"You can't keep denying how beautiful Tarth is." Lucerys walked behind, much more tired than Aemond and with shorter legs. Still, he liked his own pace, for he was able to enjoy the view, while the other Prince kept his head down.
"I have denied nothing." He gave him a sidelong glance. "Only that I have more troubling things to think about."
"I don't think it's going to do any good, Aemond...We're not going to change things much if we're lost, either."
"It's not the war I'm thinking about. It's how we're going to seek an audience with Lord Tarth. Can you think of anything?"
"Yes. We'll tell them who we are."
"And why they should believe us. We look like beggars, and there's no dragon who can prove our lineage."
Lucerys let out a laugh. He saw Aemond give him a look of contempt. Still, he couldn't help but laugh at the thought that he was outsmarting Aemond.
"I have steel bucklers, with the Targaryen crest. And the swords as well."
"They might take us for mere thieves."
"Me they might, but not you. You have a sapphire eye...and by the time we get there your hair will be long enough to show how silver it is. No one will be able to doubt that you are a true Targaryen."
He watched as Aemond relaxed his gaze and nodded. Though that did not make him look any less tense. Sudden regrets flooded through Luke's head, he would have loved to stop him and stare him down and tell him loud and clear that he was a true dragon, and that he stood out among a thousand men, no matter how long his hair might be or the quality of his robes. He decided to do something about it, though it was only the barest hint of what he wanted to say.
"Aemond..." he couldn't help but touch his arm, he waited for Aemond to look him in the face again. "It's going to be alright. We're going home."
If it still existed. But he didn't say that. He just watched as Aemond pretended he hadn't heard anything, even though the way he was relaunching his steps indicated that the rush was gone. It was wrong to think that way, because it would be wrong, but Lucerys had a hunch that told him Aemond had shuffled so that he could walk beside Luke, not in front or behind.
"Have you always been so lousy with weapons?" He asked him suddenly. Luke could only blush.
"Am I that bad?"
"I've seen you handle yourself with both sword and knife and I understand that they were...complicated circumstances but...weapons are for complicated circumstances. Not for hanging out."
"Well, Jace is much better..."
"That has nothing to do with it."
He looked at him as she thought about how to explain it.
"They've trained him a lot more than they train me. And besides, I've never liked those lessons."
"There are few men who don't like to train. Even Aegon likes to train now and then."
"It's just that..." Luke didn't want to speak ill of his brother, especially now that he missed him so much, and on top of that he didn't want to talk about it with a person who had punched him the last time he'd seen him. But Aemond kept insisting with his gaze, and Luke had always been a terrible liar. "Jace is not a good teacher. Practice days are always with him, and he takes it too seriously. He takes everything seriously, and I get in his way and then..."
"He hits you?" He asked seriously, no half-smile, he didn't seem to be looking for something to laugh at either Luke or Jace.
"No, no...he doesn't hit me. But he yells at me, he pushes me...it's kind of violent. And don't misunderstand my words. Jacaerys is a fantastic brother, he's going to be a great man one day. But nobody's perfect."
