Aemond: *talking to Luke during dinner* you have such a soothing voice. I bet you talk Jace through it.
lucerys: *smirks* I can talk you through it
Aemond: *omfg*
Jace: *embarrassed and blushing*
Aegon: *confused and hurt bc Jace lied to him abt him and Luke*
Daemon: *dies laughing on the other side of the table*
alicent and Rhaenyra: *mortified*
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The son of the royal marriage of princes Jacaerys and Lucerys, Joffrey Targaryen, in his name day with a new friend, Benjicot Blackwood.
Joffrey really likes Ben, he told him to call him that way, he is one year younger than him but he is more tall!
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au where Viserys never shows up to defend Nyra's claim in that episode and Luke loses his place as the future Lord of the Tides, Aemond is happy because he feels that finally he and his bastard nephew are on the same page (two second sons with no titles or anything to their name) only for Nyra decide to engage Luke and Jace to make her sweet boy prince consort. Everyone is confused by the decision, Aemond looks like he's sucking a lemon and Luke is the only one satisfied with the change of plans
luke: i don't want to be lord of driftmark😥🥺😣
also luke, smirking and rubbing his hands together while thinking up all the ways to make jace scream: this i how i can still win
aemond: *throws table* ARE YOU FUCKING JOKING-
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Jacaerys Targaryen
I can’t help but think there’s a connection between Jace being referred to as “Targaryen” rather than Velaryon, and one of Luke’s last interactions with his elder brother was asserting who they were.
Methinks Jacaerys took the family name in honor of Luke…
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“to lucerys.” jacaerys starts, “the last time we saw each other before my leave was in spring, which might not be too long for some, but my heart has missed you greatly.”
lucerys looks up at him with doe, glassy eyes, timidly smiling at jacaerys while his fingers dance over the rim of his cup. lucerys’ stomach hurts from the nerves and the anticipation, for what he can’t tell.
jacaerys is right, some moons have passed since lucerys bade him his farewell by the dragon pit, anxiously watching over jacaerys to make sure he tied tightly his bags to the mount and fastened himself properly to his dragon. jacaerys had hugged him briefly and tightly before flying north, and now the man that is rising his cup to lucerys looks nothing alike the boy he sent off.
jacaerys’ smile is broad, all high cheekbones and cutting jawline where the boyish roundness used to be a year ago. his shoulders are wider, his arms are bigger and he looks handsome, taller, stronger.
lucerys’ throat bobs as he comes to realise this, and promptly feels himself flush upon the fact that he had noticed such a thing in the first place. he wants to drain the wine and drown his thoughts with it, but jacaerys is not finished with his name day toast.
lucerys’ name day celebrations are as ostentatious as they can get. it isn’t a surprise, though, every single soul in the realm knows king viserys would never do less for his favorite child’s favourite child. everything around lucerys feels like a blur of gold and lights and copious plates of piquant food. he knows it must have been his mother, the crown princess rhaenyra targaryen had watched like a hawk over the preparations, and not a single arrangement had been carried out without bearing her scrutiny. daemon’s deadly stare right behind his mother had done nothing but help her case, too.
it has been worth it so far.
“the memories of my youth that i hold the closest to my heart are the ones that i share with you. it’s been an honor to be by your side as a boy, and i hope to continue doing so as we both mature. to prince lucerys,” jacaerys repeats, “the realm’s second delight, the velaryon pearl, the light of his family and the heart of his lēkia.”
lucerys’s apple cheeks redden as the guests toast to him, too. “hear, hear!”
he takes a sip from his drink and makes the mistake of finding aemond’s eye already staring at him.
he almost chokes on his drink, confused and alarmed. it never meant anything good when aemond stared at him like that. it was unsettling, lucerys’ hand was already itching under the coolness of his glass, his heart rabbiting in his chest.
he doesn’t back down, though, because there’s something that he really likes about the way in which aemond looks at him, too. it makes his head feel ditzy sometimes with emotions he doesn’t understand. his mouth tastes like blood and his veins thrum with it, and there’s some beauty in the danger that aemond targaryen supposes that makes lucerys want to whine.
aemond is promising him something with his burning amethyst, and he wants it so much he could sob.
the moment halts to a stop when jacaerys tucks a curl behind lucerys’ ear and leans down to whisper, “you only deserve the best.”
lucerys can’t help himself when he leans towards the hand that is touching him, and barely keeps down a pleased purr when jacaerys cups his cheek lovingly. can jacaerys feel the mighty fire of his blush too?
he looks back at aemond, like it’s a reflex he hasn’t mastered yet, and jumps with what he sees. aemond’s face remains stony, indescribable, but where passion was simmering few moments ago in that lone orb, a newfound rage scorches the spot in lucerys’ face that jacaerys is touching.
the table and cutlery tremble as aemond slams his fist against it and stands up abruptly, waiting for all the guests to turn their attention to him. he raises his cup and snarls, “final tribute.”
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