Chapter Text
Year 129 a.C
Dragonstone.
His footsteps left marks in the damp sand, while the sound of the waves nearby drowned out the clash of steel. Lucerys watched his older brother spar with Sir Lorent. The force with which they wielded their swords and evaded one another's strikes made it clear that this was far more than a simple training session.
When he noticed him approaching, Jacaerys raised a hand, bringing the fight to a halt.
His breathing was uneven when he looked at him.
"Mother?"
Lucerys stopped and let out a sigh.
"She is well, but... the child was stillborn."
Jacaerys closed his eyes at those words. Sir Lorent lowered his head.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
"She named her Visenya," Lucerys continued. "They're preparing for the cremation now. Daemon is with her."
Jacaerys exhaled sharply.
"He should have been by her side when her screams could be heard throughout the castle for three days. Calling for him."
Lucerys looked at his brother. He understood his anger toward Daemon, but if there was one thing he had learned over the years, it was how to understand the alpha who had raised them.
"Jace, you know very well that Daemon went through this with Aunt Laena, and he witnessed our grandmother Queen Aemma's death."
"Queen Aemma was a fragile omega! Our mother is a strong beta, and he should have been holding her hand. As any husband and alpha should."
"Any alpha would run from having to choose between the life of his child and that of his mate!" He drew a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. They could not be arguing about this-not now. "Don't take the anger and guilt you feel toward yourself out on father, Jacaerys."
Jacaerys could do nothing but look away, his jaw tightening under the pressure of clenched teeth. He tried to calm himself.
"This is my fault. All of it."
"You couldn't have prevented the usurpation of the Throne, brother."
"I could have. If I hadn't kept the secret, the entire realm would have bent the knee to our mother long ago."
Lucerys thought the alpha's actions contradicted his own words. Even now, switching to High Valyrian in front of Sir Lorent, he continued to conceal the very truth he claimed to regret keeping hidden.
"Jacaerys, what they did with-"
A roar behind them cut him off.
When they turned, Arrax stood restless, spreading his wings and growling at the sky in warning. Concern flared instantly, for Arrax had always been a calm dragon.
"What's wrong with him?" Jacaerys asked, one hand unconsciously drifting to the hilt of his sword as he ordered Sir Lorent to keep his distance.
"I don't know! Something must have startled him. Lykirī!"
Before Lucerys could approach, the castle bells began to ring.
The alarm.
All three turned toward the harbor, and there they saw it: a fleet.
Dozens of ships were advancing toward Dragonstone beneath a single banner.
A golden three-headed dragon on a green field.
Lucerys's heart sank.
"We must return to the castle, my princes! Quickly!"
"Luke!"
Jacaerys seized his wrist and pulled him from his stunned silence.
Lucerys turned toward his dragon.
"Sōvēs, Arrax!"
Obeying the command, the dragon took to the sky above them and headed for the Dragonmont's caverns.
The two brothers broke into a run along the steep path leading back to the castle.
The sand gave way beneath their boots, and the damp stones were slick underfoot.
The bells rang without pause, each toll seeming to chase after them.
"Faster!"
"I'm trying!"
Sir Lorent ran behind them, struggling to keep pace.
By the time they reached the castle gardens, chaos had already erupted.
Servants hurried in every direction.
Armed guards rushed down the stairways.
Some shouted orders.
Others simply shouted.
"What is happening?!" Sir Lorent asked one of them.
"The harbor has fallen!" The man did not stop.
Jacaerys exchanged a glance with the knight.
"They couldn't have taken the harbor that quickly," he said.
Then a roar echoed overhead.
Lucerys felt the air leave his lungs.
A massive shadow swallowed the garden whole.
He did not need to look up to recognize it.
"Vhagar."
The whisper left his lips trembling.
"They didn't come to besiege the island."
The answer escaped Jacaerys before he could stop himself.
His brother had already understood.
"They came for us."
Jacaerys and Lucerys locked eyes.
The weight pressing against their chests grew heavier.
"Mother."
They kept running.
"My princes, wait!"
Another roar tore through the air.
Without slowing, Lucerys looked up and saw his grandmother's Red Queen rising above Dragonstone.
They paused only briefly when they reached the castle interior.
The doors stood wide open.
The corridors were crowded.
Far too crowded.
And everything was wrong.
Lucerys looked around frantically. Fear was beginning to claw at his insides.
There were not enough guards.
Not enough soldiers.
Not enough men capable of repelling an assault.
Jacaerys grabbed a woman by the arm.
"Where is our mother?!"
"You must leave, my princes! Run!"
The woman pulled free and continued running.
Then they heard the first clash of steel.
Distant.
But from within the castle.
All three of them froze.
"No..."
Lucerys felt the blood drain from his face.
They shouldn't be inside the castle.
Another clash.
Then another.
And then a scream.
Jacaerys was already running.
"Your Highness!"
"Jace!"
"It's coming from the royal apartments!"
The two of them followed.
They ran, and yet it felt as though they would never reach their destination.
Then, as they rounded a corner, Jacaerys collided with someone.
A woman.
Dark hair.
A white cloak.
Mysaria.
The alpha caught her before she could fall, and she immediately clutched at his arms.
For the first time, Lucerys saw fear in her eyes.
Real fear.
"Thank the gods...!"
"Where are my mother and Daemon, Mysaria?!"
Jacaerys gave her a slight shake, unable to hide the urgency in his voice.
The woman was silent for a moment and looked toward Sir Lorent.
Another clash of swords echoed from the stairway.
"Get them out of here!"
Sir Lorent rushed past them and ran toward the royal chambers.
Jacaerys did not hesitate to follow, but the beta seized his arm with both hands.
"We have to leave, Prince!"
"I'm not leaving my mother!"
"You can't go there. It's suicide!"
Jacaerys turned to face her.
Lucerys stepped forward. The desperation on his face was impossible to miss.
"Where are my parents?"
Mysaria glanced around.
"You cannot go that way. They'll kill you."
"I'm wasting time!"
Jacaerys tried to pull free.
Mysaria cursed under her breath.
"Damn it. Fine. Wait."
She caught hold of him again before he could run off.
"There's another way."
She hurried to one of the walls and twisted a torch sconce.
A hidden mechanism groaned within the stone.
The wall shifted aside, revealing a narrow passageway and a staircase beyond.
"It will take you to the chambers without crossing the castle."
"Jace!"
Lucerys called after him in concern when his brother accepted her words without question and headed straight for the passage.
With fear tightening around his chest, he followed close behind.
The stairs eventually gave way to winding passageways that climbed through the heart of the fortress, and Mysaria's directions echoing behind them were the only reason they did not lose their way.
By the time they reached their mother's and Daemon's chambers, the sounds of battle carried easily through the brick wall.
Wood splintering.
Steel clashing against steel.
And blood.
Far too much blood.
Through the small panes of glass, Jacaerys could see the floor of the chamber strewn with the bodies of the few soldiers who had defended Dragonstone and his mother.
Sir Lorent was among them.
He tried to push against the wall, but it did not give way as the hidden entrance Mysaria had revealed earlier had.
He turned toward the woman standing behind Lucerys.
"Open it."
Mysaria looked at him for a moment.
The guilt on her face was unmistakable.
She shook her head.
"This one cannot be opened from this side."
Lucerys felt his breathing grow heavier.
He and Jacaerys exchanged a glance before turning their attention back to the chamber.
Rhaenyra was cornered beside her bed. Sweat and exhaustion from the birth were still evident on her face.
Daemon and Sir Draklyn fought to keep the soldiers from reaching her, but the knight's armor was stained with blood, and they were hopelessly outnumbered.
Otto Hightower advanced through the chaos.
He ignored the bodies at his feet and stepped around a man who fell between him and Rhaenyra.
His gaze never left her.
Daemon noticed him too late.
And then Otto slipped past him.
Their mother took a step back.
And another.
Jacaerys did not understand what he was seeing.
Or perhaps he did.
And that was precisely why he could not move.
The sword pierced Rhaenyra's abdomen.
And the world stopped.
Jacaerys heard Lucerys draw in a sharp breath beside him.
Neither of them screamed.
Neither of them could.
Otto pulled the sword free, and their mother fell to her knees.
"RHAENYRA!"
Daemon.
The shout echoed against the stone walls.
He kicked one soldier aside.
Ran another through.
Daemon slashed, and Dark Sister cut through the air with a sharp hum.
He tried to reach her, and for a moment, it seemed he might.
Then Sir Criston Cole struck.
And the blade found Daemon's throat.
Jacaerys felt something inside him break.
Daemon stumbled. His hand flew immediately to the wound.
Blood spilled between his fingers.
But he did not look at Cole.
He did not look at Otto.
His eyes remained fixed on Rhaenyra.
"We have to go."
Mysaria's voice seemed to come from very far away.
But Jacaerys could not tear his gaze away.
Because his mother was still alive.
Rhaenyra trembled as she tried to push herself up.
She fell.
She tried again.
And then she began to crawl.
One hand.
Then the other.
Blood stained the stone beneath her.
"Jacaerys!"
Someone pulled at his arm.
Mysaria.
Perhaps Lucerys.
But he still could not look away.
Because Daemon mirrored her.
The hand not pressed against his throat reached forward.
Once.
Then again.
As though the distance between them was impossible to cross.
Jacaerys took a step forward.
Even knowing there was no way inside.
Mysaria grabbed his shoulder.
"No."
Jacaerys turned to her.
"We have to help them!"
His voice broke.
"We have to-!"
"Jace."
Lucerys was still staring into the chamber.
And he followed his gaze.
Rhaenyra finally reached Daemon's hand.
Daemon closed his fingers around hers.
Rhaenyra intertwined their fingers.
For a moment, the battle vanished for the brothers.
The soldiers.
The screams.
The blood.
None of it mattered.
Daemon moved his lips, and though they were far too distant to hear his words...
Jacaerys saw his mother smile.
A small smile.
A painful one.
But real.
Daemon answered with one of his own.
And then Mysaria yanked him back.
"We have to leave. Now!"
Jacaerys looked away.
The walls of the passage seemed to close in around them.
And they kept running.
When Mysaria shifted the stone once more, sunlight blinded them for a moment.
As their vision cleared, they realized they had not emerged where they had entered.
They were in the training yard.
And everything was chaos.
The enemy had taken the castle.
Soldiers clad in green filled the yard while the defenders, hopelessly outnumbered, struggled to hold back the advance.
Mysaria pointed toward the castle's rear exit.
"We need to get to the island!"
"Luke!"
Jacaerys drew his sword and stepped in front of his brother, blocking the strike meant for him. With a swift movement, he knocked the man's weapon aside and drove his blade into his chest.
Lucerys drew his own sword and nodded to him. Moving with the coordination forged through years of training, Jacaerys took the lead while Lucerys guarded the rear, keeping Mysaria between them.
The three fought their way across the yard until they reached the stables, allowing them to leave the castle walls behind and push toward the island.
But the sight that greeted them was no better.
Green cloaks seemed to rise from the earth itself, closing in on them from every direction.
Yet what made Jacaerys freeze was what he saw in the sky.
A dragon.
Its scales were gold, reflecting the sunlight with such splendor that it seemed almost unreal.
Sunfyre.
"Jace!"
Jacaerys blinked and blocked a strike that could have been fatal, though the blade still sliced across one side of his face.
He growled and locked the enemy's sword against his own.
Twisting sharply, he forced the man out of his path, and once he reached his back, he drove his blade between his ribs.
Why is he here?
He shook his head, trying to drive away the thoughts threatening to cloud his judgment.
Lucerys glanced at his brother and then at Mysaria, who remained beside them with only a dagger in hand.
It was not enough.
His own sword was lighter than most.
He needed something more.
He dodged a thrust and slit his attacker's throat.
Without breaking stride, he switched his sword to his other hand and picked up the one that had fallen to the ground.
When he straightened again, he held a blade in each hand.
"We need to head west! Toward the slopes!"
Mysaria shouted over the noise.
Lucerys took the lead. Above them, the roars of dragons made the air tremble.
Enemy soldiers continued to appear, forcing them to carve a path forward again and again.
An explosion in the distance drew their attention for a brief moment.
"Prince!"
Mysaria shoved him aside, taking the slash meant for his chest across her own forearm.
Lucerys did not hesitate. One of his blades found the man's throat, spattering his face with blood.
He turned to check on her, but Mysaria was already back on her feet, one hand pressed against the wound.
"We have to get out of here!"
How?
He looked around, but everywhere he turned, all he could see were green cloaks.
He stepped backward, one sword raised while the other protected Mysaria. Only then did he realize that, without noticing, they had ended up back-to-back with Jacaerys.
They were surrounded.
Lucerys heard his brother curse and closed his eyes for a moment.
A shriek cut through the noise ringing in his ears.
His eyes flew open, and he looked skyward in horror.
Because he recognized that cry.
Like a snowstorm descending from the sky, Arrax swept over them and unleashed a torrent of flame behind them, engulfing the soldiers and carving open a path to escape.
He felt someone move.
He heard someone shout.
Perhaps Mysaria.
Perhaps Jacaerys.
He could no longer tell.
Lucerys could only watch as his dragon landed before him.
Arrax struck down several men and drove others back with the force of his wings.
Then someone grabbed his wrist.
He spun around and found his brother's face.
Jacaerys was covered in dirt and ash, but the panic in his eyes was visible even through the haze clouding Lucerys's mind.
"Luke, we have to go!"
He began pulling him away, but Lucerys resisted.
"Wait! Arrax is here!"
"We have to leave, Lucerys!"
"No! I can't leave him!"
Jacaerys released his wrist and instead wrapped both arms around his waist, dragging him away from his dragon.
Away from Arrax.
"No! Let me go!"
Lucerys struggled against his grip.
"We have to go!"
Arrax continued growling at the soldiers, forcing them back.
But there were too many.
"Sōvēs, Arrax! Kostilus, sōvēs!"
Arrax turned toward him.
But he did not obey.
And then Lucerys understood.
His dragon was not going to listen.
He had made his choice.
And he had no intention of abandoning them.
Tears began to stream down Lucerys's cheeks as the pain in his chest became unbearable.
"Dracarys!"
Jacaerys forced him to turn away.
The heat of Arrax's flames struck his back.
He did not look behind him.
He could not.
His vision was blurring again, and he forced himself to keep moving.
He followed Mysaria's back, swinging his swords at any soldier clad in green who came too close.
As they moved farther from the heart of the fighting, the landscape began to change.
The soldiers gave way to peasants, and swords were replaced by scythes.
All of them were moving toward the castle.
"This way!"
Mysaria ran toward a rocky outcrop and, unexpectedly, dropped to the ground, slipping between the stones.
Lucerys did not stop to think. He followed her.
His body slid through a narrow crevice and landed on uneven ground. For a moment, he lost his balance.
Jacaerys fell in behind him. His knees took the impact, and a pained groan escaped him.
His brother wasted no time getting back to his feet and raising his sword toward the entrance.
Lucerys did the same.
For several minutes, they heard shouting and hurried footsteps.
None of them dared move.
At last, the sounds began to fade.
"We're safe," Mysaria said.
Lucerys leaned back against the rocky wall and slid down to the ground.
His gaze remained fixed on some distant point on the cave floor.
Jacaerys rested his hands on his knees. His ragged breathing echoed through the cavern.
Then he turned and slammed his fist into the stone.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
The blows came one after another. The sound of bone striking rock and skin splitting open echoed through the cave.
"Shit."
Strike.
"Shit."
Strike.
"SHIT!"
He braced his forearms against the stone wall and lowered his head between them.
Mysaria watched both princes with tight lips.
"We need to keep moving."
"No."
Jacaerys straightened.
His knuckles were raw and bleeding.
"I have to go back."
Mysaria stared at him in horror.
"Have you lost your mind?"
"I have to go back for my brothers! I..."
The words died in his throat.
"I left them behind..."
His voice broke.
"Listen to me, boy!" Mysaria grabbed his arm firmly. "Your mother and Daemon trusted me to keep you safe if anything happened. So you need to trust me!"
Lucerys remained silent.
"I saw the same thing you did, and I know how hard this is, but you need to think about survival. If you go back out there, you'll die, and everything your mother built will vanish because of your stupidity. Is that what you want?!"
Jacaerys stared at her in stunned silence for a moment.
Then he shook his head.
"Then trust me, Jacaerys."
The alpha looked toward his brother.
Lucerys held his gaze for a moment and gave the faintest nod.
"Fine."
Jacaerys turned back to her, yielding.
Mysaria returned the gesture and ventured deeper into the cave. Her fingers traced along the wall as though she knew exactly what she was searching for.
Jacaerys helped Lucerys to his feet. Together, they watched the beta in silence.
Their surprise was immediate when Mysaria slipped her hand into a hidden recess between the rocks and pulled out a torch.
With some effort, she managed to light it, pushing back the darkness around them.
"Come on."
The brothers exchanged a look before retrieving their swords and following her.
The silence that swallowed them was oppressive; only the echo of their footsteps and the fading sounds of war disturbed the stillness.
Lucerys noticed that Mysaria kept her free hand pressed against the cut on her arm, a wound that had not stopped bleeding.
"Wait..."
He took hold of the edge of his cloak and cut off a strip with his sword.
It was not the cleanest cut, and the fabric barely retained traces of the sea-green color it had once possessed, but it would do.
He approached the woman and, as gently as he could, wrapped the cloth around her wound, tying it tightly enough to stop the bleeding.
Mysaria watched his every movement in silence.
When he finished, she inclined her head in thanks.
And they continued on.
Time lost all meaning.
The darkness made every step indistinguishable from the last, and the ache in their muscles reminded them that they had been walking far longer than they should have been able to endure.
"Where does this lead?"
Jacaerys's voice was hoarse, wavering slightly at the end.
"To the dragon caves. They're a labyrinth of tunnels and caverns, but only those who know the correct path ever make it through."
"How did you discover it?"
Lucerys's voice sounded broken.
Mysaria remained silent for several steps.
"Daemon did." She shifted the torch to her other hand. "During one of his expeditions. Afterward, he and your mother decided it would serve as an escape route... should it ever be needed."
The implication hung unspoken between them.
Their parents had never truly believed they would have to use it.
Jacaerys tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword.
"Who else knew about this?"
"Besides me, only a few people: Maester Gerardys, several ladies-in-waiting, and Sir Lorent."
Silence settled around them once more.
Above them, the sounds of war had become a distant murmur, barely reaching the depths of the caves.
Lucerys walked with his eyes fixed on the ground.
Every so often, he thought he heard the beat of wings.
The scrape of claws against stone.
A warm breath at his back.
But whenever he looked up, he found only darkness.
Arrax was gone.
Then a light appeared in the distance.
A torch.
Whoever carried it held it before their face, making it impossible to see them clearly.
Jacaerys raised his sword and stepped in front of Lucerys and Mysaria.
Then a child's voice echoed through the darkness.
"Luke?"
Lucerys reached for his brother’s hand, prompting him to lower his sword.
That voice...
“Viserys?!”
The torch moved aside, revealing four familiar faces: Baela and Rhaena, alongside their brothers, Aegon and Viserys.
“Luke!”
“Jace!”
The two boys immediately ran toward them, and they did not hesitate to meet them halfway.
Lucerys dropped to his knees and pulled Viserys into a tight embrace. The child buried his face in his neck and burst into tears.
Jacaerys pressed a kiss to Aegon’s head as the boy practically crashed into him, wrapping his arms around his waist as tightly as he could.
“I thought I’d never see you again.”
Aegon’s voice was muffled, yet Jacaerys could still hear it trembling.
“I’m here.” He pulled back just enough to cup his face and wipe away the tears mixed with soot. “I’m sorry I didn’t come for you.”
The younger boy hugged him again, and Jacaerys stroked his back, swallowing the tears threatening to fall.
Rhaena and Baela approached more slowly, knowing the younger children needed the reassurance of their brothers’ presence even more than they themselves did.
Still carrying Viserys, Lucerys rose to his feet and accepted the warm embrace Baela wrapped around them both. For a moment, the scent of smoke and leather inherited from Daemon made him feel safe.
Rhaena waited until Aegon loosened his hold on Jacaerys. She brushed a hand through his hair before wrapping her arms around Jacaerys.
The alpha seized the opportunity to lean into the comfort she offered, lifting her slightly off the ground.
“Are they...?”
Rhaena’s whisper was barely audible.
Jacaerys trembled.
Whether from the sobs he was struggling to suppress or from the storm of emotions tearing him apart, it was enough for his cousin to understand.
“It’s alright.” The omega pulled back just enough to cradle his cheek in one hand. The warmth of it hurt. “You’re here.”
“Jace?”
Aegon looked up at him with wide violet eyes, and Jacaerys realized something: he was still a child, but old enough to understand that their mother and father would not return the way they had.
And that was the pain Jacaerys found hardest to bear.
He knelt before him, searching for the right words, but Aegon threw himself at him again without warning. Like Viserys, he buried his face in Jacaerys’s neck and cried as quietly as he could manage.
Jacaerys looked toward his siblings.
Lucerys was watching him through unshed tears, still holding the youngest boy.
Baela simply nodded. Her lips were pressed into a tight line.
“We should go inside, Your Highnesses. It’s still dangerous, even here.”
Mysaria was already ahead of them, motioning toward the cave from which their siblings had emerged.
Baela moved to Jacaerys’s side and wrapped an arm around him, while Rhaena took Lucerys’s hand.
Together, they guided them forward.
Inside, it looked less like a cave and more like a refuge prepared long ago for a day such as this. Near a fire pit, the familiar sight of Elinda brought them a measure of comfort.
Though she was not alone.
Beside her stood a young man with unmistakably Valyrian features.
“That is Addam of Hull,” Baela said, rubbing Jacaerys’s arm. “One of Mysaria’s messengers, according to him.”
“My princes.” Elinda bowed. “It is good to see you here.”
Jacaerys could see the exhaustion etched across her face, as stained with dirt and ash as those of his siblings. And yet she smiled at them with the same warmth as always.
“Thank you for looking after them, Elinda.”
The beta looked surprised.
For a moment, she seemed about to say something more, but ultimately shook her head.
“We owe everything to Prince Joffrey. You must be eager to see him.”
Joffrey.
Not having seen him with the others, Jacaerys had feared the worst.
He had placed his hopes in Baela’s and Rhaena’s silence regarding his name, but now anxiety seized him at the thought of seeing his younger brother.
Elinda approached Lucerys and tried to take Viserys from his arms. The child only clung tighter to the young omega.
“Vis, I’m not going anywhere. Never.”
“Daor.”
Aegon, by contrast, released Jacaerys of his own accord, though his pursed lips made his displeasure obvious. Once back on the ground, he walked over to Lucerys and tugged at Viserys’s clothing.
“Come on, Vis. They need to talk to lēkia.”
Wearing the same stubborn expression as his older brother, Viserys reluctantly let go of him before taking Aegon’s hand.
The two boys left with Elinda.
Rhaena smiled softly.
“He’s over there.”
Lucerys glanced at her once before following the direction she indicated. Jacaerys followed.
The stone passage connected to a much smaller cavern.
And there was their brother.
Joffrey stood with his back to them while Maester Gerardys wrapped bandages around his shoulder.
Bandages that covered much of his back as well.
The older man noticed their presence and offered them a weary smile before gently patting the bandaged shoulder.
“You have visitors, Your Highness.”
Joffrey let out a small groan and turned his head.
The pain vanished from his expression.
The three brothers stood frozen for a moment.
Jacaerys stepped forward, Lucerys at his side.
Joffrey carefully rose to his feet.
The three of them stood facing one another, none knowing what to do or say.
Jacaerys’s eyes swept over his brother’s body.
Bare-chested, the bandages they had seen on his back wrapped across part of his chest and his entire right shoulder, immobilizing his arm.
“A-Are you alright?” Lucerys asked without moving.
Joffrey nodded.
His lower lip began to tremble as he looked past them.
Both brothers knew who he was searching for.
“Father?”
Lucerys clenched his fists at his sides and looked away.
Joffrey held his breath.
“Muña?”
Jacaerys’s vision blurred with tears, but he did not look away from his brother.
Joffrey understood.
A sob escaped him, and he lowered his head. He squeezed his eyes shut, as if clinging to the last memories he had of them before the world fell apart.
When he opened his eyes again, Jacaerys watched him look up toward the ceiling.
Only for a few seconds.
And when his gaze returned to them, something had broken behind it.
Wincing with pain, Joffrey seemed to ignore his injuries as he approached them. As best he could, he wrapped his good arm around both of them.
Jacaerys rested a hand atop his head and pulled him closer against his chest, biting his lip when not only the youngest, but Lucerys as well, began to cry openly.
“I’m sorry... I truly am. Forgive me, brothers.”
He could not hold back any longer.
Tears streamed down his face, and his voice dissolved into uncontrollable sobs.
And their mother would never again be there to tell him that everything would be alright.