*ROAAAAAAAAAAR*
An earth shattering roar emanated from above the clouds above Kings landing. Small folk looked up, though instead of awe they felt fear; it had been five years since the dance of dragons above Kings landing and it showed everyone how truly dangerous the creatures were. Dropping down from beneath the clouds was Arrax, Luke's Dragon. The Targaryen prince had journeyed from Dragonstone alone, deciding that waiting for his party would take too long, when the trip was only an afternoon.
Luke looked down on the city as he directed Arrax towards the Dragonpit. It had been mostly fixed since it's burning five years ago, the some parts were too ruined to ever be repaired. He felt a slight stinging in his heart, as he thought about that day. Laenor Valyrian may not have sired him, but he was his father of that Luke was certain. They passed the cracked arch and set down in the pit, Arrax's wings kicking up a tornado of dust and grit. The keepers came at a trot and bowed with their hands open.
"Rytsas, Prince Lucerys." (Greetings, Prince Lucerys.)
"Rytsas," Luke answered, swinging down from the saddle. He stroked Arrax's neck. "Lykiri, ñuha zaldrīzes." (Calm, my dragon.) Arrax settled and lay down on the ground letting out a trill. Luke turned to the men. "Iopāz rōva. Bantis naejot Red Keep issa." (I need a horse. I must reach the Red Keep at once.) They moved quickly, following his orders to the letter. A boy ran for tack. Another brought water for the dragon. Luke took the reins when they were handed to him and put a foot in the stirrup, but hooves drummed at the gate flashed and the pit filled with men, one of them familiar . Ser Criston Cole rode at their head and pulled up short. Half a dozen or so guards were at his back.
"I did not expect you here Lucerys," he said. It did not take a genius to see the contempt he felt for the boy.
"Prince Lucerys," Luke replied, a blank expression on his face. It was a small thing, but he wouldn't let Criston forget he was his lesser.
"And I sent a raven." He had not, not until he was already in the air. He purposely wanted to avoid a situation like this.
Ser Criston's smile did not reach his eyes. "Had we known, we might have ordered a proper party to greet you, my prince."
"That is not needed," Luke said, waving him off which made Cristons eye twitch. "I have come to see my family. It is no great occasion."
"Then perhaps you will allow us to do our duty," Ser Criston said. "We will escort you to the Red Keep."
"Of course," Luke said. "That is your only charge."
It irked him, which pleased Luke more than it should. He put heel to the horse and let the guards form around him. They rode out of the pit and down the hill. He kept his head forward snd his face blank as he considered various possibilities. Could this be a trap? It was possible, but not likely. It was much more likely that they would walk him through the gates with banners and trumpets, then mark him as a guest who could not leave without permission. Smile in his face while they have guards follow his every move. That sounded like Otto's way. It was one reason he had not warned them in truth. Less time they had to plan the better the position he would be in.
Despite it not being a trap Luke didn't feeling much like letting Criston escort him. He was just a glorified bodyguard that thought himself a Lord because of the collar the Queen had placed on him.
He watched the lanes and the markets, it had been a while since he'd been in such a busy place; the smell was only too familiar too. They reached the Street of Steel and the noise picked up even more with hammers and sellers selling their wares. Before he came here he had studied the maps of Kings Landing until he could draw them with his eyes shut. He looked to his right and noticed an alley that would do well for what he planned. A tannery to the right. He put a hand to his reins and shifted his weight and then he kicked hard and cut right under the nose of the nearest white cloak. The gelding jumped and found the slot. Shouts went up behind him.
"Prince Lucerys!" Ser Criston's voice carried. "Hold!"
Luke did not look back. The lane bent twice. He kept the turns short and his knees tight and let the horse do the restt. A cart blocked the mouth ahead, but he had prepared for that. There was space along the wall where a barrel sat half off the stones. He directed his horse through a narrow gap. The guards pushed after, but the street swallowed them. He cut left, then right, then straight through a yard and out by a well and up the rise toward the Red Keep. He slowed only when the gate came into view, and he let the horse blow hard and foam at the bit as if nothing had happened.
The gate guards crossed halberds. "Name your business."
"I am Prince Lucerys Velaryon," he said, and he showed the dragon brooch at his collar and the signet on his finger. A keeper on the wall was pointing to the sky; they had both seen Arrax land and so they knew this couldn't be faked. The men looked at each other and then at him again. The nearest stepped back and lifted his hand.
"Open," he said. "Let him through."
"Welcome back my prince," one of the men said.
Inside the yard he slid down and passed the reins to a boy without breaking stride. He did not expect to step into a court already set, but there they were. The King on a chair with two guards lifting him by the elbows. The Queen at his right. Aegon beside her with a cup that a page took and refilled. Aemond with his arms behind his back and his chin a notch high. Helaena with her eyes down at her fingers. Otto Hightower a pace in front of them with his hands folded and his gaze straight on them. More white cloaks behind them.
Luke stopped three paces short and bowed his head to the King. "Your Grace."
Viserys blinked twice as if the light pained him and then he smiled a thin smile that still looked like a real one. "Lucerys," he said with a rough voice. "You have grown."
"Your Grace is kind," Luke said. He lifted his head and kept his face still. He looked to Alicent. "Queen Alicent." He looked to Helaena and gave her a softer look. "Aunt." He looked past Aegon and Aemond without lingering and then he faced Otto.
"Prince Lucerys," Otto said. "The King is pleased to receive you. We would have welcomed you properly had we known of your arrival."
"I beg pardon for the haste," Luke said. "I did not wish to trouble the city with such a small event. I have come to pay my respects and to see my family."
Aegon smiled with his lips. "Will you be on your way now that you've seen us?" His voice was annoying as ever, the only change was it being a bit deeper.
"Aegon," Viserys chided his son in a quiet voice before descending into a cough, he was offered some water by a nearby servant. "You have not seen your nephew in near four years, you will speak to him as family or you will not speak at all.
Aegon near enough rolled his eyes. "Yes, father," he replied. Looking at Aegon annoyed Luke, despite his still rotten personality he had changed a lot. He had put on a bit of muscle and had grown quite attractive, but that was obvious for a Targaryen. From what Luke heard Aegon was quite the night and was one of the best swordsman in the city, he'd also won quite a few tourneys both in the melee and the jousting. The small folk loved him, though that was more to do with Otto and Alicent than any of his actions. Any good deed done by the crown had Aegons name plastered over it, it was clear to see what they were doing but they were able to get away with such things due to his mother and grandparents not being active.
Before Luke could say anything else Ser Criston and the rest of his guards came riding through the gates into the courtyard, he quickly dismounted his horse and approached the family not even bothering to bow. "I apologise your grace I was escorting Prince Lucerys but he escaped us and managed to get ahead."
Viserys gave Luke a frown, but there wasn't much heat to it. "Luke, you shouldn't go off like that it can be dangerous in the city, there are still those who haven't forgiven our family for what happened," He said chidingly.
"I apologise your grace, I was merely excited to see my family after so long," he said while forcing a smile onto his face.
Viserys smiled at this. "No harm done I suppose," though he did look at Ser Criston. "Perhaps next time I should send another in your place, if a child can out manoeuvre you." Ser Criston could do nothing but bow his head, but Luke knew that the man was seething.
Viserys looked back to Luke. "How long do you plan to stay?" he asked.
Luke looked to the king though he made sure he made eye contact with Otto and Alicent as he did. "I think I'll be staying for awhile, I've been away for the capital for a long time."
"Will your mother not miss you on Dragonstone," Alicent asked, as she did her best to hide her annoyance.
Luke smiled again. "I'm sure she will but I'm sure she'll understand, it has been awhile since I've seen this side of the family."
"I had thought that perhaps your place would be on driftmark, you are after all the heir," Otto chimed in.
"As much as I love the sea, I am a Targaryen, and Kings landing is my home," Luke replied.
"Don't look so disappointed to see me Lord hand," Luke said before forcing out a false laugh.
"Of course not Prince Jacaerys, the Red Keep is Home for all members of the royal family, yourself included," Otto said.
Viserys nodded and smiled. "Rightly so, Otto, see to it that Luke's room is readied and assign a few servants to him so he has everything he needs."
"That won't be necessary your grace, my party should be arriving on the morrow and with them will be my servants, I'm sure I can make do for one night," Luke said with a smile.
Viserys reached out and held looks hand. "Very well my grandson, please come to me if you need anything, and I hope you will have breakfast with us, and tell me everything you've done these past few years."
"I will be glad to grandfather," Luke said taking his hand back.
Otto and Alicent look on an impotent rage as one of their enemies came right to the gates and entered unmolested. Everything had been going perfectly, but now that Lucerys was here that perfectly crafted plan was in danger of failing. After everyone had gone inside Alicent pulled Otto aside, a look of panic on her face.
"Do you think he knows?" She asked, a slight quiver to her voice.
Otto shook his head. "No it's not possible," Otto replied.
"Why would he be here then!?" She whispered harshly. "It can't be a coincidence!"
Otto took a hold of his daughter's shoulders. "Calm yourself girl, he is only a boy. What could he possibly do? We have stopped him at every turn, he has no power or influence in Kings Landing."
Alicent took a moment to calm herself down, until she took a deep breath and finally nodded. "You're right, but it wouldn't do to chance things. We should deal with him before he becomes a problem."
Otto nodded a small smile crossing his face. "Don't worry he will be dealt with soon."
_____________________________________
"The Death of Dragons."
Nara's face went still, the playful light in her golden eyes vanishing like a candle snuffed by wind. She hadn't heard mention of that book since she was a child, having Jace mention it again it was like she was hit in the face with equal parts nostalgia and terror. She moved away slightly in the pool, the water rippling around her as she fixed him with a stern gaze. "How do you know of this book?" She asked.
Jace's eyes lit up. Most people he'd asked had never heard of it, their blank stares confirming its obscurity. That she knew was a good sign—better than good. He leaned forward, uncaring of her naked form. "The reason I know of the book is not important. What is important is whether you can get it for me."
She turned to him a slight frown on her face. "You ask for a lot."
Jace met her gaze. "Do you not also ask for a lot? I find that our requests may equal each other's out."
Nara's brow furrowed, a flicker of concern crossing her features. "That book is dangerous. Many who have read it are said to go mad, their minds unraveling like frayed silk."
Jace raised a skeptical brow, leaning back in the water. "Mad? Truly? What makes you say that?"
She took a breath, her voice dropping as if the walls might listen. "It is a legend told in Leng, one whispered to me as a child to warn against forbidden knowledge. It began with a man who lived hundreds of years ago. He worked in the mines of Valyria as a slave, born there without a name. This man hated his masters more than life itself. With every breath, he cursed their names. He wanted to kill them all, but the Valyrians were mighty with their blood magic and their dragons."
Jace listened intently, the story pulling him in despite himself.
"So he escaped," Nara continued, "and journeyed across the world, seeking a way to kill the dragons for good. This took him from Westeros to Ibben, to the Thousand Isles, to Sothoryos, and finally to the Shadow Lands."
"Dragons were said to have come from beyond the Shadow Lands," she went on, "so perhaps the magic to unmake them was there as well. He traveled to Asshai and went further still. He followed the green river all the way to Stygai, the City of Night."
She paused, her eyes distant, as if reliving the tale.
Jace leaned closer. "What happened next?"
"No one knows for sure," Nara replied softly. "Some say he met a god. Some say he encountered a race of people so ancient they walked the earth long before the first races of men. The most common belief is that he found the truth."
"The truth of what?" Jace pressed.
"The world? Life? Magic? Dragons? No one knows. But when he returned to Asshai, he was changed. He wore a mask from then on. It was rumored that in exchange for the truth, his face was taken from him. In the end, it is said he carved words into his very skin before flaying it off bit by bit. The skin he carved became the Death of Dragons, a tome with pages of dried flesh."
Jace winced at the image, a flicker of revulsion crossing his face, but it didn't deter him. "As much as I like stories, none of that will turn me away from what I desire."
Nara's eyes pleaded now, her voice urgent. "Please, reconsider. The book has driven men to madness, to acts of horror. It is not worth the risk—whatever truth you seek, it could destroy you."
Jace shook his head firmly. "I refuse. Like the nameless man, I am in search of the truth. And I know the book will give it to me."
She searched his face for a long moment, seeing the resolve there. Finally, she sighed, the fight leaving her. "Very well. I agree to your proposition. But you will have to wait until after my sister is saved."
Jace nodded. "Agreed. My company will be arriving soon, and we'll be ready to travel shortly after. Have our supplies prepared, as well as a guide."
She inclined her head. "It shall be done."
Jace stood then, water cascading off his body as he moved toward the edge of the pool. "I best get back to my friends and tell them the news."
Nara watched him go, her expression softening. "Thank you, Jace. My sister means the world to me, I can't let anything happen to her."
He paused at the steps, pulling on his clothes with a grin. "If she looks anything like you, it would be a tragedy to let anything happen to her." With that, he left, the massive doors closing behind him.
...
The next day, Jace and Cregan wandered the bustling market of Turrani, the air smelled amazing as it was filled with the scents of spiced meats roasting on skewers and exotic fruits piled high in woven baskets. Vendors hawked their wares in both Yi-Ti and Lengii tongues, while colorful birds squawked from cages overhead. Jace paused at a stall where a small monkey perched on a chain, its eyes darting about. He tossed a silver coin to the seller and coaxed the creature onto his arm with a piece of fruit, teaching it to balance on his shoulder and fetch a nut from his palm.
"Impressive," Cregan said dryly, arms crossed as he leaned against a post. "But let's talk about the job. Rescuing the God-Empresses sister from some underground horror city? Those 'Old Ones' sound like nothing we've faced. While I'm not one to believe in monsters in the dark I do believe you and what you've seen... this could turn into another Valyria."
Jace stiffened at the mention, his hand pausing mid-trick as the monkey chattered impatiently. He handed the nut over and nodded grimly. "Agreed. It's risky. But we're so close to the truth now, for years we have searched for the book, for years we have been far from home... if we do this Cregan... we can finally return... I can finally know the truth of what happened that day."
Cregan fell silent, his mind drifting. He thought of the endless roads, the battles, the losses. So many over the years, he had seen and experienced so much and all with his best friend. He would follow him anywhere, but in truth he worried. "What happens if you don't like what you find in that book Jace..."
Jace paused for a moment before sighing. "I don't know Cregan..." he breathed out.
Cregan looked at him sympathetically, he knew how much the day of his father's death haunted him, but he hoped that this path he was on didn't lead him to more pain.
Jace's voice pulled him back. "Hey look, Sara and Edryck are over there."
By the harbor, Sara and Edryck stood amid a cluster of sailors and merchants. Sara's dark curls caught the breeze, while Edryck's scarred face twisted in a scowl at something said. Jace and Cregan approached, weaving through crates of cargo.
"Old man," Jace greeted Edryck with a smirk. "You look like you slept in a barrel of fish, I thought you'd been bathed?"
Edryck snorted. "And you look like a peacock in those robes?"
They clasped arms firmly as they both smirked at each other.
Jace turned serious. "What've you found?"
Edryck glanced around, then nodded toward a secluded corner of the dock. They moved there, away from prying ears. Sara spoke first. "This place is strange Jace, since I've been here I've tried getting information out of people. But they clam up about the island, especially the untamed jungles to the north. They won't say a word about them, there is true fear in their eyes when they hear about them."
Edryck nodded gravely. "Not just the people that are strange. The Ministers seem hold the real power here. From what I've dug up, the God-Empress is more ceremonial, a figurehead. They pull the strings, and they've got people watching us already."
Jace sighed, rubbing his jaw. "That's gonna make things difficult."
"We should leave," Cregan added with a sigh.
Jace chuckled and slapped his friend's back. "Don't be so sour we have been through worse odds."
He turned to Sara. "Start expanding your spy network, try and get inside the palace. I need to know more about those ministers, and what they really do."
Sara nodded.
"Edryck," Jace continued, "Talk to anyone who's traveled through Leng. I want every detail of the jungles to the north, there has to be someone who has travelled that way and can give us a better idea of what is awaiting us in that jungle."
Edryck grimaced. "Difficult. Whatever's in that jungle, the people believe it. Though I doubt it's the Old Ones as people say, I suppose I could—"
*ROAAAAR*
A loud roar shattered the air, echoing from above like thunder interrupting Edryck. Jace smiled, looking up as the clouds parted. Vermax descended, his massive form breaking through, his wings spanning wide. He'd grown immensely over the years, now larger than Caraxes. Jace had always known that Dragons did better when they were free to roam the skies, the quick growth of Vermax just proved him right.
"It's been too long since I've seen him," Jace muttered.
He turned to the others. "Get to work, make sure to get back to the camp before nightfall it should be set up by then. Cregan and I will greet the company."
They nodded, splitting off in different directions—Sara melting into the crowd, Edryck toward the taverns, because of course he would go there. Soon after the dragon's arrival, sails appeared on the horizon. Three ships crested the waves, bearing the modified banner of House Targaryen: a three-headed dragon clad in armor. As they drew closer, Jace smiled.
His sellsword company had arrived.
The first to disembark was his company logistician and paymaster, Princess Aliandra Martell, a beautiful girl before who had now transformed into a beautiful woman, her long dark curls cascading down her back like a waterfall, a smirk on her face as she strode towards Jace and immediately grabbed him by his neck and placed a deep kiss on his lips. The moment their lips connected her tongue invaded his mouth, dancing with his own and intertwining. When she pulled back she had a light dusting of red on her cheeks and an even larger smile than before.
"You made me wait too long," she murmured against his lips, eyes sparkling with mock reproach.
Jace grinned against Aliandra's lips and pulled back just a little. "I'll make it up to you later."
She raised an eyebrow, that mischievouss glint in her eye never quite leaving, but stepped aside with a knowing smirk as boots started hitting the dock behind them. The crew was moving fast, line after line of hardened men pouring off the ships. There wasn't a lot of uniformity, but every piece was well-maintained, dragon motifs carved into their breastplates.
As Jace walked up the ramp, a few heads turned. Then more. Conversations quieted. The usual noise of men unloading cargo, clanking gear, and barking orders faded completely, and everyone there stood a little straighter.
One of the older soldiers stepped forward. He had a scar down the side of his jaw, grey in his beard, and the look of someone who had seen more battles than he could count. He thumped a fist against his chest.
"Captain."
The word was firm, respectful, and loud enough for others to hear. A few more repeated it behind him.
"Captain."
"Captain."
No one called him prince. No one ever did—not here, not among this sellswords. Jace had never cared what they called him whether it was Prince or Captain, or even Jace. The men called him Captain. Because that's what they chose.
They called him Captain because that's what he'd earned.
He'd bled with them. He'd taken hits when he didn't have to. He'd been first off the boat and last off the field, every time. He'd buried their dead, stayed up through the nights watching over wounded, and never once risked any of their lives needlessly for the sake of coin. There were men here who would take a sword for him without question, not because he was a Targaryen or even because he was the future King.
It was because they all loved him.
Jace stepped down into their ranks and clasped arms with the first man. "Good to see you, Loran," Jace said, voice low. "Still limping or did the healer finally fix you up?"
"Still limping, Captain," the old man grinned. "But I'll take it. Got both legs still, don't I?"
Others came forward, and Jace moved through them. Forearms clasped, nods exchanged, a few shoulder slaps. Every one of them stood a little straighter as he passed. These weren't green recruits, they were seasoned, tough, most of them older than him. Over half of them were people that had left Westeros with him, the young men of the families who he had taken into his care; he had offered them this opportunity and they had took it. Now every single one of them was a skilled and battle hardened warrior.
"Captain," someone muttered again.
They didn't need banners or trumpets or some royal announcer to tell them who led them. This wasn't a company that followed a title. They followed a man.
And for them, Jace Velaryon wasn't a prince of Dragonstone.
He was their captain.
"Good to see you all again, but we can save the reunion for later. Now we move fast, we've got work to do," he called out to all of them before going back to find Aliandra. He found her already halfway across the dock, barking orders at a flustered quartermaster who looked like he regretted waking up this morning. Jace caught up beside her, falling into step without saying much at first.
"Logistics?" he asked.
She didn't miss a step, flipping through a ledger as they walked. Her quill scratched once more before she glanced up.
"We're sitting at three hundred and twelve total. Two hundred and thirty are combat-ready. Forty-five are support—cooks, smiths, farriers, medics. The rest are scouts, signal runners, and handlers. Every unit's accounted for. We've got full gear. Shields are standard round with iron rims, nothing fancy but they won't split if they take a hit. Most men carry arming swords or short spears. Officers have better steel, mostly from Blackcrown or Myr, clean edges, tight grips. Archers are stocked—longbows for the experienced, shortbows for the younger ones. We've got maybe ten crossbows with spare strings, but not enough bolts to rely on them for more than opening volleys."
She turned another page, flicking her pen to mark something off. Jace watched her work, listening without interrupting.
"For the supply chain, we've packed for twenty-eight days, give or take. Salted pork, dried fish, oats, lentils, hardtack, honey bricks, dried fruit from the Stepstones. Enough to keep the men standing. We've got YiTish herbs—basil for fevers, vine-poppy for pain, purpleroot for wounds that don't close. Not a full healer's tent, but it'll cover the basics.
She closed the ledger halfway, glanced out toward the stacks of crates coming off the third ship.
"We've got six collapsible ballistae packed in crates with reinforced winches. They're already checked. Horses are a mixed lot—some of the ones from Qarth held up well, but a few are limping from the last battle. The farriers are already looking them overt."
Jace raised an eyebrow at that, but she was already onto the last point.
"The treasury's full. Last job brought in near six thousand in gold weight, plus trade coin and contracts. We've got enough to grease every palm from here to the capital. If we hit trouble, we can pay our way out."
She paused, tucked a loose curl behind her ear, and looked at him. "We're doing perfectly welll. All thanks to me," she said with a smug smile.
Jace gave a small nod. "You're a wonder, Allie."
She snapped the ledger shut with a wuick motion and stepped in a little closer, her voice going quiet enough that no one else could hear it. "And you've been avoiding me for long enough," she said, not accusing, but with just enough edge to make it stick. "It's not fair Sara gets all the attention, why don't you take me to the cabin and fuck my tight cunt."
Her eyes slid briefly toward Cregan, who stood a few paces off, giving orders to a pair of men struggling with a heavy crate. He didn't seem to be paying them any mind, but she made sure anyway.
Jace exhaled slowly through his nose, barely holding back the smile that pulled at the corner of his mouth. "You're not serious," he muttered.
Aliandra raised her brow, just a little.
"Work first then we can catch up on all the time we've missed our on," Jace said as he cupped her chin.
"Of course, I forgot how boring you are sometimes," she said dryly, already stepping back into her role. Her voice shifted as she turned and scanned the edge of the jungle. "Where are we placing the camp," she asked.
Jace nodded once. "Outside the palace gardens. Just far enough the walls aren't at our backs. I want to keep a good distance away just in case."
"You think it's a trap?" she asked.
"I think it's politics," he replied. "Which is worse."
Aliandra gave a short breath through her nose, something between a laugh and a grunt. "How close do you want the perimeter?"
"Keep it tight, but not boxed in. Enough space for a fallback if something goes wrong," he replied.
She was already nodding, ticking off mental notes. "I'll have the scouts start clearing brush. Set up outer watches. You want the pavilion up tonight?"
"Yeah. Keep it central. Give the men somewhere to gather if things aren't set up in time," he said with a nod.
"Alright." She turned to go, then paused, just for a second. "And the ships?"
"Double the guard. No gaps on rotation, no local dockhands past nightfall. I want eyes on the holds and the waterline until we leave this place, I have no doubt that the ministers here won't try and sabotage us in some way."
Aliandra's expression tightened. She understood. She'd seen enough deals and noble smiles to know what danger looked like when it was dressed in silk and good manners. "Understood," she said. "I'll handle it."
"So," she asked, flicking her eyes toward the palace gates in the distance. "What's the job this time?"
Before Jace could open his mouth, Cregan cut in from behind, stomping down the path with a bundle of rope slung over one shoulder.
"We're diving into some gods-damned ruin," he said with a grunt. "All where some dark gods are said to live. All to rescue a noble girl."
Aliandra raised a brow, lips quirking. "Of course we are."
She looked at Jace, head tilted, eyes amused. "You really can't help yourself, can you? Put a girl in the picture and you'll jump headfirst into a pit for her."
Jace blinked, taken aback. "That's not—no. That's not why we're here." He looked mildly offended, but only for a second. Then his expression shifted, and his voice dropped and became more serious. "They have it, Allie."
She stiffened slightly. "Wait. Are you saying—?"
He nodded. "The God-Empress knew about the book. She didn't even hesitate. Said if we get her sister out alive, the book's mine", he clarified.
Aliandra stared at him, face blank for a breath. Then it hit. Her eyes lit up all at once, "You're sure?" she asked.
"As sure as I've ever been," he said with a nod.
She didn't wait another second. She stepped in and threw her arms around him without any hesitation, hugging him tight, hands gripping the back of his neck. 0You actually did it," she said into his ear, voice thick with something between disbelief and relief. "I'm so happy for you." She leaned back just enough to kiss him.
Jace let it happen, one hand on her hip, the other bracing her lower back. When she finally pulled away, her breath touched his cheek. "We've been chasing this thing for such a long time," she whispered.
"Yeah," he murmured. "We're close now. Real close." For a moment, they stayed like that.
Then came the sound.
*Cough*
Cregan stood off to the side, his arms crossed, expression somewhere between impatient and vaguely annoyed. He cleared his throat again, louder this time.
Jace gave a short laugh, breaking contact, hands lifting as he stepped back. "Alright, alright," he said. "We've got a lot to do."
Aliandra grinned, brushing her fingers across the front of his collar before turning away. She didn't say anything else—didn't need to. The look she gave him as she walked off said plenty.
Cregan watched her go, then glanced at Jace.
"I swear, you're going to get stabbed one day because of your decisions regarding women."
Jace clapped him on the shoulder. "You know you're probably right."
...
By sundown, the Dragonknights had turned the outer palace grounds into a proper camp. Tents were already up. Sentries walked the perimeter, keeping a close eye on the treeline. Cookfires burned, sending smoke up between the tents. Smiths sharpened weapons under makeshift shelters, farriers worked through the horses and the healers laid out their supplies, packing salves and herbs into rows. The scouts had already started mapping the jungle trails, marking hazards with red cloth. Everyone knew what they were doing, they had done dozens of jobs together, this was just more of the same.
A sudden roar broke through the noise, loud enough to shake the leaves overhead. The camp froze for half a second, then turned their heads toward the sky.
Jace didn't need to look to know.
Vermax was here.
The dragon came down like thunder, massive wings stirring the air into a rush of hot wind as he circled and landed just outside the camp with a heavy thud that made the ground tremble. Emerald scales caught the last of the sunlight, and his tail swayed, knocking down a few saplings like they were weeds.
Jace was already moving, cutting across the camp. "Vermax!" he called, his heart lifting. He didn't care that half the camp was still watching. He reached his dragon and pressed a hand to the warm, familiar scales.
"Ñuha raqiros," he whispered. "Nyke emagon ao." (My friend. I've missed you.)
Vermax let out a low, rumbling sound, nudging Jace's shoulder hard enough to make him stumble a step.
"Kesiptan," Jace laughed. "Nyke syt being qrīdrughagon syt qrīdor. Ao did syt sȳrī Aliandra." (Sorry for being gone so long. You did well staying with Aliandra.)
A few handlers were already approaching with sheep on ropes, the animals bleating nervously.
Jace raised his voice while grinning. "Dōrī, nyke brōztan aōha biare ēngos. Kessa ao forgive nyke sir?" (Come, I brought your favorite. Will you forgive me?)
Vermax sniffed the sheep, then unleashed a short burst of flame, roasting them instantly before chomping them down, bones and all.
Jace laughed again, hand still resting on the dragon's side. Vermax rumbled, smoke curling from his nostrils as he settled down beside his rider. And just like that, the day's tension dropped from Jace's shoulders.
Nothing was quite like the bond between a dragon and a rider, the moment he touched Vermax scales he felt relief and a sense of assurance he didn't have without him. Suddenly the old ones didn't seem so terrifying when he had Vermax with him.
"I hope you're ready for this..."
(AN: So the Dragonknights are on Leng and Luke is in Kings Landing. Both of them are in very dangerous positions and need to be careful with how they approach things. Especially Luke who has to fight for his family, but right now he's alone and adrift in the vipers pit that is Kings Landing. Anyway hope you enjoyed.)
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