The brilliant blue of House Velaryon's banners waved and the sound of rhythmic marching bombarded Luke's senses. Vaemond stared into his eyes, like all those years ago feet away from the sea, and the young prince understood that at that moment if a funeral weren't occurring then, the man would have thrown him into the water if he knew then that he'd have to fight this claim.

"The day is growing late," Jacaerys said into his brother's ear, taking leave first to lead them away from the sparring yard, Luke catching a glimpse of his uncle's smirking face out of the corner of his eyes before he looked ahead and followed. They went back up the stairs that they had come from, feeling the heat of a single eye burning the nape of his neck as he left. "What the hell was all of that?"

"I suppose the reason why we left this place," Aemond. "And the reason why we were brought back." Vaemond.

"Oh Lucerys, you sure have a knack for pissing off men twice your size." Finally, Luke laughed heartily, Jace ruffling his head of hair and stopping suddenly in the dark hallway with a mischievous look, Lucerys looking at him with a deadpan face.

"Whatever you're thinking, cease it. Plotting is not your best quality."

"Rhaena is still with Mother. The little ones are with Daemon and the serving women. We still have the rest of the noon to kill-"

"Jacaerys-"

"Let's go mount our dragons. Arrax and Vermax are in the dragon pit. Who's to tell us no?" Lucerys swallowed, looking at Jace who was probably just spewing anything to distract them from the antics that would happen tomorrow. "We came all this way with them, brother. We are Targaryen's in a place that seems to forget that."

"We'll go once night comes. Bringing even more attention while the sun is still out would make us seem ignorant." Jacaerys smiled big and shook Luke by the shoulders, patting his back as he passed him by and declared they should go down to the kitchens to get some food. They smiled at the servant girls, Jace using his princely manners and charm to have them whip up a lemon dessert for his younger brother who had an indefinite sweet tooth. Smelling the savory and mouth-watering scents of the meals made Lucerys realize just how hungry he was, his appetite growing back and growling by the time they were served. The two ate in front of the women, thanking them and ravaging their plates with gratitude, humming happily in between their bites. Giggles erupted from behind the young girl's hands but they simmered down once they realized the people they served did not welcome the boys, even if they were family, so they shouldn't be found enjoying their company either.

"You know, I used to hate the sight of my dark hair. But I realized it's what sets us apart. It makes servants comfortable in our presence, it makes me feel common-born." Luke admitted, licking the last of his lemon cake from his fingers. Jacaerys just stared at his brother with a bored look, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. 

"We are not lowborn-"

"I know we're not. We're dragons, we're Old Valyria. Though, if we're seen as just like them," Lucerys looks at the bustling workers getting the individual meals for the night, girls fleeing out with plates and silver to serve the food while it was still hot. "Leading them will come easier, no? White hair stirs them it seems."

Jace wiped his hands on the cloth napkin, folding it while staring at his brother with a judging eye, blinking his simmering heat away before leaving their dishes in the wash tins. They gave their thanks once more, smiling at the girls who turned away with shy eyes and hid smiles behind their white bonnets. Both of them walked out into the dark hallways that grew even more shadows as the sun set now, Jacaerys whispering more of his side of the conversation to his brother as they headed over to the dragon pit.

"White hair only scares them if it comes in the form of our psychotic uncles. We're already nothing like those two. Aegon's a drunken pervert while Aemond is a raging bloodhound. Lucerys, you and I will lead and honor our working people and the realm because we are their protectors. Not because we come to them in the form of a false common hood." Luke hummed.

"It pains me sometimes when you make intelligent points."

"Well, it pains me more when you believe you have to make yourself inferior to claim your own birthright."

He began to take off his cloak, Lucerys doing the same with a ghosting smile on his face, feeling tension begin to leave his body entirely once he got closer to Arrax. They went down into the depths of where they were held, the warmth of their breathing and brewing flames from having just eaten livestock filling Luke and Jace with comfort. The dragons chirped as they saw the two brothers approach them, trying to head toward them but the clasps around their ankles yanked them back as they were still chained. Immediately they uncuffed them, Vermax rubbing into Jace's side while Arrax shook his long neck in contentedness. Quickly they led the creatures out of the dragon pit and rode them with hushed 'Soves!', and fly they did.

They kept their bodies close to the heated scales to make sure they rode low across the water, quiet and calm like they usually did over at Dragonstone at nights when they couldn't fall to sleep. The two winded between each other as they zipped through the air, laughing with their faces pressed into the warmth of their dragons and breathing in their scent. Water from the seas splashed up as their tails dragged, the two boys getting soaked as they continued to cut the ocean and ripple the tides. Once they slowed their cruising, Lucerys took the time to notice the moonlight bouncing off of the sea's surface, the brightness of it resembling the white of Arrax, and he couldn't help but push his face further into the creature to permeate his scent into his nose. Arrax called out with a trickling roar, a sound that was meant to soothe and encourage Luke for more affection toward him, but Jacaerys pulled Vermax back, signifying to the younger that it was probably time to stop the flight and calm the dragons down before returning. 

So they rested on the shore, the wet sand making the boys sink in before Jace gave up and just began taking off his heavy clothes, sopping from the ocean water. Once Luke began to follow, his face contorted as the smell of Arrax left his nostrils and the scent of the capitol's poor irrigation water wafted into his face. He peeled off his clothes faster, Jace laughing now at his brother's cringing face and teasing him about how it wasn't that bad, Luke reminding him of all the bodily fluids that resulted in those putrid scents. Now they were both in their undergarments and sitting far away from the water on the rocks while Vermax and Arrax perched tall behind them, drying off their scales as well so the princes leaned instinctively into their warmth.

"When it's your time to rule, make sure Mother has done something about the smell around here by then." Jacaerys laughed, giving his brother a shove and stretching his legs out to look up at the moon.

"You know Mother's planning on betrothing us to Baela and Rhaena, right?" Luke snapped his head up, Jace already looking at him, and hugged his knees tighter to his chest. Since he wasn't saying anything, his brother continued. "I mean it hasn't been confirmed yet since it has to go through Lady Rhaenys but if it were to, I'll be with Baela of course since she's older. By mere minutes, but still."

Luke laughed, rubbing his shoulders with his clammy hands and nodding his head. He and Rhaena. The boy felt he would be alright with that as she was calm in nature and easy to get along with ever since they were joined as siblings through their parent's marriage. He just hoped she'd be happy to have him.

"Are you okay with that?" Luke asked his older brother, looking up at him through his wet curls and chin on his knees. Jace looked away into the sky again, leaning back on his hands and smiling as he felt Vermax's warmth vibrate through his scales.

"I would've liked to fight for love as Uncle Daemon had for Lady Laena. Go fight a valiant war and come back to ask Baela for her hand, something noble. But I suppose these politics in themselves are battles." Jacaerys looked older in the dark night, or maybe it was their secret shared fear that tomorrow they could be beheaded for being bastards that made the elder speak wisely. "Have your nerves calmed?"

Lucerys nodded, getting up from the rocks and pulling down his undergarments as they had ridden up his thighs, Jace doing the same and grabbing their clothes. Luke felt the hair on his nape rise, pulling at the back of his wet hair and looking up the steep cliff that the Red Keep loomed on, a single pebble dropping down from above. As if someone had been standing over the edge to watch him.

"Let's ride them back into the pit, the winds will probably do a better job at drying us." They climbed back into their clothes, gagging from the smell and cringing at the feeling of cold heavy cloth on their skin before getting onto their dragons and heading off. 

Trying to ignore their whines, the boys tried to clasp their beasts up again, Arrax abiding Luke easily and chirping before curling up into himself to sleep. Vermax on the other hand kept pushing against Jace, nudging him away from his legs so he couldn't be chained again, the prince telling Lucerys to head up without him so he could tell a servant to ready baths for each of the boys in their respective chambers.

Luke nodded and headed out, pulling his cloak around him as it was the only dry article of clothing he had, clutching it against his body. He stepped quietly, the squeaking of his boots making him wince every time he took a careful step, sighing once he realized his footsteps were highlighted behind him in water, leaving a trail. Quickly he winded through the hallways, thankful for the first time during his visit that the incense stunk more than himself. Then, he finally caught a servant girl coming back from what seemed from in the direction of the queen's chambers with empty platters, standing to a halt to lower her head to him. 

"Could you see to getting a bath ready in my sleeping quarters as well as Prince Jacaerys'?"

"Yes, my prince."

"Thank you. Have yourself a good night." He took off his cloak now, his legs taking him up the stairs that overlooked the square below, remembering the way to his old childhood chambers where he was told he'd be staying the night. Lucerys noticed he still had his riding gloves on, taking to them immediately in case his mother was still up and caught him. As he looked down to tear them off, pulling at them with his teeth once he realized the moisture of the water made the leather cling to him, Luke was bumped into harshly from behind. 

The tall cloaked figure in front of him peered over their own shoulder as they came to a halt ahead of the boy, a long straight nose sneering upward as it inhaled Lucerys' stench. The boy gawked, scoffing to then spit out his leather glove into his other hand, walking past the figure to take his leave down the hallway. 

"Have yourself a good night as well," Luke grumbled sarcastically, a familiar feral feeling emitting from inside him that he hadn't conjured up since the night he took his uncle Aemond's eye on Driftmark. The burning at the back of his neck he had encountered since his visit grew again, Luke snapped his head to look down the hallway and see the stranger walking in the opposite direction, stalking slowly away.

Once he found his chambers, hot water was already waiting for him with sweet scents, and a white sleeping gown was prepped on his bed. He hummed in relaxation as he lowered himself into the tub, forgetting the fact that the servants couldn't have gotten to his request that fast, that somebody had already beaten him to the order and laid out his sleeping smock personally. But Luke slept soundly, the incense lit in his chambers making him unconscious so deeply that he couldn't hear the sound of his chamber doors reopening or feel the usual singing fire of a single violet eye, watching the boy as his chest rose and fell repeatedly.

___

Lucerys woke up early, scratching his belly as he blinked his grogginess away, sitting up in bed until a few moments passed and servants barged in to start dressing him. His hair was wild, getting brushed down gently by a young girl as he yawned and brought a warm towel to his skin and rub the sleep from his lashes and the rest of his face. 

"Would you like to have breakfast with your Mother and siblings, my prince?" He shook his head no and gave the girls a slight smile, the servants bowing their heads before quickly dismissing themselves. He sat still and steady, his appetite gone again, and let his mind wander, looking around the room to see it hadn't changed from when he left it many years ago. Then he thought about the dragon pit, where Arrax was, and if his beast had any will to eat down there, remembering how his mother had told them of the integral connection between a rider and their dragon. If he wasn't hungry, then Arrax probably wasn't either. 

Then Luke's mind trickled to the thought of the biggest dragon in the world, and its rider, wondering if Vhagar herself got lonely as she was too big to fit in the pit with the others—and if that rubbed off on his grim uncle.

"Lucerys, let's get going already it's time." He rose at the sound of his mother's knock, his body moving without his knowledge over to the door and he nodded without a word, Rhaenyra giving him a soft smile before grabbing his hand. His worries simmered under her gentle gaze and the nerves soothed over as she rubbed her thumb on the back of his knuckles, leading him to the throne room. As everyone looked upon them once they walked in, his mother held his wrist tight and spoke calmly into his ear, "We'll be alright, sweet boy." 

She let go of him, standing tall in front of the family as they took place their next to Lucerys, his ears burning as he felt the scorching stare of onlookers. The most familiar heat made his eyes follow to meet Aemond's one eye. The prince turned away as Lord Vaemond walked in, the man taking his place beside Lady Rhaenys and sparing one glance at the boy before Otto began to speak.

"Though it is the great hope of this court that Lord Corlys Velaryon survive his wounds, we gather here with the grim task of dealing with the succession of Driftmark. As Hand, I speak with the King's voice on this and all other matters. The Crown will now hear the petitions. Ser Vaemond of House Velaryon."

His heartbeat was the only thing he could hear, as Vaemond talked of Old Valyria, speaking so confidently and looking into Otto's eyes without hesitation. Luke felt if he could even have a speck of willingness as he did, then maybe he could bear all this; be able to have a real reason to hold his head high instead of only doing so because he felt he should be.

"The true, unimpeachable blood of House Velaron runs through my veins."

"As it does in my sons, the offspring of Laenor Velaryon. If you cared so much about our house's blood, Ser Vaemond, you would not be so bold as to supplant its rightful heir. No, you only speak for yourself and for your own ambition." His mother spoke coldly, Luke snapping out of his train of thought and remembering if this all fell through and he was to be beheaded for being a bastard, then his mother would soon follow for adultery. Lucerys shook as he forced himself to breathe, Alicent softly reminding Rhaenyra to allow Vaemond to finish his petition.

Then the man turned to them, his face smug, and pointing his chin at his mother with disregard to talk to the queen or The Hand now, aiming his words at his true targets now.

"What do you know of Velaryon blood, Princess?" Luke seethed silently, hating when anybody talked down to his mother. Especially like Vaemond did now, in front of all to see. "I could cut my veins and show it to you and you still wouldn't recognize it. This is about the future and survival of my house, not yours."

Rhaenyra stared ahead without paying mind to Vaemond as he spoke to her, the Lord giving Luke one last look and turning away as he caught the heat from the second sons simmering eyes. It was that feeling inside him that swirled now, watching the back of the white-haired man and imagining him gone, slaughtered, away from this place so Luke no longer had to hear this drab.

"Thank you, Ser Vaemond. Princess Rhaenyra, you may now speak for your son, Lucerys Velaryon."

Rhaenyra stepped forward and began to talk then, Lucerys hanging on every word she was saying before she got cut off by the booming voice of a guard. 

"King Viserys of House Targaryen, the First of His Name, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm."

His grandsire walked out, so feeble and weak, and yet everyone waited still and silent in anticipation of his very presence to grace the Iron Throne. Luke swallowed, witnessing silently the twisted look of horror on Lord Vaemond Velaryon's face as the king limped forward on his cane, looking at his daughter, Rhaenrya with a knowing eye. As he was helped forward by Daemon, Luke felt the winding fire inside of him finally silence, knowing that his mother wouldn't further be disrespected without the other party certainly being burnt in return.

"I must... admit... my confusion. I do not understand why petitions are being heard over a settled succession. The only one present... who might offer keener insight into Lord Corlys's wishes is the Princess Rhaenys." Lucerys swallowed at his newfound hope. Even though she was his grandmother and should certainly be fond of each other, Lady Rhaenys never sought to ever entertain Luke or even exchange a word with him. Certainly, he'd leave King's Landing with his life, and now possibly without the title of heir to Driftmark if she denounced him then and there.

"Indeed, Your Grace." She looked at Vaemond once before stepping forward, Luke feeling a twinge in his side from her vacant stare. "It was ever my husband's will that Driftmark pass through Ser Laenor to his trueborn son... Lucerys Velaryon. His mind never changed. Nor did my support of him." His hope was trampled, the idea of leading an unfulfilled life full of boyish dragon riding fleeing his mind right then and there.

"As a matter of fact, the Princess Rhaenyra has just informed me of her desire to marry her sons Jace and Luke to Lord Corlys's granddaughters, Baela and Rhaena. A proposal to which I heartily agree." Lucerys had almost forgotten as he turned to look at Jace smiling at him, Luke not returning the courtesy to his older brother as he recognized with everyone present that the real reason Rhaenys backed him was in favor of her granddaughter's possible reaped benefits.

"Well... the matter is settled. Again. I hereby reaffirm Prince Lucerys of House Velaryon as heir to Driftmark, the Driftwood Throne, and the next Lord of the Tides." The dark-haired prince thought it was over, a wheeze sounded from Vaemond's mouth making him snap his head and make the awful thoughts wind back up inside his skull.

Vaemond turned to point at Luke with anger shaking his entire being, teeth-baring, and eyes bulging.

"That is no true Velaryon, and certainly no nephew of mine." Luke held his chin up and felt further scorned once his mother tried to dismiss him to his chambers like a child, Jace looking at his younger brother from the corner of his eye and holding him in place. They fanned each other's flames as they backed their mother, waiting for Lord Vaemond to speak more mutiny.

"My house survived the Doom and a thousand tribulations besides. And gods be damned... I will not see it ended on the account of this..." Vaemond was in his face again, sweat-slicked and crazy-eyed, Luke letting out a shivering breath. Daemon whispered encouragement for the man to give any reason to move forward. And so Vaemond did, anger taking over his entire being.

"Her children... are bastards! And she... is... a whοre." Jace shook with anger while Lucerys looked around the room with a quivering state of mind, carnage inside his head and the flashing of people's shocked faces, his mother's disrespected state, and the sneering smile of his uncle Aemond as he locked eye contact with him. They stared at each other in that moment, Lucery's only hearing his heartbeat in his eardrums again and getting thrown back to that night on Driftmark, realizing the ghost smell of iron was no longer a figment of his imagination when he realized Daemon had unsheathed his sword and cut through Lord Vaemond.

"He can keep his tongue."

"Disarm him!"

"Call the maesters!"

"Father?" 

All the familiar voices rang in the room of his family, and Lucerys couldn't help but feel that the awfulness that brooded inside of him was the reason it came to fruition, the blood spilled was his fault. He had conjured awfulness out of Lord Vaemond and he paid for it with his life, his mother fell pregnant with him, and so now she bore a bastard son who branded her permanently and she continuously paid for it. Looking again across the room and seeing the eyepatch on his uncle's satisfied face, his unbroken eye boring into his, Luke felt his cursed presence cemented and unworthy of all of this pain if it only signified his place on Driftmark. 

It was mayhaps what he deserved after all.