Lucerys the Menace: Reborn

Chapter 16: Continued

The Green Council

Aegon leaned back in his chair, his brow furrowed, still digesting the tense exchange. He took a deep breath, the wine not yet settling in his veins. His thoughts raced as he considered their next steps, the weight of the crown pressing down on his shoulders.

Aegon finally broke the silence with a blunt question. "And what of the hunger in King's Landing?" His voice was edged with impatience. "The Velaryon blockade is choking us. If we cannot feed the city, we cannot secure loyalty. What will we do about that?"

Alicent’s gaze shifted, calculating. "That is precisely why securing House Tyrell’s support is so important. They control the grain supply, Aegon. If we win their favor, we ensure food reaches the city, and with it, the people’s loyalty. They are the key to survival in these trying times."

Otto, ever the tactician, nodded in agreement. "I will ensure that House Tyrell pledges their support—both in terms of food and military strength. I have already made the necessary overtures."

Aegon glanced at his grandfather, his tone still skeptical. "And how exactly will you manage to secure their loyalty? What assurances can you give them?"

"Everything they want," Otto replied with a cold smile. "Land, titles, influence. Highgarden is a rich prize, and they know it."

"And once we have their banners, what do we do with the Targaryen bastards?" Aegon asked, his voice blunt and devoid of emotion. "How do we use them to win this war?"

Larys Strong leaned forward, a sly grin spreading across his face. "I have eyes and ears in the city, Your Grace. I can spread the word among the common folk. Word of Targaryen bastards rising up to fight for their rightful place. They would rally to their cause, and we could create an army to rival the Blacks."

Aegon’s gaze darkened, his lips pressing into a thin line. "But what of the legitimacy of it all? If I raise bastards to fight in my name, what does that say about me?"

Otto raised an eyebrow, his voice tinged with disapproval. "It would be hypocritical, Your Grace. The entire basis of your claim to the throne lies in religious right, the divine will of the gods. Bastards on the battlefield would undermine that legitimacy."

Aegon slammed his fist on the table, the force of it rattling the goblets. "No," he spat, his voice low but fierce. "The people don’t care about legitimacy. They care about power. I will not let those bastards hold all the cards while I sit idly by. We will show them that the Targaryen blood runs strong—bastard or no."

Alicent’s eyes softened, but her voice was resolute. "Aegon is right. We use everything we have. No more playing by the rules. We need Tyrell support and we need to move fast."

Otto opened his mouth to protest, but Alicent held up her hand, silencing him. "The time for debating is over. We will act swiftly. Secure Tyrell support. Mobilize the city. And prepare for war. For Aemond."

The room fell silent again, the weight of her words sinking in. The fire crackled, its light flickering across their faces. The path ahead was clear, but dangerous. And with it, the stakes of the throne grew higher than ever.

Dragonstone

The next morning, the stillness of Dragonstone was pierced by the heavy sound of Lucerys Velaryon’s boots hitting the wooden deck of a ship docked in the shadow of the island's cliffs. The breeze swept through the sails, but it was the weight of his purpose that carried him forward. His mother’s cause needed more than just steel; it needed the loyalty of those who wielded influence in the shadows. And he knew just where to find such an ally.

As he stepped onto the ship, he was met by the cool, calculating gaze of Lady Mysaria, standing at the ship's helm, her expression unreadable.

“Who are you?” Mysaria asked, her voice smooth but carrying a hint of curiosity. She had known many men who had sought her favor, but the young prince before her was different. His presence was assertive, even in these grim surroundings.

Lucerys, unfazed by her question, straightened, his shoulders squared. “I am Lucerys Velaryon, Prince of Dragonstone, and I come seeking your help.”

“My prince,” she greeted, her voice laced with both respect and caution. “What is it that you seek?”

Lucerys inclined his head, not breaking his stride as he approached her. “I seek a way to secure support for my mother,” he said, his tone firm. “The common folk are hungry, cold, and desperate. We need to send food to King’s Landing. It will give them a reason to rally to my mother’s cause.”

Mysaria studied him for a long moment, her lips curling into a small, knowing smile. “Food... A noble cause, indeed,” she mused, her voice soft. “But what would you offer in return for my assistance?”

Lucerys met her gaze, his eyes sharp. “A position in my mother’s council. Mistress of Whisperers,” he said, his voice cool, as though the offer was nothing more than a mere formality. “You will have power. Information. Everything you need to move in the shadows and affect change.”

Mysaria raised an eyebrow, intrigued, but her smile never faltered. “And what makes you believe I will trust you with such a position? You, who are so young, so inexperienced?”

Lucerys’s gaze hardened. “I may be young, but I have the vision and the drive to see this through. My mother will know the value of your loyalty when the time comes. And you will be introduced to her.”

Mysaria regarded him for a moment longer, her eyes gleaming with unreadable thoughts. Then, without another word, she extended her hand to him.

Mysaria raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "Why couldn’t you simply have the food sent to King’s Landing by boat or ship?" she asked, leaning slightly forward.

Lucerys, his face etched with determination, gave a slight shake of his head. "The Greens will be watching every ship that comes and goes," he replied quietly. "I need more than just a delivery. I need information, and I need the food hidden discreetly, somewhere they won't notice. You have the network in King’s Landing, Mysaria. I trust you to ensure it’s done without drawing attention."

“Very well, my prince,” she said, her voice as smooth as silk. “Consider it a pact. Your food will reach King’s Landing. But know this—you will not have my loyalty for free.”

Lucerys took her hand, his grip firm and unwavering. “It is a deal,” he said, his voice low. “And in time, you will have more than just loyalty from House Targaryen.”

As the ship set sail from Dragonstone, Lucerys stood at the bow, the wind whipping through his dark hair. His thoughts were already on the next move, the next step in his plans. Mysaria was but one piece of the puzzle, but with her at his side, the game had changed. His mother’s cause would have the support it needed, and with the common folk behind them, the war for the Iron Throne would take a different turn.

The world was shifting, and Lucerys Velaryon was ready to reshape it to his will.

Author's Note:
Happy New Year! I know it's a bit late, January 5th to be exact, but hey—better late than never, right? I hope you all enjoy this chapter! I’d love to hear your thoughts or any suggestions you have for how we should move the story forward. The stakes are high, alliances are shifting, and things are about to get even more interesting. Let me know what you're thinking!