tethered by Fate | Lucerys Velaryon | Aemond Targaryen

◇ six ◇

◇

I sit atop Vaerion as she lounges lazily, her massive belly flat against the ground like some overgrown housecat. The midday heat seems to make her lethargic, and I can’t help but feel the same as we wait.

In the distance, I spot Daeron speeding toward us on foot, his formal green attire billowing dramatically behind him.

When he finally gets close enough, I raise an eyebrow and call out, “I said something suitable. You’re not meeting your might be betrothed.”

He chuckles, brushing nonexistent dust off his sleeves. “It’s been far too long since we’ve seen the family—I want to make a real impression.”

I smirk but can’t deny the same reasoning behind my own choices. My favorite dress, perfectly styled hair—it’s all for the same reason. I want them to see me, to remember me, not as the girl I was but as the woman I’ve become.

It’s been nearly nine years since I’ve truly been with my family. Of course, there was Aegon and Helaena’s wedding, but I was seven then—a blur of music, ceremony, and vague, scattered memories.

Daeron climbs atop his shimmering blue dragon, Tessarion, and with a thunderous beat of wings, we launch into the sky. Vaerion groans slightly before catching the wind, her powerful muscles working harder than usual.

We spend hours on dragonback, and I can feel Vaerion’s fatigue beside me. She isn’t used to such long journeys, nor is Tessarion.

I glance at Daeron and shout over the roaring wind, “How’s the Blue Queen holding up?”

He smirks, his pride evident. Tessarion’s moniker has always been a favorite of his. “Tired, but strong! I believe the sun will set soon. How much longer do you think?”

Before I can answer, Vaerion’s wing breaks through a thick cloud, and there it is—King’s Landing.

The Red Keep glows faintly in the distance as the sunlight begins to dim. We angle our dragons downward, the wind whipping my hair from its careful braids.

When we land near the Dragonpit, the keepers rush out to meet us. I glide off Vaerion’s back, running a hand along her side. “Thank you, sweet girl. You did well,” I murmur, planting a kiss on her scales.

Daeron dismounts Tessarion with a graceful leap, straightening his already-pristine attire. “Shall we?” I ask, gesturing toward the entrance where I suspect our family waits.

“We shall,” he replies, offering his arm like the ever-dutiful prince.

We walk across the gravel toward the Dragonpit’s entrance, my heart thudding heavier with each step. And there they are.

I cringe inwardly.

Mother is smiling, but her face is taut, the edges of her mask cracking. Aegon sways slightly, a goblet of wine in hand, clearly drunk. Aemond grips Aegon’s arm as though it’s the only thing keeping him upright, his single eye focused and sharp. And Helaena... Helaena is as far away as ever, her gaze fixed somewhere none of us can see.

I rush forward to Alicent, wrapping her in a tight hug. “Mother, I’ve missed you! It’s been too long.”

She stiffly returns the hug, her hands cool against my back. “Yes, it has,” she says, her voice formal but tinged with something softer—something she quickly hides.

Next is Aegon. I turn to my eldest brother, who blinks at me like I’m a ghost he wasn’t expecting.

“Brother,” I say with a grin, “I’ve flown across the skies for you. Give me something!”

He finally smiles back, though it’s hazy and unsteady. “You’ve grown, Lina,” he says, his voice slurring slightly. “I’ll drink to that!”

“You’ve already started,” I mutter, shaking my head but smiling anyway.

Then, there’s Aemond. I meet his gaze—or rather, the single eye that isn’t hidden by the eyepatch. He’s so different now, all the boyishness of youth stripped away. The harsh lines of his face make him look colder, more severe.

“Nice patch,” I say lightly. “I’ll sew you a new one if that one gets dull.”

For a moment, he looks almost offended, his jaw tightening.

“I’m joking, Aemond. It is good to see you,” I add quickly, stepping forward to hug him briefly.

Finally, there’s Helaena. My sweet, cryptic sister speaks before I can.

“The dragon who laughs and the dragon who weeps—both want you. Only one will let you go,” she murmurs, her voice distant but unsettlingly clear.

I freeze, unsure if I should laugh or take her words seriously.

“My wife is an enduring mystery,” Aegon hiccups, breaking the tension.

I glance at Mother, whose face is now a mask of weariness. The strain of holding us all together is written in every line.

“Take Prince Daeron and Princess Daelina to their chambers,” Alicent orders the serving girls nearby. Then, she looks at me, her expression softening slightly. “I’ve had some clothes commissioned for you both. Will you join me for tea later, Daelina? There’s much to discuss.”

“Of course, Mother,” I reply. “We need to catch up.”

The serving girls lead me through the Red Keep, and when they open the door to my chambers, I’m greeted by a warm, mid-sized room with a large window overlooking the city. The four-poster bed is draped in green, a testament to my mother’s ever-present touch.

I sit atop the bed, letting the weight of the day sink in.