#Magical boy Lucerys

[darushi-chan]

Day 1 of Magical Boy Lucerys!!

Lucerys Velaryon lives a semi-normal life in modern day westeros, until one day he's awakened by a talking ball of light, apparently it's name its Arrax, and he wants him to fight "a legendary and ancient fight between the forcess of darkness an evil" in order to bring "balance to the world", or something. That's the short version of how he became his city hero, or magical boy, Pearl Shine, and by consequence and not to long before how he got his own nemesis, Sapphire Darkness, aka, his dear uncle Aemond. Aegon the younger and Viserys ll are Luke's guy in the chair, hahahahhaa. THIS IS NOT a madoka magica inspired fic, as suspicious as little Arrax is, he's not like Kyubey, at all. Please note that I just recently discovered the particle brushes of my drawing program and had a lot of fun actually being abble to add their "powers" without dying to draw them, lol. For more info ill put all the Lore on my Ao3 .w.

[earth4angels]

𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

modern!jacaerys x f!reader ─── smut, vanilla sex, jace is a mama's boy, a lil english major who's serious about his academics, basically a goodie two shoes. reader is an adventurous cheerleader babe. p in v, love making as secretly as possible with his family at home (i know theyre freaky). not fully edited.

summary: finals season has arrived and jacaerys is worried about his championship game and passing his classes. he just did not think you would change the way of how studying could even work.

jace nation tag list: @jacaerysgf @star611 @jules420 @intheheartoftheking @gracexthoughts @astrxq @reyndaisy @hxtd @smurfelle @nanaldy @valdezthg @littleblackcatinwonderland @nixtape-foryou @starrgurl46 @ethereal-athalia @stelleduarte @canyonmoon-2 @ambrosia-v-black @chuuritoz @melsunshine @frombloodandfire

“Get it together jace,” Jacaerys muttered, his hands running through his already messy hair. His fingers tapped rapidly through the page of his text book as if the answers were going to appear magically to him.

“Jace. Mom has been calling you to eat for the past fifteen minutes, you know she hates lateness,” Lucerys stood by the doorway of his brother’s room a slight smirk on his face as he looked at his brother who now slammed his face onto the book.

“Geesh… and I thought I was terrible, you’re even worse,” Luke joked. Jacaerys only moved his head to peek at his younger brother before he threw a pen at his head.

“Get out Luke, tell Mom I am no-“

“Tell me what exactly? If you think I am going to let you go to sleep without eating, you are absolutely wrong my dear,” Rhaenyra crossed her arms, a stern look on her face that had Jacaerys scrambling on his feet to meet her.

“Sorry mother,” he muttered, he scratched his neck before he twirled his fingers around, Rhaenyra sighed. She entered the room with soft steps, Jacaerys had now stopped his nervous ticks the moment he felt his mother’s touch.

“You got this my sweet boy. You’re the bravest, and smartest boy, I have raised you well. I know you will finish strongly, or am I wrong?”

Jacaerys widened his eyes, “No mother.”

Rhaenyra ran her fingers through the mess of hair, she smiled softly, “Now, wash up. Your brothers are waiting for you, Daemon bought that movie you and Luke begged him to buy.”

Luke exclaimed excitedly before he ran down the hall to the dining room, Rhaenyra and Jace heard him thanking their step-father over and over. They chuckled together.

As Jace scored the winning goal, the team swallowed him onto the ground, he groaned. He only wanted to see the one person that motivated him, that came to every single one of his games to cheer for him loudly that he felt no trophy could ever top the love he had for you.

The crowd cheered loudly, Jace managed to escape the sweaty bodies of his teammates before he was wrapped with a warmth so familiar, he knew it was you. He caught you in his arms the moment you ran up to him, your smile making him feel weak in the legs. He would bring the world and the stars for you if you’d ask.

Your pom-poms covered both of your faces as you leaned down to kiss him, since you had jumped on him, your legs wrapped around his waist - he held you up, his arms tightly holding your thighs, pressing you close. Your rosy lipstick now stained his already plump lips.

He groaned in satisfaction, you pulled away, giggling when he chased you for another kiss, “Congratulations Targaryen, you’re now going to the championship game.”

He smiled stupidly, from where he was looking at you, you looked like a bright star, your hair was held back by a headband that matched the color of his jersey. Your eyes covered in shiny glitter that he helped put on before the game because according to him, he wanted to try to put some on you. You were beautiful, and all his.

He leaned up to kiss you deeply, feeling your fingers dig deep into the slightly wet curls of his. The world vanished then, and Jacaerys wanted you more than ever, but it was not a place where he wanted to devour you.

You pulled away, he groaned again in annoyance, “Hold on tiger. You stink. And your mother and brothers are waiting to celebrate your win.”

He opened his eyes to see you with a teasing face, he narrowed his eyes in suspicion, you had a cunning smile. He did not want to question it yet so he placed you back onto the floor, without saying a word he took your hand interlacing it with his, both of you meeting his overly excited family that covered him in confetti. He thought life couldn’t get any more better than this.

His bed bounced as pushed his glasses upward, stopping them from slipping off his nose. He knew you were with him, but he paid you no mind as he mumbled the words from the slides to himself.

You leaned your head onto his shoulder, watching him study the same presentation over and over. You sat beside him, quietly biting onto your cinnamon roll that Rhaenyra begged you to take to Jace as well since she knew he was bound to skip dinner.

“Jace.”

“Hm,” he nodded his head slightly, letting you know he was listening to you. He truly was not though, he had a pen between his teeth biting on the top cap. You sighed.

“Jace.”

“Mm,” again he responded nonchalantly.

You rolled your eyes having enough. You took the laptop from him, shutting it close as you tossed it lightly onto his bedside table. You watched him widened his eyes, his arms reached to fight you but you beat him as you pushed him down onto the bed, sitting right on top.

His glasses moved upward, touching his forehead just a bit. You chuckled as he groaned in annoyance nonetheless his hands moved to hold your waist.

“Y/n… I need to study… you know I have to get good scores on the finals to keep my spot as top student.”

You smiled softly, your hands trailing down his chest to the toned body of his. His eyes fluttered, he enjoyed you touching him, he squirmed under you feeling his erection grow. He was shy to admit that even the slightest things you would do made him excited.

“You studied enough. You and I both know you’ll pass. Just how we also know, you will win the game,” Your fingers reached up to his face, pulling his glasses back to its original spot, you had always loved him with glasses. He huffed softly, his eyes moving upwards to try and avoid your strong gaze that had him digging his fingers softly into your waist.

“You’re only human jace, give yourself breaks hm?”

“I hate when you’re right,” he mumbled.

You laughed, tapping his nose lightly. His eyes moved back to your face, you leaned down to place a soft kiss on his nose you felt him breathe in deeply. He moved his head to reach your lips where he captured your warm lips with his.

You sighed into his mouth, enjoying the way his tongue licked your bottom lip. Your lips parted giving him access to taste you, he moaned when he got a taste of the sweetness from the bun you ate.

With his teeth, he pulled your bottom lip, sucking it lightly, you let him grinding your hip against his hardening erection hidden under the sweatpants you wanted to get rid of.

You rubbed harder, your panties now soaked from the need of wanting him. He let go of your lips as he let out a whimper. You sat on top still rubbing, twisting your hips in small circles to entice him. With half lidded eyes and small drool on the corner of his lips you wanted him so much more than before.

“Shh. I’ve got you,” you whispered, you ran your tongue down his neck finding a spot only you knew ruined him.

Right above his ear, in between his collarbone you placed a kiss and then you sucked hard, enjoying the small whimpers he let out. His hands working fast but clumsily pulling and tugging the straps of your sundress. He needed you, now.

He swallowed, “Please my love. Off,” he tugged the straps hard.

You heard a tear of fabric between your soft kisses that you left on his neck, you breathed in a laugh. You pushed him hard onto the bed, he grunted, you leaned back on your feet enjoying the flush on his cheeks, the curls surrounding him making him look angelic.

The sun was barely going down, and with the little sunlight still left, it touched Jace’s skin, his bright brown eyes covered by his slight fogged glasses from the amount of heavy breathing he was doing.

“Y/n… please…” he whispered, licking his lips watching you slowly tug down the straps, pulling down your bra as well. You watched him gasp slightly, taking in the view of the delicacy of your skin.

“Seven hells… how did I get so lucky?”

You hummed, getting rid of your dress completely, only sitting on top of him in your lace panties. He watched you hungrily, ready to bounce on you but held back, he wanted to take his time with you. Kiss all the little freckles on your body, find new spots that made you whisper his name as in a prayer.

He wanted to find all the new things that made your body quiver, flourish in his hands, his mouth. His mouth suddenly felt dry, he wanted to taste you so bad.

You smiled wickedly, your hand reached forward, grabbing his index cards he had also written to study. You looked through them fast before you tossed them somewhere on the floor.

Leaning forward, you grabbed his hands, placing them on your breasts, sighing blissfully when out of habit his thumbs flicked your now perked buds.

“Every right answer you give me, you’ll be allowed to touch me,” you whispered, smiling even wider when you felt him twitch underneath you.

Jacaerys was competitive, and he wanted to have you so badly but he also wanted to prove to you he was smart. He thought this was better than any study group he ever had, his fingers twitched against your breasts, wanting them deep in your cunt just to watch you bend in an angelic position, all because of him.

For once, he was greedy, he wanted to watch you have power over him. He licked his lips again, anticipating every moment that will occur. He thanked the old gods and new for gifting him you.

“First question,” you sat with his hands still on your breasts, enjoying the lust on your boyfriend’s eyes, the way sweat started to form on his forehead, the twitch of his eyebrow as he tried to read you, to the way his lips parted, his breaths coming out in sharp huffs.

“Name all the kings we had, from first king to now.”

Jacaerys struggled, he regretted now the position he was in, he couldn’t focus having you bare only in silk panties, your skin glowing, hair loose and curled at the tips. He just wanted to make love to you. He held his breath, his hands shaking, noticing, you smirked.

“Uh.. Um…” he cleared his throat, his eyebrows slightly scrunched together as he tried to think, “Aegon, the conqueror,” you hummed.

You let his hand go down the middle of your breast, to your stomach, hearing his breath hitched you stopped.

“I uh… Aenys,” he stuttered, finding it hard to stay still.

Again, you moved his hand to your navel, letting go of his hand as you waited for the rest of the answer to come out of your struggling boyfriend who remained obedient.

“Maegor, Jaehaerys, Viserys…” his voice straining.

You smiled, “Good job my love. See? The answers are flowing out of you.” You stood up then, he sat up quickly, his body in heat running with adrenaline from wanting you. Your fingers pulled the bands of your panties to slide them off your legs. Jacaerys’ mouth fell slack.

You tapped your finger to your chin as in thought, you moved as you spoke to sit on his lap, your legs spread on either side of his own. “Ah.. why is the reason that dragons are the symbol of the Targaryen family?”

Jacaerys tried, he truly did want to show off his intelligence but he couldn’t concentrate anymore. How could he concentrate when he had you on his lap, nude, your curls falling onto your shoulders giving you a glow so beautiful he was breathless.

“Seven hells y/n, I can’t do this,” he moved so quick you were startled that you ended up bumping your head onto his headboard. His eyes panicked, the lust from his eyes softening, “Baby, baby i am so sorry!”

You laughed loudly, taking his face into your hands where you pulled him to give him a kiss. He moaned into your mouth, his hands pulling your hands above your head, interlocking it with his.

“You didn’t answer the question Jacaerys,” you muttered into his lips. He moaned in annoyance over the fact you kept pulling away from him when all he wanted was to shower you with love.

“No offense, but you talk a lot my love, I just want you,” Jace fluttered his eyes, looking down on you his light brown eyes shadowed with a mischievous glint that had you swallow.

“Yeah?”

He nodded, his glasses sliding down more, you pushed them up again, his curls were a mess and damn… he looked ethereal. He was all yours, the pride in your chest swelled as as the love you felt for him did too.

You both smiled at each other before he kissed you again, his lips grazing your cheeks, eyebrows, forehead, everywhere he could touch, you giggled. Jacaerys felt like he could fly, the need to feel you, to connect with you felt heavy on his head.

He took a moment to observe the environment, he was quick, in a moment he heard everything, the laughter of his younger brothers, the sound of his mother talking over the phone. His cheeks blossoming crimson, the idea of having you while his family were so close bought an excitement to him.

He nibbled on your neck before whispering, “We have to keep quiet, mom…” he paused, feeling embarrassed, “anyone can hear us if we’re loud.”

You smirked, feeling the heat boil, “then try not to make me scream out,”

Jacaerys pulled away his eyebrows furrowed as if you said something offensive, “Oh? If i don’t, then I am not deserving of you my angel.”

Everything happened so fast, Jacaerys felt like he only blinked for a second, one second he was tasting you, leaving small marks on your neck then he was under you again, his chest bare, his boxers suddenly feeling hot.

You sat on top again, licking your lips admiring the work you made, a wet kiss on his chest turning red. Jacaerys felt sweat drip from his forehead, he needed to have you, now. But, he knew the reward would soon calm if he was patient - though he did not want to wait.

“Tell me my love, why are dragons the symbol of your family? If they are myth, why is it symbolic?”

Jacaerys rolled his eyes as his head tilted back, “Are you… Are you serious?” he whined, he thought he escaped this.

You tighten your lips together to hold back from laughing, “Oh i am serious babe. Now answer, or else.. I’ll go downstairs and play with Joff, i’ll ignore you all day.”

Jacaerys for the sake of his bulge feeling like it was ready to explode, tried.

He closed his eyes, scanning memories of the information he studied, “It was said that Targaryens are closer to the gods due to their faith in old traditions. Dragons are a symbol of power but also peace. Our family-“ suddenly he hissed, his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

Your teeth pulled the band of his boxers down, as your hand’s massaged the muscular thighs of his, you paused when you heard nothing but hard breathing, “I didn’t tell you to stop Jacaerys.”

He whimpered, “Dear gods…” he cleared his throat, “Our family symbol being dragons is to remind us of our history, to remind us why helping our people is also building a foundation for a better future, that is why our law firm is uh-“ he moaned when he felt your lips kissing up his toned chest.

“Our law firm is the most popular, and is one of the first establishments holding a strong position in justice.”

You stopped, Jacaerys was breathing hard as if he had ran through a marathon, “You really need to stop overthinking you won’t pass your exams, you are smart.”

Pressing a slight kiss on his lips, you sat up again, “Good job baby,” you moved his shaky hand to your body again, however Jacaerys had other plans, he sat up meeting you face to face.

“You are the world’s best person to ever grace us, I am so lucky to have you,” he whispered all the while his fingers grazed the apple of your cheeks, you couldn’t avoid the amount of love his eyes held you just needed him. The sexual tension between you was too strong to ignore.

“Jace..”

He pushed your hair back, his eyes mapping out the beauty marks on your face. You were so beautiful, he would never once stop repeating it, “I love you, with every ounce of my heart,” and that was when your heart flew out of your chest.

He laid you onto his bed, both of you shaking with need to have each other. His lips traced every bump, every inch of your body until he reached the valley of your breasts. The metal of his glasses making your skin crawl with goosebumps.

“All mine,” he whispered. His fingers traced the perky buds of your breasts before he took one in his mouth, moaning as if he was having the best dessert - in a way he was. Your body lifted from the bed, mind clouded with him only.

“Jace,” you pleaded now, needing him to stop his slow pace, you just needed him inside you. You felt him shudder at the way you said his name.

He pulled back, your eyes shaking in need but Jace was worse, his eyes filled with need, hidden behind those glasses of his he was overwhelmed with the love he had for you.

You felt his bulge nudge your core causing you to tilt your head back, moaning softly, you heard the gasping of your boyfriend who struggled what to do next. He never wanted to rush into things but he needed you, he wanted to explore more of you but he just needed to be inside, to carefully love you and show you.

You made the decision to guide him, you and Jacaerys were not always active, majority of your relationship was very innocent and you didn’t complain, simply being in the arms of your boyfriend was enough. Jacaerys only needed you close to feel the love you felt for him as he did you.

He never disrespected you, always showed you respect and love in small and big ways. His family adored you, with his mom already calling you her daughter she never had. Daemon adored your stubbornness, mentioning how you reminded him of his younger days. To Jace, that was enough.

So when you guided him inside of you, feeling the tip of his erection inside you, both of you gasped, holding each other in desperate need of love. He shook in your arms as your legs wrapped around his waist, he didn’t move feeling too overwhelmed from your heat.

“t’s okay,” you whispered, your heart full, and as you locked eyes with the one man who you swore your life to, he pushed all the way in, the tears seeping from your eyes.

He held you in his arms tightly, whimpering as you tugged the wet curls of his, pulling out and pushing in with such care that had you breathing out choked sobs from the love you felt. He only prepped small kisses, whispering the love he held for you.

“I love you, I love you,” he whispered into your mouth, his hands wiping the tears from your cheeks, feeling his own pool. Your fingers marked half moons onto his shoulde blades, marking beautiful trails of your love as he pushed into you harder, faster.

You removed his glasses then, finally coming to face his eyes that were scrunched together in concentration and if it was another occasion you would’ve laughed but you kissed his face holding onto him as your noses bumped into each other clumsily.

“You feel so g-good,” he muttered, his hand holding onto your right hand, you said nothing as you took him in, feeling the little bubble in your tummy ready to release.

“J-Jace,” you stuttered, squealing when he finally hit that one spot inside you, “OH! Don’t stop… donnn-t stop.”

He knew you were close, you held onto his hair tighter, your eyes rolled onto the back of your head as you bent your neck all the way back displaying your entire neck to him. He pushed harder, making it a mission to have you see stars, he watched you carefully, hearing how you muttered his name like a prayer.

He was so close, but he held back, his cheeks were warm, as he felt the need to come inside you with just watching you wither in his embrace. All that was heard was the bed squeaking, the headboard of his bed slamming against the wall, and as much as he wanted to keep it quiet, he couldn’t. He just needed you.

“My pretty angel, all mine,” he whispered again, he had let go of your hand reaching down on your sensitive bud where he rubbed in circles, you moaned loudly and he reacted so fast he covered your mouth with his as he swallowed your slight screams.

He felt the stutter of your hips and the shocks that your body was going through, and suddenly he felt the tightness of your warmth wrapping him hard that his chest felt on fire.

He closed his eyes allowing the pleasure to sweep him out of the world, with one last push he allowed to come inside you hearing you sigh in bliss, your body still shaking, the tears dry on your cheeks.

You held Jace against you, brushing his hair back, hearing him try to level his breathing back to normal. You did not want him to pull out of you but you needed to pee.

He kissed your breasts before he slowly pulled out, both of you shuddering, he then kissed you deeply. He said nothing, but neither did you, both of you basking in the love.

You watched as he pulled you into his arms, carrying you into his bathroom, he looked beautiful. You sat in the toilet as he prepared a bath, and took the moment when he went to get you clothes to pee.

When he came back he had a hoodie of his and a pair of boxers for you to wear, you childishly made grabby hands, he chuckled before he pulled you to the bath tub with him.

The silence was comfortable, until a thought hit you, “Jace?”

You leaned your head back to look at him, he was smiling with his eyes closed, “Yeah?”

“I think.. I saw Luke’s feet at some point by the door,”

Jace snapped his eyes open in a panic, one look at you, who looked at him with your own set of eyes that held panic, he laughed loudly, you joined him.

Lucerys did in fact stopped by his brother’s door, he only wanted to ask if you wanted to play mario’s kart, but that flew out the window when he heard his brother’s moans. So he sat in the family room with a traumatized look on his face thinking he wished dragons were real so he can ask to get eaten instead.

[zaldritzosrose]

Disease (Aemond x Witch!Reader)

Summary: Harrenhal was a prize and with Daemon leaving it abandoned, Aemond wasn't prepared to let it be lost to them again. Rage simmered within, the inaction of those around him had put his nerves onto a knife's edge. Nothing would stop him from achieving his goal. Except you, of course. A witch like your sister, Alys, but far more formidable if you tried.

Song - Disease by Lady Gaga

CW: MINORS DNI, she/her pronouns, mentions of witchcraft, mentions of drugged wine and hallucinations, mentions of violence, mentions of past deaths (Lucerys and Alys), mentions of manipulation, mentions of pregnancy, innuendo, profanity, masturbation (fem), voyeurism (Aemond watches), oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v sex, tiddy sucking, mildly submissive Aemond.

Words: 7152

It's a long one..but it was a brain worm that just wouldn't quit!

There are no more tears to cry. I heard you beggin' for life…

Harrenhal was a prize. Aemond was furious to find out that Daemon had taken it from their grasp despite the plans he had tried to lay into place.

Yes, he likely shouldn’t have schemed behind his brother’s back. But he was doing it in the interests of the Crown and their family. Even if it meant undermining the King in the process.

Rook’s Rest had been a key move. But where there was triumph, there was failure.

A win in Rook’s Rest, followed by three more dragons to Rhaenyra’s cause. Meleys and Rhaenys downed, but Aegon and Sunfyre were injured. It felt as though the war was becoming a lost cause. Aemond was floundering, though he would be damned if he let anyone see it.

The mask of cold, sharp indifference was set in place. But inside he felt rotted. Rage was a disease, and it ate him alive.

Long gone was the boy who cried over no dragon, who ran to his mother when he hurt.

In his place was a man filled with little more than hate and violence.

Runnin' out of medicine. You're worse than you've ever been…

His head pounded. Aemond barely heard the words of the council, his mind swirling. He wanted nothing more than to be done with the tiresome meetings.

“There will be no argument,” he snapped suddenly, cutting through the arguing voices of the council members.

“Harrenhal shall not be lost to us again. I will fly out as soon as possible, Cole and our men shall follow.”

There was silence in the room, yet the pain in his head felt like the entire room rang like a bell. He wanted to act, not sit and prattle about plans and alliances.

“Your Grace…” Lord Wylde had barely opened his mouth to speak before he stopped silent.

If looks could have killed, Lord Wylde would have perished immediately. Aemond’s singular gaze burned into him, and the Prince was sure he saw the Lord visibly shrink beneath it.

Aemond said nothing more, but it was clear the matter was done. The air was tense as Aemond left, not a single look back as he silently dismissed the council.

The castle was eerily silent was Daemon and his dragon departed, but eerie was what you enjoyed. Harrenhal was your haven. Your sanctuary to live unbothered and without fear.

Even when Prince Daemon had arrived, he left you well alone.

The Witch of Harrenhal.

That’s what they called you, though no one knew the extent of the things you were capable of.

You were not the first. Your sister, elder by two years but as much bastard blood as you were. She had tried to play with Daemon’s mind, and it had cost her life. And while you loved her dearly, you couldn’t feel much sympathy.

Alys had been warned. Targaryens were unpredictable, untameable. And yet she tried to.

The magic that ran in yours and Alys’ veins was far different from what ran in the fiery veins of the Targaryens. All Old Gods, but nothing alike.

Now your home was empty. The army Daemon had roused gone. Ser Simon Strong hiding away in his rooms. The constant screeches of the blood red dragon no longer grated on your ears.

You had almost returned to a life of darkened peace.

And then word of another silver haired visitor came. Younger, fiercer it was rumoured than his uncle.

The Prince Regent himself was set for Harrenhal.

(Ah-ah) Screamin' for me, baby. (Ah-ah) Like you're gonna die…

Vhagar was an unwelcome sight in the Riverlands for most. For others who openly supported Aegon as King, she was the opposite.

For you, she was a warning to prepare.

Alys had taken it upon herself to try and unpick the mind of Prince Daemon, hoping insanity would distract him from whatever he aimed to do. You were unsure of what exactly your sister had intended with such a plan, but it failed when Daemon’s knife found her heart.

You, on the other hand, knew a Targaryen in Harrenhal was a bid for power. Power you could leech upon yourself.

A bastard. A witch. All things levied as insults against you that you chose to revel in. Alys had taught you everything and you had taken to it like a duck to water. The morbid history of Harrenhal only fuelled you.

So, you kept your eyes to the sky for the sight of the great she-dragon. Waiting patiently for the Prince Regent to land at your doorstep.

But a vengeful and rage filled prince, with the largest living dragon, was a dangerous omen on the Riverlands.

It was as though seeing what Daemon had almost taken from them, Rhaenyra’s banners on different castles as he neared Harrenhal, had sent him into a maelstrom of violence.

Word of the destruction quickly reached Ser Simon, though Harrenhal’s lord was not prepared to attempt a stand against yet another Targaryen. Daemon’s presence had taken it’s toll on him, the biting wit you were used to hearing long extinguished when Aemond finally arrived.

Harrenhal grew larger on the horizon. Vhagar leaving nothing but ash and blood in her wake, feeding off the fury that simmered in her rider.

Aemond had heard the whispers about Harrenhal. The cursed stones, the ghosts that wandered the hallway, the sisters that haunted the old ruin.

But he had also never really believed in magic.

So, he let the stories linger only in the back of his mind. Harrenhal was a prize to win, haunted or not.

The dinner hall was prepared for Prince Aemond’s arrival, the large silhouette of Vhagar was visible from a fair enough distance to give the servants time to prepare.

Ser Simon had forced himself from his rooms, unwillingly knowing that his lack of presence would only anger the young Prince more.

You sat watching from your chambers, sat on the sill of the window. The flash of silver hair in the courtyard had a smile tugging at your lips. Maybe this wouldn’t be quite as much a chore as you thought it would be.

The Prince Regent was a treat for the eyes.

You watched as he disappeared into the castle. It would simply be a waiting game. You were going to take your time, reveal yourself little by little. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t toy with him just a little.

Harrenhal was known to be haunted. What were a few extra ghosts in the grand scheme of things?

(Ah-ah) Poison on the inside. I could be your antidote tonight…

The meal with Ser Simon had been nothing short of uncomfortable for Aemond and everyone involved. He wasn’t one for small talk and it seemed the previous visit from Prince Daemon had soured any thoughts the Strong lord had about Targaryens.

The only balm, the only light in such gloomy halls, had been you. Aemond hadn’t been able to take his eye off you the moment you entered. Posing simply as a servant, a tray with a jug of wine placed in the centre.

Hair falling in waves down your back, the dress you wore nothing like he’d ever seen a servant wear. Something about you just draw him in.

So, when you appeared at his elbow, soft voice offering him wine, he could barely stop himself before he had agreed. The wine slipping down his throat easier than it ever did, and the cups that followed all blurred into one.

The walk back to his chambers, however, was an impossible memory.

You sat in your chamber, on the same floor as the guest rooms the prince currently resided in. But you knew he wouldn’t be within for long…

Not with the hallucinogenic herbs slipped into his wine. His gaze on you had been just enough of a distraction.

All you had to do now, was wait.

(Ah-ah) Screamin' for me, baby. (Ah-ah) Like you're gonna die…

(Ah-ah) Poison on the inside. I could be your antidote tonight…

Sleep evaded him. No, not evaded. It tortured Aemond to try. Slumber hadn’t been an easy task for him in a long time. First the pain of losing his eye and then the death of Lucerys had afforded him hours and hours of interrupted and painful sleep.

But this was different. He felt nauseous, head spinning and his body felt like it was constantly falling.

And yet, his feet took him from his bed. He wasn’t sure where he was going, he simply needed to walk.

All the halls looked the same. Dark save for a few sporadic candles. The same grey stone walls seemed to never end. But his body seemed to know where it wished to go.

Aemond didn’t realise he was outside until he felt the night’s air on his face. The soft sounds of the water ahead drawing him closer and closer.

And then he saw you. Moonlight bathing your skin with a glow, the water lapping at your feet. Your gown flowing in rhythm with the waves.

The prince could have sworn he could hear you calling his name. Like a siren.

He was at the edge of the water before he knew it. Eye trained solely on you. How your gown had slipped from your shoulders, dangerously close to exposing more and more of your naked flesh.

Were you not cold? He thought, the water splashing up the toes of his boots. Yet he couldn’t move any further. All he could do was watch you.

I could play the doctor, I can cure your disease. If you were a sinner, I could make you believe…

Aemond’s thoughts were muddled, consciousness swimming in and out of lucidity.

Then he saw it, your hand sliding down from your neck and disappearing beneath the water. The ripples that formed around it told him what you were doing.

Sweet moans floated towards him and Aemond could feel his own heart beating to the same rhythm as your hand.

He knew it couldn’t be real. Aemond had heard the stories of Harrenhal, how it had driven so many to madness. How ghosts roamed the halls and witches hid in the shadows.

But logic was not with him anymore.

His chest heaved at the sight of you, the blood in his veins rushing down to fuel his arousal. Who were you? What were you?

Just as your moans reached a crescendo, his name falling like sin from your lips, Aemond’s hand moving to palm himself…

Lay you down like one, two, three. Eyes roll back in ecstasy…

He was back in his room. Sweat coating his skin and rolling down his spine. He was in his bed, cotton shirt stuck to his skin. His head still a little fuzzy, but he felt different.

Aemond could remember pieces of what he’d seen. Was it a dream? No, he couldn’t dream about someone he barely knew, surely?

Yet he could still see you so clearly. Soft skin, long hair. Eyes closes in pleasure as the water overtook your arched body.

His body still thrummed with the remnants of the desire he’d felt.

He lay back down, trying to let sleep take him again. But when he did, he only saw your face.

And it was a face he found himself longing to see again.

I can smell your sickness, I can cure ya (Cure). Cure your disease…

You could feel Aemond’s presence behind you as you worked. There was something about him that was immediately recognisable.

He had woken less rested than he hoped, his headache returned. The socket of his eye felt like it burned. He had asked a passing servant if there was a healer in the castle, and they had sent him to you.

“My prince, is there something you need?”

The moment you met his gaze, Aemond felt a ringing in his head. Flashes of the night before in his mind. But then you spoke again, smiling a little as he shook his head before looking at you again.

“This place is a not built for a restful sleep, I’m afraid. Especially for those not used to it.”

Your voice was so soft, like a balm to his whirring mind.

Before he knew it, you were stood in front of him. A good head and shoulder shorter than he was, head tilted in curiosity.

“That is an understatement, my lady.” Aemond answered, his voice coming out hoarser than he cared for.

He didn’t expect the laugh you responded with.

“I am no lady, my prince. Just a bastard healer.”

Aemond hummed in response, wincing as the pain in his eye burned again. It was intense enough that he didn’t notice your hand on his jaw, turning his head to look at his damaged eye.

He should have pushed you away. But your touch sent sparks through his skin, and he found himself unable to move.

“Can…do you have something to help?”

You smiled, stroking his cheek once before letting him go. Aemond hated asking for help. The Maester in the Keep would simply bring him medicine for his pain without being asked, knowing the prince well enough to know when he’d need it.

The absence of your touch made him feel empty. His skin now cold where your hand had been.

“What does your Maester usually give you?”

You had returned to stand behind the table and for the first time Aemond took the time to look around the room he now stood in. It was everything he would imagine a healer’s quarters would look like. Though it didn’t look like you resided here.

Herbs littered the table in front of you. Books laid wide open, dog-eared as if they had been read hundreds of times. Bowls, bottles, boxes filled to the brim with concoctions and ingredients. Plants hung from every possible surface. A fire smouldered in the background.

“Milk of the poppy, but I do not like how it fogs my mind.” Aemond huffed back, regretting how annoyed he sounded.

You smiled, glancing through the hair that hung before your face to look at him.

“Take a seat, my prince, I can have breakfast brought in here while you wait?”

Aemond nodded, taking a seat by the window. You disappeared for a moment, coming back with a tray of tea and a promise that a servant would bring him some food.

He didn’t know why he felt comfortable, or as comfortable as he allowed himself to ever feel, around you. You had both an air of mystery and familiarity that he truly didn’t understand.

The servant brought the food in silently, setting the tray down in front of Aemond with barely a glance towards the stern prince.

But Aemond only watched you. Much like his dream last night, he couldn’t tear his eye away.

The way you flitted around, gathering everything you needed for whatever it was you were creating for him. The smell was unusual, both sweet and bitter at the same time. But for whatever maddening reason, he trusted you meant him no harm.

“It is ready, but feel free to finish eating. It works better on a full stomach.”

You walked over, setting a steaming cup in front of him. The liquid had a cloudiness to it, much like poppy milk, but it smelled almost floral. He nodded his thanks, drinking it as fast as the heat of it would allow.

Maybe his mind was playing tricks on him, but it was like the pain began to dissipate immediately. Aemond sighed as the last drops slipped down his throat. The warmth disappearing along with the throbbing in his head.

You leaned against the table, arms tucked into the pockets of your gown and simply smiling.

“It works quickly, does it not?” you asked, head tilted again like he was an experiment to observe.

Aemond set the cup down, wiping at his lips and touching the skin next to his eyepatch. Not a single ounce of pain was left.

“It does indeed, far quicker than any poppy milk I have drank.”

The prince glanced out of the window, watching as the castle began to stir to life below.

“Some might say…it is magic, my prince.”

You're so tortured when you sleep. Plagued with all your memories…

Aemond had already been in Harrenhal for a week. He had become used to the old castle, the eerie sounds that seemed to leak into his room as he tried to sleep.

Some mornings, he would visit you. Sometimes for a remedy for his pain. Sometimes simply to be in your presence. As far as he was aware, it was entirely of his own volition.

The servants seemed to look at you with both fear and reverence. Ser Simon would flit between ignoring your existence and staring at you as though you were another of Harrenhal’s spectres.

The Strong lord was as impassive towards Aemond as well. As though he tolerated the prince’s presence after his experience with Prince Daemon. Learning from his mistakes and keeping his guard up whenever he was in the young Prince’s presence.

But progress was made. Whether it was through loyalty to the King or through resignation to his fate, Simon Strong bent the knee to King Aegon. Even offering Harrenhal to Aemond as a token of House Strong’s loyalty.

And Aemond had no interest in leaving anytime soon.

Sleep, however, would still evade him. Not quite dreams, but not quite nightmares. Aemond would feel like he was sleepwalking, waking up and barely remembering what had happened. The only clue would be the dirt on his bare feet or the tangles in his hair in the morning.

And you were always there.

Sometimes just in the distance. Sometimes simply calling out his name.

But still always there.

He could deal with those dreams. There was something calming about them.

But Harrenhal would never let him rest easy. Whether he believed it or not, the castle was cursed.

One night, was the worst of all.

It had been weeks since Lucerys died. Weeks since that night had plagued his dreams. But the incident had been brought up during a tense conversation with a lesser Lord to Ser Simon. Spat as an insult towards the prince in temper.

But it invaded his dreams. Replaying them over and over until one night.

Aemond didn’t know how he’d ended up on the battlements. The wind whipping at his hair, the drizzling rain soaking through his bed shirt.

Yet he couldn’t see any of it. He could only see the fleeing silhouette of Lucerys on the back of his dragon. He could only remember the vengeance that filled his very soul.

It was like he was there. Reliving it all over again.

You reach out, and no one's there. Like a god without a prayer…

Aemond could feel the wind in his hair as though he was on Vhagar’s back. Chasing down his nephew, screaming insults and threats into the storm.

But he wanted to try and change it. To stop Vhagar clamping her jaws around Arrax’s neck. To stop Lucerys falling into the water.

His hand reached out as he saw Lucerys fall, but when his fist closed it was like he was grasping at smoke. Nothing was there, only the empty courtyard below.

Aemond leaned against the crumbling wall, gasping for air.

Then he heard you. Calling his name in that sweet voice of yours. Luring him back inside. So, he followed. His mind only on the relief you could bring him.

You waited in your chambers. You knew forcing those memories back into his mind was harsh. But it was necessary. You needed him to seek you out. To see you as his sole source of calm.

And if it meant he felt other things for you, you weren’t going to deny him.

You weren’t a fool. You had seen how Aemond looked at you when he thought you couldn’t see. Lingering just a little too long on the swells of your body. He was a young man, you could hardly blame him.

You were only a couple of years his senior, but you knew all too well the way sheltered princes acted around women.

The smell of him found you immediately. The coolness scent of the fresh air mixed with the constant scent of dragon that seemed to linger on his skin. So when your chamber door pushed open, you were barely surprised.

“My prince? Is everything alright?”

You slid from your seat by the window. White nightdress barely concealing the curves beneath. You immediately brought him inside, tugging him towards the fire.

Your hands lingered on his arms, longer than you ever had before. Rubbing up and down the cotton covered muscle to warm him.

“Sleep…I cannot sleep.”

His voice sounded so resigned, you almost felt sorry for putting him in that place to begin with.

“Nightmares? Or these cursed halls stealing your slumber?”

You let your hands trail further down, cheek pressed to the valley between his shoulder blades. His whole body was tense and cold. His eye trained solely on the flames before him. But he didn’t speak.

“Nightmare, I know that look.”

Your hands moved to his front, wrapping around his chest and pressing your body to his. Aemond tried to ignore how warm you were. How sweet you smelled, like flowers and smoke. A fragrance that had always invaded his dreams.

He felt himself relax. His head turning to try and look at you. Spinning in your hold just a little.

“It hasn’t plagued me for a long time. I cannot tell if it is these halls or the stress of war that has…”

Aemond trailed off, why was he revealing himself so easily to you?

You turned him to entirely face you. And it was only then that you realised he was missing his eyepatch. The sapphire glinting in the firelight.

(Ah-ah) Screamin' for me, baby. (Ah-ah) Like you're gonna die…

You could see the pain in his eye. The crease between his brows and the tight set of his lips. Your hand instinctively going to his jaw, thumb stroking soft circles on his skin.

“Harrenhal will do awful things to those not accustomed, my prince.”

Aemond nuzzled into your hand, eye closing in satisfaction.

“Aemond. Call me Aemond.”

His lips ghosted over your hand. Aemond had only sought comfort in one woman before you, but you were so very different from Sylvie.

He hadn’t paid you to be at his side. You weren’t chasing his presence for status or power. He could see it in your eyes.

You desired him as he did you.

Aemond didn’t know it, but you’d tried to deny it. To stop the feelings for him blossoming. You only intended to manipulate, to bring him to any form of submission you could. But you had fallen just the same.

(Ah-ah) Poison on the inside. I could be your antidote tonight…

“Aemond.”

His name had never sounded so sweet. Aemond wanted to hear it again and again. To hear you whisper it, scream it even.

“Do you need relief? I can make you so-“

Your words were cut off by his lips on yours. His hand tangled in your hair and holding you tight to your body. The other arm wrapping around your waist. No space left between your bodies.

He grunted into the kiss, your hands tangled into his shirt to steady yourself. His kiss was hungry and demanding, and you welcomed it gladly.

You could feel yourself walking back towards the bed. You had expected him to try to take control. To hold on to some semblance of power.

And you let him. You could feel it, pulling you in and begging you to succumb.

But a powerful prince at your heel was the goal.

Your knees hit foot of your bed, letting yourself fall as Aemond stood over you. You rested yourself on your elbows, trailing the tips of your toes up the length of his leg.

“Or do you need something else?”

Your hands tugged up your nightgown, revealing inch after inch of your bare legs.

Aemond swallowed thickly, the fabric of his breeches growing tighter with every ounce of flesh revealed. You were wearing nothing beneath.

“Take what you need, I am all yours.”

(Ah-ah) Screamin' for me, baby. (Ah-ah) Like you're gonna die…

His instincts were screaming at him to leave. He didn’t know you, not really. He knew your name, that you were a bastard, but he knew very little else. For all he knew, it was you playing with his mind. Making him see things, making sleep evade him night after night until he depended on you.

But in reality, he didn’t care. The fire in his loins was burning, his mind reeling. And the only solution was to have you.

If desire was his disease, you were his cure. If rage and pain were his disease, he was sure you could cure that too.

Aemond dropped smoothly to his knees, hands finding your thighs and squeezing. Pushing them apart until he could glimpse the sweet nectar that lay between.

(Ah-ah) Poison on the inside. I could be your antidote tonight…

“Anything I need?” he whispered, the tip of his nose grazing the skin of your inner thigh.

You were in control, you had to remind yourself of that. But it was hard to ignore the heat that pooled in your belly at the low tone of his voice. Your hand found his hair, tugging the tie from it and letting the silver locks fall loose around his face.

Nails grazed his scalp, gently pulling him closer and closer to your core.

“Absolutely anything,” your words fell to a moan as his tongue darted out, taking one long stripe between your folds.

It was like that one taste of you woke something within him. Gripping your thighs harder and devouring you like you were the only sustenance he needed. The curve of his nose rubbing against your pearl in tandem with his tongue, which was mapping out every fleshy inch of your inner walls.

Aemond grunted into you, his grip on your thighs brutal but the pain only heightened your desire. His own hips rutting against nothing. All he could focus on was your body, the dreams entirely forgotten.

I could play the doctor, I can cure your disease. If you were a sinner, I could make you believe…

Your back was arched off the bed. Aemond switching between lapping at your core and suckling on your swollen bud. Focused on nothing more than coaxing your release forward.

“Delicious…” he whispered, pulling away for a breath while replacing his tongue with his fingers.

The pace of the slender digits was almost as fast as his tongue. There was little doubt you weren’t his first. He could feel your muscles clenching and unclenching, signalling that your release was close.

And he wanted you to spill only on his tongue. The taste, the feel, the sound, it was all he could think of. Like it was the only thing that would bring him any kind of satisfaction. You had taken hold of his mind completely.

“Aemond…” you sighed out his name as he latched onto your pearl again.

Your hips canted up to meet his face, your hold on his hair tight enough to make him hiss in pain. But he relished in it.

A hand planted on your stomach as you peaked around his tongue held your thrashing body down. The other held your body tight against his face until you relaxed beneath him. A few final laps at your quivering walls was all he got before you pulled him up to hover over you.

“Feeling better, my prince?”

The title made him chuckle. The same question you asked after he drank down whatever remedy you created for him. His hair hanging loose around you like a curtain. His slick glossed lips hovering mere inches from yours.

His hips nestled between your thighs with his feet still planted firmly on the floor. Hardness grinding ever so slightly against your bare cunt.

“I could use a little more healing, I wager…” Aemond smiled, leaning down to brush his lips against yours.

You chased his lips, nipping at his jaw when he pulled away.

“Then let me take care of you.”

Lay you down like one, two, three. Eyes roll back in ecstasy…

Aemond didn’t hesitate when you tugged him up as you shuffled further onto the bed. Both of you quickly shedding whatever clothing remained on your body.

You could see his eye flicker immediately down to your breasts as you lay beside each other, his hand reaching out to tug you closer. It was the first time you had seen any real vulnerability in him. The broken parts that made him seek you out.

Your hand found his jaw, pulling him in for a kiss as you gently pushed him onto his back. Aemond sought control in every other aspect of his life, that was easy to see. But tonight, you were going to let him relinquish that control.

He gave in willingly. Eye closed, silver hair fanned out on the dark sheets below. The lean, yet formidable form of his body seemed so small now beneath you. Your hands rested on his chest, nails circling the lines of muscle down to his stomach.

Your thighs caged his hips, swollen cock nestled between your still damp folds.

“Surrender to me, and I’ll take away the pain.”

Your voice was like a balm to whatever uncertainty raged in him. A promise he wouldn’t be able to refuse.

Gone was the demanding prince that had devoured your cunt only moments ago. In his place was the broken boy, wrecked with guilt and rage.

And that was exactly how you needed him. Open and raw, so you could rebuild him.

Aemond nodded, hands squeezing at your waist as he tried to move you over his almost painfully hard length.

“Please…”

That was all he got out before you sank down onto him. Taking him to the hilt with a breathy moan. Your fleshy walls stretching to accommodate him as though you were built for only him.

Aemond’s eye rolled closed, your name falling from his lips as you began to ride him. You started slow at first, rolling your hips back and forth at a painfully slow pace. His hands tightening on your waist in his impatience.

One of his hands trailed up, cupping your breast in his palm and massaging the flesh with a reverence. Your hips sped up at he sat up, wrapping an arm around your waist as he latched his lips onto your pebbled bud. His tongue swirling as a groan of satisfaction left his body.

You laced a hand through his hair, holding him to your chest like a mother would a babe.

“Take what you need, my sweet boy.”

I can smell your sickness, I can cure ya (Cure). Cure your disease…

You were not a mother, not swollen with milk, but the action brought him a comfort he never understood. Just to be cared for and nurtured was enough.

Between the feel of your hot cunt swallowing his cock again and again, to the soft flesh of your breast between his lips, Aemond was as close to the heavens as he believed he may ever get.

His hips began to rut up into you, feet planted on the bed as he put all of his effort into pleasing you. The wet slap of skin against skin mingled with his grunts and your moans.

The first tendrils of his release began to lick at the base of his spine, releasing your breast and simply burying his face in the valley between.

You let him control the pace, slamming his hips into yours with wild abandon. Your release struck you like lightning, your muscles shaking as Aemond chased his own end. And it wasn’t long before he thrust into you one last time. Painting your insides with his seed.

Aemond grunted out his release against your skin. Breath huffing against you as he stilled.

You could hear him mumbling against you, words not meant for your ears. The one word that you could just about make out.

“Mine.”

You ignored it, it wasn’t for you to hear. Not yet anyway. He was in a haze of pleasure and satisfaction. Drunk from his release.

The word lingered in your mind. You had wanted him under your thrall…

But you hadn’t quite expected him to come so willingly.

(Ah) (Ah) Cure your disease. (Ah) I can smell your sickness, I can cure ya…

Every night from then on Aemond was at your door, or you were summoned to his. Seeking solace in your body in whatever way he could.

The dreams stopped. The rage smouldered, like a fire that simply needed fuel.

And you both knew the fuel would come. But for now, he was happy at your side.

You had succeeded where your sister had failed. You had brought a Targaryen prince to heel. But you didn’t know he had taken your heart as well.

Where Aemond went, you went too. Taken from the service of House Strong to the personal service of the Prince Regent.

Bring me your desire, I can cure your disease. If you were a sinner, I could make you believe…

Aemond had settled in Harrenhal now. Sending word back to King’s Landing to inform the Council that the cursed castle belonged to the King now and that Simon Strong had bent the knee.

He came immediately to your chambers after a night’s ride on Vhagar. The smell of dragon and smoke entering your chambers before he did. And when he entered, you hurried to the door to greet him.

“Do you want a bath drawing, my love?”

The endearment was new, but Aemond had never stopped you from using it. The warmth it sent through his heart was more comfort than he had felt in a long time.

Your hands were already removing his coat and folding it over a chair by the fire.

“You do not have to tend to me, you know? You are not my servant.”

It was not the first time he’d spoken such things. But you always brushed it off. You didn’t tend to him because you felt you had to, it was because you wanted to. Because he needed it.

“Servant or no, I like taking care of you.” You answered, pressing a kiss to his cheek with a smile.

Aemond hummed in response. Maybe it was because he simply wasn’t used to it. Having someone tend to his every need because they truly cared for him. Or at least, he believed you cared for him.

You’d given him no reason to think otherwise.

Lay you down like one, two, three. Eyes roll back in ecstasy…

The bath was drawn, though Aemond had demanded a servant do the work whilst you lounged in his lap. His coat and leather tunic discarded, boots kicked off to the side. His hair loose just as you liked it.

The water was cooling as he finally stripped and stepped in. You kneeled at the side, letting yourself be warmed by the fire. Aemond’s hand reached out for your chin, turning you to plant a kiss on your lips.

“Get in with me.”

It wasn’t a question or a command. Aemond commonly stated what he wanted and left you a choice of whether to follow or not.

You stood, letting his dripping hand slide down your dress. You let the fabric pool around your ankles, stepping in and letting your back rest against his chest. His arms wrapping around your waist, hands flattening against your stomach.

Aemond’s lips found the juncture of your throat and shoulder, planting lingering kisses to your skin.

“You have bewitched me, that’s the rumour that is circling this ruin.” Aemond whispered suddenly, his voice muffled with the skin of your shoulder.

You laughed softly. You’d heard the same. That you had poisoned the prince’s mind, that you had used your unholy powers to seduce and entrance him.

“Is that what you believe? That I have toyed with your mind? Used my body to control you?”

It didn’t hurt you. Not anymore. It wouldn’t be the first time you’d been accused of such.

Aemond’s hands trailed lower, fingers finding the heat between your thighs and circling your bud softly.

“You have done many things, my little witch,” Aemond hummed, parting your folds with his other hand and sinking two fingers within.

“Whether it is enchantment or love I care little. All I know, is that I am better when I am with you.”

That was all you needed to hear. Leaning your head back and pressing hot kisses to his jaw as his hand moved faster. Water splashing around you as he pressed his hips against your backside.

“You have cured me, little witch. Fixed my broken parts and made me whole.”

You could only moan his name, eyes rolled shut as he bit down on your shoulder. Shifting your body until he could slide his length to rest between your folds. The cant of your hips enough to bring him to release just as you spilled over his hand.

I know all your secrets, I can cure ya, oh. Cure your disease…

You knew his heart, Aemond knew that deep down. You knew what ailed him before he could even speak the words himself. Whether it was love or something else, he’d realised quickly that it didn’t matter.

He never openly said it, Aemond wasn’t sure he ever would. But he knew you knew it. In the way he held you. In the way he would take you over and over every night.

It was as though you were a piece to a puzzle he hadn’t realised he’d been struggling with.

His little witch.

(Ah) Cure your disease. (Ah) Cure ya. (Ah) I can smell your sickness, I can cure ya…

Aemond was in a shroud of bliss. The past failures of the war meant nothing now. He had secured Harrenhal, he was a step closer to finding more success as more of Rhaenyra’s followers fell or abandoned her.

So, when a letter arrived, carried by a servant to what had become your shared chambers, he had believed nothing could ruin what he had.

But the Targaryen symbol, painted red and black on the wax lit a fire within him that hadn’t existed in a long time. He dismissed everyone, even you, from his presence as he read. The letter was from his uncle. Congratulating him on securing Harrenhal.

But that wasn’t all.

It was an invitation. A taunt even. Goading him to end the war once and for all. Prince against Prince. Uncle against nephew. Dragon against dragon.

You could tell something was wrong the second you saw him again. The tense set of his brow and jaw. The letter discarded on the floor.

“Daemon?”

Aemond nodded, continuing to stare out of the window.

“He wishes to settle this once and for all. Him against me.” He snapped, his hands clasped behind his back.

You were already forming a plan. You knew Daemon, you knew what his mindset was now, having seen him only months past before he murdered your sister – a fact you had sometimes considered revenge for.

“Invite him to Harrenhal. The God’s Eye has enough space for dragons to battle.”

Aemond turned to you in shock. You planned to send him to his potential death?

But he knew you. You were more intelligent than some would allow themselves to believe. You read people like Aemond read books.

Your hands wrapped around his waist.

“Bring him here and I will handle the rest. You will have your battle, and I will repay him for my sister’s demise.”

Aemond hummed, bringing one of your hands to his lips and kissing it.

The date was set. Daemon was set to arrive that night. Vhagar was as restless as her rider. Waiting outside the blackened walls for her rider’s call.

The screech of Caraxes was heard before he was seen. The entire castle was on edge. A dragon battle was both a spectacle and a devastation.

Aemond was sure Daemon would arrive alone, and he was right. There was no army, just his uncle and his blood red dragon.

The elder prince landed outside the gate, settling beside Caraxes to wait for Aemond.

But you remembered how easily Daemon had succumbed to the horrors of Harrenhal, and you could only hope it would happen again.

Though you weren’t going to leave things to chance.

Herbs were you weapon. Knowing what could warp or sharpen a mind. It was an unfair advantage, of course, but you had good reason to ensure Aemond’s victory.

The child that grew in your womb.

The herbs hung from the tree Caraxes rested under were subtle, but the mix of scents would be just enough to meddle with Daemon’s concentration. You had no plans to allow any risk that Aemond would perish.

Aemond was outside beside Vhagar. Weapons strapped to his belt and a stern set to his expression. He could feel your presence the second you stepped onto the shore.

“I had to see you…” you called out, taking cautious steps closer.

He turned, his face softening as he saw you.

“A welcome sight, my little witch.” His voice was as tense as his face.

He closed the distance between you, wrapping his arms around you and kissing the top of your head.

You both stood in silence. The weight of what was coming heavy in the air.

Despite everything, despite your beginnings, he loved you. Even if he never said it, he loved you.

And you loved him.

When you pulled away, your expression was entirely serious.

“Come back, my love. Whatever it takes, come back…to us.”

Aemond held you at arm’s length, silently begging for an explanation. All you gave was moving his hand to rest on your womb. The heavy fabric of your gown having hid the swell of your stomach for the last few weeks.

“I’ll never leave you…either of you.”

The vow he made sunk into your veins. Those words meaning more than any declaration of love.

He turned, mounting Vhagar as Caraxes screeched in the distance.

The battle begun.

I can cure your disease. (Ah) Cure your disease. (Ah) Cure your disease. (Ah) Ooh…

You watched from the safety of the castle. Hand on your stomach as you silently prayed.

You had fixed his pain, gave him something to fight for.

You could only hope it would be enough.

Aemond Taglist:

@legitalicat @thenameswinter99 @sylasthegrim

@aemondsbabe @kaelatargaryen @thought--bubble

@towriteloveontheirarms @anjelicawrites @multyfangirl

@blissfulphilospher @elaratyrell

@tumblin-theworldaway @aemondsbabygirl

@hoosbandewan @mysticalendings @arcielee

[mswyrr]

One of the most important bits of dialogue in hotd is from Viserys in 1x01:

"The idea that we control the dragons is an illusion. They're a power man should never have trifled with. One that brought Valyria its doom. If we don't mind our own histories, it will do the same to us."

This is a man who bonded with Balerion, The Black Dread, the oldest dragon who had actually hatched in Old Valyria. This was the same dragon who flew Princess Aerea, a 12-year-old girl who bonded with him, back to Valyria against her will - sickening and killing her in the process (Fire & Blood, p 263). The little girl was away from her home at the time and probably feeling "I want to go home" but what Balerion did with that feeling killed her. His will was strong and his memory was *deep*.

Viserys only rode him one time, his inaugural flight, and then never again. IMO he experienced something bonding with that ancient beast that--in addition to studying the family's history and Valyrian lore--convinced him of the danger and fundamentally uncontrollable nature of dragons.

It is totally in keeping with canon events that Vhagar, in the current timeline the most ancient dragon alive--a dragon who drank deep of bloodshed and war with Visenya during the Conquest and *likes* war--translated Aemond's anger at Lucerys into murder of the boy and his small dragon. It is perfectly in keeping with what the show has been saying since episode 1.

An ancient, powerful and wilful dragon overcoming the will of its rider is *literally canon*. Princess Aerea must have been terrified during the whole, long flight to Valyria, and yet all her protests couldn't stop the dragon she'd bonded to.

I would also say that the Valyrians turned magical creatures, dragons, into weapons of warfare - that the dragons, in that sense, represent war. And the show is imo fundamentally antiwar - so here war is something you cannot control. GRRM has said the dragons are "nukes," which fits with this reading:

“Dragons are the nuclear deterrent, and only [Daenerys Targaryen, one of the series’ heroines] has them, which in some ways makes her the most powerful person in the world,” Martin said in 2011. “But is that sufficient? These are the kind of issues I’m trying to explore. The United States right now has the ability to destroy the world with our nuclear arsenal, but that doesn’t mean we can achieve specific geopolitical goals. Power is more subtle than that. You can have the power to destroy, but it doesn’t give you the power to reform, or improve, or build.” (source)

War and nukes - you cannot aim them only at the guilty, only at those you hate; you cannot prevent them from consuming the innocent as well. They a raging fire that consumes, that is all. And so, on that level, I just adore what they're doing and how it all fits together.

Aemond's domestic violence fits too - boys go to war thinking it will be honorable and manly and they'll protect "their women" but instead come home and hurt those very women. This thing burns and burns until it is exhausted, and it doesn't stay contained, not within you or outside you. "So it goes," to steal a phrase from antiwar writer Kurt Vonnegut.

The reason I keep coming back to my antiwar reading of the show is that things that people dismiss as "bad" or mock actually come together beautifully if you don't expect to war to be glorious and masterful and heroic. If you take the text seriously, in terms of what the dragons are metaphorically and what characters have outright said about their fundamentally uncontrollable nature. The lore supports what Vhagar did! That she could overcome a teenaged human's will with her century old bloodlust.

[n-i-m-u-e]

Lucemond bodyswap!AU

This plot was quite popular when I was a teenager (before the dinosaurs), but I've hardly ever seen it in this fandom. And a few days ago I literally had this dream (yes, I resumed taking antidepressants this month and usually when you start taking them, you have very vivid, detailed and interesting dreams at first) I couldn't let go of the idea.

Let's imagine that Rhaenyra and her family stay in KL until Viserys' death to prevent the usurper from taking her throne, and then just stay there because she's now queen. And so, with the help of some bizarre Valyrian magic really don't care the causes, only the effects, Luke and Aemond swap bodies and, according to the classic of the genre, cannot tell anyone about it (although Helaena knows anyway). And of coooourse, they have to work together to get everything back to the way it was.

-----------------------∞----------------------

for me, this is such an inexhaustible endless source of dramedy:

Aemond’s first thought when he looks in the mirror and sees his nephew's reflection is 'What can I do with this horribly messy hair?'

Luke wakes up in Aemond’s chambers and struggles with his new size, bumping into and tripping over everything until he finally reaches the room he’d fallen asleep in the night before, already covered in bruises. There, he sees himself—or is it his body?—turning the room upside down, searching for something. Luke timidly asks what Aemond is looking for, and with a look of wild madness in his eye, Aemond barks: “A comb!”

Luke, on the other hand, doesn't care about Aemond’s hair at all. It annoyed him how long it is, although he's mesmerized by its softness and color. Especially the color, since he’s imagined countless times what it would be like if he’d been born with Targaryen hair. But he can’t deal with the long strands and just ties them into a messy… something. Aemond nearly has a stroke when he sees this vandalism for the first time.

They agree to call a truce until they find out how it happened, but they constantly fight for various reasons. Mostly because Aemond is the one who panics dramatising overreacts about the situation. Luke, as an empathetic child without emotional constipation, even tries to calm him down. But, as expected, only encounters rudeness in return. The uncle says that he has never felt so defective before, even after he had lost an eye. He also says that he is very worried that Luke-in-his-body will now disgrace Aemond with ‘such idiotic expressions’ after Luke-in-his-body cannot hide the obvious resentment on his face.

Their attempts to behave like the other are rather clumsy. Mainly because Lucerys has never really hidden his emotions, while Aemond has never really shown his.

Aemond is shocked to find that in his sister’s family, displays of physical affection without any serious reason are perfectly normal. On the first dinner of being Luke, Aemond reflexively twists Jace’s arm when he tries to ruffle his hair unexpectedly. Later, when Rhaenyra, noticing something is off with "her sweet boy", pulls him close in a gentle hug to figure out what’s wrong, Aemond is beyond errored. And let’s not even talk about how the poor guy feels when Daemon slaps him on the back and asks for his opinion on something. Yes, used to being fairly distant from his own family, Aemond is really stunned by the intensity of the interconnectedness in his older sister's household.

After all this, he goes to complain to Luke, who is also in shock and distressed about 'Aemond's day', but it's more of a ‘Damn Bitch, You Live Like This?’. He hasn't seen any of his uncle's family all day and no one has even looked for him, except for Sir Christon (and it's a pretty enough nightmare). He tells Aemond that maybe understands why he's such a prick - because he hasn't ever been hugged enough.

Aemond, who can't come up with a plausible reason for not training with Jace, decides that he will quickly defeat his older nephew. But he is annoyed to realise that Luke's body is not as strong and trained as he is used to, and he cannot hold a sword of the weight that Aemond is used to. The fact that Jace is only gently encouraging his “brother” irritates him even more.

In the early morning, Aemond forces his nephew to train with him to learn how to use his new body—instead, Aemond cringes as watches Luke struggle to cope with his own. But after a little while, using each other's advice, they have a good sparring. Aemond is very excited about the possibility that having both eyes and the agility of a small body opens up—is triumphant at his victory. Luke look like he doesn't cares (he really doesn't, because he'd rather be in bed at this hour).

But the real hit for Aemond comes when Damon meets him later that morning and tells him that he saw the fight between him and Luke and is really proud of him because he has ‘unexpectedly good technique’. Aemond's fangirl-daddy-issues-emotions run high, and even the warning that ‘needs to be careful with this one-eyed Hightower cunt, because his extreme niceness is too alarming’ doesn't diminish them. By the end of the day, Aemond is mentally running around with the fact that ‘the Rogue Prince praised my fighting skills.’

Luke laughs for a very long time when hears about this conversation. Because ‘Daemon saw me beat you, and according to him, I fight only slightly better than Joff. Joff is six, uncle. Daemon thought "you" went easy on "me".’

They try to find some information on how to get back into their own bodies in Valyrian manuscripts, but Luke discovers just how terrible his uncle’s pronunciation is when he tries reading something aloud. The search is soon forgotten, as their impromptu speaking lesson stretches late into the evening.

The amount of time they’ve been spending together lately doesn’t go unnoticed and starts raising questions. So, the boys decide to split up for a while and conduct their searches separately.

Luke, who is unbearably bored being Aemond and lacking his discipline, decides to find some entertainment. He’d normally call Jace to fly or invite Rhaena for a walk, but obviously, that’s not an option now. So, he heads to see Helaena, who is delighted to have him visit. Luke confirms that his "quirky aunt" is really sweet, but freezes when she declares she’s 'so glad Aemond can see the underside’.

Later, Luke encounters Aegon too, who makes a comment about Aemond-Luke’s hairstyle. And boy, out of habit, reacts in much the same way as he would if something similar happened between him and Jace—he responds with some kind of small joke. Aegon stares at him as if he’s grown a second head—or at least regrown his second eye. Slowly, Lucerys realizes that his stoic, cold uncle is really just wearing a mask. After all, truly coldblooded people don’t flare up at every little remark.

Aemond, who’s genuinely trying to solve the problem, finds a reference to a book that might be in Dragonstone’s library. Without thinking twice, he decides to fly there. Based on who he looks like now, he thinks no one will find it odd if Lucerys Velaryon spends a few hours in the library at his own home. He heads to the dragonpit to ride Lucerys Velaryon dragon.

But dragons are not humans. Arrax is not at all pleased when some suspicious guy—no matter how much he looks like his rider (this no less suspicious point also needs to be clarified)—tries to approach him and decides to take a few bites out of the pretender. Aemond is rescued by Luke, who is on his way to visit his dragon. Unlike his uncle, he did not assume that Arrax could be fooled by appearances.

Luke angrily tells his uncle that he 'tried to steal someone else's dragon again and almost got hurt.' For the first time since they switched bodies, they get into a real fight, almost ending in blows. But when Aemond sweeps Luke off his feet with a well-placed strike from his “blind side” and and falls on top of him, they have some feelings that are… let's say not typical of a fight, which makes Aemond embarrassed and run away. What can you do—they still teenagers🤷‍♀️

And speaking of teenagers. If you wake up with morning wood while in someone else’s body, is jerking off in such a situation still considered masturbation or already sex? Just asking.

Aemond, isolated from his usual routine and still holding a grudge against Luke, decides to “gather some information on the enemy camp,” as he calls it. In reality, he's simply finding out how Luke is treated by his family. And this simultaneously makes him envious and angry on behalf of his nephew. Because he doesn't like the condescending attitude that thrives on Luke. Now it becomes clearer to him why he once thought the boy was weak and foolish, though in recent days, he’s realised that’s not the case at all. But this condescension causes Lucerys’ impostor syndrome to progress. It doesn't allow him to become stronger.

Also, unexpectedly for himself, Aemond finds that he actually likes his cousins, and even little Joffrey is “a decent kid.” Jacerys stops provoking a dull irritation as long as he’s either silent or far enough away that his words can’t be heard.

For a few days, Aemond and Luke avoid each other. But eventually, Luke comes to make peace and finally apologizes to his uncle, not just for the recent incident, but for everything.

They decide to fly to Dragonstone together because Luke knows how to sneak into the castle. After all, he has slipped out countless times with Jace, Rhaena, and on his own.

TO BE CONTINUED...

[sugutoad]

Wdym the dance of dragons? Alicent and Rhaenyra are happily married. Mysaria is Rhaenyra’s mistress and Criston is Alicent’s. Criston is also with Gwayne (don’t ask who is with who, everyone should kiss) They did some Mellisandre magic and brought back Lucerys and Aemond’s eye. Apologies were exchanged. Jace is chilling in the North with Cregan and all is well. The Green’s keep the throne, but Rhaenyra is now Princess of Dragonstone, Jace is her heir, Luce is heir to Driftmark and Joffery is heir to Harrenhall. The Strong boys are legitimized by Aegon. Everyone is happy.

The End

[pessimisticpigeonsworld]

Rhaenyra and Motherhood

Motherhood is an integral part to Rhaenyra's character, both in the show and the book. So many of her actions are based on her children and her legacy is carried by her sons Aegon III and Viserys II. However, her antis are obsessed with removing motherhood from her character or claiming that she was simply a bad mother.

Rhaenyra's motivations throughout the Dance were driven by her love for her children. From the loss of Visenya fueling her desire to reclaim her throne to Joffrey's death causing her to return to Dragonstone. Even before the Dance, Rhaenyra's desire to protect her children was part of her motivation for marrying Daemon so quickly.

Despite these facts, Rhaenyra's antis always want to portray Rhaenyra as a selfish woman who doesn't care about her children and only wants power and to get laid. They blatantly ignore how Rhaenyra loves her children so completely.

Rhaenyra raised Jace to be someone even Mushroom agreed would be a great king. He was kind, intelligent, protective, a good military strategist even at fourteen, and a skilled fighter. Even though the show decided to give many of his attributes to Aemond, he's still a good man and much wiser than his older uncles. He was also respectful towards women and had a good relationship with Baela.

Lucerys was greatly loved by Rhaenyra, in the show she calls him her sweet boy. She raised Luke to be a kind and brave boy, he was respectful to Rhaena and had a sweet relationship with her. He was protective of his siblings and just wanted to make his mother proud.

Joffrey was a brave boy, perhaps too much for his own good. He wanted to defend what was left of his family, which led to his untimely death. But in life he was loved by his siblings and Rhaenyra and she was fiercely protective of him.

"Nor would she suffer to be parted from Prince Aegon, her last living son...day and night the boy remained by her side like a small pale shadow."

Even though the show hasn't yet given us any stills of Rhaenyra and Aegon the Younger, we know a lot about their relationship from the book. After the deaths of her other children, Rhaenyra held Aegon closer than ever. He grew to be a good king, despite his severe PTSD. He was firm with his advisors, stabilized the realm after the Dance, strove for peace, visited the sick, and tried to bring back dragons using magic. The only reason he isn't remembered fondly is because he wasn't happy or interested in kissing up to the lords.

Due to Viserys' age at the time of the Dance and his subsequent separation from his family, we don't know much about his relationship with Rhaenyra. But we do know that his disappearance was greatly grieved by her and that he was very close to his brother Aegon. Regardless, Viserys was a good king and such a skilled politician he was compared to Jaehaerys himself.

Visenya may have been stillborn, but she was greatly loved by Rhaenyra. Rhaenyra's only daughter, she was mourned greatly by her parents and it was her loss that helped spur Rhaenyra in her desire to reclaim her throne.

Motherhood is one of the key aspects of Rhaenyra's character. Her trauma revolving around the tragic death of her mother makes her love for her children and happiness as a mother even more compelling. She was at her happiest when she was able to live with her beloved husband and children unbothered by the Greens. She deserved to reign with her children around her. Their loss destroyed her emotionally and removed any hope Aegon and Aemond had for mercy from her or her faction.

Even though the misogyny of Westeros prevented her from being remembered as a true queen, her children are still fondly remembered. It's through them her legacy and final victory over the Greens live on, and the Green stans hate that so they try to remove her connection to her children. But their efforts are as useless as their favs, as Rhaenyra's legacy is alive and well in ASOIAF through Daenerys and their beloved usurper and his bitch mother are only remembered as war mongers and power hungry thieves.

[onebrainsel]

I feel like this might've come up at some point. Someone must've discussed it, right? But, hear me out:

Alys Rivers could be a bastard of House Strong. And if she was, there's a chance that all the Velaryon Boys could be magically inclined. And that, my friends, brings me joy.

I was thinking specifically about Lucerys when this thought occurred. But some, or all three of the boys could be witchy and weird too! I mean, they're already weird, but in a Targaryen brand of weird. So why not have them be weird in the 'forest witch, first man, ancient eldritch magic' way.

Harrenhal is a rite of passage, and aunty Alys is there to be their cool but slightly unnerving guide.

Accidentally astral projecting into people's dreams, so they're all just awkwardly staring at each other in that same void Helaena was at in the season 2 finale.

Having this weird innate ability to understand the forest, instinctually knowing more than they should etc.

Honestly, this can go a myriad of different ways. A huge sandbox, if you will.

[greeksorceress]

aegon favors lucerys over his own siblings and jacaerys. may it be because lucerys is actually almost a decade younger than him and aegon can treat him like a toy, as if the younger boy is nothing but a plaything for whenever he isn’t busy nursing cups of chasing skirts. whatever it might be, aegon always has little magic tricks prepared to sweep little lucerys’ mind off, and he would be the first (if not the only one) to be greeted when they all meet for training. 

helaena favors him, too. lucerys is a force to be reckoned with, with energy similar to the one of a storm. still, he’s the most patient with helaena, surprisingly. not only that, but he also understands her, truly understands her. he’s the only one who can keep up with helaena’s inscrutable words, and he would never oppose his sweet aunt when she asks for a dance (or the idea she has of one), or when she needs help hunting for certain species of insects until the sun sets in the horizon. 

of course jacaerys does, too. lucerys is his little brother, the first to be born after him. the kind of bond they share is yet to be matched by any set of members amongst their family. lucerys is jacaerys’ partner in crime, his other half, the heart of his thoughts and the brains behind his feelings. he would die for lucerys, and he would do it without hesitation. 

even daeron seems to seek lucerys more than he seeks the rest of them, for the letters that he sends to the second son of rhaenyra are always heftier in number and length than the ones he sends to his siblings. to his own mother. 

and then, there’s aemond. he doesn’t say it (he doesn’t need to, much to his own chagrin), but it’s clear as the summer skies that he prefers lucerys too. he basks in lucerys’ admiration and needs his attention like a sunflower yearns for the sun to feed it. he always answers any and all questions that lucerys’ inquisitive mind might come up with, and if he works harder both in the training yard and with the maesters looking for that very specific impressed look in lucerys’ eyes, well, that’s his business and his alone.

and when lucerys follows aemond around, desperately asking for his love and his time (blessedly unaware of how much aemond would actually give him), they all start speaking. soft mumbling here and there between servants that think are being subtle enough, and obvious jesting from the family members who don’t need to be coy. 

“aemond is lucerys’ favorite”

lucerys doesn’t care about no magic trick if aemond is there to talk about a new fable he learned in his lessons that day. lucerys doesn’t have time to chase bugs and dance in the sunlight if aemond says he’s going to help him with his sword training. and he has no time to admire jacaerys when aemond bests them all, even with the lack of a dragon, with such an ease (well practised, but lucerys doesn’t need to know that) that leaves little lucerys breathless.

for they are all right, and the satisfaction of the matter settles in aemond’s guts like a warm blanket. for he is, indeed, lucerys’ favorite. he’s the favorite’s favorite, and nobody can take that from him.

[cinderkaliningrad]

Summary: Aemond is an introverted and sad boy, marked by constant bullying from his older brother and his nephews. But even the most lonely and different children have faithful friends.

TW: Aemond and OC are children (he's 11 and she's 16), she/her pronouns. Sad, angst, bullying, friendship. Death of a tiny creature. Kid!Aemond x Witch!OC Reader.

A/N: Aemond before having Vhagar and losing his eye, this happens around the time when Lucerys, Jacaerys and Aegon tease Aemond with the pig. The witch is a firebender and healer called Nhaenya.

Masterlist >>>

The witch waves her hands in the air, and out of the chimney comes a flock of funny little fire dragons, causing the prince to laugh. ‘They're so small and cute... They look so real.’ He compliments her on her handiwork. ‘How do you do it? You're amazing.’  

‘I'm just a witch.’ Nhaenya replies in a humble tone, but Aemond shakes his head. ‘Don't say that! You are extraordinary.’ His words make her smile. With a wave of his hand, the little dragons disappear into the fire again, causing delight in him. ‘Why did you make them disappear?’ the boy protests. 

‘They must go home.’ She says in an amused tone, Nhaenya likes to keep the magic in everything, even the simplest things. 

‘Are they real?’ Aemond asks. 

‘Maybe. Call them.’ She points to the fireplace. 

Aemond kneels in front of the fire and calls to the little dragons. ‘Come, little ones... Come. I want to see you again.’ He is disappointed when nothing answers his call. Behind him, the soft laughter of the witch is heard.

‘My prince, Zaldrīzes rȳbus, lo mērī udrirzi Valyrio eglio ȳdrassua.’ 

Aemond tries again to call them back. ‘Māzīstēs, zaldrīzestēs, māzīstēs.’ A small beast emerges from the crackling flames to the surprise of Aemond, whose face lights up with joy. ‘It worked! It worked! They're real!’ 

‘As real as magic and dragons are.’ She takes every opportunity to give Aemond a hint of the illusion and innocence that should fill his childhood. She wants nothing more than his happiness, and would like him to always smile, because she knows what it's like to grow up too fast. Lost in her thoughts, she doesn't notice when the prince takes the little fire dragon in his hands and with a smile asks, ‘May I keep him? Please.’ The little creature made of fire walks over the prince's palms, tickling him. Nhaenya takes a vial with a permanence spell, so that the little fire dragon will not dissolve over time when the fire that creates it loses its magic. ‘Well, that's fine. But only because you asked nicely, my prince.’ He puts the little fire dragon in the jar and closes it. ‘You must keep it here or the magic will dissipate.’

Aemond smiles broadly, his eyes still on the little dragon, now safely trapped in the jar. ‘Of course, of course,’ he says quickly, carefully taking the jar with the little dragon from her hands. ‘I'll be very careful with that, I promise.’

He looks up at her, his eyes sparkling with excitement. ‘And thank you... for everything. I... I should be going. Mother will be waiting for me,’ he says, his face drooping a little as he remembers the real world outside this magical bubble.

She smiles warmly at him. ‘I'll see you soon, don't worry.’ He nods and leaves with the jar tightly hugged to his chest. Aemond walks down the hallway, holding the jar containing the little fire dragon tightly in his hands. He glances at it from time to time, a small smile on his face, before looking ahead again. As he turns a corner, he suddenly bumps into someone and almost drops the flask. He comes face to face with his mother, Alicent. She looks at him with a stern expression, narrowing her eyes slightly as they fall on the jar he is holding. Her mouth opens in an obvious frown of disapproval. Emond gulps, suddenly feeling very small and childish under his mother's gaze. ‘Mother... I was...’ He falls silent, his mind struggling to come up with a good excuse.

‘I don't want excuses.’ Alicent reprimands her in a stern voice. ‘To your room. Now! By the gods... Can't you focus? Stop this damned obsession with dragons. And what have I told you about talking to the witch? Can't you listen to me on one thing? And give me that damn flask you're holding, you're too old to have toys!’ Behind the queen, Ser Criston stares impassively at the scene. 

‘It's not a toy! It's magic and it's mine. It's my dragon!’ protests Aemond, pushing the jar out of his mother's sight.

‘Aemond, please. Why can't you just settle for...’ Alicent looks into the eyes of her son, who stares defiantly at him with the jar hugged against his chest. She lowers her tone, ‘Someday you'll have a dragon, I promise. But that thing, it's not a dragon. Give it to me, please. I don't want you to get your hopes up about something that isn't real.’  

Slowly, Aemond takes steps back. ‘It's real, he's alive.’ Alicent walks towards him with an outstretched hand, until Ser Criston loses patience and hovers over the boy after a couple of strides. ‘Heed your mother, my prince. All will be well.’ 

Aemond tries to run to keep the flask from being taken from him, but Ser Criston grabs it and a struggle begins between the two. Meanwhile, Alicent, tries to command her protector to leave her son without much success, once again, she is a powerless and impotent woman in the face of men. 

‘No!’ The young prince shouts as a wrong move by the knight throws the flask against the ground, causing it to shatter into a thousand pieces. The little dragon lies confused on the damp ground, stunned by the blow and the fall. 

‘Ser Christ, enough, no need for violence!’ Alicent shouts. But the knight ignores him and grabs the fire spirit with his gloved hand with such force that it extinguishes his magic. The magical creature created from Nhaenya's power makes a pitiful little sound as it is crushed by Ser Criston, causing the queen to put her hands to her mouth, while Aemond lunges towards him to force his hand open.

‘Stop, you're hurting him!’ Aemond is finally able to open Ser Criston's hand, only to discover that there is nothing left of his little fire dragon but a lump of coal. The boy's face turns pale and his hands fall to his sides. ‘You killed him...’ 

Alicent shakes his head, trying to ignore his son's pain and his knight's actions. ‘It wasn't real, Aemond. He was the illusory creation of a witch. Think about it, it could have been evil. That witch has no respect for the gods, you should not trust her.’ ‘He was my friend.’ He whispers, taking the lump of coal between his fingers and then rushing off to his chambers. ‘And she's not evil, she's my friend!’  

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[cheshira-go]

Lucerys Velarion as Warlock prince of Harrenhal

“ There are rumors about the boy. That at night he whispers with the ghosts of the old cursed castle and feeds a pack of local dogs with pieces of fresh human flesh. That those who ever wanted to kill him were suddenly choking on their own blood like sea water. That he is a bastard not only of the lord of these lands, but also of another, more ancient house.

Aemond doesn't care about the rumors. But he cares about the boy, the mystery he keeps behind his smile and the dark look in his eyes. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ— I can help you get the crown. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ — And what do you want in return, bastard? 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ — Your eye. ”

or au, where Rhaenyra was forced to abandon her bastards, and Lucerys was raised by Alys Rivers who also taught him magic.

[darushi-chan]

Day 4. My last drawing for Magical Boy Lucerys

Civilian appereances and some other small details for the AU. Also got to have some fun with some of my nonusual brushes. I'm also leaving the tiny Ao3 lore dump I did. Can't wait to keep seeing what everyone else created for the rest of the week, yay. https://archiveofourown.org/works/48661156 Note: The dragon brooch its the one they use in the show, I just really love the use of the three headed dragon theme, so that's not mine at all, don't bite me.

[sincerelyourswhistledown]

Daydreaming about Aemond becoming king after the dance of the dragons and being gifted a magic mirror from some mysterious foreign noble. The noble tells him the mirror shows him his deepest desire and once he puts it in his chambers, he starts seeing Lucerys, the nephew he killed, in it.

Lucerys looks different, his clothes are weirder and his room had these weird contraptions like the small black box he sees his nephew using all the time. Unbeknownst to Aemond, he’s actually seeing into the future. He tries to talk to the Lucerys in his mirror but it doesn’t seem like the boy could hear, continuing to do whatever he was doing. Not that it matters, Aemond is happy enough to be able to see his nephew everyday.

He likes being able to watch his nephew sleep or read a book in his bed while he does his own work. He likes it even more when he watches Lucerys squirm and moan in bed as he pleasures himself with his own fingers. Aemond becomes so obsessed with the mirror that he barely even leaves his chambers anymore, demanding all of his tasks be sent to him instead.

It all goes downhill when one day he sees Lucerys bring a boy home. He gets so angry when he sees Lucerys make out with this boy that he starts banging on the mirror, desperately trying to get them to stop. Soon enough, the two boys break apart as Lucerys glances at the mirror in shock. The bang seemed to have come from the mirror and to Aemond’s delight it was enough to catch Luke’s attention. Unfortunately for Aemond, it isn’t enough to get them to stop as the boy coaxes Lucerys into making out with him again.

Aemond ends up watching them fuck, he’s furious but the incident was enough to give him hope that there was finally a way for him to get Lucerys’ attention.

A few days later, while Lucerys is getting ready for a date he stands right in front of the mirror. Oblivious to the other person watching him from the other end. Aemond burns with desire, his hands itched to touch Lucerys. With his curls looking so soft and his mouth shiny and plush, the makeup making him look even more enticing.

Overcome with so much desire, Aemond reaches into the mirror and pulls.

To both of their shock, Lucerys is pulled into the mirror and straight into Aemond’s arms. The younger boy is terrified but Aemond is filled with so much happiness.

Finally. Aemond thinks.

The younger boy begs to be returned home but Aemond refuses to hear any of it. Lucerys’ pleas of home and freedom fall to deaf ears as Aemond sends out commands to prepare for a wedding and a coronation. The boy seems terrified of him but it was fine. Aemond could work with this Lucerys, better a terrified Luke than a dead one.

With Aemond as king and his beloved nephew as his Queen they could finally bring House Targaryen back to its former glory.

[corviids]

scanned sketches for my magical boy lucerys concept

[aedonys]

Day 5 of #LcmdFatedAu event: Classic fantasy.

Inspired by the "Harry Potter" series, featuring lucemond as tomarry.

(Hogwarts AU!hotd)

The entire wizarding world held its breath in anticipation of the next realm's delight, the boy who was promised, wondering whether he would join the ranks of Hufflepuff considering his charming personality, or follow in his brother's Gryffindor footsteps.

When the moment finally arrived and he stepped into Hogwarts, the Sorting Hat's declaration was immediate and resounding: "SLYTHERIN," it cried as soon as it dropped on his head.

Lucerys found himself face-to-face with his uncle, who was his senior by four years.

The smirking and smug of face Aemond Targaryen, familiar yet different, gave Lucerys a pause in his carefully written life plans. Slowly, he returned the smirk.

In contrast to other families, the inbreeding in the Targaryens did not produce squibs; however, they couldn't evade the madness that coursed within their blood. Lucerys was always aware that his uncle fell under that predicament, thoughless and cruel, a certain belief confirmed further by the eye scar incident five years ago and the discovery of his dragon dreams.

Aemond's affinity for the dark arts was an open secret, yet his mother, hailing from one of the lightest families of the Sacred 28, took it upon herself to "guide him onto the path of light." This was despite the fact that all her offspring bore the blood of dragons.

Lucerys embraced the task of dismantling Aemond's tyrannical notions regarding purebloods and Muggle-borns. Moreover, it wasn't a secret that Aemond had developed an unsettling fixation on him. Still, Lucerys couldn't find fear within himself nor reject the attention he garnered.

It was alluring in a way, the freedom from not having to live up to being the world's saviour, to be wanted solely for who you truly were.

In time, their connection deepened into love. This became another scandal, coinciding with his mother and Daemon's marriage. History doesn't repeat itself, but it certainly carries an inherent rhyme that keeps on playing in the background.

But love alone couldn't shield Aem from his destiny. Despite Luke's plea that he forsake immortality & unreasonable power, it all came to nought. His ominous dreams held a promise for a miserable future for both of them; one lost in the shadows and the other buried under flames.

Aemond's darker inclinations ultimately consumed him. He betrayed Luke's trust and oaths, fully embracing his Voldemort identity during the four years of separation from Lucerys. Luke was left heartbroken, grieving the loss of the love he believed they shared.

Luke tried to confront Aemond about soul magic and its consequences. Regrettably, Aemond remained obstinate, his mind frayed, his magic nibbling at his rationality and logic. He realized too late that his lover was irretrievable.

His aemond was lost to a morbid dream.

"My affection for you was never as innocent as children's fables; it was much more insidious. It engulfed the world, expanding ceaselessly. My love's threads were void, consisting only of myself, and the days elapsed until they could no longer bear me. Nothing had ever carried me away from this world until I thought my soul was forfeit, that perhaps I had died." - Lucerys Velaryon

When the moment of reckoning arrived, a crucial decision compelled Luke to decide between saving Voldemort (or what remained of Aemond) and protecting the Wizarding World. The love he held for Aemond clashed with his duty as the "Chosen One," leaving Luke shattered by the heartbreaking decision he was forced to make. Yet, as difficult as it was, he persisted.

After destroying the 7 horcruxes (where a piece of him shatters along the vanquished soul pieces of aemond), Lucerys sacrificed himself to deliver the final blow that destroyed the last horcrux, which Luke discovered had dwelled within him since the eye incident.

Without looking back, and after believing his love was forever gone, Luke departed from the station on the train to the afterlife. He didn’t wait for Aemond to follow or spared a glance for those who were still alive, ready to serve him up like a pig for slaughter.

As the train carried Lucerys onward, he held Aemond's Slytherin cloth pin, passing through the tapestry of his memories. His soul pounded against his ribcage, pleading to be released, seeking his heart, yearning for its holder.

He understood the bittersweet truth—there was no "everafter" for Aemond. there was nothing real in his story except himself, alongside the companionship of his missing heart. For his love, his lover, their world, & all the creations their love spawned held nothing of reality.

[spunkyyyyyy]

Lucemond modern AU (they are rich and very famous family)

Someone created a rumor about Viserys II and Aegon III being the love child of Lucerys and Aemond. The media went crazy, and everyone is following the Targaryen and Velaryon wherever they go.

It all started when they saw Lucerys Velaryon carrying a stroller and a child was holding onto the hem of his shirt. Lucerys don't care about this rumor but his boyfriend, Aemond seems to be enjoying it. Adding more fuel to the fire about the rumor.

on one occasion, they saw Aemond carrying young Aegon on his waist. Aemond knows that they will be media following them the whole day, so he teaches Aegon to call him papa in front of the camera 😭🤚 before they leave, someone recorded Aegon calling Aemond papa, and the news

went crazy. All the things happening outside is a wildfire and a mess. No Targaryen nor Velaryon deny the news, but no one confirms it either. Daemon and Rhaenyra were all laughing about it, teasing Luke as the new parent of Aegon and Viserys.

Laenor and Harwin are now sharing "fatherly tips" with Aemond, sharing where he should enroll Viserys and Aegon in the best kindergarten school 😆 They keep on adding fire to the rumor just to laugh and to create chaos for the paparazzi 🤚😭

Rhaena would secretly take a picture of Aemond and Lucerys carrying Aegon and Viserys and he would post it on his IG post with the caption "aww 🥺🥺" AND SHE WOULD DELETE IT AFTER 5 MINUTES. Rhaena would immediately release a statement, saying she did not mean to post it on her public account, and of course, reports went crazy again cause "what did she mean by public account? do they have an unknown family private account? we need to know now!"

Baela wants to have fun too! Baela took a photo of baby Aegon and Lucerys where Aegon was napping on Lucerys' shoulders, and Lucerys was reading a book about "What to Expect when you are Expecting" The photo gained millions of likes and reactions within an hour.

Lucerys and Baela both high-five each other, proud of their little prank. Soon, Viserys (the older) and Alicent played along, saying "oh we have another grandchild coming?" and they all laughed 😭😭

the next day, the Targaryen family was all over the media with headlines "A new Targaryen baby on the way?!" "Heads up! New Targaryen Baby is on the way to steal our hearts!" and Paparazzi all waiting for Aemond to step out of his office, to catch a glimpse of him. Aemond did a little thing which he said to the paparazzi. "How about this, I let you guys know the name of the baby... if you promised not to harass my family any longer?" Oh boy, it worked like magic.

media dropped following them and taking pictures. Targaryen - Velaryon wonders why, but when Aemond shared what he did, they all end up laughing 😭🥺🤚