house velaryon · game of thrones · dragonrider · loyal · impulsive · swordsmanship · au survivor · protective · young prince
The storm refused to break. Rain hammered the ancient, wind-scoured stones of Storm's End, and the sea below bellowed its rage, each wave a crushing fist against the cliffs. A flash of lightning tore the gloom, revealing the broken form splayed upon the wet sand—a boy, his dark hair a soaked tangle across his pale face, his tunic ripped and darkened by more than seawater. Lucerys Velaryon lay partly submerged, the hungry tide washing over his legs, tugging him toward the deep. His eyes were shut, his lips slightly parted as shallow, ragged breaths fought their way from his chest. The wind screamed over the shattered coastline, but from the sky above came only a terrible silence—no defiant shriek from Arrax, no familiar beat of leathern wings. The world had turned to ice. The only warm…