Bonds of Family
Chapter 6: Bonds of Family
The sun hung low in the sky as Lucerys and Jacaerys, along with their cousins Baela and Rhaena, snuck past the watchful eyes of Dragonstone’s attendants and made their way up the steep, rocky trail toward Dragonmont. The mountain was alive with the roars and growls of dragons, a sound that both exhilarated and unnerved them. Here, hidden amongst the steam and shadows of the volcanic peak, they felt an intoxicating freedom.
“Look at Vermax!” Jacaerys pointed to his dragon, whose massive body curled lazily in the warm rocky cove, dark scales shimmering in the light.
Baela grinned, her eyes gleaming with pride as her own dragon, Moondancer, nestled close by. “Moondancer is restless today,” she observed, running a hand along the dragon’s snout. “She loves it up here.”
Lucerys moved closer to Arrax, who snorted softly in response, nudging Luke with his snout. He smiled, feeling the bond strengthen between them, a sense of understanding flowing silently from dragon to rider.
Rhaena, however, stood slightly apart, watching the others with a mix of awe and envy. Her gaze drifted toward a nearby cave, where a soft, eerie sound echoed from the depths.
“What’s in there?” she murmured, her voice barely a whisper.
Baela followed her gaze, her expression playful. “Scared, Rhaena? It’s probably just the wind… or maybe something bigger.”
Rhaena shivered slightly. “It… it sounded like something alive.”
“Let’s come back another day,” Lucerys suggested, catching the unease in her tone. He looked at his younger cousin, a reassuring smile on his face. “No need to rush things, Rhaena. We’ll all have our dragons by our side soon enough.”
As they made their way back toward the keep, Baela paused and picked up a chunk of dragonglass glinting in the fading light. She held it up, admiring the way it caught the light. “Look at this! It’s beautiful.”
An idea sparked in Lucerys’s mind as he eyed the dark, glittering stone. “You know… that could be crafted into something more. Jewelry, maybe.” His voice held a hint of excitement. “Imagine wearing pieces of Dragonstone, our own legacy, for protection.”
Baela handed him the dragonglass with a smirk. “You think you can manage that, Luke?”
He grinned. “Why not?”
Later that evening, Lucerys shared his idea with his family. Laena, intrigued, mentioned that she knew of craftswomen in Pentos who could shape the dragonglass into intricate designs. “They’re experts in manipulating gems maybe we can invite some here to see the potential of dragonglass,” she explained. “I wonder if any of the builders of the glasshouses might know of anyone who would be interested.”
Jacaerys raised an eyebrow, impressed. “Think you can try to make something for me, Luke? A ring, perhaps?”
Lucerys nodded. “Leave it to me.”
Rhaenyra raised an eyebrow, impressed. “It could be more than just a family adornment. We could offer dragonglass jewelry as gifts to allies, symbols of our strength and legacy.
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Meanwhile, in King’s Landing, tensions were rising. With Jacaerys and Lucerys away, Aegon had turned his attention to his younger brother, Aemond. Aegon loomed over Aemond, his smirk filled with a twisted sort of glee.
“Without a dragon, you’re hardly a Targaryen at all, aren’t you?” Aegon taunted, his tone dripping with mockery. “Mother can coddle you all she likes, but what kind of prince doesn’t have a dragon?”
Aemond clenched his fists, his face flushed with anger. “I’ll get one,” he spat, his voice filled with a mix of frustration and determination.
“Oh? Going to steal one from the pit?” Aegon sneered. “Good luck with that. Not that any dragon would choose you.”
Aemond turned on his heel, storming out of the room. The queen had relaxed the guard on the dragon pit since Rhaenyra’s departure, so he saw his opportunity. That night, driven by the jeering echoes of his brother’s words, he made his way into the dragon pit alone. In the flickering torchlight, he approached Dreamfyre, whose large, tired eyes watched him warily. Without guards nearby, Aemond moved closer, hand trembling.
“Dreamfyre,” he murmured, voice laced with determination. But before he could take another step, the dragon let out a shrill, irritated growl, a warning he ignored. In a flash, a plume of fire burst from her mouth, engulfing him. The searing pain was instant, his skin burning as he stumbled backward, screaming.
Guards arrived moments too late, pulling him from the flames. Aemond’s body was covered in burns, the side of his face scarred—a brutal reminder of his failed attempt to claim a dragon.
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Back on Dragonstone, Lucerys worked on his dragonglass jewelry, exploring its magical potential. Using Visenya’s old potions room as his workshop, he experimented with the stone’s properties. He had begun reading through her notes, amazed by her knowledge and inspired to try his hand at creating potions and runes.
In one corner of the room lay ingredients—powdered dragon scales, Valyrian herbs, and mysterious vials of liquid. Carefully, Lucerys mixed a few drops here, crushed a few herbs there, and added a shard of dragonglass. Soon, he crafted a small collection: Pepper-Up Potion, Blood-Replenishing Draught, and a poison antidote potion.
He whispered to himself as he worked, “With these, I’ll protect my family.” He infused some of the dragonglass jewelry with runes for safety, his hands moving deftly over each piece.
When they inquired with the builders of those interested in jewelry. One of the wives of the builders who traveled with them knew some of the craft as she has learned from her mother. Until the other craftswomen from Pentos arrived, he shared his vision with her. “I want a bracelet for my grandfather, one that will have specific runes carved into,” Lucerys instructed. “Use dragonglass and Valyrian steel, with serpentine patterns.”
Asha, the craftswomen nodded, studying the design with approval. “An excellent choice, young prince. It will serve him well.”
Lucerys’s curiosity with the dragonglass shards grew beyond simple adornment. In the quiet hours, he began to experiment, testing their strange properties with a blend of concentration and intent. Draco, ever the voice of guidance, whispered suggestions, urging Lucerys to channel his energy into the shards.
He soon discovered that with careful focus, he could infuse the dragonglass with a part of himself—his thoughts, his power. When he showed Jace a piece he had crafted, his brother laughed. “It’s beautiful, but why the fuss?”
“It’s more than that,” Lucerys replied, his voice serious. “If you look closely, there’s… something else. A piece of us. Protection.” He pointed to faint runes carved along the edge, barely visible. “If we wear these, it could give us an advantage.”
Once Laena’s craftswomen arrived from Pentos, Lucerys enlisted their help to fashion these enchanted pieces. For his mother, he envisioned a necklace that would strengthen her resolve and guard against deception. For his grandfather Corlys, he requested a bracelet—one carved with the image of a water serpent, embedded with dragonglass and Valyrian steel, designed to ward off poison.
The finished pieces, each unique and tailored to their wearers, were presented to the family with a mixture of pride and reverence. Rhaenyra’s eyes softened as she touched her necklace, understanding the thoughtfulness that went into every detail. Corlys, in turn, studied his bracelet, impressed by the craftsmanship and the protective measures Lucerys had infused within it.
These creations became a symbol of their unity, a reminder of their shared purpose. As rumors of rising tensions in King’s Landing filtered back to them, they knew the time for action drew near.
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Later, Harwin Strong visited Dragonstone, his face marked with tension. He pulled Rhaenyra, Laenor, and Daemon aside, speaking in hushed tones. “Rumors of the boys’ illegitimacy are being spread,” he confessed. “Some are whispering in court, casting doubt on their Velaryon blood.”
Rhaenyra clenched her fists, her eyes flashing with anger. “It’s Alicent and the rest of the Hightowers,” she muttered. “They’ll do anything to weaken our claim.”
Daemon placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “There’s a way to put these rumors to rest.”
Rhaenyra looked at him curiously. “How?”
Daemon spoke, his voice low and intense. “An old Valyrian ceremony—the Fourteen Flames Rite. It’s a ritual that calls upon our ancestors to bless the lineage of trueborn children.”
Lucerys, listening intently, felt a surge of determination. He had been preparing something special for this moment—a potion, one he would slip into their cups during the ceremony, which would activate recessive traits within their bloodline. A touch of Targaryen fire mixed with Velaryon sea.
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The day of the ceremony arrived. The courtyard of Dragonstone was filled with bannermen from Driftmark and Dragonstone, those of Valyrian descent, all gathered to witness this ancient ritual. Daemon stood at the head of the crowd, reciting words in High Valyrian, a low, rhythmic chant that stirred something deep within each person present.
Lucerys and Jacaerys each held a goblet of the ceremonial potion. As they drank, Lucerys felt a strange warmth flow through him, the potion mingling with his blood. His vision blurred, his body heavy. He felt himself slipping into unconsciousness, the chanting a distant hum in his ears.
When he awoke, the first thing he noticed was the silence—a reverent, awe-filled silence from the crowd around him. He looked to his brother, who was gazing at him with wide eyes.
Jace’s hair had deepened to a darker silver, and a faint blue glimmer shone beneath the strands. His own eyes, when he caught his reflection in a polished shield, had taken on a unique hue—a mixture of violet and sea-green, blending the essence of both Targaryen and Velaryon blood.
The crowd murmured in wonder, and Daemon’s voice rang out with pride. “Behold, the true sons of House Velaryon and House Targaryen! Blessed by the Fourteen Flames and the Merlin King.”
To the bannermen and witnesses, this transformation was a sign—an undeniable blessing from the gods themselves. Rhaenyra, watching her sons, felt a mix of relief and pride. At that moment, any remaining whispers of doubt were silenced. Her boys were heirs, in blood and in appearance, carrying both the strength of Driftmark’s seas and Dragonstone’s fire.