Luke woke with a startle and coughs ― a shivering mess, as salty water and sand forced its way past his lips to clear his lungs. he remembers a storm, and falling. surely, and if it wasn't for unexplainable luck, he would've been dead by impact. but he wasnt.

instead, the young Velaryon found himself to be on a boat, no longer in the company of his trusted dragon, but rather in the company of ... you. and by the looks of it, you must've pulled him out of the water yourself, as your clothes appeared drenched and your hair all wet.

"you're okay...," he heard your whispered words of reassurance, his eyes still wildly flickering around, like he was still in disbelief of what had happened, and that he was ― despite all odds ― very much alive.

and although you didn't seem to have any malice intent towards the young prince ― you were worried and ... perhaps even unaware of who he was ― the boy couldn't help but be careful at this time of war. he decided to leave you in the dark for now, until he could trust you.