EACH DAY, THE NUMBER OF HEADS UPON THE SPIKES ALONG THE CITY GATES GROWS ; his mother's inquisitors following every whisper they could catch on the streets, dragging people from their homes with an almost relentless bloodlust. he had long started to wonder if the rising count of deaths, perhaps, is born out of Rhaenyra's frustration the uncomfortable fact that the one she wished dead the most, had escaped the city before they had taken it. weeks have passed now without a word of Aegon, and with each new cut added to his mother's skin while seated on that horrendous trap they call a throne, he can see her growing more and more agitated.
a part of him is glad to have left the city. concern remains for Joffrey, left behind as the last of his brothers, and Daemon's looming presence forever fills him with dread, but if there is but a slither of good in him coming here, it may well be worth it at the end.
one look at Abby suffices and Lucerys knows that here, indeed, is where he is meant to be. whatever has become of Larys, he doesn't know, but the young woman before him is family. not openly, never, but this one secret remains the worst-kept one in the history of the Seven Kingdoms. he is well aware of how alike he and Harwin look, now that the years have passed and Luke has shed boyhood entirely. dark curls softly falling into his face, broad shoulders, a strong back, his father's facial expressions quite often flitting over his face. what may be painful for Abrogail, he hopes, might also provide a bit of comfort. just as his embrace is supposed to the very moment she practically flings herself against his chest ; and his arms immediately close around her.
one hand at the back of her head, the other wrapped around her trembling shoulders ; he pulls her tight against him, just as unwilling to let go as she apparently is and a soft kiss is pressed atop her head, his nose soon gently buried in her red hair, while he gently shushes her. " I've missed you, too. so very much. " she is home, too. all that is good and still left of his father in this world. and he knows what those tears mean ; can guess what has happened to her while under Daemon's imprisonment. the hatred rising in his chest is an unfamiliar one. a burning desire to hurt, to fight, to leave the very cause for all this pain burned and dead in these very halls that could have been his by birthright if only he had been allowed to be himself.
" you're safe now, " a soft murmur against her hair, his fingers soothingly running through the red strands. " he won't come near you again, I promise. " sweet, gentle, soft Lucerys. overlooked, unheard, and forever underestimated. while his embrace merely tightens, it is Cannibal who roars his rider's fury into the world ; a devastating threat that has the walls of the castle shaking.
one more kiss is pressed to her forehead this time, and he lifts her chin just enough to find her gaze. it is from her, he realizes, that he has the blue in his eyes ; intermingled with the bright lilac hinting towards his Targaryen heritage. " not all is lost yet. Helaena is alive, as is Alicent. I'm sure they can use your comfort if I can find a way to arrange for it. " there has to be some power, after all, in being heir to the throne, now that Jacaerys is dead. a terrible fate he is not sure Abby even knows about.
