Fishtails and Dragonscales
The boy was unconscious when he hit the choppy water and for a moment Haedus contemplated letting him continue sinking. Bubbles burst from his gills as he sighed and swam upwards pulling the boy back to the surface and towards the nearby Sapphire Isle, or as the manfolk called it according to his Papa, Tarth. The boy, who was clearly manfolk, smelled as though he belonged to the sea, as though he had the Ocean Blood in him. He brought the manfolk boy up onto the sand wincing when the sand scratched over his scales uncomfortably. The boy wore half of some kind of covering that covered his lower limbs. The tiny white grains of rock slowly turned red as the manfolk boy slowly bled from the deep wound on his side. Haedus cursed his empathy as he dove back into the water to gather an armful of brown seaweed he could use to pack the wound. He often used seaweed to wrap the wounds he occasionally got when hunting the big white sharks or the black and white whales that were tasty eats.
He packed the manfolk boy’s wounded side best he could before going through the uncomfortable and slightly painful process of shifting his tail into two awkward limbs. He hated it. He much preferred his gorgeous tail. The base scales were an iridescent green with small spacklings of blue scales. The fan of his tail was a gradient of a darker green blue where it attached to the scale of his tail to a very light colored green at the edges of the fan. The light color caught the sunlight when he was close to the surface making it seem almost seethrough and each of his scales glittered elegantly. In contrast, his manfolk legs were ugly. He felt clumsy and gangly and his reproductive organs were freely dangling between them instead of tucked in within a protective sheath. But he couldn’t drag the boy further up the beach out of the grasp of the soon to be rising tide without the stupid pale manfolk limbs.
The manfolk boy lay on the beach unconscious for two days, Haedus carefully building a leafy lean to shield the manfolk boy from the cruel rays of the sun. Haedus gently cleaned the manfolk boy’s wound three times a day with fresh sea water before repacking it with the brown seaweed to stave off infection. He cracked coconuts and dug into the nut with a rock to gently pour the milk into the manfolk boy’s mouth, massaging his throat to ensure he swallowed before eating the white nut meat himself. Strangely the dark color of the manfolk boy's hair seemed to be leeching away at the roots turning a similar color to the coconut meat. Perhaps it was a thing that happened to manfolk, Haedus wouldn’t know, he had not surfaced near manfolk very often. Nonetheless the manfolk boy was alive and the longer he remained so the likelier he would wake.
Slowly the pallid coloring of the manfolk boy began to warm and Haedus expected that he would soon wake. He entered the sea again shifting, something that was becoming smoother and less painful every time he did it and searched the shallows where the small stream that flowed from Tarth’s small mountains flowed into the sea for oysters. The manfolk boy would likely be hungry when he woke, and when he was just a little fish his papa had always made him eat oysters after getting an injury.
The memory of his papa was a little hazy after all this time since his passing at the hands of a great golden kraken, when Haedus was only six and ten, nearly nine and sixty years ago, but he still remembered little things about him. He remembered that just as his papa, who had been named for a star, one of the brightest in the sky; Sirius, so too had Haedus. He remembered the black curls that both of them shared, most especially in the way that they both had to braid them most firmly to keep them from becoming too wild and knotted as they flowed freely with the currents. Sometimes, when he lay in the warm waters of the shallows, eyes closed as he curled and drifting nearly to sleep he even thought he could remember the sound of his papa’s voice as he sang him sweet lullabies when Haedus was still a tadpole growing in his papa’s pouch. He brushed sad and nostalgic memories away and tucked more oysters into his kelp pouch bag. He gathered for no more than a half hour, finding nearly thirty oysters in total that were ready to be harvested before surfacing once more.
The manfolk boy was awake but not quite yet aware and Haedus had to gently pour more of the coconut water into the manfolk boy’s throat, helping him sit up. Haedus pulled away and began to clean the gathered oysters by pouring seawater, with the help of a hollowed out coconut into his bag and vigorously stirring before dumping the water and repeating until no more sand was poured out with the water. The manfolk boy, who had yet to speak, watched him as he pried open each oyster with one of his whalebone knives, removing the meat and into a makeshift bowl made from coconut shell. Nearly every oyster had two or three pearls, all of which he removed and placed in one of the pouches of his bandolier. He could use them to make himself more decorative jewelry later.
In Lucerys’ view, Haedus’ hair was already decorated with many strings of white and gold pearls that wove in and out of the many braids that pulled his hair back before falling freely down his back. He also wore a circlet, one his papa had painstakenly carved from a single large piece of green serpentine. His ears were pierced by carved whalebone inset with light green olivine and shiny abalone. He wore a neck piece, also made from carved whale bone that curved with his body to look almost as though it was caressing the contours. He had more strings of pearls around his waist, nearly all of them golden or white in color, though a few at a closer glance had an almost pink hue. On his upper arms he wore carved armlets of green and pink speckled ocean jasper. At his back, used both for fighting and hunting was a trident, the reddish wood that formed the shaft, weathered but seeming almost more solid from its near constant exposure to water the head of three pronged points forged underwater at a lava vein, was made of star metal that fell into the ocean when his papa was still a fishling himself.He was truly a prince of the sea, even if he was unrepentantly naked as a babe from the womb.
“Where am I?” the manfolk boy asked, as Haedus approached with the oyster meat. His manfolk voice was almost harsh to Haedus’ ears despite its boyish tenor.
“Sapphire Isle,” Haedus answered, voice smooth and burbling like a gentle stream pouring over rocks. The mer knelt beside where the manfolk boy sat and took an oyster between his fingers to press it to the manfolk boy’s lips. “Eat,” Haedus said, simply. The manfolk boy seemed to draw himself up before he opened his mouth, perhaps to complain but Haedus didn’t let him, pushing the sea salted meat into his mouth. The manfolk boy was forced to chew and Haedus was ready with another and another each time his mouth was empty, until the manfolk boy finally turned his head letting Haedus know he was full. The rest of the oysters would not go to waste, as Haedus plopped one in his mouth, sharp teeth easily tearing through the meat.
“Sapphire Isle? That’s Tarth right? Of the Stormlands? I need to get to Dragonstone, the Stormlords can’t be trusted. I need to get to my mother,” the manfolk boy said. “I don’t know how long it’s been since I fell, I must let her know that I’m alright. Do you know how long I was in the water?”
“I saw you fall into the water,” Haedus said, plopping another oyster in his mouth. “It was two days ago now. I pulled you out and brought you here. Packed your wounds.” The manfolk boy’s hand went to his side as though just realizing he was wounded. Perhaps part of it was the wound was well cleaned and packed with the medicinal seaweed Haedus had gathered. There was very little pain, and the wound had not festered. Haedus tilted his head confused. “What is mother?”
The manfolk boy explained the concept of women and men to Haedus whose entire species was one gender. The young manfolk boy then had to go on to explain marriage to the merman. His species mated when members of the lowly populated solitary race on rare occasions came across one another in the vastness that was the world's oceans and felt like it. Only the one bearing the child had any responsibility for the child, and usually only for the first twenty or so years before the child, now fully grown, went on their own way. Haedus finished off the last of the oysters as he listened to the manfolk boy who smelled of the Ocean Blood. Now that he was awake he was the most interesting thing that Haedus had ever seen in his five and eighty years.
The manfolk boy, Lucerys was insistent that he needed to get to Dragonstone, or as Haedus knew it, Deep Fire Rock Isle, but Haedus though strong did not feel that he was strong enough to carry the manfolk boy all the way to Dragonstone so he bribed a young bottlenose with the meat of several clams to carry Lucerys whilst Haedus led the way. It took nearly two weeks, keeping close to the coast so that Lucerys could rest on land, closer than Haedus usually went for long periods of time before they could see Dragonstone in the distance. They approached the isle from the south west, aiming for the low wide beach where there seemed to be a bonfire of sorts. The young bottlenose couldn’t get very far into the shallows so Haedus helped Lucerys get to the beach, and as a result most especially after their speedy travels was too tired to immediately shift so he lay in the shallow waters upon the wet sand. People, those who had been gathered around the bonfire, raced towards them as Lucerys slowly stood. Haedus winced as the harsh manfolk voices in tones he wasn’t used to, hit his ears.
“Lucerys!” A rather plump manfolk screamed and moved swiftly across the wet sands towards Lucerys.
“Mother!” Lucerys screamed back making it three steps before his mother was crashing into him, manfolk dressed in white and silver only a few steps behind one of them wrapping their cape around Lucerys. A gaggle of littler manfolk wearing mostly red and black like Lucerys’ mother also approached, hugging Lucerys and chittering, almost incessantly, exclaiming most often over the color of his hair. A tall manfolk, one wearing almost completely black drew his blade to point it at Haedus. If he were a little deeper in the water Haedus would have slipped away without care, but he was too shallow and too tired from the trip. Still he slapped his tale against the wet sand threateningly and bared his razor sharp teeth even as he shrunk away from the blade.
“Kepus please,” Lucerys said, putting himself between Haedus and the tall manfolk. Haedus saved me. He pulled me from the waters in the Straits of Tarth and healed me before bringing me here. “Haedus please change, you’re safe here I promise,” Lucerys said. Haedus hissed at Lucerys’ Kepus and let the change come over him, hissing again, this time in discomfort as his bare manfolk legs formed.
Lucerys helped Haedus stand, the mer of the same height as the manfolk boy. Lucerys removed the white cloak that had been wrapped around him and wrapped it around Haedus concealing his nakedness. It took some convincing by Lucerys but Haedus agreed to allow himself to be hosted in Dragonstone so long as he was allowed regular access to the sea.
A feast was to be thrown that night, in honor of Prince Lucerys and the mythological creature that had brought him home. Haedus was brought into the Dragonstone Keep, scrubbed clean of sea salt and dressed, appropriately, or at least semi appropriately to Westerosi standards. House Velayrion had provided him with clothing, the Sea Snake having had light silks and soft muslin from trade with the Summer Isles that wouldn’t irritate his skin as Haedus had bluntly refused the beautifully dyed cotton, and wool clothing that he’d been offered initially. The cloth was all dyed blue, not quite the light sea blue distinctive of the Velaryon banner, but a soft nearly white blue that almost matched Haedus’ skin tone.
The loose bohemian style pants were unrestrictive as was the shirt. To be honest the shirt was barely able to be called such. Haedus had found the structured fabric constrictive over his chest and where the neckline touched his sensitive gills that he’d outright refused every shirt, hissing and baring his teeth when the manservant dressing him had tried to insist. The compromise was a sort of toga wrap top that bared his back and hung loosely. It had the effect of making Haedus more ethereal than his pale blue skin already did. His hair had been brushed out, though Haedus had refused to allow the maids to braid it, doing it himself. Hair braiding in his culture was an intimate thing, done only by one’s Papa or siblings, or later in life, a favored lover.
Jewelry was provided for him to choose from, supposedly from Lucerys’ Mother’s own collection, the manfolk in question being a Ceann-cinnidh or rather in manfolk terms, a Queen. Haedus had declined, gifted jewelry was similar to braids, given only by family or lovers. He redid the pearls in his hair, gold and white dotting the braided mass of hair so black, that in the sunlight it had a blue tint in the light along with the serpentine carved circlet, more loops of his pearls decorated the toga top, and his his armlets were used to hold a gauzy blue seethrough shawl in place giving him an even more feminine air than his delicate features and the rest of his outfit already did. He rejected the attempt by the maids to add darkening paint to his eyelashes or red pigment to his cheeks or lips. His cheekbones already had a shimmer to them from the tiny white blue scales that dusted them. He needed no blush. His green eyes were bright enough no matter what the maids said. Once they were all finished Haedus was led to the high table of the great hall of Dragonstone Keep.
“You’re pretty,” one of the little white haired manfolk who was one of Lucerys’ brothers said crawling into Haedus’ lap as he sat.
“Aegon,” the manfolk mother scolded, reaching for her son. “Lord Haedus is our guest, be polite.”
“But Muna,” Aegon protested, pressing in closer to Haedus to escape his mother’s arms. Instinctively Haedus put his arms around the manfolk child.
“It’s okay,” Haedus said, his voice musically smooth. “I don’t mind.” Haedus smiled down at the manfolk boy before flinching in surprise when the little child suddenly reached in his mouth to touch his teeth.
“You have dragon teeth too! Me and Kepa have sharp teeth too see?” The little manfolk showed off his own sharp teeth. Haedus was surprised. He didn’t know manfolk could have shark teeth, even the offspring of the more surface dwelling Sirens of Sothoryos and manfolk didn’t often have sharp teeth.
“You have Ocean Blood,” Haedus said before sniffing Aegon’s hair. “Not as much as your brother but some. Lucerys has the most Ocean Blood of all manfolk I’ve met. Though I suppose the Sirenbirthed manfolk of Sothoryos might have more,” Haedus added.
“What about us?” two little manfolk, Lucerys’ sisters if he remembered correctly from earlier. Haedus tilted his head, his gills fluttering dryly as he sniffed, mouth open slightly as he tasted the different flavors in the air.
“Some, not as much as Lucerys,” Haedus said eventually. “There is too much flame in you both, it burns away the salt and sea. That one,” Haedus nodded towards Jacaerys, Lucerys’ older brother, is of green earth and flame just as the other of dark hair, and the two little ones are nearly pure flame, but for a subtle scent of sea salt,” Haedus’ answer seemed to charge the room with an energy that he was unaware, the true origins of.
It was nearly a week later, while in Dragonstone’s great hall, that Haedus was involved in saving another member on this branch of the Targaryen branching coral. Haedus had met most of the important men and women currently on Dragonstone, including the Princess Rhaenys, who smelled a mix of fire and something piney, and Lord Corlys Velaryon, grandfather to the manfolk boy, Lucerys, who smelled even more strongly of Ocean Blood than Lucerys had. So when someone who looked very similar to another manfolk he had seen regularly over the past seven days, but smelled just subtly different, he instinctively knew something was wrong. His trident was in his hands in seconds and pointed at the manfolk’s chest.
“Stad!” Haedus said, before switching back to the common. “Stop!”
“You do not command a Kings..Queensguard,” the man said hand on his sword hilt, correcting himself at the last second. Haedus’ interference had drawn the attention of Lord Celtigar and several of Dragonstone’s men at arms.
“Lord Haedus,” Lord Celtigar began, “Understanding that you are not familiar with societal expectations of Westeros but you should not interfere with Ser Erryk’s duties to Queen Rhaenyra.” Haedus’ trident did not lower.
“This man is not Ser Erryk, I have never smelt him before, but there is the scent of rotted grapes and fermented barley covering his natural scent of peaches and leaves.” Haedus said, pressing the points of his trident into the silvery metal of the manfolk man’s armour. Queen Rhaenyra and the aforementioned ser Erryk who was guarding her, entered the great hall.
“Brother!” Ser Erryk shouted, shifting to stand in front of the Queen and drawing his blade. Ser Erryk’s brother pushed away from Haedus’ trident and drew his own sword. Realizing that two brothers were about to fight one another, Haedus threw himself at the brother using the shaft of his trident to deflect the slash of the man’s blade. He would not let another become a kinslayer if he could help it.
The man was good, very good. Haedus had the disadvantage of having only fought while having legs in friendly spars for the past week, but he had the advantage of many years of wielding his trident for everything from the occasional fight with a siren, to hunting down a particularly clever whale or shark. He was also stronger, and faster, used to fighting and moving against the resistance of the ocean water and its currents. He managed to evade every blow even delivering a few of his own, though not one landed. He tripped as he stepped back to evade a powerful diagonal upper chop, landing on his ass hard and would have likely lost his head if Ser Erryk hadn’t blocked the blow.
“Brother,” the word was almost sobbed by Ser Erryk, “Arryk please, stop this madness.”
“I cannot brother,” Ser Arryk said, his tone was sad as well. “I serve my King.” They swung almost together, like mirror images of one another, and Haedus had to scramble away, still on his ass, to avoid being struck. Using the wall Haedus got back to his feet just in time to see the brothers land mortal blows on one another. Queen Rhaenyra sobbed beside where Haedus stood as the brothers died in one another's arms.
Haedus decided that earthwalking, as interesting as the experience, had been was far too dangerous and he would be returning to the seas where he was truly at home. He left Dragonstone with unfortunately a far larger fanfare than he wanted. Thankfully King Consort Daemon had left Dragonstone two days previous, as the man was intimidating just to be standing near. The feast being held was in honor of both Haedus who would be returning to the seas that were his home and for the Princess Rhaenys who would be answering Lord Staunton’s plea for help at Rook’s Rest.
Since the feast was at least partially in Haedus’ honor many of the dishes served were those he had been noted by the servants and cooks to have favored whilst staying on Dragonstone. Sliced figs and orange wedges drizzled with honey and balsamic vinegar, raw oysters served with lemon juice, and baked mussels in a creamy sauce were the three dishes he most indulged on finding the other sea food dishes, such as the baked tuna, and such, too spiced or too cooked. Manfolk apparently did not have the constitution to subsist on raw fish like an Ocean Blood Mer.
After the feast Haedus went back to his guest rooms to change back into his ocean clothing. Manfolk and their restrictive modesty sensibilities had no place within the seas, and a week among them did not change that for Haedus. A knock sounded at his door and he called out that whomever it was could enter without care for his half naked nature.
“Oh!” Lucerys said, as Haedus turned. The heavy wooden door of Haedus’ guest rooms closed heavily behind the manfolk boy on the cusp of adulthood. Lucerys had experienced a surge of growth in the week since Haedus and him had come to Dragonstone. It was almost as though the traumatic experience of losing a dragonbond and dancing with death had sped up the physical changes in the boy’s body. He was nearly two inches taller than he’d been when Haedus had first pulled him from the Straits of Tarth. His white gold curls, once a deep chestnut brown, had lengthened until he had to tie them back from his face. Haedus had gifted young Lucerys with a strand of his pearls, one with mostly gold pearls, and the boy currently had it woven into the braids that were styled to look like a princely circlet on the top of his head.
“What can I do for you before I go, Prince Lucerys?” Haedus asked.
“You’re leaving tonight?” Lucerys asked. “I thought you’d be here until the ‘morrow.”
“The sea calls,” Haedus answered. “And I miss it just as much as it misses me.” Lucerys burst suddenly, wrapping his arms around Haedus.
“I’ll miss you as well,” Lucerys whispered his cheek on Haedus’ chest. “Thank you, again for saving my life.” Haedus let his arms come up around Lucerys’ back and pulled away slightly.
“I will miss you as well,” Haedus whispered as he looked down, only half a foot at the boy’s now five nine form instead of a nearly full foot that it used to be. The moment was charged with something that burned. Then Lucerys surged up to kiss Haedus and the Mer was lost in the passion. The Mer left early the next morn, slipping off before he would be required to say any more goodbyes, or possibly explain why one of the Queen’s eldest sons was in his room.
It was nearly six weeks before he saw a Targaryen again, but two weeks was enough time to realize his parting with Lucerys had left him with a gift. Blood, thick and ironfilled drew the shark he was tracking into ship filled waters and normally Haedus would have immediately fled the area but the sight of a gray purple dragon’s egg sinking quickly through the currents spurred him into action. That was little Viserys’ egg. In no time he’d grasped it and put it into his oyster pouch before surging upwards all but slicing through the water towards the ship it had fallen from. He remembered little from the fight except for the fact that he was unable to shift for fear of harming the little tadpole within as he landed on the deck using the slick wooden surface to move around as he killed sailor and mercenary indiscriminately in between him and the crying Viserys. He saw little Aegon gripping baby Stormcloud, the dragon struck by an arrow but still carrying on in the distance. Jacaerys was covering his baby brother's retreat while another rider, this one on a humongous black dragon with vibrant green eyes, began burning all ships that Viserys and consequently Haedus was not aboard. It didn’t take long to realize that the dragon rider was Lucerys, his one time lover having claimed a new dragon.
Haedus managed to grab Viserys taking a deep cut to his side when he turned at the last second to protect the pouch his little tadpole grew within, and dove into the waters, carefully holding Viserys’ mouth and nose closed to prevent the boy from swallowing water as he traveled them underwater for a solid half minute before resurfacing. He repeated the move several times giving the boy only a few moments to catch his breath before diving again. All around them bodies and boats sank to the floor of the sea. Some, like most of those wearing Targaryen and Velaryon colors, were bleeding. The boarding of the Velaryon fleet had not been a bloodless one. Others were burning, a result of Lucerys’ new dragon’s flames. They reached the shore of Dragonstone, not far from where Haedus had once dragged Lucerys. Across the bay ships burned and men screamed.
The black dragon landed on the beach with a crash and the Queen, her Kingsguard and Council alike raced onto the beach all giving a wide berth to the dragon that Lucerys was dismounting. The maester, Maester Gerardys whom Haedus had only met briefly when the man had asked him a few questions on sea remedies was just behind them, moving incredibly quickly for a man of his age. The two young Prince’s were fine but it was clear to see that Aegon’s young dragon, Stormcloud was gravely wounded and dragonkeepers hurried to rush him off to care. It was then that Haedus popped Viserys’ egg from his bag and handed it back to the boy.
“Lord Haedus, House Targaryen finds itself in your debt once again,” the Queen began. Haedus didn’t hear what else she said as the wooziness of blood loss finally caught up with him, the wound on his side still freely bleeding. He woke up laying underwater within a massive dragonglass tub. Massive enough that it fit his entire body and tail with space to spare. His hand went first to the pouch of his belly as he listened for the heartbeat he knew should be there. He sighed in relief when he heard the steady fluttering beat and felt the gentle eddying movement in his pouch.
“You are awake,” Maester Gerardys said, and Haedus turned his head to see the older man, dressed in his gray robes and lengthy chain enter the room, apprentice beside him. “Let us see how the wound on your side is healing first then we can call for the Queen.” The maester had gentle hands as he gently checked the wound that he had presumably been the one to stitch closed. “It seems to be healing well, despite the fact that you’ve been unconscious for nearly three days. The bath water has been changed twice a day, always with sea water as we suspected that due to your condition,” the man shifted his hand as though to touch his pouch and Haedus hissed in warning. The man moved his hand away in understanding before continuing his words as though nothing had happened. “It was necessary as you didn’t seem to shift. Were we correct?” Haedus’ answer was returned through his teeth. Though he knew that the question was asked for the sake of knowledge and to help him it only reminded him just how vulnerable he currently was and how close he’d come to losing his little tadpole.
“Yes, it was correct. I am unable to shift without harming my child,” Haedus said.
“Very well,” the maester seemed unconcerned with his somewhat hostile reactions. “I will call for the Queen and arrange for your water to be changed at noon hour.”
The Queen was quick to come, and she was not alone. Viserys and Aegon along with Jacaerys, Baela, Rhaena and Lucerys had all come into the room.
“Your Grace,” the maester and his assistant echoed and bowed at the Queen’s entrance. A flick of her fingers had them rising.
“How is he?” the Queen answered, and it almost offended Haedus at the way she asked the manfolk man rather than himself, only he hadn’t been the one to stitch his own wound and he was rather tired, and hungry.
“He is well despite his injury,” the Maester said. “Though I know little of um, the physiology of his other condition, everything seems well in that regard as well.” The Queen turned to Haedus himself.
“You are pregnant,” she stated. Haedus bared his teeth momentarily before remembering himself.
“Yes,” he answered simply.
“Is it mine?” Lucerys burst out before his mother could speak further. All heads in the room whipped around to look at the young prince, with the exception of Viserys and Aegon who were both leaning over the side of the tub to look at his tail. Viserys was even brave enough to gently run his fingers over the warm scale.
“It is mine,” Haedus stated simply. The sire never had anything to do with raising a Mer and that would not change unless his half manfolk babe was unable to survive beneath the waves.
Haedus was not allowed to leave Dragonstone, and since he was unable to shift he could do little to waylay the order. The war nearly entirely passed with him on Dragonstone unable to leave. Lucerys and Daemon avenged the Princess Rhaenys above Harrenhall, together defeating the last of the conquerors' dragons. Daemon lost an arm and nearly his life in the process, and Caraxes had perished. Haedus had been carried, within a wooden tub onto a ship when Rhaenyra and her sons and daughters took King’s Landing for their own, and despite how easy it would have been to slip across the deck into the ocean, it would seem the Queen anticipated the likelihood of that happening and posted several guards around his tub at all hours. Haedus heard later that when Queen Rhaenyra had moved on King’s Landing, her brother and usurper had attempted to flee with the help of his allies on a ship bound for Dragonstone.
Jacaerys and Baela together had put a swift end to that by returning to Dragonstone and burning the ship as it attempted to port. The usurper and Aemond were no more. The Greens attempted to raise Daeron as King but with only a singular dragon available to them, Tessarion as Helaena and Dreamfyre were now under Queen Rhaenyra’s control, the Lords of the Greens with the exception of the Hightowers capitulated to the rightful Queen’s rule. Daeron attempted a daring rescue of his sister, niece and mother from the Red Keep but it was put down with the combined efforts of Baela, Jacaerys and Lucerys and their dragons. Cannibal, Lucerys new dragon after the death of Arrax devoured the fallen Tessarion where he had fallen near the dragonpit. It was then that the stupidity of the so-called Shepherd and those who followed his teachings was burned to ash. A mob of riled smallfolk attempted to storm the dragonpit at his direction but they were swiftly burned and devoured by Cannibal who happily gorged on their remains. By the point of the official end of the war, Haedus was nearly eight and a half moons along with his pregnancy, the whole of the court and most of the nobles of the kingdom knew of him and the child he carried even if he was not to wed Prince Lucerys.
“I need to be in the sea,” Haedus begged as he had many times before.
“I can’t,” Lucerys whispered. “Mother and Daemon would know the moment I commanded any to carry your tub to the ocean and stop me.”
“They plan to take my child,” Haedus said.
“It is mine too,” Lucerys tried to remind Haedus.
“We would visit, but we belong to the sea,” Haedus begged again. “Please, I grow weaker away from the sea. The water in my tub is the barest minimum. I beg of you, not for myself but for the child we’ve made. Return us to the sea.” Lucerys bit his lip thinking.
“I can try, but it will have to be on dragonback,” Lucerys answered. “How long can you remain outside of the water?”
“Ten minutes perhaps,” Haedryn said. “No longer lest my scales begin to dry out.”
“Very well,” Lucerys said as he moved to bar the door of the rooms. “I will call for Cannibal.”
Shouts of alarm sounded as Cannibal flew over the Red Keep to latch himself on the wall beside Haedus’ rooms. Knocking and then banging as someone began trying to break down the door could be heard and Lucerys lifted Haedus from the tub. Haedus groaned as he felt his pouch ripple with the first contraction.
“Hurry, the babe is coming,” Haedus hissed. Cannibal held surprisingly steady as Lucerys mounted him, Haedus still in his arms. The black dragon launched himself from the wall of the Red Keep just in the nick of time, King Consort Daemon shouts of rage being lost to the sounds of Cannibal’s flapping wings. Lucerys flew them to where the Wendwater of the Kingswood poured out into the Blackwater Bay. It was not the most ideal place to give birth, though it was cleaner than the waters directly at the port of King’s Landing.
Haedus clutched at one of the stones that peaked out of the water at the small beach as he screamed through the birthing pains, floating belly down. Lucerys stood in the waist deep water beside him rubbing his back, unable to do anything more to help. It was always best to give birth near the shore in order to escape if a shark or black and white whale or other sea predator smelt the blood and afterbirth in the water and came hunting. It meant an easy escape even if it had its own dangers. Cannibal nestled down on the shoreline watching with curiosity. It was not a long birth, barely more than half an hour, though Syrax and Vermax were circling to land as Haedus gently cleaned the afterbirth from his precious child .
The babe was white haired just as his sire was, though when he opened his eyes just briefly before closing them again and nestling into Haedus, both he and Lucerys could see they were mismatched, being a vibrant sea green and a dark almost black purple. His scales were a dark purple slowly fading into a soft blue at the tip of his tail fins.
“Hydrus,” Haedus said. “His name is Hydrus.”
“He is beautiful,” Lucerys whispered gently, running a finger over the babe's nose even though Haedus held him underwater.
“Lucerys!” Jacaerys screamed as he splashed into the water trying to get to them.
“Thank-you,” Haedus whispered, surging from the water to press a kiss to Lucerys’ mouth before diving into the waters. It would be a year before Lucerys would see Haedus or their child again. Exactly a year later while walking the beach near the town of Hull, arm in arm with his new wife of a moon, Rhaena, Lucerys came across the sight of Haedus, in Mer form watching over a toddler who played, naked in human form in the tidepools. Every year until the day he died, Lucerys would come down to the beach to see his son and his one time lover, introducing his three sons and single daughter under the watchful eyes of his wife Rhaena to Hydrus and Haedus. The line of Haedus and Lucerys would continue when Rhaena and Lucerys’ youngest son, Corlys would bed Hydrus, and the young mer gave birth to little Sirius. Nearly every generation mer would mate with Velaryon and the line would continue on.