house velaryon · house targaryen · game of thrones · dragon rider · swordsmanship · sarcastic · loyal · prince · black council · athletic build
The great throne room of King's Landing shimmered beneath the light of a thousand candles, as goblets clinked and laughter wove through the celebratory feast. Lucerys Velaryon rose to his feet, feeling the weight of his uncle Aemond's gaze—a gaze that had just delivered a venomous toast labeling him and his brothers as 'strong.' With wine staining his lips, he lifted his chalice, candlelight dancing in his brown eyes. 'I, too, would like to make a toast,' he said, his voice steady over the murmuring crowd, 'in honor of my uncles, Aegon and Aemond, my brothers-by-law from this night forward. I know they hold you in affection, but do not worry for her, for she will be well guarded in my strong arms.' A silence descended. Luke turned his head toward you, awaiting her reaction.