Lucera
Sneaking out was easy enough.
The septa was particularly tired that day, so she decided to once again cut their needlework short.
She bid Lucera a good day and made her swear to go straight to her chambers.
On her end, Luce curtsied and swore to comply.
It is not a lie.
The gods only got cross when one went against their word, and Luce had every intention to go to her chambers.
Leaving Ser Steffon outside to stand watch, she dove under the bed.
The satchel lay there untouched, and Luce was pleased to see none of the maids had taken her things for washing.
Mother would be cross if I ruined this dress too.
There were two things Rhaenyra asked of her whenever she would venture out exploring.
To stay within the safety of the Keep and to protect her clothing.
Luce quickly shrugged out of her silken cobalt blue petticoat and pulled on the torn salt-stained one she had borrowed from one of the kitchen scullions.
After fastening the ragged chapel about her shoulders, she felt around for the latch behind her bed.
One pull was all it took for the dragon tapestry on the left-hand wall to creak open.
She scurried into the darkness, taking care to light up the candle she had left at the very entrance.
The first thing that hit her was the cold.
A gust of wind whistled through the narrow corridor.
Luce sheltered her candle flame from the blast, steeling herself against the stench of mold and mildew threatening to drown her.
She quickly came upon a fork in her path.
Up ahead was a narrow passage that led straight to her mother’s apartments, she knew.
She had used that route often to sneak into bed with Mother whenever she had had a terrible dream.
Today, however, she needed to take a different path.
Turning left, she descended some jagged steps.
Dirt and cobwebs clung to the hem of her skirts, and the soft scurrying of rats rang out around her.
She was not deterred.
She followed the markers she had left on the walls during previous visits till she reached a steep wooden ladder.
Climbing up with a candle was a nightmare.
She was forced to take the holder handle into her mouth, grimacing every time hot wax trickled down on her lip.
When she had finally ascended, she was breathless and filthy, arms aching from the effort.
But the door she needed was just ahead, so the discomfort got lost in a wave of excitement.
Carefully leaning against the wall, she traced the stone with shaking fingers.
She found the latch but resisted pulling it and kept fishing until her fingers hit an indentation in the smooth rock.
The peephole popped open with one push, and a beam of light seeped through.
To her dismay, the corridor on the other side was deserted.
Has he gotten lost?
That did not seem right.
Aemond had assured her he knew how to get to the easternmost hallway that led to the kitchens.
Luce grumbled, straining to listen.
Nothing.
Her elation dampened.
Maybe he will not come.
Aemond had seemed reluctant to accept her invitation after all.
It was entirely possible he had simply decided he wanted to take no part in her mischief.
Dejected, she swallowed hard and decided to wait a while longer.
Save for the occasional servant passing by, nobody came.
She was about to turn on her heel to descend when the soft clatter of boots caught her attention.
A figure in an oversized cloak appeared off to the side.
Luce grimaced.
It seemed he did not know what disguise meant.
The cloak he wore was a potent emerald green, inlaid with fine silk threads.
She just about dashed her head against the walls.
He nervously looked around, his hooded face rife with caution.
Luce waited until his back was to the wall to quietly unlatch the hidden door.
The yelp he released when she yanked him into the dark could wake the dead.
“Shhh!” she hissed, quickly shutting the door.
“Seven hells!” he shook off her grip, the sound of his ragged breath like a war horn in the quiet of the passage.
“Do you mean to relieve me of my soul?
Do not sneak up on me like that!”
It was impossible to suppress the giggle building in her throat.
“Serves you right for not knowing how to dress properly.
I said, “Wear something inconspicuous.”
The faint candlelight cast shadows on his pale face.
Still, even in the dimness the flush spreading on his cheeks was obvious.
“I am.
I wore a cloak.”
“A bright green one.
You might as well have drawn the Hightower sigil on your forehead.”
“Well, pardon me for not knowing the proper attire for sneaking around,” he huffed.
“Where are we?”
Luce smirked.
“I thought you were supposed to be good at history.
We are in Maegor’s passages.”
His head snapped to the side, and he squinted at the darkness.
“I know history.
But how did you get here?”
The smirk on her face deepened.
“Well, unlike you, I know the proper way to sneak around.”
Candle in hand, she stepped into the darkness toward the ladder.
Aemond gingerly followed her down, always taking care to stay at least two steps behind her.
At first, he was quiet, observing the passages with curious wonder.
However, the deeper they went, and the darker the silence became around them, the more he started to complain.
“Where are we going?” he whined.
His foot must have caught something, because he stumbled, and he clumsily reached for her shoulder to steady himself.
Again, Luce could not help but laugh.
“You will see.”
“Gods, it is cold in here.
What if we get lost?”
“We will not.
I know where I am going.”
“Seven hells, Mother will murder me if she finds out I have left my lesson.”
“No, she will not.
I promise we will return before anyone even realizes you were gone.”
Luce made a sharp right turn, seizing him by the arm to bid him to follow.
The scent of mildew slowly dispersed to give way to the smell of mineral and river water.
A moment later, the faint sound of waves followed suit, and she quickly blew out the candle.
A pale light appeared at the end of the tunnel, and Lucera rushed forward, bursting into the cavern with glee.
When she felt the soft sand beneath her boots, she smiled and quickly set aside her candle.
To her left, she could see the vast expanse of the Blackwater rush through the cavern opening.
Aemond stumbled after, eyes wide and mouth parted.
“Where are we?” he gasped, gaze fixed on the stalagmites hanging above their heads.
“Eastern beach, or somewhere thereabout,” she commented and moved to take off her satchel.
Her supplies were exactly where she had left them, sitting untouched beneath a cloak in the corner of the cave.
“But there is not an Eastern beach.” He pulled off his hood to reveal a mess of tangled silver hair.
“Well, this is not a beach exactly.
It is far too small.
But it is just as good.”
Rifling through the leather satchel, she fished out her wooden shovel and nets.
Behind her, Aemond drew nearer, uncertainty in each step.
“What are you doing?”
Luce quickly fastened them to her belt and shot up.
“Gathering our supplies.
We cannot go searching for doubloons empty-handed.”
“What?”
Doubloons, mermaid coins.
It washes ashore sometimes with the tide.”
“Have you hit your head in those tunnels?
Mermaids are not real,” he proclaimed, nose upturned.
Lucera rolled her eyes.
“Now you sound like Jace.
The Blackwater has swallowed many a ship over the years.
Sometimes, remnants of those old cogs and galleys can wash ashore for astute explorers to find.”
“So we are searching for pirate treasure?”
“It is not just pirates.
It is trading cogs, ambassador galleys, and warships.
There are all kinds of things you can find buried in the sand.”
“Or nothing.”
Squeezing her shovel, she rushed past him.
“Fine then, if you are too afraid to be a proper explorer, I shall venture out alone.”
That seemed to set him into motion.
“I am not afraid!”
She whirled on her feet, extending the shovel to him.
“Then onward we go.
To adventure.”
The way he puckered his lips, eyes narrowed and brows furrowed, made Luce think he was trying to read her thoughts somehow.
Nevertheless, he seized the shovel from her hand.
With an elated smile, she rushed toward the opening.
As expected, a wave broke against the rocks, sending splashes of river water right into her face.
Aemond paused when he noticed the jagged reefs peeking above the surface.
Luce expected him to cower in fear, like Jace did.
To her delight, he only smiled in awe.
They trekked across the narrow path carved into the cliffside, wild tidal waves breaking below them.
Above them, the great red brick walls of the Red Keep’s towers stretched up into the heavens.
“We are on the far east,” Aemond yelled over the churning water.
“The part that overlooks the mouth of the Blackwater.”
“Yes,” Luce nodded.
The jagged stones dug into the sole of her leather boots, but she kept her feet steady.
One wrong move and she could slip and fall right below into the crashing tide.
“Your apartments are somewhere up there, I think.” She pointed toward the domed tower resembling an onion’s head.
“I did not think there was anything down here.”
“There is not.
At least nothing worth the effort of mapping.”
Their trek finally came to an end when they descended from the cobbled cliff path onto solid ground.
The beach could scarcely be called that.
It was a pocket of greyish sand that stretched outside a modest crag.
Driftwood and seaweed were strewn about everywhere, along with pieces of discarded chests, furniture, nets, and even clothing.
“So this is your beach of treasures.
Impressive,” Aemond grumbled, nose scrunched.
The wind had mussed his hair into an unruly mess of silver strings, and a sheen of sweat dotted his flush skin.
Just then, Luce noticed how pale his skin was.
White, almost translucent like ivory.
She decided it was pretty.
“Shut up, you have not even seen what is buried here yet.”
“I can tell you that without even digging.
Sand, rocks, driftwood, seashells, and more driftwood.
Did I mention driftwood?”
Luce puffed up her cheeks.
“Fine, you will not always find the best treasure here.
But that is the beauty of this place.
The treasure changes by the minute.”
Aemond frowned, but before she could explain, the beach did it for her.
A massive wave broke against the rock, swallowing up the land in a blanket of greyish foam.
Only a few feet of sand right at the entrance of the crag remained untouched.
The confusion on Aemond’s face morphed into quiet realization.
“Oh,” he breathed, purple eyes wide.
Luce grinned, moving to stand in front of him.
“That is right.
You only have a few moments to find your treasure before the waves come to take it and you away.”
He chewed on the inside of his cheeks.
“My clothes are going to get drenched, are they not?”
She shrugged.
“I did tell you to wear something sensible.”
He gazed at her through his pale lashes, reluctance in his purple slits.
Then, he heaved another sigh and straightened his back.
“Well, since I am already like to spend the rest of my life confined to my chambers as punishment, might as well do it.”
The smile that stretched his lips mirrored her own.
They did get drenched.
Quite a lot.
Granted, not every wave was a massive one.
The river was surprisingly calm today, granting them the chance to dig in the sand more thoroughly.
But when it decided to attack, it was merciless.
Sometimes they managed to run back to the crag in time to avoid the splash.
Other times, they would get soaked to their knees, the cold wetness lashing their skin like a whip.
For all his earlier grumbling, Aemond did not seem to mind.
He had been quite reserved in the beginning, halfheartedly kicking up sand with his shovel.
However, after he dug up what he judged to be fragments of a rusted shield, he grew more enthused till he was the one calling for her to dig faster, to run quicker.
At some point, they managed to find something curious.
Searching around the remnants of an old wooden chest, Aemond unearthed something small and round.
“Mermaid coin!” Lucera declared, snatching the thing from his hand.
The coin was much smaller than their gold dragons, bent out of shape and discolored.
Still, beneath the rippling greens and bronzes, it was possible to make out the shape of a slender woman with a fishtail.
“See, I told you it was real.”
“Whose coin is this?” Aemond asked, puzzled.
Luce turned over the piece in her fingers.
“Do not know.
One of the free cities, perhaps.”
“To my knowledge, none of them worship any sea gods.”
“Perhaps it is from an actual mermaid then.”
He lashed her with a look.
“Mermaids still are not real.”
Luce puckered her lips.
“You say that with such conviction, but in truth, you do not know.
None of us know what is at the bottom of the sea.
Do not the Ironborn believe in some kind of sea god that lives in a palace that is attended by mermaids?”
Aemond scowled, flinging a fistful of wet sand to the side.
The scent of river water was making his nose run.
“Ironborn are dim-witted savages, half a step away from pirates.
You should not place much stock into what they believe.”
She huffed.
“The people at Cracklaw Point say the same thing.
They say the sea is full of mermaids and Squishers that come ashore to steal bad children from their beds.”
“If mermaids are not real, then fish monsters certainly are not either.”
“If that is so, how do you explain the thing hiding behind that rock, looking at us?” This story is hosted at g.com.
His eyes widened, and he craned his head in the direction where she was pointing.
The cocksure smirk retreated from his face.
A black shape was rising above the jagged corral.
It was mere feet from where they sat half buried in wet sand, eyes staring right at them.
Though it only looked like it was staring.
At this distance all Luce could make out were tangles of black, wiry hair and a misshapen head the color of rotten wood.
“What is that?” Aemond asked, muscles seizing.
“I do not know.
I think it was not here when we arrived.”
Faster than she could blink, he was on his feet.
His hand reached behind his back, and a slender, steel blade emerged.
“What are you doing?
You brought a knife?”
“Of course, I did not know where you were taking me.”
Luce thought that sounded insulting, but she disregarded it.
The shape bobbed above the rock.
Both of them gasped.
“Wait, no, do not,” she said, seizing his forearm in a death grip, but he shook her off, taking tentative steps forward.
“Shhh.”
“What if it eats you?
Squishers love eating little boys!”
The determined crease between his brows did not falter.
“It is not a Squisher, I.”
His words died on his lips when a tidal wave rushed toward the shore.
The shape suddenly rose above the coral rock, leaping over the stone with the rising water.
The two of them screamed and dashed toward the crag, hearts in their throats.
“Get behind me, get behind me!” Aemond jumped to put himself in front of her, blade ready.
However, instead of a half-fish man charging him, all he got was seaweed.
“Seven hells!” he huffed, cheeks reddening.
Peering over his shoulder, Luce let out a hearty laugh.
Their fearsome fish foe turned out to be a rotten broom covered in seaweed.
The water that had broken against the sand washed it over to them in a whirlpool of foam and stone.
Aemond scoffed, moving to sheathe the blade he had been clutching in a death grip.
“No, careful!
Do not put your knife away; it might still strike!” she giggled, jostling him about.
The glare he gave her could curdle milk.
“Haha, very funny.” He tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ear.
“Marvelous, I have lost my treasure.”
Luce sank her teeth into her bottom lip and jangled her leather satchel.
“Good thing you have me to dig alongside you.”
He returned her grin and allowed her to lead him into the crag.
The arched entrance curved upward into a jagged dome littered with stalagmites.
The cavern was vast, large enough to fit ten of her and still leave room for more.
To the right a small pool glittered under a shaft of sunlight, streaming through the hole in the stone above.
When Luce dared to peek over the edge, she could have sworn she saw small fish swimming at the bottom.
“We can hide it here.” She rushed over to a tunnel beside the pool.
The thing was barely large enough to fit two dogs, but she managed to wiggle inside.
The satchel she and Jace had left previously was still there, and she placed their new bounty beside it, burying it in some sand for safekeeping.
“There.
Now the Squishers cannot get at it.” She shook out her skirts, but the cloth was too damp for the sand to slide off.
Even though she had changed into her customary ratty clothes, Luce knew her mother would not be happy to find her so disheveled and smelling like a canal.
“I cannot believe I almost fell for that.
Squishers,” Aemond grumbled.
He was just as ragged, his splendid green cloak a wet and shriveled mess.
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, you were much braver than Jace,” she replied.
“The first time we saw something dark in the waves, he sprinted back into the crag to cower in the tunnel.”
She expected Aemond to share in her laugh, but he remained silent.
His brows had furrowed into a frown, and he pressed his lips into a white line.
“Jace came here too?”
“Yes, a while back.
He had heard I had found a mermaid coin and wanted to get some himself.
All he managed to dig up was sand and crabs, so he got bored and left.”
Again, her jovial tone only seemed to sour him.
He crossed his arms on his chest.
“Why not bring him here then?
Why invite me?”
Lucera stared at him, stumped.
“Because I thought you might like it.”
Because you were the only one I had to invite.
The truth of those words pained her.
She had always steadfastly refused to admit how much not having companionship hurt her.
What use did she have for a gaggle of little girls, who only knew how to prattle about dresses and dolls?
She was much better off exploring on her own.
It would be nice to have someone.
A companion who not only shared her passions but also wanted to pursue them with equal enthusiasm.
Certainly, Jace could be entertaining whenever he deigned to play with her.
But he had no patience for her ploys and preferred swinging swords to digging through sand.
On the other hand, she had known nothing of Aemond save that he liked to read the same things she did.
But surely, that was enough to forge some sort of bond?
Fear blossomed in her chest as she held his gaze.
The purple swirled like gemstones.
“I did like it,” he proclaimed, his voice thin and uncertain.
He had shrunk into himself, his previous displeasure dispersing from his solemn face.
Her fear dampened.
“You did?”
“Yes.
Gods, I cannot think of a time I have done something silly without someone chiding me for it.”
The fear vanished completely, and she let out a laugh.
“We could do it again.
If you would like.”
More silence filled the cavern.
Once again, Aemond’s brows creased, lips pressing into a white line.
As if she had just offered to take him to the bowels of the seven hells.
She sucked in a breath, ignoring the tightness squeezing her chest.
Maybe he thinks I am wicked too.
“I would actually,” he finally said.
“After all, I do not see why only Jace and Aegon should be friends.”
All her reservations disappeared into a void the moment that word left his lips.
“We are friends?”
He blinked and gave her a sheepish shrug.
“I suppose so.”
She leapt without a thought, draping herself around his neck to squeeze with all her might.
Again he tensed, but after a moment, returned her embrace, his long hands encasing her like a cloak.
When they pulled apart, she kissed him, her smile so wide, her cheeks hurt from the effort.
He did not scoff or rebuke her.
The same wonder-struck expression she had seen on him that day in the antechamber appeared on his face, and a faint blush pinched his ivory cheeks.
Then, he returned her smile.
That one single moment filled her with enough elation to last her weeks.
Then, when her mother called her and Jace to supper one night to announce they were to have a sibling, her elation turned to joy.
She hugged and kissed them both, at last content with how her life was.
At last, hopeful for what the future had in store.
Things were, finally, perfect.
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