Chapter Text
He'd told his mother he was fine. Even convinced her to return to her duties, all the sums and letters waiting for her in her solar. Dragonstone did not run itself and the reports coming in from the Velaryon fleet would not stop just because his father was gone.
It had not been easy either. His mother had offered her couch when Lucerys had told her he simply wanted to rest. She'd finally acquiested to simply tucking him into his bed.
The problem was... once she left, he couldn't sleep. Long shadows twisted, growing tall upon the walls of his bedchamber.
His fingers twitched over the bandage on his neck as he stared up at the canopy of his bed. The deep blue fabric almost identical to his favorite blanket. The one with the Velaryon seahorse stitched on the top.
It was in his brother's room. The blanket. Jacaerys let him borrow it whenever he asked, but the blanket was his brother's. A gift from their grandfather so he'd always have a piece of their father's heritage, even when he took on the Targaryen name.
His grandmother had given him a similar one, with the Targaryen dragon on it. But Lucerys liked his brother's blanket better. He'd huddled with Jacaerys underneath it all the time when he was little. When storms rattled the windows, or a simple nightmare had scared Lucerys from his bed.
Jacaerys always let him hide in his room and he never sent Lucerys away, never made him admit why he'd come either. His big brother always protected him from any nightmares or shadow monsters, or even cruel rumors.
Kicking at his sheets, Lucerys stumbled from his bed. He ducked his head out into the hallway. The guard assigned to him arched a brow, but the man was alone. Helaena's door, with the three knights stationed around it, was around the corner. Out of sight.
Finger pressed to his lips, Lucerys slipped from his room and across the hall to his brother's. He felt the guard's eyes on his back, but the man didn't move from his post. Didn't make any noise that might alert anyone else nearby.
No one needed to know he was sneaking into his brother's room to search for a blanket, like a child who needed some sort of special toy to sleep. He was three and ten. He didn't need such things.
Though he did still have his stuffed seahorse in a basket in his withdrawing room...
His brother's rooms were a near mirror to his own and Lucerys quickly found the blanket. Washed after his brother's departure and returned, folded, to his bed. He snatched it up and immediately wrapped it around himself.
Exhaling, he made his way back to his room. Steps much steadier. Not at all rushed or hurried. His guard ducked his head in a quick bow to hide his smile. Cheeks flushed, Lucerys darted inside.
Even with the blanket, his mind wandered back to that morning. He shuddered, pulling the blanket tight as he curled up on his bed.
The blade had been cold against his flesh, like ice, as it cut into his neck.
Throat bobbing, Lucerys sat up again. He took a slow breath. Then he fetched Merling from the basket.
His old toy was worn, a bit battered, but the pale blue fabric remained soft. The careful stitching still entact. Eyes, mouth, and most of the scales accounted for. He clutched the stuffed seahorse to his chest and climbed back into bed.
A shadow rose in his periphery just as his eyelids started to sag. Lucerys sprang from the bed. A sob slipped from his lips as he huddled on the floor.
Nothing had touched him. Or moved even. Nothing. No one. The candle on his bedside flickered and the shadows danced around him regardless.
He was alone, chest heaving as his head turned back and forth. Scrambling for the wall, Lucerys tried to keep every corner of his rooms in his sight. An impossible feat, with his back pressed to the stone wall.
His room was too big, with too many doors. Even closed, locked and barred, Lucerys didn't think he could sleep with all the shadows underfoot.
Climbing to his feet, Lucerys held tight to his seahorse, to his brother's blanket. He sniffled.
And then he fled to his uncles' room at the end of the hall.
The guard called his name, but Lucerys shushed him and then slammed the door. He scrubbed at his face, blinking away tears as they threatened to fall.
A quiet knock followed. Lucerys tugged open the door again and looked up at the guard. Not very much even. He'd been nearly the same height as Jacaerys when his brother left.
Might even be taller, now.
"I'm fine, I... I'm going to wait for my uncle, that's all," Lucerys lied, chin rising high. The knight furrowed his brow, but gave a short nod.
"As you say, my prince," the man crossed the hall. He took up a position directly across from the door. His smile was tight, "I won't allow anyone to disturb you then, until he arrives?"
Lucerys smiled back at him. He thanked the knight quietly and closed the door. Back to the wood, Lucerys surveyed the smaller space. One room, really. With just a privy connected.
Two doors. No windows.
Lucerys glanced from one bed to the other. Both were pushed against a wall. The sheets and blankets neatly folded.
He knew well that Aegon was the messy sort. With him gone, Lucerys assumed the one with the haphazardly stack of books piled beneath the bed out of the way and the folded blankets on top had to be his.
It wouldn't do to annoy Aemond. Not right now. Lucerys had barged into his room once already, just that morning.
His throat bobbed as he remembered Aemond's withering look when Lucerys caught sight of the scar twisting across his back.
And now, after what had happened, with the queen in such bad shape...
Yes, Aegon's bed would be safest.
Lucerys crawled across the mattress. He wrapped himself in his brother's blanket and held tight to Merling. His back flush against the wall. From here, he could see every corner. Both doors.
Fingers tracing the stitches of his stuffed seahorse, the scales stitched across the body. Lucerys focused on his breathing. On being calm.
His aunt had made him the seahorse. Laena's smile had been bright and cheerful, like Rhaena's. She'd given excellent hugs. When she visited in his youth, when his parents had flown so often with her and Daemon, she would sometimes read to him and brush his hair.
On his fifth birthday, Laena had graced him with that smile of hers. She'd presented Merling to him with a flourish before ruffling his hair. With a wink, she'd said the seahorse matched one his father had, that her grandmother had made for the future Lord of the Tides.
"Every Velaryon is a seahorse, and the Lord of the Tides must learn from a young age to hold us all close while he sleeps, so we can keep one another safe."
His father had flushed crimson, ducking his head as he admitted to still having his own worn and battered stuffed animal somewhere in his rooms. Jacaerys had wanted to see it. His smile a bit wobbly as Lucerys named Merling for the king who'd gifted the Velaryons' their throne.
His father was a proper knight. An honorable man. Fearless. If he still had his toy, then surely Lucerys had nothing to be ashamed of for keeping his.
Jacaerys would mock him, even, for thinking such a thing.
He hugged Merling closer. Yes. This was perfectly normal. A good thing, really. Lucerys had been neglecting his duty to Merling as late. Aunt Laena would be quite cross, if she knew.
Maybe he'd give a stuffed seahorse to his own heir, one day. Or even Merling himself. Though, he'd always imagined his own toy would find his second home with one of his cousin's children. So they could have a bit of their grandmother to remind them of their Velaryon heritage too, like Jacaerys' blanket would do for him.
Head lulling against the pillow, Lucerys smiled. His eyes fluttered close.
For now, Merling was still his, and his Aunt Laena had given him strict instructions to hold him close.
The single candle he'd lit in on the side table didn't shake so much as the one in his own room. Or perhaps there were simply fewer shadows...
Either way, with Merling in his arm, his brother's blanket around his shoulders, Lucerys found himself finally fading. Finally relaxing enough to rest, as he'd promised his mother he would.
It didn't hurt that the room had that faintly crisp scent of his uncle's favorite soap. The bed too.
He wondered if Aemond ever slept in his brother's bed. If he missed Aegon as much as Lucerys did his own brother. If he ever huddled up like a child... seeking comfort in the familiar relics of his childhood.
Nose scrunching up, the thought hit Lucerys then, as sleep finally overtook him.
Any toys and blankets from his uncles' childhoods wouldn't be on Driftmark. They'd be in King's Landing.
Hopefully, his father would think to grab them then, for Aegon. If he was half as bad as Baela said, his eldest uncle would need much more comfort than he did.
His throat barely hurt at all even. Barely a scratch.
It only hurt to swallow a little bit.
Dark hair splayed out on the pillowcase, Lucerys curled tighter in his sleep. He didn't notice the few long silver strands stuck to the blanket around him. Or the matching ones, on the pillow beneath his cheek.