Chapter Text
As for when his feelings began, Lucerys does not remember when or how.
It's like a seed that was dropped on a plant, then watered and became a seedling. A plant that grows inside of him. He waters it little by little, and nurtures it with care and caution. Until the flower blooms.
A blue flower like sapphire.
The flower so pretty yet so fragile.
"My prince? Prince Lucerys?"
"—Yes, master."
Lucerys then realises he has spaced out during training in the Dragonpit.
Arrax is in front of him, tilting its head with curiosity.
"Umbās...Arrax. Jurnegon rȳ nyke."
Those golden eyes lock on him as Lucerys commanded. The sharp spade at the end of Arrax's tail wiggles, reminding him of a rattlesnake.
"Come to me."
As soon as Lucerys commands, the pearlescent dragon rushes to him.
"Good work, my prince."
Lucerys can hear Aegon and Jacaerys scoff. It's always him who receives praise from dragonkeeper masters the most because of his fluency in High Valyrian. Also, he gains complete obedience from his dragon.
"Good, good, my friend."
"You all have to keep up with Prince Lucerys, my princes. His skill in Valyeian has surpassed everyone."
The master means his brother and uncles. He turns to skew his mouth at Jacaerys before patting Arrax.
" ...se Blakuata Rasho dranot vilinio viartis."
Jacaerys takes a long pause as if he is thinking.
"...And landed at the Blackwater Rush."
"Yes? And?"
"Dranot. Dranot..."
"You know this, Jace."
"Dranot...is?"
"The mouth."
"The mouth! Come on, I knew that."
"Yes, you are supposed to."
"Oh shut up, will you? But please continue."
"Guesi misenakson Aegon undas."
"Aegon ordered that the trees should be...killed!"
"Felled."
"Fuck!"
Lucerys closes the book in front of him, failing to concentrate on reading and teaching Jacaerys High Valyrian.
"How can you be so fluent in High Valyrian when you were born just after me?"
"Practicing, reading...and singing? I guess."
"You and Aemond are too bloody good at Valyrian. No chance for me to catch up."
The name that Jacaerys said makes his heart skips a beat.
"Just keep practicing, I will go to the training field."
"Wait! I need your help, Luke!"
He doesn't wait, just runs out of the library.
Aemond must be practicing now.
Lucerys was right—he sees the long silver hair flying in the air.
So gallant.
He walks in closer, pretends to look at the weapon rack but peeps at his uncleLucerys can now look at Aemond since he is focused on his training. The One-eye Prince swings the sword at Criston Cole and ducks from the attacks. Aemond moves so swiftly that his eyes cannot follow and ends up pointing the blade at Criston's throat—winning again a thousand times.
"Come to practice, nephew?"
Lucerys shudders when Aemond turns to look at him. Pointing the sword at him.
"...Yes. I want to take a break from reading."
"Mind to be my partner?"
"I dare not to do so."
"I won't cut you, boy."
It's like Aemond knows his weakness—and how to make his flower bloom even more.
Lucerys does his part with the sword. Gods know they gave him skills in literature, philosophy and High Valyrian, but not in the art of war. Leave alone Lucerys competing against one of the most skilled swordsmen like Aemond Targaryen, a prince twenty-two years of age who masters all skills. His uncle is even greater in shape and height—Lucerys cannot compare anything to Aemond.
"Seems like you pour all effort into books and High Valyrian, nephew."
As the cold sharpness touches his neck, it seems to burn a bit.
"Not everyone is born to be skilled with a sword, uncle."
"Hmm. Sounds like a word from craven."
He always knew that Aemond was unkind. But is there any reason why Aemond would be kind to a boy who cut out his eye?
There's only one person Aemond is kind to—Helaena.
The older sister of Aemond is fair and sweet. Everyone loves Helaena, even the smallfolk. Helaena has long silver hair and lilac eyes—a true Targaryen. His aunt has always been kind to him ever since he could remember. Mother does not like her half-siblings who are raised by Queen Alicent Hightower, but Helaena is the only one she likes.
Everything about Helaena—Lucerys wishes he could be or could have.
Aemond's affection and kindness.
Dinner continues as usual. He turns to talk to Jacerys as normal and glances at Aemond who sits across from him. Aemond talks to Helaena the most, glances at Aegon with an unpleasant look, and nods to Queen Alicent's words—that's all Aemond does.
Sometimes Aemond glances his way.
The lilac eye looks cunning; like it can read his mind completely. That Lucerys hates himself for being so naive and bashful like a maiden.
Aemond knows—he just knows.
"Was it fun spying on me?"
The dinner ends and everyone returns to their quarters. Somehow Lucerys finds himself in the corridor of Maegor's Holdfast. Also, Aemond, who quietly followed him.
"...uncle."
Lucerys feels his stomach twisted.
"Hmm. What is it?"
"No, I didn't—I..."
"Lying now?"
Aemond traps him against the wall. Those arms keep him from escaping.
"You always do that, don't you know?"
"What do you mean?"
"Looking at me. Blushing like a maiden...don't you think I know what's inside your little foolish head?"
Those words feel like arrows piercing through him.
Aemond lifts his chin up to look directly into Lucerys' eyes. He feels his heart beating so fast it's shameful, Aemond knows everything. The one-eye prince leans in closer and closer—until the tips of our noses touch. Lucerys feels his eyes water from embarrassment but deep inside, there's hope.
Hope for the little flower in his heart to bloom even more.
"Why? Do you fancy me? Dream of me?"
"No."
"Or think of this moment?"
Aemond smirks and leans closer—but he just chuckles.
"You're terrible at lying."
Lucerys feels like he could cry at any moment.
"Pathetic bastard."
Please. Please don't hurt the flower in his heart.
Yet Lucerys always knows how cruel Aemond is, he cannot stop his feelings from growing more and more.
His uncle is right; Lucerys is pathetic. So hopeless in this unrequited love for Aemond.
-
The celebration of King Viserys and Queen Alicent's marriage brings people from all over the Seven Kingdoms to King's Landing.
The crowded audience and the attention make Lucerys nervous. Since he is the second son of the heir to the throne and himself the heir to Driftmark. He is not used to being around women his age other than Baela and Rhaena. Being crowded by young ladies is not enjoyable. Also, Lucerys has to keep his composure more than usual—everything is just uncomfortable.
"There you are."
"Helaena?"
Lucerys wonders how Helaena found him at the back of the Red Keep's granary. His aunt walks to him and squats down next to Lucerys.
"Why are you hiding here?"
"How did you find me?"
"I mean—you are not so skilled at sneaking out or about. Are you well?"
"I...don't think so. I just feel overwhelmed by strangers."
"I see. I feel that, too."
Both of them just become silent. Lucerys plays with the grass in front of him to kill the awkwardness—also his jealousy toward Helaena.
"I—uh—never had the chance to congratulate you yet for being named the heir of Driftmark."
"Thank you, that is very kind of you."
"I think you will have the adventure to look forward to. The sea—something other than King's Landing."
"That's nearly impossible to beat. I will be at Driftmark while my family is here. I don't feel like a true Velaryon. I've never been to the sea or been raised in it. I—"
Don't feel belonged.
"You're still young, my dear nephew. You will have time to learn and to grow."
"I hope I can be wiser when I'm older."
"You are already the sweetest boy I know."
"You call me as mother does."
"Because you are truly a sweet boy."
The slender fingers brush his hair away from his face.
"You are indeed a sweet boy, the nicest boy."
Is it? Is he truly?