#lcerys

[worthyheir]

@lcerys / post gullet starter call X

Whether is was his near brush with death that finally spurned them to take King's Landing, or the knowledge that Aemond and Vhagar had departed the capital, he was not sure. His mother had been furious by his departure, particularly when she had explicitly ordered him to stay behind, to not fly to the Gullet in search of his youngest brother. A mission he had failed, regardless. She was no longer allowing him to attend the council meetings, even after he was healed enough to depart his bed (though he had done so far before being necessarily 'allowed'), and he was only being told the bare minimum of what they were planning. His anxiety, watching his mother and the others fly to King's Landing, knowing there was nothing he could do to help, was agonizing.

Now that he was in the Red Keep, his mother seated upon the Iron Throne, he was despondent about what his purpose here truly was. Nominally, he was still the Prince of Dragonstone, and heir to the Iron Throne after his mother, but he was not sure he was worthy of the title any longer. The distance he has put between himself and his family, since his failure in protecting his youngest brother, is vast. Even Luke, who had been his closest friend his entire life, he cannot find himself able to confide in now. His answers to his brothers, his mother, to Daemon, are all short, as brief and succinct as possible.

Even this day, he finds himself standing on the balcony of the council chambers, knowing that his mother sits the throne, and he ought to be standing her side, the heir to the throne preparing to take her place one day, staring at the city. They were not doing the best for the smallfolk, after taking the city, but he is not the person to bring those thoughts forward. His hands are behind his back when his brother approaches, and he knows that there is an explanation needed for his absence. "Were you sent to find me?" He asks, his eyes not looking over at his brother - he finds it difficult to look any of his family truly after failing to rescue their youngest member. "I can find my way to the throne room myself, if my presence is truly needed."

[sentys]

IT WASN’T AS IF HE EXPECTED TO BE MET BY THE BASTARD . Helaena had insisted that he attend her in the gardens with the children & who was he to resist ? It was a fine opportunity ( excuse ) to avoid the visitors currently POLLUTING the air of the Red Keep . Admittedly he’d cut an unusual figure among his niece & nephews as they rummaged about , looking for insects that would please their mother , but they nor his sister seemed not to MIND . He had been their silent guard , occasionally murmuring a comment in response to Helaena’s musings . It hadn’t been until Jaehaerys had succeeded in thoroughly staining his trousers with grass & dirt while bringing his mother an odd-looking beetle the size of his thumb — one that Helaena may have already COLLECTED , that Aemond cast a glance at the shadows upon the ground & decided it was time for him to take his leave .

A soft pat upon the head given to his youngest ( legitimate ) nephew , which inspired a contented grunt from Maelor & assurance to his sister that he’d attend her later should she need him , the second prince bid her goodbye with only a nod to their household knight signaling that it was his turn to look after his charges . Unfortunately , the halls were abundant with courtiers — not an UNUSUAL sight in the slightest , but not his preferred ambiance , especially with the WHORE of Dragonstone & her brood of bastards invading King’s Landing to visit the ailing king . Their sort were sure to attract attention , & while Aemond might’ve delighted in how some would ogle the more UNSCRUPULOUS side of the family & cast their silent if not hushed judgment , he was in no mood to partake in spectating . Perhaps his elder brother had the right idea of it , venturing into the city & busying himself in all his preferred manner of debauchery to AVOID their relatives .

Speaking of … even half-sighted he saw the WHELP before approaching , choosing not to halt his stride or direction & instead continuing forth to his desired destination . If the seed was indeed Strong , then the boy would either watch his step or right his footing before he could fall over . If not , well then he PITIED House Velaryon more than he already did . | @lcerys

[vermaxs]

the rumble of vermax's call is a familiar thing, singing for jacaerys from where he lingers further up the grey stoned beach and away from the lapping shore that licks at the young prince's boots. in another life, arrax would return that call— but the broken pieces of him, the great beast that carried jacaerys' brother, had washed up on these very shores he treads now.

" gīda, vermax. " jace speaks the noble tongue of valyrian as he wanders further from the creatures side, and along the beach towards a row of shacks and homes that despite first glance, stand strong against the rolling storms that often affronted the area- pelted by rain and even hail. he doesn't expect to find any sign of his brother here, his remains likely swept to the bottom of the sea with the rest of arrax, but he can't help but hope—

if they could just find him. if they could burn him like they burned their ancestors and lay him to rest as a velaryon and a targaryen should, maybe their mother's heart might be put to an easier rest. maybe his own could be quelled of the growing rage that saw sleepless nights sowed in both past and present.

instead what he finds amidst the growing fog, rolling in from the sea with the scent of salt heavy in it's draft, is a figure— slight and small. a child. a familiar child that can't be more than a ghost ... a ghost of jacaerys' grief, sorrow, and desperation. for that child before him, dressed in clothes unbefit of his station, is his little brother.

is lucerys velaryon.

" luke? "

@lcerys liked for a starter, from the starter call posted here.

[isefyres]

@lcerys asked: ❝ you look well, but…tired. ❞ ( to viserys i )

He   laughs   at   that.   Tired,   aye,   he   had   been   tired   for   a   while   now.   His   body   slowly   betraying   him   and   sickness   seems   to   be   growing   more   with   the   years   despite   the   maesters   promising   he   would   live   long   and   prosper.   His   brother   once   said   to   never   trust   the   Maesters,   and   perhaps   he   was   right.   Perhaps   this   is   his   punishment   for   making   that   ill   advised   decision   for   his   son,   who   only   lived   a   few   hours   and   then   his   Aemma   was   gone.   "I   been   thinking   a   lot   these   days.   Wondering   if   this   is   how   Balerion   felt,   in   his   last   days."  

He   had   felt   blessed,   that   the   dragon   had   chosen   him   as   his   last   rider,   as   his   last   bonded   Valyrian.   The   beast   barely   flew   and   when   he   did,   it   was   short   and   sweet   and   he   spend   most   of   his   days   taking   care   of   his   dragon,   singing   to   him   until   he   passed   on,   in   peace.   "I   wonder   if   I   will   feel   as   peaceful   as   he   did,   when   I   die.   I   felt   it.   So   many   years,   he   was   ready   to   go."   But   is   he   ready?   Is   Rhaenyra   ready?   It   feels   that   a   fine   thread   holds   the   House   Targaryen   together   most   days.   

[greenmther]

𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐊, & 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓'𝐕𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐃, 𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐃 to avoid running into rhaenyra upon her regular visits to her father. she is informed when she arrives, when she leaves, & if the queen wished to know what they spoke of . . all she need do is ask viserys. still, her guilt over how that night was handled, its aftermath, is always on her mind. despite that, she will remain steadfast in her demanding of consequences for the maiming of her son. for action be taken for it, whatever form that came in, but the calling for a child's eye feels like bile in her throat now. in the moment she wanted justice, she was enraged. so, imagine her surprise when she happened to run into the prince lucerys in mostly empty hallways. 'i wasn't informed of rhaenyra bringing one of her sons with her,' crosses the mind as she puts on a smile. hands come to clutch at her front, ❛ prince lucerys, i am surprised to see you at court today. ❜ begins alicent, ❛ is your mother still visiting the king this afternoon ? ❜

【 ✧ @lcerys liked for a starter ! 】

[myrc3lla-a]

"Never   seen   a   dragon   so   up   close   before."   The   lady   speaks   with   ease,   a   smile   upon   her   features   as   she   hopes   she   can   ease   a   conversation   with   the   Prince.   Her   grandfather   might   be   all   too   keen   on   her   getting   close   to   any   of   the   princes   but   Prince   Lucerys   seems   more   than   anything,   sullen.   "Mother   is   against   it,   but   I   been   learning   some   Valyrian,   though   I   heard   they   only   listen   to   Targaryens.   Is   that   true,   my   Prince?"   If   that   was   the   case,   Myrcella   would   gladly   remain   at   a   safe   proper   distance   from   the   creatures.  

She   had   not   desire   to   burn   from   dragonfire   simply   because   she   was   too   reckless   to   think   the   creature   would   like   her.   Perhaps   it   would   think   of   her   as   a   good   hearted   girl,   or   perhaps,   it   would   know   her   family's   history   and   intentions   and   think   ill   of   her.   Either   way,   emerald   eyes   look   over,   as   her   hands   rest   at   the   crook   of   her   back.   "Do   they   have   friends   in   the   Pit?" @lcerys

[roseguided]

@lcerys ASKED, “ 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒎𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈… 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕? ” (𝒕𝒐 𝒗𝒊𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒚𝒂)

𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐈𝐓 𝐁𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐔𝐍𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅 onto her brother ? her brother who has grief of his own, anger of his own, regrets of his own. they’re all suffering this loss, they’re all feeling it, so why place more on his shoulders ? lucerys might argue that he’s her brother, it was his job, but visenya didn’t feel it was right. holding it is wasn’t either, but what other choice did she have ? ( it was her who wore the crown now. her who the realm looked toward for the future—a woman sitting the iron throne after a bloody civil war over the same thing. the only difference is there was no one else alive left to take it & she’d promised aegon follow her upon her death. ) body faces outward toward the ocean, a breeze ruffling her hair. for a moment she doesn’t turn, visenya can’t see the look in luke’s eyes yet. ; the need to appear strong, despite not being it in any way right now, pressed into the back of her mind . . she is the first ruling queen in her own name, she cannot be seen as weak for vultures would come for her ! ❛ what would you have me tell you, brother ? ❜ she asks, voice tired. turning, visenya faces him & eyes are just as tired. ❛ that i wish it had been me & not mother ? how i begged aegon to take me instead ? ❜ it will haunt her forever. jaw clenched: ❛ this crown should be mothers, not mine. i-i . . have to be strong now, i cannot be seen as weak. they would take any opportunity to kill me to put aegon in my stead. he is but a boy, not ready to be king. ❜ words run together a little as if the idea of aegon not having her, or any of them, was near panic inducing.

[forgaeven1]

her head remains bowed.

if her brother had witnessed this, he would have shook himself with fury; he would have demanded, quite justly, of respect to be shown with which house martell deserves  — they are the folks who do not bend, after all. they are the unbowed, the unbroken. but he is not here. he has not been with her since neith had been sent to king's landing; the last memory neith had had of qoren martell was his fierce brown eyes, breaking apart as he holds her for the last time. he had spoken in their mixed language of rhoynar and common tongue, telling her to be careful. to call for him, for anything she may need.

she has, and yet dorne remains stubborn from siding with any faction as the rest of the seven kingdoms break, and burn, under targaryen's hefty thumbs. neith likes to believe she does not resent them, that she is not capable of unreasonable resentment, the sort she had seen her ancestors passed from one generation to the next. when she had arrived in king's landing, bright-eyed and young, years ago, she had naively thought that their houses could be joined; these children of the dragons and her, a daughter of the sand, could be friends. it would have been the beginning of a new teaching, of a new age.

the slaughter of prince jaehaerys changed that.

she does not resent. she does not want to, but neith's eyes remain on the floor. her voice is mechanical, cold. she used to dance through these halls once; her queen helaena, then princess, had clapped along, joyous, despite the foreign beat and rhythm neith had represented. they were girls together, however briefly. those are gone now, as well, with her queen on spikes. ❛ — your side have won. will you spare the princess jaehaera ? ❜

@lcerys — starter call

[ladiestorms]

"don't feel too disappointed with the outcome of this meeting. my father was not likely to change his mind and it seems it was already made up even before prince aemond arrived." while her grandfather had no complaints about a woman sitting on the iron throne, her father has always had much to say about it. no woman needs to be in such a powerful position, ellyn could almost hear him scoff. ironic, considering how he'd named her eldest sister his heir.

"i..." she starts, then abruptly stops herself. there was an apology on her tongue but letting it out would have been some sort of betrayal. house baratheon had chosen its side and that meant she did, too.

@lcerys ! starter call.

[isefyres-archive]

@lcerys asked: And you, lady? Are you a woman of conscience or of ambition? (to larra)

She   almost   does   not   understand   him.   She   had   resisted   to   learn   the   common   tongue   of   Westeros   even   when   she   arrived   to   the   realm.   She   was   almost   forced   upon   it   when   Viserys   had   told   her   so,   but   still,   all   she   can   think   of   is   how   it   lacks   tact.   But   the   boy   surely   knows   Valyrian,   does   he   not?   So   instead,   she   decides   to   speak   in   that,   a   common   ground   having   found.  

"Conscience   does   not   exist   in   a   war,   Young   Prince.   Are   women   creatures   of   ambition   or   made   so   by   their   father's."   Lys   are different.   Women   have   more   freedom   but   here,   she   is   looked   like   a   wild   creature,   down   to   the   clothes   she   wears,   and   what   she   refuses   or   not   to   eat   and   listen   to.   If   she   had   decided,   perhaps   she   would   have   not   taken   Viserys   as   a   husband,   she   would've   taken   a   Lyseni   Prince   and   remain   home.   Her   family   had   other   ideas,   and   despite   herself,   the   title   of   future   Queen   does   not   bother   her.   "Conscience   makes   men   dead   when   war   is   waged.   Lyseni   men   know   this,   do   Westerosi?"   

[mvndrvke]

@lcerys gets a starter! ft. joffrey

Everything feels like it's escalated so quickly. Joffrey doesn't entirely understand what's going on, but he knows his brothers seem ready to jump on dragonback and leave Dragonstone without him. Joffrey hears some talk of it, that they're going to be messengers, not soldiers, but he gets chased off by one of his mother's ladies.

By the time he goes to Lucerys' room, he sees his brother is preparing his things.

"Take me with you," he implores quietly, walking into the room and sitting on Lucerys' bed, staring at him. "I want to come with you."

[zobriezalarys]

“proper   training   is   key,   it   allows   one   to   accomplish   a   great   deal."   dark   sister   rest   by   his   front,   hands   resting   at   the   hilt   as   he   looks   down   at   his   stepson,   a   smile   forming   on   his   lips.   he   would   entrust   training   to   the   guards   and   knights   but   with   lucerys,   rhaenyra   had   suggested   a   more   personal   approach.   he   had   been   against   it,   aware   that   he   might   not   go   soft   on   the   young   man   but   perhaps   it   would   be   the   best.   "I   am   sure   you   would   prefer   not   to   draw   a   sword   at   all,   but   in   these   times,   one   can   never   be   to   sure,   or   simply   hope   arrax   is   around."

  a   short   pause   as   eyes   fall   on   the   hill   above   them,   caraxes'   atop   of   it   seems   interested   in   watching   the   change   while   arrax   remains   on   the   side   as   well.   "and,   the   stronger   you   get,   the   stronger   arrax   will   get   as   well.   the   bond   will   grow   stronger.   to   a   point   you   might   consider   yourself   a   dragon   at   times."   more   than   just   in   the   sense   of   their   blood   being   that   of   valyria.   when   he   is   injured,   caraxes   feels   it.   "have   you   noticed   how   when   your   mother   is   with   child   so   is   syrax?   that   deep   is   their   bond.   same   goes   with   strength." @lcerys

[nvrqn-a]

@lcerys, lucerys velaryon.

" we all have our demons. it comes with dragon blood, i suppose. "

[darlingflight]

@lcerys liked for a starter

——— ❛ I'M GOING TO STOW AWAY on one of those ships. ❜ she pointed out towards the harbor. her tone was playful, a jest, not serious about running away . . . mostly. ❛ only i've got to decide which one to take. that one there looks like it'd be the easiest to sneak on to, but it's only going to king's landing. but the one behind it is sailing to dorne and the other that's still loading cargo, that one's headed for braavos! only both of them have lots of people watching, so i don't know how i'd get on board. ❜

[asshaid]

@lcerys asked: Like most modern people, I don’t believe in prophecy or magic.

"There   is   nothing   modern   about   that,   Your   Grace.   How   come   someone   who   has   the   blood   of   the   dragon   thinks   magic   is   not   real?   When   magic   is   the   reason   your   family   can   share   a   bond   with   dragons."   The   red   priestess   speaks   in   a   fact,   amused   at   best   at   how   the   young   man   seems   so   convinced   that   magic   is   not   real,   or   at   least,   they   do   not   believe   in   it   (   melisandre's   whole   existence   is   magical   on   itself,   blood   of   a   lost   empire   and   magic   so   dark   even   her   lord   of   light   closes   his   eyes   at   her   magic   ).  

Pale   red   eyes   stare   back   to   the   prince,   lips   curved   into   a   knowing   smile,   as   if   she   knows   all   of   the   secrets   of   the   world   under   her   gaze.   She   hopes   he   feels   it,   the   piercing   judgment   coming   from   her.   "Magic   is   around   all   of   us.   A   wise   man   would   have   respect   for   it."

[roseguided]

𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐎𝐍 𝐈𝐓 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐒 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓, 𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐘𝐀 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒.  did her brother think the same, what were his last moments before it all went dark ?  for a moment, she questioned if this was really her brother standing beside her on the beach of their home or a version of him she wished to be here. if this was her afterlife then she knew he’d be here. . . just like her other siblings, her mother, but she’s seen none of them yet.  just lucerys.  visenya won't question it, she won’t will anything else into existence—not if that means him not being here. but, he is,  &  in this she finds some shred of peace.    (   maybe she sees only him in this moment because witnessing, feeling,  his death lead into everything else.  all of her anger, her grief, her killing that lead her to her death. all of it started with lucerys.   ) 

@lcerys said,  “ WERE YOU AFRAID ? “ 

It takes her a moment to respond. the way violet eyes stare off into the distance, water lapping against bare feet, makes her seem lost in thought.  sister takes in a deep breath, not looking over at her brother yet.  ❛ i was, at the end. ❜   the blood, the pain, the fear is all gone now. she’s whole  &  herself again here.   ❛ i tried to be brave like my father would’ve wanted me, to face death head on. ❜ visenya hadn’t cared if she died when she was consumed with so much feeling, but that she got a warriors death. that she died fighting.   ❛ but, in the end, all I wanted was my mother. ❜ tears well easily,  ❛ to hold my hand, to tell me it was going to be alright. ❜   where is she, is she here ?