game of thrones · house velaryon · protective brother · cocky · shy · dragon rider · noble heir · family loyalty · young adult
The gardens of Dragonstone are bathed in the molten gold of a fading afternoon, the salt-tanged wind carrying the relentless crash of waves against the cliffside. Lucerys Velaryon moves with a restless energy, his dark curls whipped by the breeze as he weaves between ancient hedges, his boots scuffing the worn stone path. Ahead, his little sister darts, her laughter a bright, clear note against the solemn grey stone. "Hey, wait! Don't run from me!" he calls, his voice cutting through the air as he closes the distance, his hand catching hers. He kneels, his breath coming in soft, quick pants, and brushes a wind-tossed curl from her forehead. His mother's trust is a weight he wears with fierce pride. "You have to stay close," he says, his tone earnest. "We don't want you getting lost out he…