Chapter Text
Father looked down where I pointed, before chuckling for a moment and descending from the dais. He picked it up after a moment, a deep green dragon egg. I slowly walked up to him and looked hesitant at the egg.
"It's a dragon egg, Lucerys. You've seen them before," Father said, tossing it in his hands for a moment. I gave him a deadpan look.
"Where did you get it?" I asked. And why did he just leave it out? He gestured for me to sit in a chair beside him. Hesitantly, I sat down. We're screwed. He's gonna tick off Viserys even further, and he's not exactly inclined to be nice about it! Father held the dragon egg, looking almost… wistful?
"It was mine," he finally said. "Father placed it in my cradle, just as he did with Viserys. His was from Meleys. Mine, from Vhagar." He leaned back, turning his eyes from the egg to me. "I wished to place this in your cradle, just as Viserys placed his in Rhaenyra's, yet that was denied to me." I rolled my eyes.
"You chose to leave, Father. You could have stayed, for me," I bit out. He seemed to flinch at that, before returning his eyes to the dragon egg.
"I was six-and-ten. I was married to a woman I didn't care for," he began. As I narrowed my eyes, he held up his hand. "Had we been permitted to depart for the lands that were granted by her dowry, I might have been able to bear it. The lands were large, near to the port towns, and we needn't have seen each other more than needed." I just looked at him, confused.
"And what stopped you?" I asked, yet I was fairly certain I knew the answer.
"Yorbert Royce," he spat, placing the egg back on the table. "The moment he discovered Rhea's pregnancy, he forbade her from leaving Runestone for any reason, and as we were expected to keep to one household, he all but commanded me to subordinate myself, and become his weapon for influence.I left on Caraxes, unwilling to bow to him. I told grandmother everything, and she permitted me to stay." He turned to look directly at me. "Father was there after your birth, as was Aemma. She proposed your name, like as not. He confirmed your name and recognized you as a Targaryen." He stopped, before focusing. "I didn't call you here to discuss the past, Lucerys. I want you to present the egg to Mysaria, for her child."
I froze for a second. Father… wanted me to give my bastard sibling a dragon egg?
"Why?" I asked simply.
"You were worried about your brother or sister being more loved than you," he said. I blushed in embarrassment as he continued. "Offering the egg to Mysaria is a message. In Valyria, such a thing would be a sign of recognition… here, it is just a peace offering, or something to ensure peace remains." He walked towards me, holding the egg snugly, before holding it out to me.
"This is such a bad idea," I said, but couldn't stop myself from taking the egg. I took a breath for a moment, and returned to looking at Father. "You are sure that Uncle will not oppose this?" Father scoffed.
"Viserys is many things, but I do not believe him to be that much of a hypocrite," he said, turning me towards the door.
"Ten dragons says you're wrong," I said, as I walked off. I heard a call of "five-and-twenty!" as I began my slow walk down the stairs. Up to this point, things had been fairly predictable. Events had played out like the original timeline, only slightly different in many cases. It couldn't stay that way forever. I was sure more effects would go rippling eventually. That thought brought on another headache, but at least no memory lapses or epilepsy-inducing prophetic visions… okay, I hadn't gotten the latter yet but it was probably coming at this rate.
I snaked my way through the halls of Dragonstone until I arrived at the apartments Father shared with Mysaria. A servant swiftly opened the door, and I nervously presented the heavily pregnant pale lady with the green egg. In my nervousness, I didn't notice any words directed towards me… and then my memory lapsed to me being in my rooms again.
It's just like the leadup to Baelon's birth all over again. I thought. Even then, the memory lapses were momentary. Minutes or even hours at a time are vanishing now. I had to focus. If these were a sign of something big…
I snapped out of that line of thought. If I got too bogged down in these eldritch timey-wimey shenanigans, I would never make any progress. Ever. Not like I was making a lot, anyway. I was still in my single digits on a desolate island, isolated from anything that could give me an inkling of what was happening. And all I could do was wait. A fortnight later, father begrudgingly gave me 25 gold dragons in a pouch. I hated being right.
A royal messenger had arrived, backed up by the Cargyll twins. The letter, from what father told me as he sent me to pack my things into trunks, ordered us to return to Runestone and send Mysaria back to the Free Cities, or be attainted. A bit problematic for Father's future plans, obviously, and so after long strings of curses that would make a sailor blush, he chartered the fastest ship he could to transport Mysaria back to Lys.
If I let her go, it would be simple, it would allow things to progress in a way I knew. I couldn't count on the universe correcting itself a second time if I changed more things. It was incredibly easy. Then I would simply depart with the rest of the household to Runestone, and I could keep making plans.
As I sat packing, my mind flashed, old memories of the life part of me had once known. Holding my baby cousins, feeding them when they were hungry, carrying my little sister at my side. Before the flash had even ended, I'd forced myself up. I fell on my face, of course, but my determination wouldn't be stopped.
I ran down the various steps until I reached the rooms where Mysaria had prepared her things, and rapidly knocked on the door. It swiftly opened, as the pale worm looked at me, heavily pregnant stomach showing through her clothes, with a confused expression.
"Lucerys, what brings you here?" she asked. "Daemon has told you—" I shook my head.
"I know, don't just show up with permission. I need to tell you, I had another vision. It was…" I looked down. What was sufficiently cryptic to sound like those dreams? "A white dragon, wrapped around an egg," I began. "Storms and lightning hit around it, until a lot of rocks fell upon them. The white dragon was injured, but alive… but the egg was crushed," I finished. I looked back up at her face, and she clearly seemed troubled, but I couldn't tell if her pale-ness was from her natural skin color, or if she was actually worried about that.
"I see," she said. "And what do you plan to do about this? These dreams cannot be simply changed." I shrugged, I remembered what happened last time, and yet… I couldn't just do nothing.
"I… I have to push it," I said, shaking my head. "I'll take you to Pentos, if you can find your own way after-" She stopped me.
"Pentos is acceptable, I have contacts who can shelter me there," she said quickly. I nodded, but as I turned, she spoke again. "Sailing to Pentos from Dragonstone is simple— follow the Silver River towards the East. It will take you exactly there, or at least close enough to see the streetlamps." I nodded, before departing the room. The Silver River was simple enough, it was a Constellation that was easy to see.
After all of my stuff was packed into trunks, I made sure to change into my riding clothes, and brought an extra cloak with me, as I went to find Father. Apparently, he was in the Chamber of the Painted Table, arguing with the Cargyll twins.
"Father!" I called, making myself as apparent as possible, not caring about their argument. He quickly turned to me, and seemed… relieved? He soon turned back to the twins, eager to get the last word in.
"As I have repeated, the whole of the household will accompany me. Now, I must be excused, as my son needs me," he said, before turning and descending the stairs, grabbing my hand and pulling me along.
"The new Castellan wanted to keep one of your Maesters, and send the other back to the Citadel. One of Otto's old squires, chosen because he can listen to High Valyrian," he spat. I shook my head sadly.
"And we're keeping them both?" I asked. Father gave me a smile full of mischief.
"That Castellan won't keep any except some servants. Everyone else comes with us," he said, clearly amused. "The twin white knights can't actually change that, they'll have to deal." I rolled my eyes, but couldn't help but let out a
quiet chuckle. I spent the rest of the day ensuring everything was prepared, and as night fell, Lady Misery joined me in the courtyard and climbed onto Vermithor with me. Before any guards could "stop" us, the Bronze Fury had taken to the skies, as I directed him to follow the Silver River.
Few words were exchanged, as a ringing in my ears continued throughout the whole trip. Despite fears and anything else, we arrived safely in Pentos, following the Silver River safely to the red city. The cursory view I got already struck me as incredible. It wasn't like anything I'd seen in Westeros, even King's Landing or the small city on Dragonstone itself. Carefully, she descended, even as onlookers stared on and she vanished into the city, and Vermithor returned to the sky before the city guard could assemble en masse. I wished I could keep watching Mysaria to ensure she got to safety, but soon the light of the city faded, as I returned to following the Silver River back to Westeros. I fell asleep on Vermithor's back. When I awoke, he was resting on the slopes of Dragonstone. Some time later, he rose again and took to the sky, flying north, towards the Vale.