Lucerys the Menace: Reborn

Chapter 7: Return

Arriving at Dragonstone, the salty air whipped through my hair as the ship docked. I headed straight for the training yard, eager to find Jacaerys. He was already practicing, sword in hand. “Ready to lose, little brother?” he smirked, taking his stance. I drew my sword without hesitation. “Lose? We’ll see about that.”

We clashed swords, exchanging blows, the sound of steel echoing in the air. “Come on, Lucerys! That’s your best effort?” Jacaerys taunted. “I thought I was fighting a Targaryen, not a soggy fish!”

“Better a soggy fish than a dull blade!” I shot back, raising my sword again. His movements were fluid, his strikes quick and precise. “Is that the best you can do?” he mocked. “I expected more from the future dragon rider.”

Just as he feinted left, I countered with an upward thrust, catching him off guard. He stumbled. “What was that?” he asked, surprise on his face.

“Guess I’m full of surprises today,” I grinned.

Ser Aryk, who had been overseeing, chuckled. “You might want to ease up, my prince. Let him learn from you.”

Jacaerys regained his balance, irritation mixed with amusement. “Fine. I’ll show you how it’s done, but try not to embarrass yourself too much.”

“Right, because insults are your specialty,” I shot back. “Let’s see who ends up embarrassed today.”

We resumed the duel, each strike fueled by the challenge. It wasn’t just training—it was our bond, the rivalry that made us brothers.

After a series of fast-paced exchanges, I feinted to the right and struck hard from the left. Jacaerys missed the block, and I knocked his sword out of his hand. He stumbled back, and before he could recover, I pressed forward, my sword at his throat. “Gotcha!” I exclaimed, grinning triumphantly.

He blinked, mock-shocked. “Well, this is a new low. Bested by my little brother? Should I start calling you Ser Lucerys the Mighty?”

I lowered my sword, offering him a hand. “It’s not over yet. I just got lucky.”

He took my hand and stood, brushing dirt off. “Lucky? More like skill. Don’t get cocky, next time I’ll put you in your place.”

Ser Aryk chuckled. “You both fight like you’re at war. Don’t let the banter distract you.”

“Right,” I grinned. “But it’s not every day I get to knock Jacaerys down a peg.”

“Just wait until I have my sword back,” he shot back playfully.

We laughed, the rivalry replaced with camaraderie, and for a moment, it felt like nothing could break our bond.

After the sparring, we walked along the beach. Jacaerys was in good spirits. “You surprised me today. Twice.”

“Don’t get used to it,” I replied. “I still have a lot to learn. Speaking of, how do you manage to ride Vermax so well?”

He looked out at the horizon. “It’s about trust. When I first got on him, I was nervous. But once I let go of my fear, it clicked.”

I thought about Arrax, my dragon—huge and intimidating. “What if Arrax doesn’t listen to me?” I asked. “He’s bigger than Vermax.”

Jacaerys chuckled. “It’s not about size. It’s about the bond. Once you’re in sync with him, you’ll have an advantage.”

I smiled. “Maybe I need more confidence. What was it like the first time you flew with Vermax?”

He lit up. “Exhilarating. Terrifying. The wind, the sky... but I did squeak when he made his first dive.”

I laughed, imagining the scene. “I can’t wait. But I’ll need your coaching.”

“Deal,” he said, slapping me on the back. “Next time, I’ll show you how to knock a Targaryen down a peg.”

We laughed again, our bond strong as the crashing waves. Then, Rhaenys Velaryon’s voice cut through the moment. “Your mother needs to see you. Both of you.”

The laughter stopped, replaced by tension. We rushed to the castle, and I felt my heart tighten when I saw Rhaenyra. She was clearly strained from her pregnancy, but still determined.

The Maester stepped forward. “Princess, you need to sit.”

“Mother, you shouldn’t be up,” I said, but she waved us off.

“Lucerys, Jacaerys,” she said, voice strong but trembling. “King Viserys is dead.”

I froze. “Viserys?” The weight of her words hit me like a stone.

“The Greens have taken the throne,” she continued, anger flashing in her eyes. “Aegon is king now.”

Jacaerys clenched his fists. “What do we do?”

“Nothing yet,” Rhaenyra replied, clearly struggling. “Daemon’s gone mad. Gone to plot his war.”

A wave of frustration washed over me. “Let me talk to Daemon. I can reason with him.”

Jacaerys looked at me, surprised. “Lucerys…”

“Please. We can’t afford to lose him. I can get through to him,” I insisted.

Rhaenyra looked torn. “Daemon’s too dangerous.”

“I know,” I said, locking eyes with her. “But if we don’t act, we risk losing him to chaos. I can help.”

Jacaerys reluctantly nodded. “You’ve got a point. Maybe you can reach him.”

As we turned to leave, Rhaenyra’s voice stopped us. “Jace, Lucerys. You’re my heirs now. Whatever happens, you do it by my command.”

Jacaerys stood tall. “We’ll protect your claim, mother. Whatever it takes.”

“We won’t let the Greens take our birthright,” I added.

Rhaenyra nodded, her face softening for a moment. “I’m counting on you both. The road ahead is perilous, but together, you might turn the tide.”