Lucos
He wasn't allowed to kill the Cannibal.
Daeron had told him that almost immediately after the monster had slaughtered Arrax on the beach, when Lucos already had sword in hand and Snowfyre screeching vengence into the sky. His...lover, Lucos supposed was the best word to describe them, had wrapped his arms around Lucos' chest and refused to let him go, whispering softly about the risks, about how dangerous Cannibal was, about how they couldn't lose him. Lucos could have broken the grip but not without hurting Daeron. He'd allowed himself to be talked down.
He'd proposed the mission again to Jace when he'd returned. The sight of Vermax gliding down from the early morning mist had been a welcome one. Lucos himself had not seen Jace since before he had left to visit Daeron in Oldtown. His absence upon Lucos' return had caused him all sorts of worry and Lucos was relived to see him alive and unharmed. He'd grown since they last spoke. Jace had always been just a little taller than Lucos but he was now closer in height to Daeron than to Lucos. Lucos' father hadn't been particularly tall. He doubted he would be either. No doubt all of the Queen's children would grow to be taller than him. Lucos didn't mind it too much though he did regret not having a bit of extra reach on his arm.
After the family had greeted him back and he'd had his private meeting with his mother, Lucos had requested to see Jace alone. He'd accepted instantly and invited him back to his chambers. Before Jace could say anything, Lucos had told him everything that had happened. His and Daeron's flight from Oldtown, Baratheon's treachery, the battle above Storm's End and Arrax's death.
Jace had looked grim.
"I had wondered where Luke was," he mumbled. Luke wasn't quite as isolated as he had been for the first few weeks after Arrax's death and he was eating at least a little now but he still locked himself away for long stretches of time. He hadn't come out to see Jace return.
Lucos swallowed.
"I want to kill the Cannibal." He said. Jace had looked at him with alarm. Lucos hurried to explain. "You and me. Two dragons ought be enough, maybe some archers too. We lure him out of his cave and attack him at the entrance, where he's boxed in..."
"Out of the question." Lucos frowned, then glared. He opened his mouth to speak again but Jace cut across him. "Are you out of your mind. The Cannibal can be one of the most dangerous dragons if provoked and you want to give him a reason to attack us?"
"He killed Arrax!"
"Arrax was already dying!" Jace shouted. "We put a feast in front of him and rang the bell for it. The rest of our dragons are too strong for Cannibal to try anything and he avoids men. Our best option is to do as we have always done and ignore him."
"We can't just..." He was interupted again.
"Don't think I don't know what this is about, Lucos." Jace sighed. "Arrax was Luke's dragon. Family. You feel like you failed him. You've felt that way before and couldn't do anything about it and you think it can be different this time. It can't. We're not risking more dragons for the sake of your revenege. I don't like doing nothing either but we have no other choice. Not for now at least."
Lucos had left without another word. He wasn't childish enough to slam the door behind him regardless of how much he wanted to. No matter. His silence would express his anger well enough.
Mo- Queen Rhaenyra had said no as well. He had gone to her last, not wanting to burden her more than necessary. She had blanched when he'd suggested it. Her hand had drifted over her belly almost unconciously before she had all but screamed at him to stay away from the Cannibal. She had taken a moment to calm herself before telling him again, this time as a Royal command, that he was not to go looking for a fight with the murderous dragon lurking in the caves of the Dragonmont.
Lucos glared up at the side of the mountain. He wanted to. He wanted to more than he wanted anything else because, no matter how much he hated having his thoughs laid bare in front of him, Jace had been right. He'd been given an order from two of the people that meant most to him and wouldn't break it. But every time he saw Luke's pale and drawn face, his ever thinner figure lurking about in the dark parts of Dragonstone's halls, the surge of hate grew and grew and he was once again dreaming about dragging Cannibal's head into the throne Room in King's Landing and mounting on a spike.
"Lucos?"
He turned.
Daeron was staring at him in concern. The Queen's Black Council had not assembled in full since that first meeting. Lord Velaryon and his wife had returned from Driftmark but Lord Celtigar was still there with the army, Ser Samwell Bar Emmon and Ser Cedric Sunglass had returned to their keeps to see to their defences and levies. Ser Jon Pyle was off leading his wife's forces in the Kingswood and Daemon was at Harrenhall. Luke was still absent too. He seemed to drift in and out of meetings of his own accord with seemingly no reason as to when or where he'd make an appearance.
Some of the guards had taken to calling this smaller assembly the bedchamber council. Most of them were Rhaenyra's family in some way. Two sons, a brother, a good mother and father and; as Baela had begun attending in her father's stead; a cousin. Of those present only Lucos and the Maester were not Rhaenyra's kin.
"My apologies, Your Grace." Lucos said, bowing his head. "I was lost in thought."
The look Rhaenyra, Jacaerys and Daeron all gave him told him that they knew exactly what he was thinking about. He could feel himself start to flush and hurried to stamp down on his embarrasment.
"I'm quite sure I don't need to know what thoughts drift through your head when you're bored, Lucos. Joffrey's innocence should be guarded a little while longer," Rhaenyra said, smiling softly. Lucos did flush this time as did Daeron. Jace snorted and Ser Erryck coughed in an effort to hide his own amusement. "But come. My husband has sent grim tidings and I would have your counsel."
Lucos supposed it was only a matter of time before something went wrong. For being a war, things had been going much too smoothly, even with the execution of their loyal bannermen that had been imprisoned in King's Landing.
Jace had brought them nothing but good news. Queen Rhaenyra had thrown a small feast that night in honour of his return and the whole castle had piled into the Great Hall, less the guards who were on duty. Dragonstone was an island. While winter, war and the Velaryon blockade were stretching King's Landing's supplies to the limit, Dragonstone had no such problem. They were not short of fresh fish and most of the Free Cities were all still trading with Dragonstone and Driftmark. They'd even had a shipment of spices from Qarth that would, if nothing else, allow them to flavour their food so they didn't grow weary of the taste of fish. Huge loaves of bread, baked with flour from Pentos, had been baked through the day and set out with a honey spread at the begining of the feast. Half a dozen different types of fish had been brought as different courses; one had been added to a soup, most were grilled, one had been baked into a pie. Plates of oyesters were passed around, boiled crab had been added to a thick broth and there had even been some glazed seagull's that had been shot down for the occasion.
There was a troupe of musicians sitting off to the side. A dozen young men in colourful clothes with drums, harp's and lutes. According to Jace they had been kept on retainer in Dragonstone and Driftmark for several years as they were a favourite of Laenor Velaryon's. Neither Rhaenyra or Lord Corlys had kept them on after Laenor's death and the troupe had started travelling the Crownlands for work but the Queen still brought them back to perform at feast's every so often. She seemed to enjoy them in a sentimental way.
Mushroom was there too. The stunted little dwarf that was far cleverer than a fool had any right to be. Dressed in red and green motley and wearing a large jesters hat to match his overly large head, the dwarf pranced around the hall fumbling with his juggling balls; or pretending to; and tripping over his own feet, the bells on his hat jingling with every fall. He told lewd and disgusting japes that had most of the hall chuckling with mirth. The jokes were poor, most often boiling down to something shallow and uncreative like 'That men smells' or 'His cock is small' but there was always a subtle edge of a truly clever and often malicious barb hidden underneath. Too subtle, too clever. The true fools were those in hall that weren't smart enough to see the true joke. Mushroom's beady eyes were always watching.
The man had made Lucos' skin crawl ever since he was young and he'd been careful not to give anything away in front of him. He was sure the dwarf was responsible for the rumours of him and Daeron escaping the family.
Jace had spent the night telling stories. The Queen had been made privy to the information in private and she had announced to the hall her eldest son's success in making alliances and praised his charm and diplomacy. Lucerys had scowled at that and stomped off as soon as there was enough distraction in the hall to be unnoticed. Lucos had been sitting on the other end of the table and could only watch him go. He hadn't eaten a thing.
The exact details of their new allies were shared between courses. Over the soup and bread he told them off his agreement's with the Grafton's and the Three Sister's. After the fish pie, Jace had made a point to raise his cup and toast the loyalty of House Royce and Arryn. When the high table had been treated to a huge goose from Volantis that had been roasted over a huge brazier and flavoured with some strong pepper and another sharp spice; that Lucos couldn't identify and wasn't sure if he liked; before being thinly coated with a tangy syrup, Jace had informed them of the crown jewel among his alliances. The Stark's of Winterfell. He told all about the Pact of Ice and Fire he'd made, the splendor of White Harbour and the enchanting Godswood of Winterfell. He spoke at great length about Lord Cregan and if Lucos didn't know better he'd say Jace was nigh in love with the man. While they ate their final course; small pastry's with a fruity creme in the middle; Jace answered dozen's of Lucos' questions about the North. He'd always been curious about it but never had the courage to visit.
When the food had been cleared away, the musician's took the music up a notch. Before they had been quietly playing soft tunes, filling the background. With the food finished and the gathered guests growing rowdy as they gulped down wine and ale, they started playing faster and louder, switching from a slow, quiet version of the Bear and the Maiden Fair into The False and The Fair. There was no singer but many of the crowd took up the tune and bellowed out the words. Some were bad singers and some were fair and some sang the wrong song entirely.
Jace stood from his seat and turned to Lady Baela. For having grown up together, she and Lucos hadn't known each other very well for a long time. Surprising, perhaps, given their similar characters and their proximity to each other. But they had only truly interacted in lessons. He had flown around the Dragonmont with her once though, days before he left for Oldtown. It had been her third flight on Moondancer. He'd quite enjoyed her company and when they landed she had made him promise to spend more time with her.
"You and Jacaerys are close enough you are near enough my good-brother anyway," she had said smiling. "Besides, I'm told a man's worst fear is his wife and best friend plotting together."
Lucos had snorted.
"And where did you hear that from?" He'd certainly heard nothing of the sort.
"Oh, here and there," she'd said with a teasing smile. "Now come. I want to raid the kitchen's for honeyed bread and I think I'll use you to do all the carrying for me."
After that, he had started spending a little more time with her in the few days he'd had before flying south to see Daeron. She'd forced Jace away and sat next to him one day while they were break their fast and begun whispering utter nonsense to him, flitting from one tangent to the next but telling him to just respond in turn. Jace, sitting down the table, had been glancing warily between them for the whole meal. When Baela made a comment about how Symeon Star Eyes should have just used Alfred Broome's bald head instead of a shield, she'd startled a genuine laugh out of Lucos and Jace had looked panicked. He'd very quickly dragged Lucos away and forced him to spend the morning in the yard instead.
"My Lady," Jace said, bowing and holding his hand out. His back was as straight as a lance and his shoulders were tense. Lucos frowned. That wasn't like Jace. "We have spent nearly a moon apart for the first time since we were children. It would honour me greatly if you were to join me for a dance."
Baela had raised an eyebrow before accepting. There was something off there. Everything Jace said and did was perfect but there was a coldness that Lucos hadn't seen before. Baela had clearly picked up on it too because she sent him questioning looks for the rest of the night. Whatever it was, the Princess figured it out first. She had been glancing between Jace and some knight's daughter he was politely talking to before her expression became cold. She'd marched over to him and sent the young girl away with a glare. Lucos was too far away to hear what was said exactly but he didn't miss the way Jace's face crumpled nor the sneer Baela graced him with before she was leaving him alone in the middle of the hall.
She passed him on her way out and stopped.
"Did you know?" She asked.
"Did I know what?" he asked in confusion, eyebrows scrunching together. His stared hard at her, trying to discern what she had discovered and why he might know of it.
She met his gaze evenly for a minute before the hard look in her eyes softened ever so slightly. She stepped closer and kissed him on the cheek, in full view of the entire hall. The family might have known his relationship to Daeron but the rest of the castle didn't, not for sure. This could very easily be taken the wrong way. Thankfully, Lucos thought, glancing around the hall, not many eyes had been on them. Still, he had to give her credit for sheer nerve.
Stepping back she gave a soft sigh.
"Your friend isn't as good a man as you think he is. I hope you live up to my opinion better than he did." She started to step around him. "Oh. And thank Daeron for dancing with my sister for me. It was a kind gesture."
She stepped around him and walked away.
Lucos looked back across to where Daeron was dancing with Rhaena. After Jace had taken Baela to dance, there had been a flurry of movement. Taking cue from their Prince the men had rushed to ask the lady of their choice and the hall was soon filled with couples dancing at one end and big groups of rowdy men clamouring around each other at the other. Lord Velaryon had danced five songs with his wife before they sat back down in exhaustion. Lucos was impressed it had been so many, given the man's age. In the midst of it all Joffrey had stolen Daeron's cup of wine and took a long gulp. Before anyone could reprimand him, he was pushing his chair back and approaching Lord Celtigar's daughter to ask her for a dance. Lucos had simply laughed.
But then he'd caught sight of Rhaena. Prince Daemon's youngest daughter had put all the effort in for the feast, nevermind that it was only Dragonstone's household present. She wore a long red dress made of fine silk that swayed around her legs as she walked and left her shoulders bare. There were intricate design's weaved in black lace, including at least one artistic version of a dragon, and golden highlights along the trim. Her silver hair fell loosely about her face and down her back. She had a ring of pearls around each wrist and a golden necklace from which hung an eight sided gold pendant with a huge ruby set in it. But there she was, sitting alone at the high table with a despondant expression on her face, watching the other dancers jealously.
Lucerys was her betrothed and he'd left without a word to her at the start of the feast. She hadn't deserved that. Lucos got on with Baela far better than her sister. Baela was bold and daring and adventurous. Lucos knew that there was a edge of pure Valyrian Steel in Rhaena that was as dangerous as any of her siblings; full-blooded, half or step; but she preferred to keep it away and enjoy the life of a typical and dutiful lady. She liked dresses and songs and dancing. She had been trained to use a knife and sat through the boys lessons on history, diplomacy, numbers and letters with them but she far preferred her singing or sewing lessons. She was quiet, polite and dutiful. She had nothing in common with Lucos.
But he couldn't leave her sat there on her own.
As the betrothed of a Prince, none would dare approach her. None but a Prince themself. With Jace and Joffrey already dancing that left only one choice.
Lucos turned to Daeron only to find him already looking in the same place. Their eyes met; granite and amethyst. Lucos recognized the question in them. He nodded and tilted his head towards the lonely girl. Daeron gave him a small smile and stood, trailing his hand over the back of Lucos' and approached the girl. Lucos himself turned to little Egg and Vis. The boys had no interest in dancing and no girls their own age even if they did. They instead wanted to hear about the fight above Storm's End again. Lucos indulged them. He omitted several details; he made it sound heroic and daring and exciting. He didn't tell them about the rush of fear that Vhagar's very presence brought. He didn't tell them about how close Luke came to death. He didn't tell them how Arrax's scales had been shredded by the larger dragons's claws and fangs nor his grizzly end. He could tell them the truth when they were older. For know, he would let them be children.
He had just passed them off to Ser Glendon to take them to their chambers when Baela had approached him.
He stared after her as she made her way out of the hall and then turned on his heel and approached Jace. The Prince was standing there, staring off into space and that guilty look still on his face. Lucos bumped shoulders with him gently.
"What was that?" he murmered into his friends ear.
"I..." Jace started. He closed his eyes. Opened them again. "It was nothing. Let it be. Please."
Lucos did. Jace was his friend. Jacaerys was his Prince.
It was only the morning after that Jace had given them all the full details. About the Corbray brothers turning on their own father to declare for Rhaenyra, about Templeton marching on Strongsong to root out the Belmoore's and any smaller houses that were sympathetic to Aegon. The full details of the Pact he'd made with the Stark's and how he'd actually been beaten to Winterfell by Aegon's letter. Lucos noticed Rhaenyra going tense when that was mentioned. He knew why. A far too similar situation to Storm's End. Thankfully Jace had been a better diplomat than Luke and Lord Cregan a better man than Boremund. And no Aemond, of course.
A few days later and news had come in from the Riverlands. While Quentyn Blackwood's death was a blow, the defeat of the Bracken forces and the fall of Stone Hedge had all but broken Green resistance in the Riverlands. Wayfarer's Rest was all that remained now and the other branch of house Vance was descending with House Piper. Prince Daemon reported that forces from House Darry and Mooton. The complete silence from Riverrun itself was concerning but the Prince had promised to have people keep watch and any indication that Lord Grover intended to march would be met with an immediate and harsh response.
The Massey forces were finally making some progress towards Farring Cross in the Kingswood and there forces in western Crownlands hadn't been outright defeated yet either, despite being outnumbered.
All told Lucos supposed they were due some bad news.
He wasn't prepared for how bad it was.
"Rosby...gone?" Jace gasped.
Rhaenyra had gone white after reading the letter and had simply held it out for Lord Corlys to read. The old man looked mostly unshaken but there was a tightness around his eyes.
"The whole House?" That was Daeron, he'd slumped backwards against his chair and was looking sicker and sicker every passing second. Lucos wondered if his revulsion was at the act itself or that it was his brother who commited it?
"While I doubt every man with Rosby blood perished in this massacre, all acounts agree that all those in the immediate family are indeed gone." Gerardys was stroking his chin thoughtfully.
"At least Stokeworth was spared the same fate." Joffrey had dropped his head into his hands and this was the first time he had moved since the crushing news was read out.
According to Daemon, Aegon had descended on Rosby and burn the army and the castle to the ground without a second thought, wiping out an ancient bloodline and thousands of lives like it was nothing before turning to Stokeworth. Daemon said that reports were unclear about exactly what happened there but that the castle itself still stood. The fate of Lord Olyvar was a mystery though. Daemon himself said that the boy had escaped with the sister before Aegon's arrival and Aemond scouring the Cronwlands with Vhagar certainly seemed to support this but other reports from their agents said that the castle guard had turned him over and he was either dead or a prisoner.
"Except that its armies are now denied to us. Only Lord's Darklyn and Staunton remain to challenge Aegon in the Crownlands," Lucos said.
Princess Rhaenys cursed.
"We should have listened to the boy, Your Grace," she said, gesturing at Lucos. "We have six dragons ready for battle. Any one of us bar Prince Jacaerys could take Sunfyre and Vhagar may be monstrous big and monstrous strong but she is slow. Between the other five, he could be defeated."
Lucos saw Rhaenyra flinch. He had spoken to Maester Gerardys and while the man would not break the Queen's trust, Lucos had managed to discern that Rhaenyra was still suffering physical problems as a result of losing her daughter. He may not know for sure, but Lucos would be willing to gamble a lot that the Queen could not fly.
"What has happened is irrelevant. All that matters is what we can do now." Corlys said, placing a hand on his wife's shoulder.
"Its a nice thought but we've just lost a third of our nearest forces and for all we know, Darklyn has already fallen." Lucos said, tone biting.
"Peace, Lucos," Daeron said calmly. "The road from Rosby to Duskendale is not a short one. If Lord Darklyn holds his ground, we have time to come up with a plan. Daemon's report places Aegon's host at less than five thousand. We have twenty-five hundred at Driftmark ready to sail. Lord Darklyn has some two-thousand gathered. Our best bet may be to gather at Duskendale and face them in the field there."
"I'm not sure pitting our whole army against their's when the odds are one to one is a good idea. We're gambling everything on being able to defeat Aemond before he can turn our army to cinders," Lord Velaryon said, waving his hand over the map towards King's Landing. "The capital remains the best target."
"But without our forces in the Crownlands, Aegon will just turn around. We may take the city in time but we'll struggle to hold it." Lucos protested. "We all agreed that their army needs to be either destroyed or lured away first."
"We don't have the men," Joffrey said pitifully.
"We do have the men from the clans," Baela said. "Between them and the Vale the numbers swing in our favour."
While Luke and Jace had been flying south and north respectively to negotiate with the great houses of the Stormlands and the North, Baela and Joffrey had been given their own task. The pair had flown their smaller dragons to Crackclaw Point and managed to win the allegiance of the various clans there. Baela had been flying back and forth to get reports from the area herself. According to her they had a thousand men marching west along the point towards Maidenpool. Supposedly, Aegon had no idea they were there.
"Only if the Darklyn forces haven't been destroyed by then," Daeron replied. "Otherwise we face the same problem."
"Then we send word to Lord Darklyn and Lord Staunton to gather their strength and head north towards Harrenhal. If they can lead Aegon on a chase, we can leave King's Landing exposed."
"So we have the same plan we had before? Lure Aegon north and hope everything works in our favour?" Lucos cursed and stormed out.
He, Daeron and the Queen had come up with that exact plan weeks earlier. To have their loyal Lords in the Crownlands march north to the Trident and lure Aegon away. Depending on his numbers and theirs, they could then either strike at the vulnerable King's Landing or pincer Aegon between the Crownlanders, the Narrow-Sea army and whatever Riverlords Daemon could muster.
But Aegon had moved too quickly and now half their forces were gone.
Lucos grumbled to himself all the way to the training ground. He would go back and apologise to Rhaenyra for his behaviour later but all the waiting was grating on him. He failed to kill Aemond when he had the chance; his blade had sliced the one-eyed whoreson across the cheek. A few inches and he'd have cleaved half his head off. He wasn't allowed to kill Cannibal. Now he wasn't allowed to take the fight to Aegon either. It was diplomatic fools like Corlys that were holding them back. Lucos respected what the man had done in his life. He was a skilled sailor, naval commander, politician and Lord. But he'd gotten too cautious in his old age.
If Aegon wasn't stopped he'd just keep moving through their bannermen on the mainland, wiping them out piecemeal until they were all gone and leaving them isolated in the sea. The time to fight him was now, when they knew where he was, where he was going, what he was doing. Even better, Aemond was off wreaking havoc in Stokeworth so they'd only have the one dragon to contend with.
Lucos half considered simply taking Sunfyre to Duskendale. Lucos could beat Aegon. Snowfyre could beat Sunfyre.
No. He could offer but that was it. Otherwise he was abandoning his Prince, his Queen and his lover. And his family, above all else. He'd offer. He'd be refused, he knew. But he would offer.
Wrenching a practice sword, Lucos set himself against a training dummy. Hacking and slashing with force. This wasn't true training. This was working his anger out in the only way he knew how and against the only target he was allowed.
"Your form will grow poor," a voice called from behind.
Lucos sighed and turned. Ser Erryk Cargyll stood there, clad in white leathers and a gleaming breastplate. He was swinging a blunted sword experimentally, adjusting his grip ever so slightly to balance the weight better. The man was not as young as he had been when Lucos had first met him. He was nearing thirty now and already there were a few grey strands appearing in his mousy brown hair. He had an easy smile though and an honest look about him. Ser Erryk was among the better of King Viserys' final seven Kingsguard. A good man and a better blade. He and his twin were Lucos' two favourite mentor's. Ser Arryk had always been strange around Jace and his brothers though, cold to Rhaenyra and outright hostile to Daemon. Lucos had wondered but never asked. And now Ser Arryk was a Green, serving Aegon in King's Landing.
"I was just...letting some anger out." Lucos said honestly. Ser Erryk had the habit of slapping him the flat of a blade if he was dishonest to him and the man was suprisingly good at that for someone so...plain, for want of a better word. There were no secrets to uncover, no hidden depth or agenda. He was a brave, loyal and honourable man that could be humourous when he wanted and serious when he needed.
Ser Erryck nodded and readied his sword. Lucos mimicked him in reverse. Ser Erryk, annoyingly, was left handed. Lucos knew all his moves. They were quite standard. But he was used to defending them coming from a right handed attack. It always caught him out.
The Queensguard moved first. His sword was a blur as it came up towards Lucos' face. Lucos stepped back and it whistled harmlessly passed. When Ser Erryck brought it back down towards his left leg, he simply shifted it out of the way and parried the following thrust towards his chest. He launched a shoulder into Ser Erryk's side that sent him stumbling away.
Ser Erryk's game was speed. Lucos was fast too but the knight was a different level. Lucos couldn't match him like that. He could out muscle him though. Ser Erryck was tall and lean with a slim albeit toned build. Lucos was stockier and shorter. More weight in a more compact body. His hits had force behind them.
Ser Erryk laughed.
"Its rewarding to see you don't fall for that anymore." Lucos' face didn't change. Ser Erryck sighed. "Talk to me Lucos. What's truly wrong."
Lucos snorted
"Aegon has free reign to burn our lands at will, slaughtering our men as he goes and instead of doing anything about it, we're stuck here squabbling over what to do."
"Close," Ser Erryk smiled. "But not quite the truth yet. Be honest. With yourself, if no one else."
Lucos grunted and brought his sword down, hard. If it connected it might have shattered Ser Erryk's collarbone. He caught it on his sword and diverted Lucos' blade to the side and then side-stepped around him. The flat of Ser Erryk's sword slapped against his shoulder, leaving a stinging sensation behind.
"I know why you want to kill Aegon. But why are you so insistant on it always being right now?"
"Because I can do it! Why waste time with talk when I can end this all now!"
Lucos thrust towards Ser Erryck. When his sword was parried he turned with the motion and rammed his shoulder into Ser Erryk's chest. He heard the breath escape the older man and tried to follow up with a slash but Ser Erryk ducked under it and the knight brought his sword crashing into his undefended side. Lucos gasped for air and backed off slightly.
"No you can't." Ser Erryk said. He was standing still, his guard down. The smile was gone. He was looking at Lucos mournfully. Ever second under that look; that look that said he was something pitiful, something weak, something helpless; his anger grew. "Even you know that your victory isn't a certainty. So if its not to end the war in fell swoop as you're trying to trick yourself into believing, then why? Why are you so eager to throw yourself into a fight even you are not sure you can win?"
"Because I hate feeling useless!" Lucos roared.
Ser Erryk's guard was down. Lucos lunged, his blade flashing out towards the knight's unprotected face. Lucos felt horrow dawn even as the blade travelled. This was a spar. Practice. He wasn't supposed to try and kill his opponent!
But Ser Erryk caught the blade on his steel vambrace and directed it away from himself, his gauntled hand closing around Lucos' wrist. His eyes widened. He was tugged towards the knight and then there was a boot landing in his chest. Lucos flew backwards, feeling his sword be stripped from his hand, and landed with a heavy thud. He made to stand only to have two sword tips planted over his heart. He stilled. The swords were blunt. They couldn't kill him. But he knew Ser Erryk would make a point now. He didn't move.
"There's the truth. You want to fight because, win or lose, you'd feel like you'd at least tried? That you weren't helpless." Ser Erryk moved the swords away and helped him up. "Why did I win?"
"Because you're faster than me." Lucos replied.
"No." Ser Erryk said, putting a hand on his shoulder. They were both breathing heavily. "I won because I got you angry. I won because you rushed in without thinking it through. If we rush in against Aegon, he and Aemond will kill us all. Not just you. Is that what you want?"
Lucos shook his head and glared at the floor.
"We're not waiting because we're helpless. We're waiting because to do otherwise would be foolish. Because a better opportunity will come. Your opportunity will come. Lord Corlys is experienced. Trust in that experience if nothing else. It'll see us through."
Lucos nodded but couldn't help the sinking feeling in his gut that Ser Erryk was terribly wrong.
At first it seemed the world was determined to prove Ser Erryk wrong and Lucos right. As the days went by with no word from Lord Darklyn, tensions continued to rise on Dragonstone. Jace and Lucos argued more than they had in the whole rest of their life. Rhaenyra, although gaining her strength back slowly but surely, found her temper fraying too, particularly with Lord Corlys. Princess Rhaenys often took Meleys out and flew furious circles around the island to avoid killing someone. Luke continued to be a bitter shadow haunting them all. One day, when Luke had graced them with his despondant presence and malicious remarks, Joffrey had grown tired of it. He'd made a cruel remark about how even Viserys was capable of taking care of his things and Luke had flipped from melancholy to wrathful in a heartbeat. Joffrey had lost two teeth from that encounter. Luke, who was ordered to his chambers by Rhaenyra for the day, stayed locked in for four days and lost another few pounds. When he did finally emerge, Joffrey had come crying to Jace and Lucos swearing that he hadn't meant what he said.
Eventually Daeron was sent to Duskendale to find word in person. He was only gone a single day.
"Darklyn's dead." He reported succinctly. Lucos felt like smashing his head into a wall at the news. He had told them that this would happen. "His army met Aegon's in field a few days ago and was utterly defeated. They were hours away from Duskendale when I left. It won't hold."
Sure enough the next day brought a raven from Lady Darklyn that the gates had been breached and that the Green army was sacking the city.
"We're running out of time!" Lucos had snapped. Joffrey had spoken up in agreement. As had Baela
Jace and Corlys had immediately protested, swearing that the Vale forces had now set sail and would be on Dragonstone in little over a week. Baela had mimicked their voices poorly, making them both sound far more feeble and cowardly than they were and Jace had flushed an ugly colour. They'd been like that since the feast. In public; or as public as possible in an island fortress; they were the perfect couple. Polite and courteous to a fault. In private Jace was acting like he'd gutted her cat and Baela made comments that bordered on cruel. Daeron had to step in and play mediator again. Rhaenyra had stayed silent that time and simply drunk from her chalice. It was refilled twice.
Five days after Duskendale fell, Lucos and Jace were overseeing Aegon and Viserys' training in the yard when Ser Robert Quince wadled up to them. Quince had served as a knight on Dragonstone for over twenty years and had become almost fanatacally loyal to Rhaenyra. That loyalty was the only reason Quince was spared Lucos' scorn. It did not protect him from Princess Baela's.
"My Prince. Ser...er, Lucos," he said. Lucos found it amusing how no one ever quite knew how to address him. He was not a Lord; he held no office nor lands, but he was the last heir to a noble Westerosi house. He was also not a knight; he did however dress and act like one and it was a common secret that he was being groomed for Jace's Kingsguard. He was also not a Prince, despite the fact that on Dragonstone at least he had all the authority of one. "Queen Rhaenyra bids you attend her in the Chamber of the Painted table. At once."
He and Jace had wasted no time, only stopping to inform Ser Lyonel and Ser Adrian to see the young Prince's back to their chambers to change before supper that night, before rushing to the Chamber. Rhaenyra was sitting at the head of the table, a crystal chalice filled with red wine in one hand an unfurled letter in the other. Daeron sat to her right moving piece's around on the Crownlands portion of the large map. Lord Velaryon and Gerardys stood either side of the Queen, both looking abashed. Princess Rhaenys was pacing up and down the room. She stopped when they entered, her face lighting up as she saw Lucos.
"Finally," she said sharply. "The fools won't listen to me alone. This is our chance."
"Mother?" Jace asked, looking at her quizically.
In response, Rhaenyra held up the paper in her hand.
"Rook's Rest is under siege. Lord Staunton reports that Ser Criston and King Aegon are at his gates and begs for aid." There was a glassy look in her eye and a droning quality to her voice that caused Lucos to look at her in concern. He wondered how many times the chalice had been filled already today.
Then he caught up.
"Rook's Rest?" He frowned. "But...But that can't be. Rook's Rest is a fourteen day march from Duskendale, at best. Aegon's army couldn't have..."
He trailed off and his eyes widened.
Rhaenys all but cackled.
"You see it too?" She asked. Lucos nodded dumbly. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Jace staring at the map in amazement. There was a golden dragon piece on Rook's Rest. There was another at Duskendale.
"Aegon couldn't have marched his infantry to Rook's Rest." Jace said. "Not that quickly. Only his horse could have done it. He must have split his army."
A better opportunity will come, Ser Erryk had said. He caught the man's eyes from his position behind the Queen and grinned. The knight nodded back, his face as unmoving as stone but his eyes smiling.
"Princess Rhaenys is right. This is the chance we've been waiting for!" Lucos said excitedly. "How soon can we ferry our troops from Driftmark to the mainland?"
"Five days," Daeron replied. "But it will then take too long to march north and catch up to Aegon's foot. Six if we sail to here and disembark. The landing may be difficult but Lord Corlys assures me his captain's can do it. That would allow us to intercept the host before it rejoins with Aegon with a few days to spare. That said it's almost certainly a trap. Which part of it is the bait I don't know. Maybe both? Maybe neither, Aegon may well just actually be that impatient and arrogant."
"Aemond?" Jace asked.
Daeron shook his head but it was Rhaenys that answered.
"The letter names Aegon by name and declares his dragon to be there with him. It doesn't mention Aemond. Mayhaps he's with the other half of the army. Mayhaps he's still hunting the Stokeworth lands for the child Lord that so vexes them. Either way, he's not with Aegon. He's vulnerable."
"While I agree that this is too good an opportunity to miss, we are still outnumbered. The Vale forces are only..."
"Piss on that My Lord, we've waited long enough! If we wait any longer, the two parts of the army will reunite and the chance will be lost!"
The room fell silent. Lucos almost ducked his head as they all turned to look at him. He forced himself to stay upright. He met their gaze's.
"Your Grace," Corlys started. Rhaenyra held her hand up.
"You have counselled patience and caution my Lord. I have put my trust in your experience and done as you said. And because of that all our armies in the Crownlands have been destroyed. My bannermen butchered. It is time for a change in our path." She turned back to him. "Lucos. Through it all you have advised me to attack. I would hear your thoughts."
She gave him an encouraging smile. He glanced to his left and saw Jace looking back at him with pride (and worry but Lucos was adept at ignoring people worrying for him) and Princess Rhaenys grinning visciously. His eyes met Daeron's and found nothing but warm comfort. He nodded.
Lucos took a deep breath and looked over the map. He took note of all the pieces and paired them with the numbers in his head as best he could. He imagined lines being drawn from where they stood to where he wanted them and paired those lines with more numbers, counting the time it would take. He looked around the room, picking his commanders. Rhaenyra couldn't fly. Tyraxes and Moondancer were too young. At least one rider would have to stay. Two with the army, to face Aegon's infantry and potentially face Vhagar in the sky. One to Rook's Rest to relieve that siege and kill Aegon. He wanted that for himself. The chance to kill that arrogant little toad of an upstart. But could he send someone else to almost certain death if Aemond was with the foot? Could he live with himself if he sent someone else and they died because of it? Which of them could face Aegon and win? Who would be best to leave behind?
He blew out the breath.
"This is what we'll do," he said.
Y'know I actually really like this chapter. I feel like we get a lot of exploration on Lucos' thoughts and quite a few good moments for a fair number of characters.
I tried to emulate Martin a bit with the style of writing (and with the food scene's but I don't think I've quite got that right yet)
Ahehe, I swear I didn't plan on torturing Luke so much. Honestly I didn't really think about what sort of an effect everything would have on him ahead of time and this just sorta...happened. Like my heart hurts for him and I feel awful for doing it. But if I don't feel anything writing it, you won't feel anything reading it and that means I've not done my part properly; to paraphrase GRRM himself.
Anyway. Battle chapter next. Which one? You'll have to wait and see. Anyone want to guess which dragon rider is going where?
