The Heir to Driftmark
Lucerys pat the side of Arrax neck as they flew through the tempest over Storm's End. He had been surprised when his mother had asked him and Jacaerys to be her messengers to the lords of the Seven Kingdoms...maybe not Jace.
His brother was good with this kind of things, he was born to be an heir, Lucerys was sure of it. He was less confident, less charming, maybe it was because if Jace didn't care about not being ser Laenor' son, because he was a Targaryen and that was all that mattered, Lucerys was less inclined to think the same way.
He felt neither worthy of being a Velaryon and neither of being a Targaryen and it had nothing to do with his birth. He was the heir to Driftmark and until his brother had children of his own he was the next in line after him. The Driftmark or the Iron throne, Luke felt like he should be entitled to both, and yet as if he was unworthy of either.
It made him steam with fury, what they had done to his mother — usurping her crown that way and he knew that if he just had looked a little bit more like ser Laenor instead of ser Harwin... maybe nothing of this would have happened — and now his mother would be ruling from Kings Landing, on the Iron throne as it was supposed to be.
What really enraged him was that Aegon — the prick — had been crowned king with the crown of the conqueror, the very same crown Jace used to say he wanted to be crowned with, one day. Privately, Luke would've wanted to have the bravery to admit he wanted one day to be crowned with the conqueror's crown too, but that could never be. He would never usurp his own brother.
Arrax was anxious, as he always was when he felt how nervous Luke was. Luke didn't want to be so nervous, so he rolled his shoulders and let the rain wash over him, cleansing him.
It doesn't matter, Jace had told him, what they say about us doesn't matter at all. The only thing that matters is that we are Rhaenyra Targaryen's sons. He had grabbed his shoulder with a hand and had added, we're Targaryens and that's the only name that matters. No one, not all the lords of the Realm, not our uncles, and not Daemon. Not even the Gods can take away our birthright.
Luke let those words fill him with pride and confidence. No matter what everyone else said, he was a Targaryen, his blood was the blood of Aegon the Conqueror and he rode Arrax, a dragon that had hatched for him.
He was Lucerys of House Velaryon, son of Rhaenyra Targaryen — and ser Harwin Strong, the strongest man of the Seven Kingdoms, the Breakbones — and prince to the Seven Kingdoms, second in line to the Iron throne after his brother and heir to Driftmark — Corlys must've known. Princess Rhaenys knew perfectly well and she had always proved especially cold toward them because of it, so Corlys must've known and he still wanted him as heir.
Lord Baratheon would not turn him away, he decided, he would prove to the world he was worthy of his Targaryen name and of his ancestry as much as his uncles were desperately try to prove as well.
He would turn his anxiousness in power.
He would face lord Baratheon with the Targaryen's fire in his eyes, a fire he'd recognize and that'll make him remember his vow before the Iron throne and to support his mother.
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Kissed by Fire ~ Kissed by Steel (MAINSTORY 1) by ReginaRubie
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