Chapter Text
"Lucerys," Lucerys keeps staring into his plate with the expression as if something withered and died on it. "I believe I owe you an apology."
That makes him look up.
"An apology?" he tries to stop his voice from rising and knows he fails when Aemond's eyebrow climbs up in unspoken inquiry. "What for?"
His husband coughs.
"For my unseemly behavior yesterday as we shared the meal," is it his imagination or Aemond actually avoids meeting his gaze?
"What unseemly behavior you talk about?" he quips. "You leaving me spread on the table to collect myself?"
"No," his husband snaps. "Me sprawling you on said table to begin with," his voice quivers. "It was...unfair of me."
"Unfair?" Luke feels like screaming. "Aemond, did I seem to mind?"
They lock gazes, Aemond finally keeping his eye on him for long enough to meet his own, and something in his expression hints to Aemond what he's angry.
"I've already said my apologies-"
"I've poisoned you," that cuts this bullsh*t off. Aemond whips to pin him with the stare, none of previous hesitancy left.
"I beg your pardon?"
"The way you acted yesterday," he frets with his sleeves. "It's because I added something to your wine; a potion intent on making you...unbound."
"Unbound?"
"To," he stumbles over his words. "To let you be at ease with yourself, express your desires without anything standing in the way," he meet Aemond's horrified expression and ducks his head. "Unless...unless the person providing me with the brew lied and it was just a love potion, something to itch at your loins so you'd be overwhelmed with need to-" his voice wavers. "Copulate, and I simply-"
"No," his husband coughs and looks away, and Luke thinks he sees the hint of pink on his cheeks. "No, it is as you've described, I had no restraint yesterday, not for my thoughts, not for my actions, I run wild as some animal of instinct and for that-" he pauses. "Wait, you wanted me to act like that?"
Now it's his turn to blush, and blush he does. He feels heat rise up his cheeks and settle there, uncomfortable and embarrassing.
"I-" he coughs. "Yes?"
"...Why?"
"Because I wanted you to f*ck me like you mean it, Aemond, is it so hard to grasp?" Aemond's eye widens. "I wanted to feel the depth of your need for me, and yesterday I did. Too bad you run off soon after."
"...I think your brew evaporated at this point," Aemond studies him like some kind of a foreign creature he has never encountered before. "...You liked it."
Lucerys blushes even more.
"Couldn't you tell?"
"Luke," his family nickname yaps at him like a whip. "I pressed you into the table, spanked you like unruly child, called you names and then f*cked into you-" Aemond pauses, collecting his thoughts. "The point is I did not act like a man should to his husband. I acted like one does with whor*s."
"Well," Luke licks at his lips and sends his husband a low smile. "I liked it. All the way to the point where you left me, naked and alone. That was awful."
"I apologize."
"Eh," he waves it off. "Aegon walked me to my rooms," he sees Aemond's expression sharpen.
"...Aegon."
"Yes," he smiles the sweetest of his smiles. "He, unlike someone I know, was brave enough to finish that you've started."
"Did he-"
"Touch me? Yes," his smile only widens. "He's currently resting in my chambers. Since you've decided they're not up to your taste-"
Aemond hits the table with such force not only utensils, but dishes come scattering away.
"Why do you insist on shaming me with you single breath?"
"For the same reason I have to poison you for you to care," he bits back, rising as well. Aemond stalks closer, grabbing him by the neck, and Luke almost cries at the forced proximity, from having his awful husband so close, almost close to touch.
"Shameless thing," Aemond seethes. "Do you think you can run wild here, away from the court's praying eyes? Do you think I will let you continue this debauchery?"
"Do you think you can stop me?" Luke bites back and tries to even his breathing. His pulse quickens and his palms sweat, and his neck, grabbed firmly and craned uncomfortably so, aches, as his heart does, and Aemond's lips are so close they're almost touching, which would be the first time since the wedding-
"To my room," Aemond commands and Lucerys shivers. "Tonight. I think it's time you gave me an heir."
"And how could you tell-"
"I will know if it's mine," Aemond looks mad now, and a little bit delusional, because Lucerys is pretty sure no one can tell. "I will know, and if it's Aegon's, I will kill it," another shiver passes through his body, of a different kind.
"And if you'll be wrong?"
"I won't," and with that Aemond drops his hold. "Tonight, my chambers. Do not keep me waiting."
Lucerys spends the remainder of the day walking through the mist, as if drowning in a dream and unable to wake up.
"So you're going to come?" Aegon asks, staring into the depths of his goblet as if all secrets of the world are hidden here.
He's sprawled on Luke's bed with book in hands; for a moment Luke is almost surprised his most reckless of uncles finally took up to his studies, but that is just until he sees the drawings in the books, showing different positions men and women, women and women and men and men can copulate in. Luke blushes and avoids the pages, turning the other way and smoothing his collar.
Behind him Aegon turns the page and giggles.
"We need to try this," he nudges Luke with elbow. "Eh, nephew? An interesting position," he pushes the book towards Lucerys. "Look."
"I don't want to."
"Oh, come on, just a glance, I promise-"
"Aegon, I said I don't want to look at your lewd drawings, leave me-" he gasps as Aegon yanks him by the naked ankle, dragging closer, and for a moment they just fumble in bed, spitting and struggling to overpower one another. For a mindless drunk his uncle is unexpectedly strong, and Luke feels himself falling until he remembers one interesting detail and reaches out to tickle under Aegons' arm.
The older prince makes a sound better fit for pigs, somewhere between squeal and yelp, and falls away, panting and cursing. Luke reaches after, threatening to follow up with the torture, and Aegon crawls away, trying to hide in the covers.
"Begone, fiend," he swats a pillow at his nephew. "Cursed be the day when I revealed such a weakness to you."
"You didn't," Luke reminds him. "I discovered it on my own, by accident."
"And foul be your soul," Aegon insists in the most dramatic voice he can muster. "To wield this awful power over poor, innocent little me."
Lucerys gives him a hard stare.
"Ha-ha," he comments drily. "I almost believed you, and would actually succumb to your lies, if not for the last part."
Aegon huffs and breathes off a strand fallen on his face.
"You're no fun," he complains and turns to lay on his elbow. "So. Tell me, are you actually planning to make my brother a man?"
"He is a man," Luke evades. "He has become a man the day we got wed. The night, actually, but-"
"Oh, that doesn't count," Aegon nudges him with his toes, wiggling them suggestively. How Aegon manages to wiggle toes suggestively is a mystery few can unfold. "So. You. Aemond. His bedroom," his brows crease. "Really?"
"Yes, uncle," he pushes himself off the bed and tries to fix everything they've messed up by fighting on the bed. He still looks like he was in a fight with a wardrobe and lost.
Aegon crawls out of the bed and stands behind him, eyes locking in a vanity mirror. He winks at Luke and then reaches, re-buttoning his doublet.
"You missed one," he whispers into Lucerys' ear, hot and enticing. The glutton. "So...What has gotten into Aemond? It's not your usual time, so I'm guessing it's an emergency meeting. Has he finally decided to put a babe in you?" a painful squeeze of Luke's thigh. "Tough luck, since you're drinking this brew...what's the name?"
"Moontea, buffon."
"Yes, this," Aegon lays a head on his nephew's shoulder. "He's grasping for strands, isn't he?" his eyes are surprisingly serious and sober.
Luke feels his skin grow too tight and his heart - too small, insignificant little thing trashing in his chest wildly.
He swallows down his own spit.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean," another squeeze. "We all know if there's ever a babe in you," a hand over Luke's flat stomach. "It will come from be. And anyway, you told me you don't care for them kids," another strange look. "Don't you?"
"It's not what I don't care for them," Luke brushes his hands off and walks away from the mirror. "It's just I don't think this marriage, this relationship, whatever it is, is a healthy environment to bring a child into. It will be miserable," he shrugs. "As miserable as I am."
"And you are? Miserable, I mean."
"Do I look entirely too happy to you?" Luke wipes at his face. "None of it would've happened if you just kept your tendencies in check and did not bruise me blue for my prude husband to see."
"None of it would've happened if father hadn't wed you to a man whose eye you carved out to begin with," Aegon parries. "And hey, if you're so unhappy, I'm pretty sure father would annul this union-"
"And to what prospects?" Luke huffs and tilts his shoulder, as if trying to work out the sore muscle. His heart is his sore muscle, clearly. "Who would wed me, debauched and titles? I asked for what I thought we needed, all of us. A castle, a land. I didn't expect grandsire would send us to Harrenhal of all places. Really, it seems like a cruel jest, and if it was anyone but grandsire, then I'd believe it. But he seemed...genuine."
"He covered up for you," Aegon shrugs. "As he always did for Rhaenyra, as he will always do. This is why I wasn't concerned with Aemond finding out. You're father's favorite, as all of my half-sisters brood. Father would jump out of his skin to cover your sin," he walks closer and grabs for Luke's chin, rising it up a little. It feels like a lover's touch as much as a clutch of a jailer, and for a moment Luke sees something in Aegon's gaze he never saw before.
Jealousy.
"He would turn the other way and profess you innocent. Poor sweet Luke," he coos. "So sweet, so innocent, married to this beast-"
"Aegon!"
"What?" his uncle snaps. "I've been Aegon for more than two decades now, do you think I haven't grown tired of the sound of my own name?"
"What is your issue with this, truly?"
"Well," his uncle turns away slightly. "Maybe I don't think you should come. To Aemond, I mean. Maybe I think he doesn't deserve to have you."
Luke gasps, at the loss of words.
"Uncle, it's my husband we're speaking. His word is the law I should abide-"
"Why should you? You have me, what do you need him for? Fine, I don't care for the ruling and controlling lands, but f*cking I can manage-"
"Aegon, he's my husband and he commanded me, it's not like I can simply not show."
"Can't or won't?" Aegon's hold on his chin is hard and painful and his gaze is raw and bleeding all over with some emotion Luke knows no words for. "Just say you want to run to him at the first call! Just say that's all you've ever wanted, to be his little co*ck-warmer-"
"I will not going to listen to you talk to me this way. You're a guest in my house, a guest of my husband and I, and you will show respect-"
Aegon laughs, an ugly and obscene sound.
"Respect?" he guffaws. "Respect?! I saw you in the way Maiden would weep at the sight of, I've put you in the poses Crone knows not of, what respect are you talking about, you cheap whor*-"
A slap echoes through the room and for a moment there's no a sound but he ragged heaves of Aegon's breath and the ringing in Luke's ears.
He stares at his own hand, raised, in horror, as Aegon lets out another dark chuckle.
"Oh, you all are the same," he spits. "Self-righteous whor*s who know how to spread legs but don't have it in them to admit to themselves their own nature. You're all bloody same," he puts a hand to his reddened cheek. "Excuse me, your lordship. I fear I'm expected elsewhere."
And with that he leaves.
Luke slowly lowers himself to his knees and sits there, hugging himself, weeping as quietly as he can.
In the evening he washes in the rose water, dresses in his finest nightclothes, puts a shawl over his shoulders and, with a candle in hand, descends half the stairs down, to the solar where his husband awaits.
He forbids himself thinking for anything else but this.
