Chapter Text
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Act One:
Twisted Fates
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There once was a handsome prince who lived in a great castle overlooking a vast forest. He lived there with his large family, who filled the castle with life and light. His mother, who loved him very much. His father, who taught him how to be a man. His brothers and sisters, all fair and intelligent people. They even had a family dog to play with.
The prince was the happiest he could be and each moon cycle they hosted a grand masquerade for all the noblemen and ladies of Westeros to revel in their mutual wealth and prosperity. On a stormy night, one such party was interrupted by a crone seeking refuge, offering a blue rose in exchange for comfort. Offended by the paltry gift, the prince forced her out the way she came, glad to be rid of her.
But the storm never let up and it plundered the castle, beginning to take the light out one by one. First it was the youngest, the twins, who started coughing and didn't stop until their lungs did. They buried them next to the family dog, who had fallen asleep and never got back up. Then it was his sister, in a freak accident they told him, as it was the only way she could have pierced her own heart on the gate archway. His brother left them soon after, walking into the misty woods and never coming back. Certain they were cursed for their overindulgence, his mother set fire to the west wing, taking her and his father down in flames.
Alone, the prince considered following them. But fate sent him into the hands of a young enchantress who promised him his family back if he only did one thing. Willing to give up his own life, he agreed.
All she wanted was an eye. A pretty lilac eye, just like he had. With his own hands he took it for her, his hands stained in his own blood but it would be worth it to have his family home again. It would all be worth it.
He only realized his own mistake when he watched the beautiful enchantress morph into a ghoulish monstrosity, her clawed hands dripping red in the moonlight, his eye between her thin fingers.
The prince was never seen again, but if anyone wished to step foot into the castle, they would run screaming from sharp teeth in the night, from hollow eyes of the dead watching them in the shadows.
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The most beautiful things are those that madness prompts and reason writes…
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"...And her eyes glimmer with the blood orange sunset, sparkling with her desire to seek beyond the mask he put before her," Lucerys spoke the words to himself under the shady elm, legs outstretched on the grass, one ankle over the other. In the setting sun he could imagine he was the lovely protagonist of the most recent novel he picked up, his own cheeks rosy with newfound love and passion.
The moment did not last as he had to turn the page, where the love interest was left wanting for the man who hid himself from her once more. She was full of anguish for him, desiring so deeply in her core that she would commit anything for him. Lucerys wondered what that felt like. To love someone so passionately that it became a part of your very being. Unless a prince from a distant land got stranded in their modest farming village, he did not see a love novel inspiring romance happening in his lifetime.
Lucerys felt that was a fine point to end at, knowing even before it happened when the clock tower in the village square chimed three times, the roads busy with the same song and dance he had experienced for nineteen years. He followed his own routine like the rest of them, having finished one of the two books he brought, he would need a replacement for when he completed the romance later on that night.
Tucking the books under his arm and dusting his skirt off with the other, he entered town from the edge of the orchard, one of his pockets obviously lumpy with his sneakily acquired snacks. Ducking past carts of apples and carrots and maneuvering around running children had become second nature as he headed left to Mr. Beesbury's library.
He found the elderly man with his back to the entrance, peering at the spine of a book while dusting the shelf above. He jolted an inch at the shrill bell above the door. "Heavens! You gave me a fright, dear boy. You're the first person I've seen in over an hour, though that shouldn't surprise me."
Lucerys tried to hide his half smile, knowing very well he was a constant in the man's shop. "Sorry, sir."
"Come now, we've got a fresh new shipment this morning. Romance, a few mysteries, even this, er, fairytale it seems." He was holding the book in his hands and Lucerys offered to take it. It was the one Mr. Beesbury had been eyeing when he walked in.
"Tales of Old Valyria?" He glanced up at the man in wonder. He always fancied the stories that took him far beyond anything he knew and flipping through the pages he found unfamiliar songs and folklore. Just what he needed after a literary dry spell. "Where do you suppose that is? Across the sea?"
The old man looked troubled as he shuffled over to another shelf. "Oh…who is to say? Old mysteries come from beyond the sea, best to treat it like one of your stories you're fond of.” he gave the boy a resigned look. “As fantasy."
Lucerys was quite used to receiving no good answers from people. That was why he found solace in written words. He thanked Beesbury before taking his leave, the scent of fresh bread reminding him of his meager lunch, having chosen to focus on reading rather than eating.
As he was crossing the road, he spied Borros Baratheon’s daughters glowering at him from the boutique, their corseted chests puffed up even more as he walked by with his head held high. He could hear their nasally chittering from afar:
“Do you imagine he gets his clothing from the bin? He could at least try to dress appropriately if he wants to be a woman so badly!” Cassandra said with a nasty laugh.
"Who does he think he is? Like he's too good for us common folk!" Maris sneered.
"I hear he refused another proposal. Some Duke or another. He'd rather read." Ellyn snickered. "What a waste."
"If I were him, I would take the first lord and move, if it's such a bother to live here." Floris groused.
Lucerys had gotten exemplary at ignoring what others had to say about him or his family, choosing to bury his nose in a book rather than acknowledge it. He was considered an oddity in their little town. He supposed he was born into it. His parents leaving when he was very little left him to live with his grandfather, a kind man who hermitted away sculpting unexplained castles and landscapes. The man had once been more involved but when his wife passed he had secluded himself to his hobbies.
He knew he was following the man's footsteps as he walked the village with the new book already cracked open, letting his mind wander. If he had been paying attention, he would have heard the excitement as someone approached on horseback, but everything became easily pushed aside when he started reading.
He was forcefully brought out of his musing by a thickly muscled arm suddenly blocking his way. Lucerys sighed and instantly regretted that, then having to breathe in the man's overuse of cologne as an attempt to cover what two months of sailing smelled like. Lucerys coughed lightly into his fist. "You're in my way again, Captain."
Dalton Greyjoy smirked down at him but did not bother to remove his arm. "Am I? I seem to remember I was stretching and you walked right into me."
"Oh, how clumsy of me. Trust me, it won't happen again." Lucerys attempted to duck around the larger man but his wrist was caught, dislodging his hold of the books. He groaned when they hit the muddy, hoove trodden ground, his brown eyes sending Dalton unfriendly glances. "Great, I was borrowing those."
He was at least let go to retrieve his books, dusting them off. The damage wasn't bad but he wouldn’t let Dalton think it was okay, playing up his annoyance with him. "I'll have to pay for these now! Even worse, they might have to be rebound!"
He was stepping away when he bumped into someone else. He quickly started to apologize until he recognized Aegon’s rude laughter over his shoulder. "Give up on this one, Dalton, the only way you could satisfy him would be to turn into one of these trashy novels he likes."
The blond man made a point of snatching one from his hands, and it was the somewhat trashy love novel he was enjoying, and Lucerys was quick to jump for it. "Hey! It's! Art!"
Aegon laughed at him, holding the book above him but thankfully not reading from it. "You're just like your crazy grandfather. Would rather read your art than actually live. What a dull existence!"
Lucerys refrained from embarrassing himself further, knowing he would never get the book like that. He kneed Aegon right where it hurt and snagged the book out his hands as the man doubled over, groaning in pain. "My existence is plenty lively, thank you very much!"
Dalton was laughing as Lucerys darted through the growing mass of onlookers, bearing their judgmental stares and whispers as he headed home as fast as he could. Despite what he said in defiance, it was a lie. Lively was the exact opposite of the day in, day out life in the poor village he felt trapped in.
He longed to leave it all behind. To travel the world to see all the places he could only imagine as he read his books. Highgarden was the most scenic location he would go to first, or maybe to the shivering cold where the tallest wall of ice was constructed, or to the hot sands of Dorne. Anywhere but the never changing dull lands of middle Westeros. But even as he fantasized about leaving, there was no way he could leave his grandfather with no one but the stones around him, no way parting would ever be so easy.
He lived in an old stone home resting on the edge of the village, where the dirt road began to wind its way into the dark forest looming a couple miles to the east. Overflowing pots of flowers joined the creeping vines that decorated the eastern wall of the house, white clematis sprouting above the archway. He loved his home, had fond memories growing up with the delicate scent of flowers and crisp apples in the air as he fed off novel after novel. He loved the cracks in the stone pathway that grew wider each year, the strawberry patch he tended to devotedly throughout the summer, the elm tree he's napped under more times than he could count.
It never changed. He supposed that was the problem once he came down to it.
Inside his grandfather sang to himself as he whittled away at a drum tower, his fingers bandaged from where his knife would knick. Lucerys had heard the song his whole life, could sing it right back if he so wished, but he couldn't tell the meaning of the words. Each time he had asked, his grandfather became distant and disturbed by the thought of its origins. Lucerys learned to stop asking questions.
His grandfather was preoccupied and Lucerys eyes drifted to the bust of a woman. If he stared hard enough he would think it resembled him, but it was softer, more feminine. His grandfather did not know who she was, but often he would gaze upon the white statuette with sadness etched into the wrinkles around his eyes.
The man was peering around the table, eyebrows furrowed and Lucerys smiled softly, reaching for the handheld duster and handing it to him.
Viserys smiled at him, "thank you," he brushed the white powdery dust away, appraising his detail work. "What's the world like today?"
"Quiet. Only lovers today."
His grandfather hummed knowingly. "What splendor. Of course, my dear grandson would want nothing more than to shy from such a day."
Lucerys grinned a bit sardonically as he thumbed the outer wall of the miniature castle. There were little people stationed on the tiny cobbled walkways, details down to their smiling faces. "It's fine in easy digestible chapters, kepa."
That was another word from their past neither seemed to recall. But Lucerys knew to call him that. Knew enough that it felt right.
In the silence as Viserys continued his whittling, Lucerys asked, "Do you find me strange? The villagers…they don't seem to particularly like me."
This caused the man to stop his sculpting, adjusting his glasses to peer over the rim at Lucerys. "This is a small village, Lucerys. Small minds. They recognize you are not as small as them and they fear it." He let out a quiet breath, contemplating his words. "Small is safe, and inquisitive minds such as yourself long for bigger and better things."
"Unsafe things."
"Oh, to others it might be deemed unsafe. But for you, for people like us, who are naturally curious, it just seems like the next step." He takes a moment to stare at his grandson. "I know you are not happy living such a small, sad life. You're a dreamer, like me."
"Kepa…"
"It's fine, Lucerys. One day you will leave and I want you to know that I will be happy to know that one of us was able to."
"You could leave with me."
"No…I will die here." His eyes were tracing the details of the unnamed woman, lilac eyes distant. Above it was a painting of a blond haired woman holding a baby, blue roses crowing his soft wispy white hair. They had to have been the same woman, lovingly recreated, but the child was always left a mystery. "That is the only way for me."
Lucerys left him to his memories, the ones he had been able to hold onto. There was a life he had lived and forgotten, only traces of its existence brought by his own unknowing hands. Lucerys also had blank spots in his memory, not remembering anything before his seventh birthday. Couldn’t remember his parents faces or even their names, nothing about the life he had before moving to the village. He had learned to put it aside, to focus on what he did have, even if the thought did gnaw at him from time to time.
Lucerys was preparing dinner when his grandfather stood from his work and announced his trip to the market outside of town. Lucerys frowned at him. "It's much too late for that tonight. There is always morning."
"It will take a day regardless. I'll ride to High Heart and rest the night, I'll be home before supper tomorrow." He was already buttoning up his coat and searching for his floppy sun hat.
Just like Lucerys, there was no use in arguing with the man. They were both stubborn to the bone. "At least take a meal for the trip." He was already packing something away for his grandfather, placing it wrapped into the man's hands.
"You're a blessing, Cerys. Anything from the market for you?"
"Just a blue rose."
"Ah, always the blue rose." He smiled fondly as Lucerys followed him out to the makeshift stable. They only had one horse, Arrax, a pearly white Thoroughbred that was sometimes heralded as the prize of the village for his impressive speed. Once the cart was attached, Viserys was taking the reins. "I'll be back before you know it. Enjoy your new book while I'm gone."
"I will, kepa." As he watched them ride off towards the west, he said to himself, "be safe."
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There was plenty to do and Lucerys busied himself with the worst of it. Laundry. He would feel too guilty if he left it, even with permission to sit about and read all night. He had to trek back into town for use of the hot spring that bubbled up from the well, but it was still sunny out, fall not yet creeping upon them.
While he sat against the column, the well fed donkey doing most of the work for him, he was interrupted by a curious little voice.
"What are you doing there?" The girl asked, she was maybe six or seven, wearing common threads.
Lucerys smiled softly at her, inviting her over with a wave of his hand. "I'm reading a storybook. Would you like to join me?"
He was always happy to teach the children, even the elderly, how to read. Most of the villagers were illiterate, only recognizing a few words from the repetition of life. There was a good reason Lucerys was the one familiar face in Mr. Beesbury's library.
He knew what he did was frowned upon. There was a certain liberation to the written word. Far too much liberation could very well be the end to a small village such as this. Only the men necessary were taught to read, while the others were taught to listen well to orders. Lucerys refused to sit idly by in such a state of misery when he could be on a ship sailing the sea or climbing the rocky ascent of mountain ranges, or falling in love in Highgarden.
The girl sat next to him on the low stone wall, blue eyes following his finger as he slowly read to her. She would mimic him, looking at him for approval which he gave in small, encouraging smiles. "The blue…dragon flew…over the dark woods."
"That was amazing!" He was genuinely impressed, quickly turning the page to continue.
"What in the seven hells are you doing, boy?" Their reading bubble was burst by the outrage of the schoolmaster. His face reddening as he yelled across the well. "Teaching a girl to read?! As if we needed such nonsense!"
The girl is ushered off with hushed voices reprimanding her to stay away from Lucerys. He had to watch helplessly as his laundry was tossed to the ground into a steaming, soapy heap for everyone to see. He gathered his belongings and left the square, the entire front of his dress wet. His face was red from humiliation and he had to remind himself of his grandfather's words.
Never let them break you down. Never let them turn you small.
As he was walking home, someone fell into step with him and he groaned under his breath at the sight of Dalton's cocky smirk. "You know, they will never trust you if all you seek is to change them."
"And if that change is for the better? Am I supposed to sit and watch them waste their minds away?" Soapy water splashed around as Lucerys angrily hung clothes on the line. The faster he got it done the faster he could retreat inside, away from everyone.
Dalton stepped right into his strawberry plot and Lucerys added that to the list of broken things. It was piling up, that damn list.
"You should worry less about their feeble minds and worry about our children's future." Dalton stepped up to his back, his hands trailing the delicate slope of his hip.
Lucerys felt his spine straighten and he quickly danced around Dalton to finish hanging up the soaked clothes. "What the bloody hell are you talking about? I am not ready…for that."
"Maybe you haven't met the right man." Dalton was sure to follow him as Lucerys made his way to the gate, refusing to allow Lucerys any distance. "I can think of one in particular."
"It's a small village, Dalton. I've met them all. Including you."
"We met such a long time ago and I've changed, my treasure. Let us meet again under different circumstances."
Lucerys made a face of disgust as he slammed the gate between them. "You and I could never make each other happy. I'm sorry to inform you, but there isn't anything that could change that."
Dalton easily reopened the gate and closed the distance between them in two steps. "Oh, but I could make you happy, Lucerys. Very happy. I could take you far away from here, back to my home, where I'd decorate you in pearls and jewels." There was a dangerous edge of possession in his voice, in how he advanced on Lucerys, that made Lucerys nervous to be near him.
"I don't want pearls and jewels. I want to be left alone!"
Dalton's hand wrapped in the blue of Lucerys wet skirt, tugging the fabric. "What will you do once your grandfather dies and leaves you with nothing? Do you want to end up like that beldam, Alys? I could take you wherever you wished to go, Lucerys, you wouldn't need those books filling your head. You could have me filling you instead."
Lucerys had been steadily backing into his home, growing more agitated the longer Dalton let words come out of his mouth. If only he could hear how disgusting he sounded. As if being some sailor's wife would make all of Lucerys' dreams come true.
Firmly inside the doorway, hands gripping the handle, Lucerys snapped at the man. "I will never marry you, I can find happiness on my own!" He slammed the door, breathing in relief at the heavy sound of the lock clicking into place. He waited until he heard retreating footsteps before sagging against the door.
There was only a short moment of anxiety before the anger hit. Outraged and disgusted by the thought of being Captain Greyjoy's little treasure, Lucerys was nearly tearing at his clothes to change into something dry. He was fuming to himself, "how dare he try to make me feel small. Lucerys Greyjoy, hah, never in his wildest dreams."
He wanted adventure, wanted something grand and exciting, and maybe Dalton could provide that for him, but Lucerys could not see him being happy. Not with the way Dalton would just lock him in a new cage. Whoever he chose to marry - if he ever did - would not be someone who was content with being small, not when there was the whole world out there.
It was late when Lucerys was calm enough to go to bed. He stayed inside and read like he should have from the very beginning, but the longing romance just reminded him of his disaster conversation with Dalton so he picked up the folktales instead. Some passages were in another language entirely, but as his finger stroked the foreign letters, he felt something opening up in his chest. Something unlocking.
At night with the house gone all quiet, it was easy for Lucerys to dream about being elsewhere. It was how he fell asleep each night, hoping to dream himself somewhere new.
But when he opened his eyes to a new day, it was the same old cracks in the ceiling welcoming him, the same old smells and sounds he heard every day.
The same old nothing.
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Dirt stuck to his hands as he rooted around in the mess of the ruined strawberry plot. It wasn’t all bad but he would need to replant while they were still in season.
He was startled out of his thoughts by the sound of rushing hooves, looking up to see a frantic Arrax, alone and no longer attached to the cart. Instantly there was dread dampening his every thought. Damn the strawberries, he stepped right into them as he rushed to Arrax, taking the loose rein to steady his thrashing head.
"Shh, shh, Arrax, lykirī," he tried out the phrase he learned in the folktale book, his own breathing slowing with his horses. "Where is grandfather? Take me to him, Arrax!"
He paused only to attach the worn saddle and grab a wool cloak, not knowing where he would be led to. He was taken back the way Arrax arrived, east towards the forest.
He trusted Arrax to take him to his grandfather but he wondered why he would be anywhere near this dark place. The road to High Heart was west, he couldn’t think of a single reason why he would need to come this way.
They had always been told to stay away from the woods. People would enter and never return, leaving only their footsteps leading into the dark. There were always the few brave kids who would dare each other to enter at the hour of the wolf, when the night was at its darkest. But most of the time a concerned parent would come after them with a lantern to chase away the shadows.
The quiet crept in fast, the light of the sun draining as Lucerys delved into the thick of it. He gasped at the sight of white in the distance, his hair being brushed back by the gusts of chilly wind. But Arrax never stopped his course even as they were transported into what felt like another world.
Any visible tracks were covered by a layer of snow, but Lucerys knew they were on the right path when he saw a familiar box dusted with white. The lunch box he had packed the evening before. He spurred Arrax on, his throat tight with fear.
Lucerys couldn’t think of the possibility that something awful happened. This was not the excitement he craved when he dreamt of leaving the village behind.
The forest gave way to a path that seemed to appear out of nowhere. His breath caught in his chest, staring with wide eyes around him. This whole time there had been another world here, only a ride away. A wintry world secreted away with ghost stories to ward everyone off.
The cursed castle of Harrenhal was like nothing he could have imagined. He could barely take in the size of it. One side was cut off by the shore of the Gods Eye, the rest was a sprawling maze of dark stone. The five castles towered over the world, each connected by arching stone bridges. Two of the castles were blackened under blankets of white, the stone roofs caved in while deep cracks poured down the outer walls.
How they did not see this in the distance had to be some kind of magic. Lucerys could not believe this was constructed for humans and not for giants. Arrax led him through a hedge maze, unable not to notice how well kept it was. He passed right through the open gate and to the curved staircase leading to the massive doors to the largest castle.
If there were time to appreciate the landscape or the intricate swirling railings, he would have stayed outside in his amazement, wandering the niveous grounds. But he was rushing past the magnificently chiseled columns, sparing the faces carved into the double door only a fleeting look before pushing it open. He expected it to be locked, but there did not seem to be anyone else around.
The inside of the castle was empty. The candles unlit and strung up with cobwebs. The once opulent interior was faded, nothing was there to suggest life had been there in years, or that this massive castle had been more than just a crumbling ruin.
Chills ran up his spine as wind blew through the open doorway and he broke from his stupor to shut it, the slam echoing in the empty hall. If anything he expected that to alert someone of his existence, but as he stepped deeper he could not hear a soul, not even the wind outside.
Inside was a stretching hall supported by gilded columns, the checkered black and gold floor dusty and cracked under his feet. Every decoration or fixture was golden and adorned with swirling vine patterns. An intimidating sculpture of a dragon waited at the foot of a wide curving staircase, but Lucerys was fascinated by it rather than disturbed. He had never seen a place like this before in his life, a haunting beauty lingered in its abandoned halls that intrigued him.
"...the one!"
Lucerys spun around at the hushed voice. He didn't see a single thing out of the ordinary but could not trust a place that was known to be cursed. There were ghost stories about this castle for a reason.
"Who's there?" He turned and stopped when he caught something he hadn't noticed before. He squinted at the candlestick in a drawing area, in front of a cold fireplace, nothing out of the ordinary except that the wicks were lit.
He approached it slowly, noting how the shifting light from the multiple flames gave the candelabra a face within the curving leaf pattern. When he blinked it seemed to fade, becoming just a pricey looking candle holder.
There was an echoing cough coming from a higher level and Lucerys knew it had to be his grandfather. He snatched the candelabra in hand before running up the staircase. "Kepa!"
The further he got within the castle, the clearer it became that this was a strange and dangerous place. Lucerys had to hug the walls as there were no railings and half of the flooring gaped open to darkness below. But he knew to keep going.
He followed the coughs up and up, calling out until he found his grandfather behind criss-crossing iron bars. "Kepa!"
Viserys gripped the bars, staring at him like he was just a vision. There were tears in his clothes and dirt on his face. "Lucerys? H-how did you find me here?"
Lucerys took his hands and gasped. "You'll freeze to death here. We have to get you home."
But Viserys squeezed his hands, standing with a groan. "You must leave this place! Believe me when I tell you this castle is alive. You must leave before he finds you!"
"Alive? What are you talking about?" Lucerys was searching for anything to bash the lock with when he heard a low growl coming from behind him. He froze and shared a look of horror with his grandfather as the growling crept closer.
The few flickering candles in the dilapidated castle were not enough to lift the gloom in the hall. He could only hear as something came closer, growling and hissing low in its throat.
Through an archway he saw a shift in the darkness, a flash of pale white catching the light before disappearing.
"Who are you?" Lucerys called out, hearing the fear in his voice but he didn't waver. If the castle was really living then maybe it could speak as well.
The voice that responded was cold and angry, lashing back his own question. "Who are you?"
"I've come for my grandfather! There must be some kind of mistake!" He thought of the possibility that Arrax hadn't come back to him, that his grandfather could have been kept here for who knows how long before they thought to check the woods. "You can't just kidnap people!"
As his eyes adjusted he could begin to make out something large coming towards him, walking down an adjacent stairwell separated by vast nothingness. Whatever it was, it was incredibly tall with twin horns curving from its head, and a tail dragging behind it. That was enough for Lucerys to feel icy terror in his heart, backing into the cold iron bars containing his grandfather. This was a real monster, like the ones in his books, the same ones parents scared their children with.
And it was coming right towards him.
"Lucerys, you must leave," Viserys whispered harshly. But the monster was drawing even closer now and they were both transfixed by the spread of pale, leathery wings. He couldn’t make out its face, but it was wearing a dark shawl, cut in a way that allowed the wings at its back to move freely.
"Your grandfather is a thief," the beast snarled, his heavy footsteps scraping the stone flooring.
"No he isn’t! How dare you say that about him!"
The monster was closer now, shadowed behind the archway that separated them. It was even taller than it appeared and Lucerys could make out its long pale white hair that swept him back in a braid. "He stole a rose from my garden." His voice was reverberating against the stone, a menacing hiss Lucerys felt in his bones.
"So you put him in a cell?” His voice filled the hallway with his own temper to rival the monsters. “I asked for the rose. If you require punishment, punish me instead!"
"No," Viserys cried out. "He will keep you here forever, Lucerys. Eternity is the price for a simple rose to him."
Lucerys turned his disbelief towards the hissing winged beast. "You cannot be serious. That is hardly the answer!"
With a growl that shook the stone, the monster launched itself across the wide crack in the floor. It had no issue with that and Lucerys knew it was not probable he could fight his way out of this, not if he wanted to get his grandfather out with him.
"A simple rose cost me my life, I'm merely saving you the trouble." The monster was creeping closer, its towering frame fitting the large castle and he could see how ragged its shawl was, its fine white hair unkempt. Lucerys could make out black scales on its legs and wide clawed feet. The scraping noise came from its sharp talons brushing the floor. "If you still wish to take your grandfather's place, you must choose."
Lucerys would not live with himself if he left his grandfather in this frozen cell. There was no way he could leave and go on with his life like nothing ever happened. The decision was already made.
"Lucerys-"
He cut his grandfather off by half stepping closer to the beast. "Show me your face."
His demand made the monster recoil with a hiss but he would not let this creature imprison either of them without showing them its face. The candles were still lit even though they were close to stubs and he brought its light to the beast, gasping in shock.
Lucerys couldn’t say what he was expecting in his mind, a face with only teeth or bulging eyes maybe. The beast's face was alarming, striking terror in him at first, but just how the dragon sculpture fascinated him, he found himself unable to look away. With its wings and its horns, it did resemble the dragon downstairs but softened. He had the face of a man but he didn't exactly look human. Its teeth were pointed but not in an elongated maw that spit fire. But most disarming of it all was the large chunk of sapphire in the beast's left eye, the leathery skin grown around it in a gruesome scar.
The Beast's other eye, lilac colored and strangely human, was staring right back at him. "Choose."
"Lucerys," his grandfather spoke before he could. "You are the only family I have left. I am an old man, go home. Go, please."
He would go home, but not before his grandfather did. "I will…I will go home."
The Beast was appeased with that, already stepping back into the shadows. Lucerys told himself to be brave. "You won't even let me hug him goodbye? Are you really so heartless?"
The Beast made a low hiss in its throat but nevertheless reached for the lever high above Lucerys' head. "Fine. But I will only open this once. You will choose who remains when it shuts." The door to the cell sprang open and Lucerys was quick to rush in and hug his grandfather.
He was cold all over, trembling slightly. Lucerys had to fight back the stinging tears in his eyes. When Lucerys opened his eyes, he was facing the doorway. Be brave, he reminded himself.
"I never should have let you go alone."
He can see that his grandfather was trying to be brave as well, believing he would be the one to serve out this punishment. "Don't worry about me. Leave this place, this village. Live your life the way you've been dreaming to."
"It wouldn't be any life worth living."
The Beast was stalking back and forth outside the cell. Its deep growls a warning. Lucerys wanted to shove it inside a cell, see how it liked being imprisoned and taken from its family.
Viserys held his face and smiled softly at him, drawing him back. "It would be because you are alive. I love you, Lucerys. Live."
"I love you, too, kepa. I will be brave." He hugged Viserys as the man's expression morphed into confusion. "I will escape," he whispered into his ear before pushing him back into the hall, slamming the cell door shut as the man stumbled into the wall.
His eyes were wide with horror as he faced him on the other side of the bars. "Lucerys! What have you done!"
The Beast's lone eye stared at him impassively. "You would take his place, then?"
"He's my grandfather."
The Beast sneered at him, a surprisingly human motion, "he is a fool. You are a fool."
Lucerys gripped the bars as the monster took his grandfather by his collar, his sharp talons dangerously close to his neck. Viserys groaned in pain as he was dragged down the hall. "I will come back! I promise!"
"Don't hurt him!" But he couldn't do a thing trapped as he was. He strained his ears for any sudden scream, getting as close to the bars as he could, but after the echoing slam of the front doors there was only silence.
And so Lucerys found himself held prisoner by a beast straight out of a fantasy novel - and he was not having a good time with it.
꧁۵꧂
Hours passed with only the whistling of the wind and scurrying of rats to accompany him. He had removed his cloak to sit on, everywhere was cold but his ass was starting to get numb. He shivered and sat there like a miserable lump until the door to the cell opened with a screech.
He jumped up, scrambling back against the wall expecting to see the beast again. But unless it learned to move silently, he would have heard it.
"Don't be alarmed, trēsy. I'm only here to escort you to your room." As if he could be calm in this place. Lucerys waited for someone to enter but no one did.
There was no one there except for an eerie silhouette jauntily moving outside the doorway. Lucerys grabbed the nearest thing, a wooden stool, and raised it with intent to swing at any moment. "My room? Let me go home instead."
"I'm afraid I cannot do that. But if you follow me, I can show you where you'll be staying."
"I thought…" not that he was exactly complaining to get out of the cell, but he had no idea what traps the beast had laid out for him. This entire set up could be a trick for his tormentor to add to his already lifelong sentence.
"Oh that whole," and then the voice went deeper in a mock growl, "I will only open this once nonsense. He does get bored all alone here, you'll have to forgive him."
As Lucerys was turning the corner into the hall, he found the source of the voice. The gold candelabra swung from the lever, his flaming head and hands casting wild shadows.
Lucerys didn't hesitate to swing the wooden stool right into the thing, splinters of wood shooting out at impact.
It grunted as it bounced into the stone wall before meeting the ground. Its flames went out but one by one they sparked to life again. "Fearsome little thing, you are. I'm sure he’ll come to appreciate that about you. Eventually." The candle holder sat up as it spoke and Lucerys remembered his grandfather saying:
This castle is alive.
It was standing, it had an actual expression on its stem, and it was looking at him in amazement. "It really is you, trēsy. You've finally come."
Lucerys had no clue what it was spouting about and didn't care. "What the seven fucks are you?!"
"I'm Qēlītsos!" The candle declared proudly as if that meant anything to him.
"And that allows you to speak?" Lucerys heard the sound of metallic clanking and turned to see a pendulum clock struggling over the last stair, waddling over on stubby legs.
"Getting him to shut up is the real trick," it said, "and as you know, he should be in that cell when the master gets back."
Lucerys picked up a stone, ready to defend himself at any cost. If all he had to do was knock out a candle or two, he could be out of the castle in no time. He might be perceived as weak but he could do damage if he needed to.
As his back was turned, the candelabra whispered, "I know we have all lost our balls, but do you ever want to be a man again, instead of a whinging clock?"
The face of the clock shifted to irritation but it followed the candle holder as it said, "trust me, Amīstan."
Lucerys was led through the castle by a talking candle and clock, all the while wondering if he had hit his head and was hallucinating all of this. The sun was beginning to set, but looking out at the view made Lucerys dizzy. He had never been this high up before and this castle was apparently against any other guardrails but spiky.
The candelabra tried reassuring him in that voice that felt familiar in his heart but he couldn't place it. "I know this might be shocking to you, but soon you will become accustomed to it all. Our master is not good with first impressions."
The candle holder and the clock both spoke in a way that made Lucerys question their intentions. Or rather, the ones of their master. Why exactly would first impressions matter if he was to be kept as a prisoner? What other impression other than captive and captor would there be?
"Oh, no, this is completely normal.” Lucerys responded dryly. “I talk to clocks and candles all the time back home."
"Candelabra, trēsy. A specific difference."
"Excuse me. Candelabra. You still talk, which you haven't explained." And it called him the name his grandfather would. He hadn't met anyone alive or inanimate that spoke like that other than his grandfather. And he couldn’t shake how familiar his voice was, poking and probing at the back of his mind.
"Ah, all in good time. In the meantime, make yourself at home. The castle is your domain."
Amīstan lifted a chunky finger. "Just not the west wings." The candle, Qēlītsos, whacked the clock on the head. "Which doesn't exist actually."
Qēlītsos sighed.
"That's the part of the castle that is all burned up, right?" He remembered seeing it as he rode in. "Why would I ever go there?"
"Exactly, no reason at all to go there. Just remember that and we will all get along just fine." Qēlītsos said casually and Lucerys squinted at him.
From the bridge they crossed, Lucerys could make out one crumbling edge of the western parts of the castle, not exactly comforted by the dragon gargoyles screeching in eternal rage. Even from where he stood there was an ominous tugging in his gut.
Inside the eastmost tower was where his supposed new room was. This part of the castle was not as destroyed by time. It made him wonder how the outside was so well managed when the inside was barely a shadow of what it once was.
"And here we are, your new home." Qēlītsos announced as Amīstan pushed open a gilded door.
Lucerys was surprised to see the shift. The room was much nicer than he was expecting, dusty as all seven hells, but dying light poured in from the large windows enough that he could see it was livable.
"It's modest, but it should do."
Modest? Lucerys wanted to scoff but all that came out was a shaky gasp. The sitting area attached to the bedroom was almost the size of his house in the village and the ceilings were arched high above his head, decorated in gold trimming. It was probably the most beautiful room he had ever seen and did not understand how it could be considered modest.
Standing in the center of the bedroom, under the soft blue canopy that hung from the ceilings, he felt like some prince.
He knew he was a prisoner here and that it shouldn't matter if he got a better deal but it almost felt like too much. Something about it felt incredibly off, like he was stepping further into an unknown game while everyone else had been playing awhile.
"It's…gorgeous." He felt that was appropriate, seeing as it took his breath away. “But why am I here?”
"Of course it is," Qēlītsos responded matter-of-factly, sweeping his candle arm in a grand gesture. "And Master wanted you to have the finest room in the castle."
Yet as the candelabra jumped onto the bed, a cloud of dust filled the air. He coughed and Lucerys found it interesting that a previously inanimate object was breathing at all. Maybe it was the reality hitting him, but he actually giggled. "We weren't exactly expecting you…"
"Rytsas." A feminine voice whirled around his head, at first he thought it was a talking bird, but it was a red and black feather duster with a golden handle, swirling dust off surfaces with its tail. "Don't worry, I'll get this place shining in no time."
Lucerys was almost certain the duster had wings. It flew into the arms of the candelabra, who twirled it within its embrace. The silence was too heavy in the castle for whispers to be effective, so Lucerys was left confused on the following exchange:
"His name is Lucerys," the candelabra whispered to the duster, her gasp sharp as she turned to stare at him.
Uncomfortable with the attention, he turned away. He could still make out their hushed conversation.
"I worry this plan of yours is too risky, jorrāelagon." The duster told the candelabra.
"I would risk anything to kiss your lips again, Rāenagon."
"It's a good thing my feathers are black from how often you burn me."
Gods, he was listening to a feather duster and a candle holder flirt. Lucerys wasn’t sure what was holding him together at this point. He was certain most people would crack from the stress. He had to have been bleeding out in that cold cell and this was a dreamlike sequence as his brain encountered a final send off.
"Ahem." The pendulum clock interrupted, its numbered face in an upset frown.
"He is just jealous, jorrāelagon," Qēlītsos murmured to his feather dusting lover.
Slightly grossed out, Lucerys went over to the mirror and stared at his reflection. Something in his eyes made him look away. A wildness that hadn’t been there before. Anxiety bubbled to his chest. "Is everything alive here? Will the toilet start talking to me?"
"The privy is just the privy." The clock told him as if that should be obvious.
Qēlītsos and Rāenagon shared a small laugh at him and he flushed. "It was a genuine concern!"
A sharp, shrill note filled the air, Lucerys jumping back as the wardrobe busted open, spilling garments onto the floor. Oh gods, it began moving, drawers swaying to reveal its many pockets.
"Don't be alarmed, this is only Kyrstenka, your lovely wardrobe." Qēlītsos assured him.
"She's only partially active nowadays. No inspiration."
"Amīstan! You have no room to talk, you're barely even an alarm clock at this rate." Then the wardrobe yawned, her colorful drawers began closing. “We’ve all been reduced to useless things now.”
"No time to rest, my dear," Qēlītsos waved his fiery ends to gather her attention. "We have a perfect canvas for you!"
The face within the curtains of the wardrobe assessed Lucerys before it gasped, gilded gold arms reached out to grasp his shoulders. "Finally, a woman!"
"Uh," Lucerys winced as cold hands squished his cheeks. "I'm not a woman."
But the wardrobe went on as if he said nothing. "Such pretty eyes, a strong face, and look at that button nose! I will dress you just as a princess should!"
"I'm not a woman! Or a princess!" He wore the damn dress because he liked it, no one else told him to. He got mistaken sometimes but at nineteen and never changing his ways the villagers stopped asking questions.
His complaints went unnoticed and soon enough he was being covered in a pink and purple frilly monstrosity. He grimaced at the over exaggerated gown as the wardrobe finally went to sleep. He was fine with it staying that way. It unnerved him to know he wasn't truly alone even in this room.
"Oh, that…that is something," Qēlītsos said as he and Amīstan backed out of the room. "I'm sure the master will just die when he sees it."
"We will leave you to your privacy."
Lucerys wouldn't have believed they could move so fast if he hadn’t seen it. He made a note of that for when he inevitably escaped this bizarre castle.
He maneuvered out of the dress and went straight to the windows. They weren't barred or locked and once he swung them open he understood why. The drop below would mean death, no matter how he looked at it. So unless there was a talking flying carpet around here, he would have to use another way.
A castle this size, there had to be plenty of exits.
Right?