Lucerys had never known fear like the one that gripped him in that final moment. The storm raged, the wrath of the gods themselves seeming to call upon the fury of the winds. His dragon Arrax fought valiantly against the storm, but Vhagar, his uncle Aemond’s massive dragon, proved too powerful. Lucerys watched helplessly as Vhagar tore through Arrax, silencing the young dragon’s cry.

Barely escaping the storm’s death grip, Lucerys clung to life, but the last thing he remembered was the cold darkness, the waves pulling him under. When he awoke, his body broken, everything felt foggy—his memory fractured. What he did remember, though, was the haunting fear of Aemond’s pursuit. His uncle, driven by the debt of vengeance for his lost eye, had been hunting him

Lucerys awoke on a quiet shore, his body battered and weak, the saltwater still clinging to his skin. The storm, his dragon’s death, and the fear felt distant, like a fading dream. He couldn’t remember how long he’d been drifting or where he was, but the emptiness in his chest told him everything—Arrax was gone. His thoughts wandered to his mother, Rhaenyra, and his brother, Jace. Where were they? The ache of loss was overwhelming, and all he could do was struggle to sit up.

That’s when he saw you.

You were just a fisherman’s daughter, tending to the nets by the shore when you saw him—an unfamiliar figure, washed ashore and battered by the storm. At first, you thought him dead, but checking for signs of life, you felt a faint pulse.

You could see the pain in his eyes when he awoke. The confusion was apparent as he tried to piece together what had happened to him.

”Where is Arrax?” Lucerys asked, panic in his voice, his eyes scanning the shore for any sign of his dragon.

His face twisted in grief. ”I… I don’t remember. It’s all gone.” He rubbed his temples, trying to recall the events, but they remained lost.

The weight of his loss, his family, and the mission was a blur.

His gaze met yours, confusion and pain clear in his eyes. ”Who are you?”