Dream Of Winter | C. Stark & H. Targaryen

The Stranger

129 AC

Luke POV

And now my Watch begins.

Luke Waters, formerly prince Lucerys Velaryon, heir to Driftmark and rider of Arrax, was a black brother for almost four years now. Relinquishing all titles, lands and crowns - not that he could claim any after the trial.

He made his vows half-heartedly. He thought about fleeing the desolate Wall many times. His entire life burned into ash within a sennight.

Or more accurately, it was a steady decline. A powerful and inevitable fall since that miserable night at his aunt's funeral.

They were foolish impulsive children. He had no idea why they thought they could confront whichever dangerous 'thief' had asserted his claim to Vhagar, the mount of Rhaena and Baela's recently deceased mother.

Jace took a knife. If they were armed with Blackfyre itself, an adult assailant would take them out quite easily.

But they were, as he said, children.

And when faced with an other child. An arrogant hostile one apparently drunk on his new power - like his brother was drunk on wine - things spiraled out of control.

It's only in the following days, when his mother praised him for defending his family, that Luke tried to put the matter behind him. Neither Aemond nor the Queen would accept an apology if he wanted to offer one.

His mother knew best. She can't attempt to assuage his fears if they were unfounded. If he were in truth the guilty party.

He thought the world of his mother then. But she never put much stock in his word when he or Jace told her that Daemon - who she reiterated they should address as father - was bizarre and definitely plotting something. His eyes were gleaming with some hidden desire when he looked at them. She assured them it was nothing.

This was their father's killer.

It wasn't nothing.

He barely remembers the last words he spoke to her after the hearing. They were to be shipped off the opposite ends of the country. Both exiled for life.

Jace never said goodbye to her when she left. He didn't want to speak to her. He spent time with Daeron instead. Already he had been seduced to their side.

So Lucerys thought. Years later, the wound of their severed brotherhood aches. But noting like the longing for his other half. He's even started to dream of him in his hope for reuniting.

He took his uncle's eye. And his dragon was taken in response.

I may have lost an eye. But I gained a dragon.
The words of a child of ten.

It's almost poetic. A karmic sacrifice.

**

The wind howled through the desolate landscape beyond the Wall, whipping through the furs and cloaks of the ranging party he led.

Half the group consisted of seasoned brothers of the Night's Watch, their faces weathered and marked by the hardships they had endured. They must have chafed at being under the orders of a lad of six and ten. Barely a man. Prince Waters they liked to jest behind his back.

His pride would get him nowhere in this place. He's lucky the Lord Commander took a liking to him - or pitied him - and made him his personal steward. He trained in the yard with more ferocity then he ever cared to at the Red Keep or Dragonstone. His merit alone would raise him up. He had no name.

The rangers trudged through the snow-covered terrain, their breaths visible in the freezing air as they pressed onward.

Lucerys was clad in the black garb of the Night's Watch, his steel sword Whitesmoke strapped to his side. He tried to exud an aura of command and resilience. Weakness would leave him a feast for the crows.