#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.

[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.

[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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[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.

[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.

[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 😭🥺🤚

[francesminos-tt]

Velaryon brothers dragon au

Lucemond, jacegon and joffron

A complied version of my thread fic!

Dragons had been extinct in Westeros for over a century. The seven kingdoms united under Aegon the last dragon and his two queen consorts, one of whom was a dragon to fight the Night King. All dragons died in the battle. The Seven Kingdoms remained independent but they swore their loyalty to the Targaryen Dynasty. The Targaryen King was called High King. The current High King of the seven kingdoms was Aemond Targaryen, who ascended to the throne after his older brother Aegon went missing during a voyage to their ancient home, Old Valyria.

King Aemond’s agents informed him that there were suspicious activities in the ruins of Driftmark, a remote island that was once the home of the Velaryon dragon flight.

“There is a boy who calls himself the Blue Prince, your grace.” The chief agent reported. “He declares himself a dragon, a descendant of the Dragon Queen Visenya. He has a small army of cutthroats who are fiercely loyal to him. Blue Talons, they are called.”

“Sounds like another clown who tries to take advantage of our weakness during conflict.” Aemond said. There was constant conflict in Westeros, different kingdoms fighting each other trying to get more lands and privileges. Now, the Reach was fighting the Iron Island.

“It probably is, your grace. Although,” The agent paused before continuing, “the boy speaks of Valyrian magic. He requests an audience with you.”

“I have no time nor interest listening to a self-entitled maniac.” Aemond was ready to dismiss the agent when a third voice chimed in.

“Well, well, no need to be so defensive, my king.” A boy walked out of the shadow in the small council room. He couldn’t be more than four and ten, truly a boy, in a very extravagant outfit with intricate embroidery of dragon scales on his shoulders, pearls adorning his neckline, and a sash across his chest like royalty. He had soft curls and a pair of hazel eyes with slit pupils. His nails are long, almost talon-like, in a light blue color. He didn’t have to introduce himself. He must be the Blue Prince.

“How did you go pass all the guards?” Aemond demanded, his hand resting on the legendary sword, Blackfyre.

“I have my ways.” The Blue Prince shrugged, looking bored. “Your guards are rather incompetent. Maybe I can have some of my Blue Talons stationed in your keep. You could use more capable guards.”

“Seize him!” The agent called. Several knights rushed in to surround the boy, but he neutralized them with a single flick of his hand. All the knights fell to their knees, their eyes clouded with mist as if they were enchanted.

“I am Lucerys Velaryon, the Blue Prince, last of the Velaryon dragon flight. I request an audience with Aemond Targaryen, High King of the seven kingdoms.” The boy said in the most regal manner Aemond had ever seen.

“I have information that suggests there are more of my kin who might still be alive. I am here to help restore the glory of Targaryen Dynasty, if you will let me, my king.”

Aemond stared in awe at those slit pupils that promised danger and destruction, but also glory.

No one trusted the newcomer to the court. The Blue Prince, as he called himself, was a pretentious man, curious, cocky, with no respect for nobility. The ladies liked him for a quick flirt, the lords were wary of his rude questions, but the traitors feared him. The Blue Prince’s army of cutthroats had found and executed more traitors than High King Aemond did when he first ascended the throne.

King Aemond was known to be cruel that he killed his own mentor when the man adamantly insisted Aemond’s older brother Aegon was still alive.

King Aemond was the only one who was glad of Prince Lucerys’s company.

“He’s no dragon,” A lord from the Stormlands whispered, “He’s a siren who has enchanted the king.”

“Careful, my lord. The walls have ears.”

“The king is dealing with the devil. We must eliminate this threat-”

The lord never finished his sentence because a shadow launched on him from above, a small whelp torn his face into shreds before breathed dragon flame on it.

“Let me remind you, good lords, I am indeed a dragon, though not fully grown.”

Lucerys licked the blood from his talons after changing into human form. A group of assassins seized the remaining lords per their master’s order.

“If you will excuse me, I have important matters to discuss with the king.”

Later, in the king’s private study, a pearlescent whelp was purring on the king’s lap. Aemond scratched behind a blue scale behind the whelp’s ear, making him puff out a small trace of smoke.

“They say having me as your adviser is dealing with the devil.” Lucerys said, chewing on a piece of raw meat.

“More like dealing with a spoiled child.” Aemond relied, his quill never left the parchment.

“I am no child. I am twice your age.”

“You are literally the size of my palm.”

Aemond signed his name before putting away the letter he had been writing. He turned his gaze to Lucerys, running his calloused palm down the whelp’s tail. Lucerys huffed and shifted on Aemond’s lap, now his blue belly was exposed for Aemond to caress. The little dragon was so warm that Aemond feared his skin might burn if he continued to touch Lucerys, but Aemond paid it no mind. One should expect to burn when dealing with a dragon.

 “There was only one bed.” Lucerys observed, circling the small but well decorated tent.

“And I am only one person.” Aemond replied as he shed the last piece of armor.

“It’s not fit for a king.” Little dragon prince huffed and sat down on the bed, which was incredibly soft considering they were on a trip around the realm.

“As far as I know, you have your own accommodation, blue prince.” Aemond said teasingly, standing in front of Lucerys to let the little dragon resting his talons on Aemond’s undershirt.

“I must make sure my king is well accommodated and safe.” Lucerys used his sharp talon to slice open Aemond’s shirt, careful not to slice open the king’s skin as well.

“What if they smuggle an assassin in? Or a whore?”

“Then I shall have the lord of this land answer to my rage.” Aemond pushed on Lucerys’s chest, making the slender figure drop onto the sheets. The king wasted no time to climb onto his most trusted advisor and lover.

“I can burn them down.” Lucerys said between shower of kisses, “Shall I burn them down for you, my king?”

“Not so fast, my prince.” Aemond was always fascinated by Lucerys’s skin. How could Lucerys have such soft skin while his dragon was covered in sharp and rough scales?

“Seems like my king’s mind is elsewhere tonight.” Lucerys smiled as he wrapped his legs around Aemond’s waist.

“I can’t focus on anything when you are spread out in the bed like a feast for me to devour.”

“I must take responsibility and tend to my king’s needs then.”

Lucerys’s words were lost between their lips. He purred when Aemond scratched behind his ears.

“We will have enough room to rest,” Aemond whispered in his ear, “you can change to your whelp form after I am done with you.”

“These are not the words you should say to a cherished lover.”  Lucerys tired to protest but Aemond’s lips on his inner thigh made him dizzy, all witty retorts forgotten.

Aemond only laughed. It seemed the legend was true. Targaryen kings are dragons on their own.

  Aegon looked in horror at the piece of raw meat thrown at his feet. The meat was still dripping blood, a salvage odor making Aegon, a well pampered prince, gag.

“What‘s wrong?” The massive dragon who gave Aegon the meat asked him.

“Jacaerys, Jace, my dragon friend and savior.” Aegon said in singsong voice. He was using his best pleading eyes. “Is there any chance I can have cooked meat, please?”

The dragon Jacaerys tilted his horned head, confusion in his golden slit eyes.

“You humans are very demanding.” Jacaerys said. His tone was neutral; it was more like an observation than a reprimand.

“We humans aren’t fit to eat raw meat.” Aegon gestured to the dead lamb in front of Jacaerys. “Unlike you divine creatures.”

“Fine.” Jacaerys opened his massive jaw and breathed a trial of dragon fire at the meat. The meat was burned to char almost immediately. “There. Satisfied?”

Aegon scratched the back of his head. He glanced at Jacaerys, the dragon looking rather pleased with himself, like he had just indulged a small child. His greenish scales looked almost brown under the shade of the Valyrian ruins.

“We will have to talk about human customs more, my friend.” Aegon said, “If you are to fly me back to Westeros and claim my birth right.”

Jacaerys nodded, a golden ring in his curled horn crinkling in the wind.

  “What’s this job again?” Joffrey asked as he moving silently through the dark woods with his companion.

“Investigate the murders.” Daeron sighed, lack of sleep wearing his patience thin. “Seriously, you have asked at least 10 times since we hit the road. Are you drunk or something?”

“You were with me at the tavern. You know I am not drunk.” Joffrey moved aside to avoid a thick thunk in the path. He gave Daeron a devilish smile. “Or are you too embarrassed to notice my doings, Citadel boy?”

“I am a well accomplished knight from the royal family. You should show respect.” Daeron rolled his eyes. The looming tower of Harrenhal could be seen in the morning fog.

“A well accomplished knight doesn’t do dirty jobs with a cutthroat.” Joffrey shrugged. “Why is the Citadel so interested in the murders in Harrenhal anyway?”

“There is some report about sighting of a dragon. The Citadel wants to make sure it’s not true.”

“How can they be so sure there is no dragon?” Joffrey stopped at the path leading to the main tower of Harrenhal.

“Dragons are extinct after Aegon’s time.” Daeron turned to look at Joffrey, a cutthroat known for his stealth and cruelty. “It’s common knowledge, even for assassins like you.”

“Are they?” Joffrey’s voice came from behind Daeron.

Daeron felt hairs on the back of neck stand. When did Joffrey circle behind him? What was the sharp talon pressing at his neck?

“You really should have done more research, Citadel boy.”

  Jacaerys’s human form was the most handsome man Aegon had ever seen. When Aegon told Jacaerys so, the dragon just laughed and thanked Aegon’s compliment. Jace thought Aegon was merely being polite, but in all honesty, Aegon was telling the truth.

Jacaerys finished another cup of wine, the fifth one in the last hour. They were at a lavish tavern in Volantis, a place even Aegon, the prince of King’s Landing, hadn’t had the opportunity to set foot in. Jacaerys gave the owner a few intricate gold coins from the his hoard, and the owner promised them free flow of the most precious wine in the house.

“Is the wine not to your liking, my friend?” Jacaerys tilted his head, a shining golden earring dangling from his left earlobe. Jacaerys didn’t look exotic; on the contrary, his human form was an average build young man with brown curls brushing against the base of his neck. His eyes were a greenish brown with slit pupils, same as his dragon form, the most attractive part of his face in Aegon’s opinion.

“I never thought one day I would be getting this question.” Aegon joked halfheartedly, nursing his own wine. “Most people think that I will get drunk by horse piss.”

“Is this supposed to be a joke?” Jacaerys asked, despite consuming alcohol at a far more faster pace than Aegon, he didn’t seem to be buzzed at all. “Forgive me, I am not familiar with human customs. I have never met any human except you.”

The confused look on Jacaerys’s face made Aegon chuckle. It was nice to have someone not regard him as a useless drunk for a change. What’s more, he just learned he was the first human to befriend Jacaerys. Even if Aegon didn’t want to stop at friends, it warmed his heart to know he was somehow special to Jace, just as Jace was special to him.

“So you had never saved another dumb human who almost drowned himself after crashing at the shore of old Valyria?” Aegon asked, leaning in to Jacaerys.

“Humans avoid the Valyrian ruins. Not all humans are as brave as you.” Jacaerys said sincerely. “That’s why I agreed to accompany you back.”

Aegon’s heart swelled at the words. He was always viewed as a failure, an incompetent drunk who wasn’t fit to rule. His brother Aemond was more popular with the nobles. Aegon went on a reckless trip to explore the ancient seat of Targaryen dynasty, hoping to find some legacy to prove his worth. Aegon didn’t expect to find a full-grown dragon, not to mention said dragon was kind enough to save him from drowning. Jacaerys looked so kind, generous, and handsome that Aegon couldn’t help but kiss him on the lips. If Jacaerys asked, Aegon would tell the dragon that this was a human custom to show gratitude.

  “Do you have any brothers?” Aemond asked as he snatched the parchment Lucerys seemed so fascinated to read. It was a family tree of the Targaryen kings.

“Huh?” Lucerys pouted slightly but let the king take away the parchment without a fight.

“Brothers, or sisters? Since you seem to be so interested in studying my family tree, I wonder if you know yours.” Aemond lifted Lucerys and sat the dragon prince on his lap.

“You mean clutchmates, my king?” Lucerys reached out to take the eye patch off, revealing the striking sapphire underneath.

“I didn’t know that’s how dragons call their siblings.” Aemond took the soft hand stroking his scar and brought it to his mouth to plant small kisses on the knuckles.

“I told you, I am the only dragon left, last of my kind.” Lucerys said, “Although the witch who helped me hatch told me that my egg was the last clutch from the dragon queen Visenya. There were supposed to be three of us, but one of the eggs was lost in the conqueror’s war; another cracked and died.”

Aemond was lost for words. He wasn’t particularly close to his own siblings but at least his siblings were all alive. Well, except for Aegon, who was lost at sea trying to sail for old Valyria, but Aemond hated Aegon to an extent that he stopped regarding Aegon as his brother a long time ago.

“My condolences, sweet Lucerys.” Aemond called the spoiled dragon prince nick names to cheer him up. He knew Lucerys liked to be called all kinds of silly names, including when they were consummating their sacred union.

“Don’t be, my king.” Lucerys smiled, sharp teeth visible between his lips. “Your reign is strengthened by my support as the last dragon. You don’t want too many dragons flying around the realm, do you? That will make my unique place beside you lose its privilege.”

“There can be a thousand dragons out there but you will always be the unique one. My dragon consort.” Aemond pressed their lips together as he sneaked a hand into Lucerys’s loose shirt.

Lucerys all but purred. A pair of small ruby studs adorned his ears.

  Joffrey was losing patience. He was taught never to lose patience but a certain annoying knight made him want to forgo all his learning and let his dragon instinct take control.

“You can’t just kill a lord.” Daeron insisted, placing himself between Joffrey’s sharp talon and a frighten lord.

“Why can’t I?” Joffrey gritted his teeth. “Do you know what he did? He supported blood magic under his roof. He killed innocent pregnant women and used their unborn children to restore the life force of a dragon egg.”

Daeron pursed his lips and said nothing. He didn’t know if Joffrey was telling the truth although a part of him knew the dragon was honest with him. Joffrey was always honest with him.

“The dragon egg is you.” Daeron stated out the obvious. “He was trying to revive you.”

“I was never supposed to hatch. I should remain dead.” Joffrey pushed Daeron aside to drag the lord to his feet and pointed his talon to the lord’s neck. “I was conscious the whole time. I witnessed their monstrosity but wasn’t able to stop them then. Not now. Now they will pay for their crimes.”

Daeron tried to stop Joffrey but he was too late. The talon slashed open the lord’s neck, almost beheaded him. The lord was dead within seconds.

“Get out of my way, Citadel boy.” Joffrey licked off the blood from his talon. “I didn’t kill you last time, but I might kill you now.”

“You won’t. I have indeed done my research and I discovered a pattern. You only kill men who had blood on their hands.” Daeron had no idea if Joffrey would stick up this pattern. He was risking his own life but Daeron didn’t regret it one bit. Maesters at Citadel warned him of lures, of vile creatures who would shatter the resolve of the most honorable man. Daeron didn’t believe he would subject to such allure but he was wrong.

“Don’t get too smart. And stop following me.” Joffrey turned to leave, only to hear the stubborn footsteps following him. He could fly away but he didn’t. Joffrey didn’t know why.

“You know, a monster that man might be, but at least he did one thing right. He brought you to this world .” Daeron was silent for a while before speaking.

“The biggest sin in his life.” Joffrey replied. “Certain things better remain dead. Dragons are one of them. I will make sure to kill every single one of my remaining kin.”

“What about yourself?”

“Maybe I can give the honor to you.”

If Joffrey turned back now, he wound see the determination in Daeron’s eyes. This annoying knight was determined to annoy Joffrey for all eternity.

  “What part of the word run don’t you understand?!” Joffrey hissed exasperatedly, pressing at his shoulder where blood was staining his shirt. There was a barbed arrow head embedded in his flesh minutes ago from an ambush, but Joffrey pulled it out without second thought.

“Shhh, quiet.” Daeron peeked from where they were hiding, inside a hollow formed by tangled roots of an ancient tree. “They haven’t left yet.”

“If they stay any longer, they won't be able to find their way back.” Joffrey wrinkled his nose as he could smell the rot in his own blood; the arrow must be poisoned.

Daeron gave him a confused look, which made Joffrey laugh. This insufferable mortal wouldn’t leave Joffrey side, not knowing he was putting himself in grave danger. It was not that Joffrey would hurt him, not yet anyway, but the enchanted forest rumored to be able to swallow men whole.

“When I told you to run, I actually meant it.” Joffrey sneered, trying to ignore the numb feeling spreading from his shoulder. “This forest is alive. It changes constantly that no man can navigate their way around. But the woods cannot trap me. As a dragon, I can simply fly out. That’s why I told you to run when I was luring our enemies into the woods!”

“You expect me to run after you took an arrow for me?” Daeron ducked his head to avoid a few twigs dangling from above. He squeezed himself in the hollow beside Joffrey. The hiding spot was so cramped that not a single sheet of paper can fit in their tightly pressed body.

“Well, that was the rational choice. A small arrow won't hurt me but it will probably pierce through your weak mortal heart.” Joffrey was trying very hard to stay conscious, the poison starting to cloud his mind and making his whole body go limb.

“You saved my life, Joffrey. Why you have to put it that way like you don’t care about other people?” Daeron sighed as he cranked his neck to listen to any incoming footsteps.

“I don’t care about other people.” Joffrey said, more of a reminder to himself. His eyelids were now heavy like lead, eyes almost rolled back as he pressed his burning cheek on the cool shoulder plate of Daeron’s armor.

“Joffrey?” Daeron felt the dragon’s incredibly hot breath on his neck, burning his skin. It was too hot even for dragon standards. “Are you all right?”

“I will be.” Joffrey swallowed a lump in his throat, “Just, give me a minute.”

Daeron remained absolutely still, supporting Joffrey’s weight as best as he could. The dragon shivered slightly as if he was cold, despite his burning temperature. Joffrey seemed to be in a state of illusion as he mumbled incoherently into Daeron’s neck, thick curls brushing against Daeron’s collar bone. Daeron hesitantly brought his hand up to hover above Joffrey’s waist; the only thing that stopped him from wrapping his arms around Joffrey was the dragon’s threat before they hit the road not to touch him under any circumstances.

But Joffrey was not conscious. He couldn’t have known. Daeron was just comforting his dragon friend. Before Daeron realized what he was doing, he had already wrapped his arms around Joffrey’s waist and was holding the dragon tightly to his chest. There were footsteps outside so Daeron had no choice but to press Joffrey’s face into his neck to muffle any rambling sounds.

Daeron had no idea how much time had passed. It could be minutes, or hours, but Joffrey finally let out a shaky breath and regained his consciousness.

“How are you feeling?” Daeron asked, rubbing a soothing hand along Joffrey’s back, “You seemed to have lost yourself.”

“I had a dream.” Joffrey whispered, the normal harshness in his tone was gone, now he only sounded gentle and tired. “A bad one. People died because of me.”

Daeron waited for a few minutes but Joffrey remained silent, so Daeron understood his dragon friend didn't want to share more. Joffrey was always private about his past, and despite his curiosity, Daeron didn’t probe. All Daeron knew about Joffrey was that the dragon was hatched quite recently, but he was induced to grow faster than he naturally should, which had affected his body, making him hard to maintain his dragon form.

“It was only a dream.” Daeron was about to say something more, but a loud bang from outside interrupted this tender moment. Shouting and screaming could be heard over their mingled breath.

Joffrey cursed under his breath. He pushed at Daeron’s chest plate in an attempt to get up, but the hollow seemed to collapse in on them, making the already small place more cramped and suffocating.

“Get out!” Joffrey kicked Daeron out literally before stumbling out himself, barely avoiding to be crashed by the tree.

Outside, it was chaos. The woods had come to life; the ground caved in, trapping their assassins and the branches wrapped around those grown men, strangling and killing them. The grasses beneath Joffrey and Daeron’s feet crawled up their legs in an attempt to trip them, but with a swift move of his sword, Daeron sliced the vile vegetation in half.

“We need to get out of the woods!” Daeron yelled between swings of his sword.

“Lose your armor.” Joffrey said, using his own sword to fight off all the twigs and grasses.

“What?”

“Lose your damn armor!” Joffrey yelled back, “I can’t carry both you and your stupid heavy armor on my back!”

Daeron barely had any time to process what Joffrey meant before Joffrey changed into his dragon form. In front of Daeron was a black drake with golden lines on his chest and the tip of his wings. The drake was about the size of two large horses, barely able to carry a grown man on its back. The drake, Joffrey, poked Daeron with his snout, golden eyes full of impatience. Daeron set out to work quickly, shedding his armor plates, leaving only a thin shirt and tunic on. He grabbed his sword and mounted on Joffrey’s back. The drake struggled a few times, and with great effort, he finally took off.

 Lucerys had an ominous feeling the moment he woke up that day. First, the other side of the mattress was empty and cold, indicating Aemond had already gotten up. The lack of body heat and his lover made Lucerys grumpy. Second, he couldn’t find his favorite bracelet, a beautiful piece made from carved gold, with a large ruby embedded in the middle. It went perfectly with his ruby stud earrings. Rumor had it that the ruby on the Blue Prince’s bracelet was more precious than the one on the conqueror’s crown. Lucerys himself might or might not have contributed to such rumor.

Aemond was caught up in council meetings today, which, in Lucerys’s opinion, was a complete waste of time. Even his agents were better politicians than Aemond’s councilmen. Lucerys had suggested Aemond to dismiss his useless small council and employ some wise advisors and capable soldiers.

“I can’t rule with schemers and cutthroats.” Aemond replied to Lucerys’s suggestion. The king was a terrifying man but he was no tyrant. He ruled with honor and justice.

“Why not?” Lucerys raised an eyebrow in exaggeration. Aemond just laughed and shifted Lucerys over so the little dragon could sit comfortably on his lap. Lucerys didn’t remember the rest of their conversation because of the intense love-making.

Lucerys was enjoying his tea while examining a tome from Old Valyria when he received a report from one of his most trusted agents. There was a witness report of a dragon flying in the direction of King’s Landing. Lucerys almost tore the tome in his talons to shreds.

There was no way any dragon survived other than him. But, was he sure? Lucerys cursed himself for not bothering to check if there was any trace of his kin. Lucerys was confident to face any threats from mortals, but from his own kin? The Blue Prince was not so sure.

Lucerys met Aemond at the gate of the Red Keep. Apparently, the king was alerted as well.

“Are you sure there is a dragon flying towards here?” Aemond asked Lucerys’s agent, but the man in light leather coat ignored the king, turning to Lucerys for instruction instead.

“Speak.” Lucerys commanded as he stood beside Aemond. “Anything you say to me, you can say to my king.”

“Positive, my prince, your grace.” The man nodded, “It’s small black drake. One of our men reported that it had took flight from the Kingswood.”

“No way. The Kingswood was cursed. Nothing can come out alive.” Aemond said in a stern voice.

“Not if it’s a dragon.” Lucerys pursed his lips. “Westeros magic has no effect on dragons. The Kingswood was not cursed; it was merely enchanted by forest witches.”

“Is it hostile? The drake?” Aemond put a hand on Lucerys’s shoulder to calm his lover.

“No indication of any hostility. But it seemed to be injured on the wing.”

“How large is it?” Lucerys was desperate to know if the drake presented any threat. Lucerys might be a powerful dragon, but he was hatched mere decades ago and was now just a small whelp. He could beat an average drake with his cunning, but he was no match for a full-grown dragon.

“About the size of –” The agent didn’t have the chance to finish his sentence because a shadow appeared at the horizon. It became larger and larger as it came near the Red Keep.

Lucerys squeezed Aemond’s hand, digging his talons into the king’s skin, drawing small beads of blood. One king’s guard was ready to come forward, but Aemond dismissed him with a glare.

The shadow was now close enough to make out what it was. Surprisingly, it was not a dragon. It was a horse, not even a war horse, just a common horse mostly found in farms. There were two men mounting on it, one with short silver hair cradling his companion, a young man with dark curls and ashen skin.

Lucerys let out a sigh of relief but Aemond seemed to be surprised to see them. Lucerys noticed the blonde’s hair was the same shade as Aemond.

“Stop right there, brother.” Aemond raised his voice with all the authority he had. “One step closer, and you will be executed by breaking your exile.”

The horse was pulled to an abrupt stop.

Daeron dismounted, and carefully held Joffrey’s limp body to his chest. Joffrey was still unconscious, which worried Daeron to the core and was the reason why he rushed to King’s Landing on the horse he had stolen from a farm, all honor and knighthood standards forgotten. Joffrey collapsed after exerting himself, and he remained in a deep slumber for the past three days.

“To what do I owe the honor, brother?” Aemond stepped forward as several guards behind him drew their swords, including Lucerys’s agent.

“I come in peace.” Daeron said, although he didn’t the king would believe him. Daeron was Aemond’s younger brother, a third son with no titles and inheritance. Even though Daeron never wanted the throne, there were men trying to rebel in his name. Aemond exiled his little brother after he took the throne.

Aemond didn’t answer. Daeron was surprised to find another figure beside him, a slender young man with a youthful face and a sneer lingering at his lips. Aemond was never one for company, but he seemed to be comfortable around this man.

“Speak your purpose. Don’t keep your king waiting.”

“I merely ask for assistance. My friend is injured and I hope the court maester can cure him.” Daeron casted a quick glance to Joffrey before looking up.

“Why should I grant you such assistance?” Aemond was still not convinced that Daeron came all the way to King’s Landing without any ill intentions.

Before Daeron could speak, Lucerys came forward. His chocolate pupils were slit and had a blue hue to them, intimidating and enchanting at the same time.

“I am afraid we have to receive your brother, my king.” Lucerys said, narrowing his eyes, “I smell dragon from his companion.”

[sleeplessdreamer123]

Fanfic Idea! (Lucemond, Legend of the Seeker AU, were Lucerys was a male confessor)

Alys warned them. She warned her brother, and he, in turn, warned Rhaenyra. Her second son would be a danger to all, a powerful male confessor, a dangerous being from the blood of Old Valyria, a being that should be killed upon child birth. One that could completely control anyone and everyone with a single touch, one who obtains complete and utter loyalty through devotion, and one that could potentially destroy the entirety of Westeros. It is in their nature to bring chaos and destruction, she told them, they could not control their powers, no matter how hard they are trained.

But she couldn't do it. Rhaenyra only needed to look at her son before deciding she would rather kill anyone and everyone rather than to harm her sweet boy. Alys then gave her a second option. For him to wear rada'han, the collar that disrupts any and all possible connection from his magic. The one surviving rada'han was with the Velaryons, treated as their heirloom. No one would suspect. Why would they? People believe the olden magic has all but died in Old Valyria, only dragons being living proof of it's existence. Now, they have another living proof, and to keep him living, he must hide it.

It hurts her so, to watch her sweet boy wear such a thing around his neck, but to keep him safe from prosecution, it must be done. They tell the people of Westeros a made-up story about tradition of the hundredth heir of the Velaryon house, and all was well and good.

Until Lucerys was five, and complained about how sick he was. It was unlike any other sickness, and many of the maesters struggled to name it, even believing it was fake. The idea was quickly disregarded, however, when Lucerys started vomiting. Then came the headaches, and the fevers. It took Lucerys clawing at his neck for Rhaenyra to figure out it was his magic trying and failing to connect to him. Because of this, it decides to disrupt his body.

Alys, Lucerys' personal nursemaid, tried to warn her that the child will pull through, that he will not die, that his magic just needed to get used to being disconnected to him, but when Rhaenyra saw his crying, sick, suffering face, she couldn't allow it to go on. She unlocked the rada'han, and after a few days, he turned well.

She and Alys argued, but eventually, Alys receded, though she warned Rhaenyra that she made has made it worse.

Lucerys detested the rada'han. Every time he wore it, he felt constant pain, yet he was forced to wear it, as the heir of the tides. He can hear the whispers though, that the heirloom rejects him, and that made his uncle Vaemond very happy.

He argued with his mother, the first time because she tried to make him wear it after he had another round of sickness, he screamed that the Velaryon ancestors disapproved of him, that he didn't want to be the heir anymore, that the heirloom is cursing him for being...not Velaryon.

Still, Rhaenyra insisted, and he wore it. Every day, every night. And he begged her, to at least allow him a good night's rest, and she allowed the rada'han to be unlocked every night and returned to his neck every morning, if he sleeps in his own room, to be locked in, and to have no one else, not even Alys, in the room until he wears it himself.

Lucerys cried the first night, grateful to have the thing off of his neck, but tearful for being alone. Was it really horrible for them to see him without the heirloom? Did he really need to suffer in loneliness just because he didn't want to be sick every day?

Then something strange happened. That night, he found a secret passage from his room, and decided to explore it. He accidentally entered his uncle's, Aemond's, room. He was just as shocked and confused as he was, asking him why he was there. Lucerys just shrugged and said he was exploring. He asked if Aemond would like to follow, and Aemond, not wanting to get in trouble if something might happen to his nephew, rolled his eyes and got off his bed. They secret passage led to many places, one being the servants' quarters.

And one of them was still awake, poised to scream. Lucerys quickly grabbed her wrist, and he felt it. Something left his body. That was...strange.

But the servant must have realized who they were, or at least, who he was, for he knelt before him, and said, "Command me, master," which was odd, because his grandfather was his master, but Lucerys was too terrified to worry about that.

He ordered the servant to stay quiet, to sleep and to forget he ever saw them. The servant simply nodded, and left for bed. The two boys were tired by then, and after Aemond made sure he would stay in his chambers, he left for his own bed. They never told anyone else about this, and the servant seemed to have kept his word, for nothing was told to the queen or to the princess.

It became a secret between them, to explore the palace every night, to discover every single secret passage there was to offer, and to follow it to wherever it may lead. Lucerys enjoys these nights, they were the one thing he looked forward to. He could explore the castles, with his uncle, and not have to were that gods be damned heirloom. He also felt surprisingly lighter, less sick, despite wearing the heirloom every morning, so maybe it even helped the Velaryon ancestors accept him somehow. There were times were they got caught, but Lucerys and Aemond quickly discovered that all they had to do was make Lucerys stop them and order their secrecy. It was strange, but it worked.

Meanwhile Rhaenyra learned that the servants were slowly becoming more defensive when it comes to rumors of her sons', specifically Lucerys', bastardy. In fact, there had been reports of fights when someone, be it a servant, a guard, a squire, hells, even a noble, tried to speak ill of him. At first, Rhaenyra felt glad that Lucerys managed to charm the servants so much so that they would defend him with such vigor, but after she witnesses the fight itself, she began to worry. It was less of a servant fighting for his master, and more of a devout worshipper fighting for their god. She began to worry. The fights lessened, but the worship of her boy was even stronger.

They greeted him first and foremost, even when the king was right next to him, they looked at him like he was the maiden reborn, and in one occasion, several servants dropped to their knees and begged for forgiveness, admitting that they were the ones who spread the awful rumors of Lucerys' bastardy, that someone paid them to do it, and even revealed them to be Alicent's personal servants, who were taken and punished, with Alicent being punished by being locked in her chambers.

Rhaenyra was suspicious, but she swallowed her doubts. How could her son even do it? He, who wore the rada'han despite hating it. He, who she always had with her except when he sleeps?

It was when even Alys, the most guarded nursemaid, began suggesting that maybe he should stop wearing the heirloom, that Rhaenyra finally opened her eyes to the truth. Her son, her sweet boy, knowingly or not, confessed most of the people in the palace. He was now in total control of them for the rest of his life.

-----------

I'm reminiscent of the times I could watch series without the looming worry of college submission dates, so here you go.

[in-my-feels-probably]

Hi! Can i ask a request for Aemond, where him and reader have a little daughter and after Lucerys death Daemon sends cheese and blood to kill the baby but in the end they fail, pure comfort/protective Aemond in the end with him being relieved but scared and not wanting to keep his eye off of his daughter

Lucky, Indeed

Request: Hi! Can i ask a request for Aemond, where him and reader have a little daughter and after Lucerys death Daemon sends cheese and blood to kill the baby but in the end they fail, pure comfort/protective Aemond in the end with him being relieved but scared and not wanting to keep his eye off of his daughter

Hi! Sorry it took me a bit to get to this request, thank you for sending it in. I love this idea. I’m team Black, but I love a good angst story, and I love Aemond, so it works out. Honestly, it’s hard to even pick a side, when something as terrible as Blood and Cheese happened. Anyway, that’s beside the point. This is my first Aemond request in a while, so hopefully it isn’t too rusty. I hope you like it, enjoy!

Also, for anyone who wants a full length Aemond fic, I have an Aemond x OC (Aelora Velaryon) that is currently a prologue and six chapters long, about 23K words currently. It’s loosely based off of my fic I wrote for Aemond called Doomsday, which you can find on my masterlist. You also can find the fic that’s in progress there, it’s called We’re Burned For Better. It’s on here, wattpad, and ao3, for anyone who wants to read it on their preferred platform. There’s more info about it on my masterlist if you’re interested!

(Warnings: swearing, blood and cheese, mentions of gore, blood, vague mentions of assault, violence, death, grief, trauma, let me know if i missed anything)

—

After Aegon had been crowned King, Aemond was instructed to give word to the key Lords of the realm, asking that they bend the knee in return for the right price being paid for their fealty. You, being married to Aemond, had to stand by his side as his wife. You couldn’t object, or voice your opinions. 

You had to hold your tongue, while the realm waited to see what the fate of House Targaryen would be. 

That is not to say you entirely approved of the actions the Green’s committed after the death of King Viserys. But it was not your House to meddle in, nor your right to do so. You instead had to wait for your husband’s return, praying that he’d come back with good news. 

When Aemond left on Vhagar to treat with Lord Borros Baratheon, your daughter had just turned two. You were left behind with her, little Saera, who had been named after her predecessor. 

It is said that the former’s first word was “no,” which amused Aemond to no end. She was said to be clever, spirited, and fierce, yet neglected by her parents. The Maester’s recorded that because she was the ninth born child, her siblings came at a higher priority to the King and Queen. 

A feeling Aemond was not unaccustomed to, he himself having been born the second son to King Viserys, who had hoped and prayed for his first boy. By the time Aemond came, the excitement and magic of finally having a son had worn off. 

Knowing all too well what it was like to feel unwanted by your parents, Aemond decreed the day Saera was born that she would never know the feeling. She’d only know love and attentiveness, things you and Aemond were happy enough to give her. Aemond had been worried about becoming a father, that was clear enough to you during your pregnancy. But his worries faded away when he caught his first glimpse of her, his heart swelling at the sight. 

The two had become inseparable since then. 

You often had to come fetch her out of her father’s lap during meetings, scolding him when you’d find the pair of them mucking about in the courtyard, Saera resting atop his shoulders. Where he went, she followed. It was quite a sight to see. The mighty Aemond Targaryen…stone faced and stoic…with a little girl barely out of cloth diapers, teetering behind him as she giggled, following along.

Aemond had never spent more than a few days away from Saera, nor you, since the time you delivered her. Now, he had been charged with a task by his King and the Hand, one of which he had to obey and follow. 

It has been days since he bid you both goodbye, and you anxiously awaited his return.

Knowing Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon, they would never forfeit the crown. Not after the events that led to Aegon being crowned in the first place. They would never bend the knee, especially to a believed to be usurper. 

While Daemon may be quick to anger, however, you knew that Rhaenyra was not. She would act in the interest of the realm, not on her own ambition. It was a shame she had the throne stolen out from under her. 

She’d make for a good Queen. 

For now, you had to wait, and hope, and pray that the rift between the family was somehow mendable. That the war would somehow be over before it started, and no lives would be lost. It was foolish hopes, you knew. 

You understood just how naive you’d been, the day Aemond returned from Storm’s End. 

Vhagar had been spotted in the skies, and Ser Criston had sent word to you, giving you little time to prepare. A handmaiden had just come to take Saera for her bath, leaving you alone to pace back and forth in your chambers. Before long, the door was flung open, and your husband burst in. 

Aemond looked as if he’d seen a ghost, and was certainly as pale as one. 

He reached for you with shaky hands, wide eyed, and you quickly moved to his side. You gripped his hands in yours, making him look you in the eye. 

“What is it? What has happened?”

Aemond looked like he was going to be sick, and he fell to his knees. You looked down at him in shock, quickly dropping to your knees, scrambling to keep him steady. He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, groaning. You hurriedly batted his hands away from his eyes, cradling his face in your palms. 

“Aemond? What has happened, you must tell me.”

He looked at you in despair, shaking his head. 

“Lucerys is dead.”

You gasped, pulling your hands away from his face to steady yourself, lowering yourself all the way to the floor. 

“What?”

“Lucerys Velaryon is dead,” he confirmed, putting a permanent pit in your stomach. “Vhagar killed him.”

You shook your head in disbelief. “That can’t be. Aemond, tell me that this is nothing but a cruel joke.”

“It isn’t, Y/N. I couldn’t stop her. Vhagar went after Arrax, she wouldn’t listen to me. Lucerys is gone.”

You covered your mouth with your hand, willing yourself not to be sick. You shakily stood, clutching your hands to your stomach. “Aemond, I can’t…”

Oh Gods, you thought. Rhaenyra. She was probably mad with grief, the poor girl.

He stood up and held onto your forearms, keeping you still. “It will be alright.”

“It won't!” You countered, fighting the tears welling in your eyes. “Luke is a child. Rhaenyra’s child. Her baby boy is dead, she’ll have our heads for this!”

“She won’t–”

“You can’t promise that! Do you truly think there will be no consequences for the death of one of her children? If it were the other way around, if they were the cause of Saera’s death, or one of Helaena’s children…would we not retaliate? Daemon is by her side, Aemond. He won’t let this go, that I can promise you.”

Aemond brought you into his arms, cradling your head into his chest. “I’ll keep you and Saera safe. That, I can promise you. I’m not going anywhere.”

“We have to tell your mother and Aegon,” you said softly, muffled into his shoulder. 

You wrapped your arms tight around his waist, clinging to your husband. Maybe, you thought, if you shielded your eyes in his chest, he’d be able to shield you from whatever may come that would harm you. 

You felt him nod. 

“We will.”

—

In the days that followed, you walked on eggshells around the Keep. You worried for you and your family, as well as Helaena and her children. You worried for the people of King’s Landing, who were not equipped for a siege. The city was on high alert, preparing for the imminent war. 

You half expected Rhaenyra to come on dragonback herself, burning the city down in a fiery rage that would consume you all.

But she didn’t.

You spent days on edge, waiting for her first attack. The ships that docked were showing up with less and less imports, which meant she was planning to cut off some of your supplies. But that was the only retaliation she sent your way. No consequences for the death of her son were met by her justice. You waited anxiously for the day Rhaenyra would return to collect her debt of the life you now owed her. 

Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months. There was no sign of the Black’s or their army, except for one letter Aegon received from Dragonstone a month after the death of Lucerys. It read,

“Lucerys Velaryon will be avenged. You owe My Queen a debt. I will see to it that it is paid in full. Count your days, and live them well…the next may be your last.” – Daemon Targaryen

When Aegon called you, his family, and the war council to the Throne Room to read it aloud, you had to excuse yourself. You hurried out of the room, barely making it into a side corridor before retching onto the floor. A handmaiden had followed you out, leaving your side before returning momentarily with Aemond hot on her heels. 

“Come, my love,” he said, securing his arm around your waist. “Let’s get you to our chambers, hmm?”

That night, you didn’t let Aemond or Saera out of your sight. The rest of the family did the same, keeping themselves heavily guarded and close together. 

But within the month, nothing had changed. No one had come. More ships arrived in volume to the harbor in the same month, and it seemed as if Rhaenyra had pulled back her fleet from stopping the supply chain. Another month passed, and nothing happened. The city slowly went back to normal, the ports as well.

You weren’t sure how, but you and the family slowly forgot about the events of the previous months. It was always looming in the back of your minds, that was true enough. But it was no longer your main concern, as you all had begun busying yourselves with other tasks. 

It was almost pleasant, spending so much time with Aemond and your daughter every day. The city was still warm, it had yet to succumb to the cold of winter. If you tried hard enough, you could keep yourself from thinking of the real reason why you had been given this time with your family.

But sure enough, your luck ended. 

At the time, you didn’t know who the assassins were. You had come to know in the days that followed. Their aliases were all that was known about the two men, except for their occupations.

Blood was a butcher. He was once a member of the City Watch, but he lost his gold cloak for beating a woman employed by a pleasure house to death while drunk and rageful. Cheese was a ratcatcher, extremely knowledgeable of the hidden tunnels of the Red Keep. They were employed by Mysaria, the White Worm, who was employed by Daemon. 

A promise was a promise, and the Black’s had promised you a death. In the last quarter of the fourth month after Lucerys’s death, Blood and Cheese had come to collect.

It was near dusk, and Aemond was still in a meeting. He had been given more duties upon Aegon’s coronation, and he tended to get caught running late into the evenings with the council. 

It was of no consequence to you. He had spent all day with you and Saera, like he did most days. A few days here and there that he was a little late returning to your chambers in the evening, it was the price you were willing to pay to get him all to yourselves during the day.

You were well occupied as well, bouncing Saera on your hip while walking around your room, trying to tire her out so that she’d sleep through the night.

When she finally calmed, you placed her down in her cradle. She immediately curled up under her covers, making you smile. You walked around the room, closing all the shutters and blowing out all of the candles, before heading to the connecting room to change into your evening clothes.

You undressed and redressed quickly, feeling quite tired yourself. 

When you stepped back into the room, the shutter that you had just closed was open. Confused, you walked over to peer out the window, before reshuttering it again. You figured the wind had blown it open. It was nearing winter, after all.

Still, it chilled the room. 

You decided to inform the guard posted outside your door, who would pass on the information in the morning to someone who could come and fix it. You sighed, walking over to your chamber door and quietly opening it. 

“Ser, if you could–”

The words died on your tongue as you looked down in horror to see your guard crumpled on the floor, his neck snapped.

You opened your mouth to scream, but it was quickly covered by a large hand, one that hastily pulled you back into your room.

“Make a sound and I slit your throat. Don’t test me,” you heard in your ear, making you shakily nod.

You heard the door latch behind you, and felt a blade placed at the base of your throat. A man, seemingly much smaller than the one holding you captive, rushed over to Saera’s cradle, picking her up. 

“No, please–”

“Shut your mouth. Another word before we speak and you’ll face a fate much worse than death. Scream for help, and I promise that your daughter will be dead before anyone can even reach the door.”

Tears sprung in your eyes as you watched the man cradle your daughter, who had yet to wake up. You kept your voices low. 

“I’m Blood,” the man said into your ear, letting you go but keeping the knife pointed at you as he blocked the door. “That’s Cheese.”

“Why are you here?”

Blood smiled, his grin making your stomach turn. “We’re debt collectors. An eye for an eye, a son for a son…or a daughter, in your case. It’s a shame, I can tell she’d turn out to be quite the beauty.”

Cheese nodded, placing Saera back down in her crib. 

“We only want the one, to square things. Unfortunately for you, your husband has been quite naughty. Queen Helaena wasn’t in her chambers with her wee ones…but you were. There’s a price to be paid, and you’ll have to be the one to pay it. We won't hurt you, Milady, not one little hair on your head. Just as long as you cooperate.”

You let out a sob, pleading with them. “Please, just take me! Take me, kill me, do whatever you want, I don’t care. Just let my daughter go.”

“As tempting as that is,” Cheese said, looking you up and down. “We can’t.”

“We have a job to do, Princess. You owe a life,” Blood continued.

You shook your head, crumbling to your knees. “No, please, take me–”

“No can do–”

“Please!” You screamed, sobbing on the floor. 

Blood rushed over to you, pulling you up by your hair. He brought his hand up, backhanding you across the face. You could feel your lip split as his knuckles struck. He placed the blade back on your throat and held you tight to him.

“Another little outburst like that, and I’ll let Cheese here do whatever he wants with you, and then make you kill the girl yourself.”

You closed your eyes tight, bringing your hand to your mouth to stifle another sob. Your heart was aching, and a pit the size of a boulder had settled in your stomach. What would Aemond think? Returning to his chambers only to find his wife in hysterics, and his baby girl, slain in her crib.

“I’ll make it quick, darling, just for you. I’ll even do it in her crib, so she doesn’t have to wake up and see a stranger. She won’t feel a thing,” Cheese said, feigning sympathy.

Suddenly, you remembered. 

“Can I go and say goodbye to her?” You asked, pleading with them to allow you to. “She’s my only child. I’ll never forgive myself if I don’t at least ask.”

Please say yes, you thought. Please say yes.

In all your worrying over the past few months, and Aemond’s continued absence in the evenings, you had come up with your own ways to make yourself feel safe. This included training with Aemond during the day in hand to hand combat, just in case you ever had to defend yourself. It included putting Saera to bed yourself every night, shuttering all the windows, and checking on the guard posted at your door nightly.

It also included strapping a knife in its sheath to the underside of Saera’s crib, out of her reach but easily within your own, if you could get close enough. 

The two men pondered the request for a moment, before finally nodding. 

You felt relief pouring through you, and could have collapsed with elation if it weren’t for the task at hand. You rushed over to her crib, kneeling down over it. She was awake now, peering up at you with big violet eyes. 

You blinked the tears away, softly caressing her cheek. “Go to sleep, my sweet girl. I love you.”

You covered her with her blankets, kneeling further to tuck the sheets in. Blood and Cheese watched as you said your goodbyes, grinning at each other. 

“Alright, that’s enough,” Cheese said, moving to come get you.

It was a split second reaction. Within another step from Cheese, you had unsheathed the knife, gripping it by the hilt. With all your might, you aimed it at Blood, flicked your wrist, and released it from your hand.

The blade soared across the room, burying itself in Blood’s chest. 

He looked down in shock, slowly pulling the blade from his chest, dropping it. It clanged on the floor as it fell, and Blood crumpled to the floor soon after, landing in a pool of his own blood. You stared in shock, but quickly recovered and stood to your feet, blocking the crib from Cheese’s path.

Your daughter would live.

If someone else was going to die tonight, it wouldn't be her. If it was Cheese, that was all the better. But if you went down, you were taking him with you. He would not leave this room alive. You’d fight tooth and nail to the end, doing everything you could to protect your daughter. 

Cheese finally collected himself, turning to you. “You bitch!”

You nearly grinned, wiping the blood that had seeped out from your lip, stepping into a defensive stance. “In the flesh…come and get me.”

Just as Cheese took another step toward you, the door to your chambers swung open, revealing a disheveled and concerned Aemond. It took him a second to realize what was happening. 

When he finally did, the look on his face was murderous. 

“Ser Criston went to get the Kingsguard. If you think they’ll get here in time to save you from your fate, you are sorely mistaken.”

Cheese froze in fear, shakily reaching for his sword. Aemond snarled, unsheathing his daggers, closing the chamber door behind him. 

“I hope it was worth dying for. It looks like my wife gave your friend a quick end. You won’t be so lucky.”

Cheese moved to back up, but you had already snuck to reach the blade that Blood had dropped. You scrambled over on your knees, stabbing it into the back of Cheese’s thigh. He howled in pain, dropping to his knees. 

“Please, My Prince–”

His words were cut off by a gurgling sound bubbling in his throat as Aemond lodged one of his daggers into Cheese’s chest. He used his foot to kick Cheese to the ground, reaching down to push the blade deeper. Cheese writhed in pain, raising his hands in surrender. 

“Please! You don’t have to do this.”

“Neither did you,” you said, scurrying to stand behind Aemond. “But you did it anyway.”

“It seems as if you didn’t do my wife the courtesy of giving her a choice. Or maybe you did. What was it, hmm? Sacrifice my child or die? Seeing as that isn’t much of a choice, I will extend to you the same courtesy. So, which will it be? Bleed out on the floor while I watch you choke on your last breath, or have me put an end to your suffering by slitting your throat? The choice is yours.”

Cheese cried out in anguish, trying to pull himself away. Aemond seethed, using his other dagger to stab through Cheese’s throat, twisting the blade as it went in. You watched as he choked on his own blood, gasping for breath. 

“I choose suffering,” Aemond said, pulling both blades free from Cheese’s body. “A gift to my wife.”

Blood spurted out from both wounds, and Cheese writhed and groaned on the floor in pain until he finally stilled, going limp. His eyes were still open when he died. Sometimes, you forgot just how cruel your husband could be, at least to everyone but you and Saera. Fiercely protective, though, a quality which you were grateful for. 

When it was all over, Aemond dropped his daggers, quickly turning around to face you. 

You threw your arms around his neck, and he pulled your shaking form into his. You gripped him tight, and he gripped you tighter, if that was even possible. He cradled your head to his chest, gently rocking you back and forth. You took deep breaths, fighting to fill your lungs and keep yourself from hyperventilating. A wave of emotion came over you, and you couldn’t help but to burst into tears, tucking your face into Aemond’s neck.

“Ñuha nēdenka riña,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

My brave girl.

He gently pulled you from his frame, gripping your chin and turning your face from side to side. He grimaced at your split lip and the shape of a hand imprinted on your reddened cheek. 

“Does it hurt?” Aemond asked, face cold and hard.

You ever so slightly shook your head, causing his frown to deepen. 

“You’re lying.”

You sighed, pulling your chin from his grip, looking him in the eye. “Would you rather me tell you the truth? Fill you with guilt? It is not your fault, Aemond.”

“Of course it’s my fault! I wasn’t here.” He breathed deeply, taking a moment. “What happened? Do not lie to me, I’ll know if you do.”

Your shoulders slumped and your heart ached as Aemond looked at you, racked with guilt and anger. You walked over and gently lifted Saera out of her crib, handing her to Aemond. He immediately clutched her tightly to him, cradling her on his shoulder. He kissed the top of her head, keeping her close as he listened. 

“I had just put Saera to bed. I went to change, and when I came back, the shutters were open again. I figured they were broken and the wind had blown them open, so I went to tell the guard so that he could relay the information to someone who could fix it in the morning. When I opened the door, he was dead on the floor. Before I could move, they covered my mouth and pulled me into the room. Held us at knifepoint, so I wouldn’t make any noise.”

Aemond’s jaw clenched as he listened, a fury pooling in his chest. Should have killed him slower, he thought.

You continued. “They said their names were Blood and Cheese, and that they’re debt collectors. They said I owed a life, because of what you did…and if I didn’t give up Saera, they’d kill me, or worse.”

Tears gathered in your eyes as you spoke, your voice thick with emotion. Aemond tried not to falter at the sight. He couldn’t help it. Your tears struck him like an arrow through the heart.

“They promised they wouldn’t hurt me if I cooperated, but I angered them. Blood struck me, and made me choose. I remembered I had strapped the knife to Saera’s cradle, so I asked if I could say goodbye to her. They agreed, and I got to the blade. I killed Blood with it, just like you taught me. You came in right after.”

Aemond closed the gap between you, bringing you to his chest. He held you and Saera to him just as Ser Criston returned with a slew of guards. 

“Are you alright, My Lady?”

You could only nod, finding shelter in Aemond’s arms. You could faintly hear him explain to Ser Criston what happened, but you weren’t listening. You could only focus on slowing the beat of your heart, and making sure your daughter was alright. Aemond kept you tightly clutched to him, not letting you out of his sight.

—

In the days that followed, you could hardly leave a room without Aemond being hot on your trail. He had practically become your shadow.

Aegon and your family had been quickly informed of what occurred in your chambers, leaving the council to decide amongst themselves what the next course of action should be. You told them to leave you out of it until they came to a decision. 

You tried your hardest to understand the reasoning behind it. It no doubt had been an act Daemon thought of himself. You couldn’t bring yourself to blame Rhaenyra. She had to have been mad with grief, not truly paying attention to the justice her husband decided was fair.

The attack wasn’t even meant to harm you. Evidently enough, the Black’s blamed Aegon for Lucerys’s death. They wanted to hurt him, not you. It was Blood and Cheese who decided amongst themselves that you and Saera were compensation enough for Luke’s death.

Either way, it showed you and Aemond just how ugly this war could get.

Saera was with you at all times, Aemond not far behind. He kept his duties limited, never leaving you without him or guards for long. You were grateful for it, at first. You feared being alone, paranoid that someone was lurking in the shadows. But your fears eased over time.

Aemond’s didn’t.

He wouldn’t speak of that night, not after you told him all you could remember. Maybe he thought he was protecting you. Doing you a kindness, not wanting to bring up painful memories. But it did you both no good.

You could tell it was eating away at him. He was just too stubborn to do anything about it.

He would never tell you, but he was so anxious ever since that night that he nearly made himself ill every day. He awoke every morning feeling like he would be sick if he didn’t keep you and Saera close. There was a permanent pit in his stomach, one he couldn’t seem to rid himself of. And there was a rage brewing inside, so strong that it scared even him.

It took him a month to finally ease up, and give you a little space. 

He made sure you and Saera were always protected, but he gave you your freedom to have some time to yourself. If you thought Aemond spent too much time with your daughter before, you couldn’t have been more wrong. He spent practically every waking minute with her, determined to be the one to keep her safe. 

Saera loved it, of course. She was her father’s daughter. She loved you, too, but there was no denying she favored Aemond. She adored him more than anyone else in the whole world. He loved her just as much, and even more so.

You didn’t mind. You had enough love for the both of them. 

After a month and a half, you decided enough was enough. You would not be ruled by fear, and you most certainly would not let it control your family.

One evening, you asked your handmaiden if she would take Saera for her bath. Under guard, of course. You were willing to let her out of your sight, but never willing to leave her vulnerable. That was something you thought Aemond would agree on. 

Soon after she left, Aemond entered your chambers, immediately scanning the room. “Where’s Saera?”

“She went for her bath. I sent her with Jeyne. Ser Arryk is on guard with them.”

Aemond looked uneasy, but nodded, setting his things down. You gave him a sad smile, opening your arms. 

“Come sit with me, please.”

He looked close to refusing, but finally relented. He sat at the foot of your bed, removing his boots and belt. You crawled to sit behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist and laying your head in the middle of his back. He stiffened, and then sighed, easing under your touch.

“I want you to talk to me,” you muttered into his shoulder.

Aemond hummed. “About what?”

You pressed yourself closer to him, circling your thumb on his waist. 

“You know what.”

He nodded, keeping his gaze pointed towards his lap. “Alright, then. I’m listening.”

“I know you still feel guilt,” you started, keeping your tone soft. “And you harbor rage, and resentment…I wish you wouldn’t.”

He scoffed, chuckling. “How could I not?”

“Because it’s not your fault.”

Your words were sincere, but he wouldn’t accept them. He couldn’t bring himself to believe you. 

“My wife had to defend herself and my child against two assassins who tried to make her pay for a crime she did not commit, so pray tell, how is it that I am not the one to blame?”

You shook your head, twisting to sit next to him. “Look at me.”

He wouldn’t meet your eyes, and you grabbed his hands in yours, pressing a kiss to his palm. “Ñuha jorrāelagon, jurnegon rȳ nyke. Kostilus, Aemond. Jaelan naejot ūndegon ao.”

My love, look at me. Please, Aemond. I want to see you.

His voice was soft, and when he finally looked up, you could see tears brimming in his eyes. “Nyke ȳdra daor jaelagon ao naejot ūndegon nyke, ñuha jorrāelagon. Daor hae iksan.”

I don’t want you to see me, my dear. Not as I am.

You cupped his face in your palms, your words firm. “I want to see you as you are, no matter how that is. You won’t talk to me, Aemond. It’s been so long. I miss your voice, I miss your laughter. Don’t shut me out. Tell me what’s on your mind, I don’t care if it’s callous.”

He brought his hand up to cover yours, leaning his cheek into your palm. He was quiet a moment before he found the words.

“I thought I lost you. I thought I lost the both of you.”

You sighed, running your thumb across his cheekbone. “Darling…”

“When I returned to our chambers and found the guard murdered, I thought I would open the door and see you slain, as well. You, and Saera. Having paid the price for something that I did.”

“But you didn’t,” you said, quickly shaking your head. “You saved us. When you opened the door…I’ve never felt anything like it. Relief doesn’t even begin to explain it. I knew I was safe, I knew Saera and I would be alright.”

“You’d have been alright and never in danger in the first place if it had not been for my actions.”

“You couldn’t have known, Aemond. It was an accident.”

“Accident or not,” he said, voice cracking. “It almost cost me my girls. If you were hurt, it would have been blood on my hands. It is blood on my hands.”

There was a knock at the door, and your handmaiden entered your chambers, holding Saera. You stood, making your way over to them.

“Here you go, Princess,” she cooed, placing Saera in your arms. She nodded to you, excusing herself before she left. “Ser Arryk is just outside, My Lady. My Prince.”

You thanked her, waiting till the door was shut before you turned back around. Aemond looked ashamed, reluctant to meet your gaze. Saera stirred in your arms, incoherently babbling. 

“Kepa,” she suddenly said, pointing.

Father.

You smiled, bouncing her on your hip. “That’s right, darling. Kepa. Do you want to tell your Father goodnight?”

She eagerly nodded, reaching for Aemond. You chuckled, walking her over to Aemond, placing her in his lap. Saera babbled, clutching his shirt in her little fists. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, and she leaned forward to rest against his chest.

“Clearly, someone’s missed you,” you mused. “She isn’t the only one.”

Aemond looked up at you, his face softening. You took his free hand in yours, interlacing your fingers. 

“She doesn’t fear you, Aemond. She doesn’t fear anything. Not when she has you to protect her, and she knows you will…I know you will. I don’t worry for my or her wellbeing, not when I’m with you. But I do worry for your wellbeing, because you won’t talk to me. I know your feelings plague you. You’re free to share them with me, whenever you like. Good or bad, it doesn’t matter. I’m your wife, and I’m here to listen.”

Aemond couldn’t believe what he was hearing. How can she not blame me, he thought. How did I get so lucky? You pressed a kiss to his shoulder, laying your head against it. He rested his head on top of yours, sighing in relief.

“You’re perfect, aren’t you?” He asked, his voice laced with humor. “The Gods must have made a mistake, gifting you to me. How unfortunate for them.”

“How unfortunate, indeed,” you agreed, settling into his side. “They seem to have misplaced you. Quite lucky, for me. I didn’t even have to earn you.”

“You’ve earned far more than me, darling. Far more. Quite lucky for me, I’d say.”

You hummed, not being able to stop yourself from smiling. From the sound of his voice, Aemond was smiling as well. 

“I’d consider us both lucky, then,” you decided, you and Saera melting into Aemond’s arms. He only hummed.

“Indeed.”

—

A/N - Hi! Sorry this took so long to get out. I went a little overboard, but I just loved this request. I hope you liked it, let me know what you think!