Chapter Text
"His clothes appear to be quite fine,” you remarked looking at the young boy who was still unmoving. “Could be someone important.”
“That's enough out of you,” your father rebuffed as he pulled the boy from the water with a great heave. “It’s a wonder he didn’t drown. And his clothes don’t matter now that they’re soaked to the bone. Now are you going to help me or not.”
You lifted the boy’s legs over the rowboat, helping your father placing him on some bags of hay. As your father joined you in the boat you worried your lip when he began to row.
“Mother won’t be happy,” you remarked as you looked at the boy with the fine clothes and dark hair. “We didn’t get enough fish for the week, which means we will be going out again. And that’s another mouth to feed.”
“You leave that to me.”
And you had. When you returned back to your family cottage, you had gone to your bedroom. You heard your mother give your father an earful on exactly what you told him she would. But just like the stray cat you had brought home a few years ago, you couldn’t be shocked when this boy would stay.
Your mother had tasked you with taking his wet clothes off of him. Now, he was dry in some old clothes your brother once wore and in your sister’s old bed.
That night you smelt the stew your mother cooked but the boy had not woken later that day. He did not wake for days. He was silent in your bed as he slept while you were in your sister’s old bed that had become empty ever since she married the farmer a village over.
Nearly a week later, he woke with a wheezing breath.
“It’s alright!” You attempted to sooth him, moving to his side, touching his shoulder. “You’re alright.”
He looked around the room, obviously confused. “Where am I?” He croaked.
“You’re in my room,” you deadpanned. “My father and I were fishing when we found you on the shore. You’re lucky, most drown in those waters.”
He frowned like he was trying to remember something but could not grasp it.
“What’s your name?”
He looked at you but couldn’t give an answer. “I could not say.”
“That’s alright,” you said with a smile even though it was not alright. “When you remember it, tell me, though.”
It was weeks later when your new friend’s memories seemed to be returning to him. He could vaguely remember a brother he told you he called him Luke.
That day on your way back from fishing you had grinned. “Luke! Now that’s a fine name, isn't it father?”
Your head had turned back to cast a glance at your father who agreed. “A nice name to be sure lad.”
Since he woke up you had taken the boy you found on the shore fishing with you and your father. One day you had told him the story of how your brother had died when the fever came to your village.
“Don’t you ever wonder what happened to your family?” You asked him curiously.
“Of course,” he told you and in times like these, you thought you might’ve known who he was. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I think you’re a lord.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Is not!”
“Yes, it is. Of course, I’m not a lord. I don’t even know how old I am.”
“Old enough to catch bigger fish than I can,” you told him. “And you got that way of speaking. Just like a lord.”
“I’m not a lord.”
“If you say so,” you shrugged. “Though if you are I’ll never let you forget it.”
He laughed like he knew that at least to be true.
Luke woke up to a nightmare oftentimes but they always came in fragments. Tonight was not such a night. As you shared a bedroom, you could sometimes hear his sleep ridden panic.
“It’s alright, Luke. Don’t worry, it’s only a dream,” you tried to assure and calm him.
He sat up fully. With a shocked expression, he turned to you. The moonlight made his face look even fairer than usual and a haunted look gleamed in his eyes.
“It was a dragon. I was being chased by a dragon. It was massive.”
“It’s just a dream like I said. Only those Targaryens have dragons and they don’t exactly chase people like us with them.”
A beat of silence passed and you only grew in worry.
“You always say I act like a lord.”
You frowned. “That does not matter now.”
“It does,” he said with finality as the truth washed over him. “I am a lord, or I will be.”
“You’re tired,” you said desperately. “It was a nightmare Luke that is all.”
“It’s more than that, Y/N. I’m a prince. I’m Lucerys Velaryon, son of the rightful Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen and heir to Driftmark.”
Neither of you sleep a wink that night as he explained everything to you. How his grandsire, the King, had died and his uncle stole his mother’s throne. How he had been sent to Storm’s End to gain Lord Borros support only for his uncle, Prince Aemond, to demand Lucerys’ eye. When he refused, Aemond chased him on Vhagar. The dragon had tore Lucerys’ dragon in half, sending him falling to the sea.
He went into depth on his family. He loved his mother and brothers but his uncles hated him. Because Laenor Velaryon was not his true father he was called inferior, a bastard.
“I cannot believe you survived,” you told him quietly. “It is a miracle your memory came back to you at all.”
He nodded and met your eyes, a sheepish look on his face.
“I do not like these uncles of yours,” you jested, though you truly did not like them both. “The… what did you call it? Usurper and the one with the crazy dragon. They seem very unhinged.”
He laughed genuinely at that. The fact that you insulted the current King and a prince was not unnoticed.
“I can’t believe you’re a prince. I told father your clothes were very fine!”
“You are often right though I don’t always admit it.”
“More people should, it would make life so much easier.”
“I have to go back,” he said after a moment with remorse. “I could stay here forever but now that I know…”
His voice trailed off but you understood his meaning. His brothers and mother needed to know he lived. Not to mention the girl he was betrothed to waited for him.
“You have to return but you cannot go alone.”
He looked shocked. “You don’t have to—”
“I do. I cannot let you go alone.”
When the morning came you went to your father and told him everything. He didn’t object and only told you to be careful before he added, “You’re not going to let go of being right about the clothes, will you?”
You shot him a look that told him of course you would not let that go but you hugged him tight anyways. You and Luke borrowed two of your sister’s horses on her husbands farm and were off.
The journey was long but was uneventful which was a blessing. In a bag you had his old clothes as you feared the people that awaited you might not believe him.
Dragonstone was glorious and unlike anything you had seen. When you walked the bridge with Lucerys you felt out of place.
“State your purpose,” a man in silver armor said to you, not seeing Lucerys yet.
“I—” you faltered, turning around. “What does that even mean?”
He stepped forward. “I am Prince Lucerys Velaryon. I demand to see her Grace at once.”
Despite the common clothes he wore you gathered some recognition in the man’s eyes. “Follow me,” he ordered and despite hating being told what to do in such a way, you followed him.
“This is your home?” you whispered under your breath. The doors were enormous as two other men dressed like the first man opened them. “Why are they nodding at you?”
“It’s a sign of respect. I’m their prince.”
“Oh yes, very well then,” you mocked.
“Wait here,” the man said and left with haste.
“You are nervous?” Luke asked.
“This place is strange. That man is strange. I… don’t belong here with your family. I shouldn’t be staying so long.”
Before he could say anything the guard returned. “This way, my Prince. Her Grace will see you now and wants the girl to come too.”
You looked at Luke, annoyed at how that man talked about you like you weren’t there. Even in your village you had always been spoken to with respect but people here treated you like you were a pest. Either way, you followed Luke as he went into a room so large that it seemed a waste of space.
“Lucerys,” a woman with hair so silver it did not appear to be blonde and light purple eyes moved towards Luke. “I could not believe it when Ser Erryk told us of your arrival. We thought you were dead.”
You stood behind Luke and remained further back as he went to his mother who you had no doubt was a Targaryen.
The other person in the room, a tall man with hair and eyes so similar to the woman, eyed you.
Your mother had told you from a young age that staring was rude but you could not stop yourself as you squinted at him despite vaguely knowing who this man was.
“Who is this?” he asked your friend.
“This is Y/N. Her father pulled me out when I washed ashore. If it were not for her family I would be dead.”
He only nodded at you and you could not discern the meaning of it.
The woman pulled back from Lucerys and placed a hand on his shoulder as she looked at you for the first time. “You saved my son?”
You nodded.
“You will address the Queen,” the man from earlier with armor said behind you by the doors.
You whipped your head around at his audacity.
“It is fine, Ser Erryk. Leave us.”
And he did, much to your pleasure.
Looking back at her you said, “My father and I were fishing when we saw him floating ashore, your Grace.”
“He has been staying with you since you found him?” The man with the silver hair asked.
“Yes,” you said hesitantly. Their questions made no sense. “We help each other in my village. We couldn’t leave him there to die.”
“We would not accuse you of such a thing.”
The reassurance only relieved you a little.
“She helped me find my memories, mother,” Luke said in your defense even when it wasn’t needed. “Her family fed me even when they were short on food. I could remember what Aemond did at Storm’s End because of Y/N.”
The mention of his uncle had you scowling after what you learned he had done and surprising you, the man with the silver hair chuckled.
“The crown owes you a debt, Y/N,” she said to you. “Whatever you desire will be yours if you name it.”
You were puzzled. “My sister leant us two horses to get here, your Grace, but I can only travel with one. I would humbly ask you to give me enough coin so that my sister could purchase another.”
She looked perplexed at this. “This is all you desire?”
You nodded. She turned to the man and they shared a confused look like they didn’t understand you.
“She is not like the other people at court, mother,” Lucerys spoke up. “She didn’t save me because I was a prince. It is not her people's way. Unlike the lords of the kingdom that have sided with Aegon she only knows honor.”
The woman nodded, this time understanding. “Jace will want to see you as soon as we tell him. As will Rhaena,” she smiled. “The very least we can do is allow your friend to stay the night. Tomorrow she can ride back to her village but tonight she will be our honored guest.”
As you left with Luke, you had not curtseyed which even the Queen and King Consort ignored.
“Your family is strange,” you said as soon as the door closed. “My niece and nephew will never believe me, you know, when I tell them I met the Queen and saved her son.”
He smiled warmly. “We cannot all be fisherman’s daughters, Y/N.”
“A good thing,” you told him. “If we all were then there would be no fish to catch.”
“And no princes to save.”
“Very true.”
As you walked through the castle you were both certain of one thing— life was not going to be the same as soon as you would leave his company. Friendship in war tasted bittersweet.
Behind close doors the Queen and King Consort spoke to one another.
“It is time that we send a letter to Alicent Hightower,” Rhaenyra said as she turned to Daemon. “Let her know that either the usurper can step down and Prince Aemond can not lose his life for the attempted kinslaying of Lucerys or they will all die screaming.”
“I should have sent Blood and Cheese to the castle. A son of Aegon’s would already be dead.”
“It was too rash, I told you,” she retorted. “This is better. It has been over a month of silence. They are waiting for us to strike now that they think Lucerys dead.”
“And now that he lives?”
Rhaenyra smiled at him. “We will make them cleave and take what is mine.”
“Very good, your Grace.”
“We need her, though.”
“The fisherman’s daughter?” he asked, baffled.
“She is loyal, don’t you see? We need loyal friends to the crown and the new order I’m going to build.”
Daemon considered it. Realizing she was right he nodded. “She may help us win over small folk too. One look at her and it is clear she is common born. The sway she may hold to some would be in your favor.”
“So it’s settled. The throne will be mine.”