#this wound up just being jace and rhaenyra but i hope that's okay

[balmacedapascal]

julie, hii!! idk if you're still accepting prompts but I've had this sudden urge of rhae and the boys in the single dad!harwin verse 🥺🥴✨ so, if you're feeling like it, "pinky promise" between the three of them? 🧡 i just need rhae, jace and luke being the bestestestests of best friends 🥴🥺🧡😭

(I am ALWAYS accepting prompts. Just sometimes I'm slower writing them is all.)

Sitting on the well worn couch in Harwin's living room, it was hard for Rhaenyra to think that it had only been a few weeks that they'd been doing this. It was the third time that week that she'd wound at his house after work, changing into comfy clothes that she'd started keeping in a little gym bag in her car and enjoying a simple meal fish and chips he made for them and the boys. She'd sipped a cider through dinner, listening as Jace told a story about how he finally managed to hang upside down from the monkey bars at recess and leaning over to inspect Luke's first loose tooth that was bound to fall out any day now. She'd slipped up twice, using adult language that had both boys shouting for a dollar to the swear jar kept on the kitchen counter and hiding her own smile as they giggled away at the funds being added. At least ten dollars had been added since she first started coming over as she worked on making herself a bit more kid friendly but Harwin was never upset with her. After all, the jar had been two-thirds full before she'd ever set foot inside.

And now she was sitting comfortably on the middle cushion, Harwin to her right and Jace laying with his head in her lap. The television was playing one of the Marvel movies, although she hadn't been paying much attention. The early morning at her office had left her as sleepy as the boys seemed to be as the night went on but she was happy to enjoy the time with them nevertheless.

It wasn't until Harwin moved to stand up that she realized Luke was fast asleep in his lap, the little boy drooling down the front of his dad's shirt. "I'm gonna put him down, I'll be right back," he mumbled softly, leaning down to press a kiss to her cheek before disappearing down to the boys' bedroom.

Looking down at Jace, she was sure the older boy wouldn't be too far behind his brother, eyes drooping as he watched the action sequences on screen. Her fingers dragged gently through his mess curls, an affectionate touch that she'd quickly learned both father and sons enjoyed and she had found herself doing more often than not. Seeming to sense her eyes on him, Jace shifted on her lap, looking up at her with sleepy eyes.

"You should come over more often, Nyra," he mumbled softly, eyes closing for a moment as he seemed to struggle with the sleep creeping up. Her heart warmed at the words, knowing how important it was that they like her if this was going to continue on in any form. "Dad laughs more when you're here. And we get more ice cream. It's pretty nice."

She couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped at his explanation, thinking back to the sundaes that had been eaten once dinner was finished two nights earlier. "I think it's pretty nice too."

There was a lull, muffled sounds of Harwin most likely telling Luke a quick bedtime story filtering down the hall. She smiled at the sound before glancing back down at Jace. His expression was serious, or as serious as six year old could be. "Promise not to make him sad? He was sad after mom left. We don't want him to be sad anymore."

There hadn't been much talk about his ex-wife since they'd reconnected, just that she'd left him with the boys and hadn't shown her face since the paperwork was finalized. But it was clear Jace had noticed his father's moods and she couldn't help but think back to the things her own father had tried to hide from her after her mother's death, about the way he'd wanted to hide his grief from her. But she'd seen it all the same and it seemed Jace had experienced something similar.

"I promise," she told him softly. "Pinky promise, even. Your dad is a very good man and I don't want to see him sad anymore than you do."

He smiled at that, hooking his pinky through hers before settling back down. As predicted, by the time Harwin had returned from putting Luke to bed, Jace had fallen asleep on her lap and was quietly snoring away. She waved him off as he bent to pick up the boy, taking his hand and telling him to leave the boy be for a bit. She was perfectly happy to keep carding fingers through his hair as he dreamed for a while longer.

[yanderes-galore]

9.) "The wound in your leg serves as a lesson, does it not?"

romantic Jace

34.) "No one else understands me except you!"

Platonic Luke

Reader had known the boys for her whole life. Reader kinda acts like a boy. She has shorter hair maybe shoulder length? And Jace when they were children would claim they were already married and she was like “um nah” and now that they are older Jace is demanding her to marry him saying “you can’t disobey me, I am your future king and you will be my queen” so reader decides to run away but like catches her and says something like “your the only person who understands how I feel” then drags her back while apologizing and tells Jace what happened. So Jace does something to her legs to make her un able to walk and run away.

Sure! I just hope I get characterization right :') This primarily focuses on Jace if that's okay.

Yandere! Romantic Jacaerys + Platonic! Lucerys Prompts 9 + 24

"The wound in your leg serves as a lesson, does it not?" - Jace

"No one else understands me except you!" - Luke

Pairing: Romantic (Jace)/Platonic (Luke)

Possible Trigger Warnings: Female Darling, Obsession, The two manipulate each other, Delusional behavior, Violence, Possessive behavior, Forced betrothal, Medieval sexism/gender roles, Mature themes, Manipulation, OOC Jace, Cutting of Achilles Tendon, Forced relationship/companionship.

When you had met the two princes, you were a young princess yourself. However you were not like most princesses, choosing to sneak around and act like a boy instead. Such a thing wasn't common in the period... but your parents could never seem to stop you.

You used to play with them all the time as children despite the rumors that surrounded their birth. You were about the same age as Jace and Rhaenyra was pleased your parents allowed you to play with them. It was nice to not be judged for once... in return, Rhaenyra never minded your more boyish behavior.

Since you three were young, Jace had been attached to you. His brother, Luke, had seen you as an older sibling or friend. Jace, however, saw you as his future queen as the years went by.

Jace was told he was to sit upon the Iron Throne, while later on Luke was to sit himself on the throne of Driftmark. Neither of them were betrothed, Rhaenyra was still figuring such a thing out. You weren't betrothed either...

Making Jace's heart set on the idea.

"You and I are destined to rule!" Jace would always say to you, a smile on his face as he held your hands. "You have no betrothed, right? We'd be the perfect king and queen...."

Luke had always been one to support his brother. While Jace would ramble on and on about weddings and being the perfect prince for you... Luke would encourage it. You, on the other hand?

You didn't like to think of marriage.

While Jace was always excited about becoming king, ever since you were all young you resented your role of princess. You didn't like being wed off, you didn't like bearing heirs... you wished for a different life. Another role that wasn't playing princess.

Wanting to change roles was a sentiment you shared with Luke. The younger prince also didn't like the idea of ruling Driftmark. This was something that made you see Luke as a brother of your own... you were so similar... even if he kept encouraging his brother.

He encouraged Jace not only because it made the older prince happy... but it also brings you closer to Luke.

While you tried to distance yourself from the idea, Jace was hooked on the idea of courting you. To the point he even brought it up to his mother when he was younger. Rhaenyra was hesitant... but Jace looked so set on marrying you ever since you two were kids.

Such behavior only persisted as you three got older. You had tried to grow into your role, listening to your parents and wearing dresses. However, you never wanted anything big... you'd wear a dress you could move freely in.

Despite trying to look the part, you were still against marriage. You often told your parents about this... but of course they didn't understand. After all, royal families are often concerned with the succession of their bloodline.

You were still close allies with Jace and Luke. You often visited them but... you noticed Jace wasn't as intent on being flirty. He gave you a few thoughtful looks and grins, but now outright courting. Such a thought confused you... after all these years he's given up such fantasies?

It was a welcome change for you...

Until your parents announced that they had spoken to Queen Rhaenyra of Dragonstone... and betrothed you to Prince Jacaerys.

The news devastates you. Sure, Jace and you are childhood friends... but you didn't want to marry him. However... the news certainly explained why he had such a knowing gaze towards you. You're sent into shock and worry about the future.

But eventually... you end up meeting with Prince Jacaerys another day to discuss future relations... much to your dismay.

-🛡-

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this..." Jace whispers, holding your hand softly before kissing the knuckles. "You've managed to get even more beautiful, princess."

You sit with him and Luke in a room as your parents discuss with one another. Jace wears a smiles on his face as he gaze at you. You're his queen... you have been since he met you... he just knows it.

You look away with a frown, pulling your hand away. Jace seems surprised by your reaction and steps closer. Luke notices your hesitancy and pities it... he knows you don't really want this role... but you make his brother happy.

"Princess?" Jace whispers, stepping closer to hold your waist. "Are you nervous...? You know I would do everything in my power to treat you right as king... you're my future queen, after all."

"Jace..." You answer, a sad look in your eye. " You've been at this for years... don't you know I don't like the idea?"

Jace looks at you with a frown, pulling you close despite your squirming. Luke feels torn when he sees your sadness. He cares about both of you... but there was no way to win you both over, was there?

"Are you scared of when we consummate our marriage?" He whispers, making you freeze for a moment. "Or that others will judge us? There's no need... I won't let you be scared." You feel him kiss your cheek... and you push him away.

"I-I'm sorry... I just need to leave for a moment." You admit, stepping back. You go to leave the room, but Jace grips onto your hand.

"My lady..." Jace calls, tone oddly seeming to hide a warning. "Please don't leave... we can make this work!"

"Let go...." You whimper, Jace stepping closer to you as Luke goes to stand up.

"You aren't disobeying your future king, are you?" Jace whispers in your ear. "For my whole life I've wanted you as my queen... mother has given me such a chance. Why do you resist?"

The moment you hear a growl in his tone, you break away from his grasp and exit the room quickly. Jace calls your name but you don't listen as you rush down the halls. You weren't sure where you were running to, you just knew you needed to leave Jace.

Eventually you come across the gardens and find somewhere to sit. Your heart pounds in your chest at the thought of marrying Jace... not in the good way, unfortunately. You're scared of such an event.

You're so lost in the fear that you don't notice the young prince Luke approaching you.

"Princess...?" Luke asks hesitantly, the young boy sitting beside you. "Are you alright?"

"No..." You whisper, the small sound making the prince's heart ache a little. "I never wanted this... I don't want to be a queen...."

Luke frowns, remembering that you both hate the roles your parents gifted you. He didn't want to rule Driftmark. While he has pity for your predicament...

He too wants to keep you close, just like his brother.

"I know..." Luke sighs, eyes looking at you with sympathy. "No one else understands me except you... we're already like siblings..."

You smile softly at the young prince... but notice the darkness in his gaze.

"Which is why I can't wait for you to be my sister-in-law..." Luke smiles, your heart dropping at his words.

"My Lady!" Jace calls, anger in his voice. You freeze, wanting to run, but Luke grabs your arm tightly. You begin to realize Luke betrayed you for his brother...

Allowing Jace to pull you into his grasp tightly. Dragon blood does indeed run deep in the two princes despite their parentage... why else would they be so possessive of you?

"Queens shouldn't run from their kings..." Jace growls softly, nails digging into your skin. Luke begins to reconsider his decisions when he sees Jace slowly reach for his dagger. "Good kings need to teach their wives to listen, don't they?"

You feel yourself gently pushed onto the ground as Jace sits on your legs. You struggle but Jace orders Luke to hold you still. Jace, your king, holds a sadistic darkness in his eyes as he holds your legs.

"I'll make sure you never run from me again..." Jace whispers, kissing your forehead softly. You feel a sharp blade by your heel and try to move... only to be restrained.

"A wound on your leg serves as a lesson, does it not?" Jace grins dangerously as you feel the blade begin to bite your flesh.

"You'll never run from us again... welcome to the family, my beloved." Jace coos as Luke reluctantly covers your mouth.

The two make sure your screams are unable to be heard by your parents as the blade digs into your flesh... just one tendon cut free to hinder your movement...

By the end of it you'll be a bird with clipped wings... forever the spouse of a half-dragon.

[with-blood-and-fire]

Fic: Black and Blue Chapter 1

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Title: Black and Blue

Chapter: 1

Summary:

In a world where the Targaryen's are gifted with a one, true soulmate, Aemond and Luke dream of the day that they too will find their own.

Luke has spent his life with bruises and scars covering his body, though they were never his own. They were always from his soulmate. From a young age, the young prince knew that his soulmate was being abused. So he fights and trains, and he searches endlessly for the one who holds the other half of his soul. Aemond is the obedient son. The dutiful second son. And all he wished for was his families love and care, and to eventually find the one that might heal him. But his journey will be long and hard. And filled with more than a few bumps.

Follow these two through the defining moments of their lives, till they eventually find their way into each other's arms.

Pairing: Aemond/Lucerys

Rating: Will eventually be NC-17, but it's going to take a while to get there.

Warning: Child physical/emotional abuse

Luke age 4: King’s Landing

“Ma! Ma! It’s happening again. Ma!” The tiny prince cries as he runs down the hallway of the Red Keep. He had been playing with Jace in their playroom when he noticed the bruise forming on his wrist. Dropping everything, the curly haired boy ran yelling down the hallway, calling out for his mother.

“Luke? Luke!” Rhaenyra rounds the corner, arms opening just in time for her young son to come barreling into her arms.

The young boy starts babbling and sobbing, incoherent in his distress. Rhaeynra soothes him as best she can, holding him close and running a hand through his curly locks.

“Luke, sweetheart. Can you tell me what’s wrong?” She asks, once his sobs had receded and only quiet sniffles were left.

“It’s happening again, ma! Look!” He holds out his arm and pushes up his sleeve to show her the purpling bruise that had appeared on his skin.

The princess has to breathe through the nausea. This time, the bruise that appeared on her little son’s skin was in the shape of a hand, the bruise totally encompassing his wrist and half of his arm.

“Oh Luke. I am so sorry. Does it hurt?” She always asks, but she knows the answer. Bruises from one’s soulmate never hurt, only showing upon the skin for a few hours before fading away.

“No.” Luke hangs his head and his lip continues to wobble. “Do you think they are okay?”

“Hmmm?”

“My soulmate. This is the second time today….” The young prince trails off as his breathe picks up pace again with his distress.

Rhaenyra holds him close to her again, whispering comforting words to her son. Her heart ached for her son and his soulmate, whoever and wherever they were.

The Targaryen’s were gifted with many things. Dragons, strength and pure blood of an ancient world. But they were also gifted with the ability to have one true soul mate in the world. But with that came the fact that whenever one was hurt or injured, the injury would show up upon their other half. The injuries did not hurt the other half, only showing their visible proof. And they never lasted long. Bruises showed up and faded within hours depending on the severity. As for cuts and other wounds of that sort, they would show up as already healed scars and fade just the same way.

In most situations, this was completely harmless. As people were susceptible to getting injured accidentally all the time. And most of the time the injuries were minuscule and innocent in nature.

But whatever was happening to Luke’s soulmate was anything but innocent. And it made her heart ache heavily. Bruises and scars were showing up on a daily basis. Some small, some large. And some in the shapes of hands and boots. Rhaenyra was no fool. She knew that Luke’s soulmate was being abused. Bruises the shape of fingerprints don’t just accidentally appear. And it tore her heart apart to know they could do nothing about it.

“I know Luke.” She finally responds. “I hope they will be. But you must be strong for them, do you understand?”

Luke nods seriously and wipes away the tears that fell from his eyes.

“I will be strong. I will train hard every day, so that when I meet them, I can protect them.”

“That’s my sweet boy.” She tucks a stray curl out of his face.

“I will be good to them. When the time comes to meet them, I will love them and protect them as if they were you.”

“I am sure of it. My honorable little Luke.”

“Can I start learning how to wield a sword yet?”

Rhaenyra chuckles and shakes her head.

“You are too little still, Luke. On your fifth name day, then I will allow it.”

Luke leans up to press a kiss to her cheek.

“Thank you Ma!” He exclaims before running back down the hallway.

She watches him go fondly, her smile only waning when he rounds the corner. It was hard, being a mother. And though she had two darling boys to love, sometimes she felt that her own love was not enough. How could she protect her little Luke from this fate. How could she find her son’s soulmate, protect them too from their suffering?

It was not fair, she decided, for her boy and his soulmate to endure such atrocities. And while Luke never physically feel the pain, she could only imagine the pain his other half was in. For four years, they had seen each and every bruise and scar appear on his fair skin. It was obvious from the day her son was born, that whomever held his soul was being abused by those around them. It had terrified her, seeing hand shaped bruises upon her baby’s skin.

But what could she do? She was powerless. And unless she ordered every person in the seven kingdoms to strip before her, she would not know who it was. Not until fate brought the two together. And though she was not the most pious follower of the seven, she closed her eyes and said a little prayer to the gods. Asking them to watch over Luke’s soulmate. Asked them to protect the poor thing.

————————————————— Aemond age 7: King’s Landing

“You little fool! Have you lost your mind?” Otto towers over him, eyes glaring down at him with fire and anger.

“I’m sorry, grandfather.” His thin wrist is grabbed in a vice grip so tight, he thinks his bones might break under the pressure.

“You are sorry? Are you?”

“Yes….” He whispers.

“Speak louder boy.”

“Yes! I am sorry!” He cries out, lip wobbling as a reaction to the pain coming from his wrist.

“It is bad enough that your sister deems the dirt and bugs worthy of her time, but for you to join her? Absolutely despicable.”

Aemond hangs his head in shame, and so that his grandfather won’t see the tears that finally start to slip from his eyes. He doesn’t understand why his grandfather is so angry. He hadn’t done anything bad. At least not that he can think of. He had only been playing with Helaena out in the Godswood. It was quiet there, and peaceful. And Helaena was the only one who listened to him. His older sister was the only one who was kind to him. She didn’t bully him like Aegon and Rhaenyra’s sons.

“Helaena and I were just playing together.” He mumbles.

“The dirt is no place for a prince to be spending his time. You are old enough to know this.”

“But grandfather!”

The stinging slap that follows has his cheek burning immediately. And that accompanied with the pain from his wrist finally forces a sob to escape his lips. It hurt, everything hurt.

“You do not question me, little boy. You will do as I say. I forbid you to play in the Godswood. You will stick to the training yard and the dragon pit if you must. But if I find you in the Godswood again without good reason, you will regret it. Do you understand?” The older man seethes as he glares at his young grandson.

The silver haired boy nods tearfully, avoiding eye contact with the man keeping his wrist hostage.

“Good. Now get out of my sight. I don’t want to see you again until the dinner bells toll.” Otto releases Aemond’s wrist and all but shoves him away.

Aemond stumbles and runs out of his grandfather’s chamber, rushing down the halls in a flurry of silver hair and green cloth fluttering in the breeze. Angrily he rubs at the tears still tracking down his buying cheeks. The young boy didn’t understand what he had done to deserve his grandfather’s cruelty. Not this time, not last time, nor the time before that.

Today it had been playing in the dirt. Yesterday had been because he could not understand the past-perfect conjugation of ‘to fight’ in High Valyrian. The day before that? He couldn’t even remember. There were too many little infractions in between.

He tries so hard to be an obedient son. He listens to his mother when she screams and cries at him, even if he was not the object of her ire. Never complaining even when her nails dig into his skin. He tries to make sure Aegon made it to his lessons and training on time, instead of lazing about the castle. But this just seems to make everyone angry. And he tries to be friendly with his sister, playing with her and speaking for her when she refuses to talk to mother or grandfather. But that always backfires.

Aemond also never misses his lessons. He spends countless hours studying and training, perfecting each and every skill so his mother and grandfather would be proud. But they never are. Why did they hurt him like this? He could not remember a time, where there wasn’t a fresh bruise on his skin, or a cut from a ring or fingernail.

I’m just the spare. A second son. A disappointment. He sighs. Is that why I deserve such treatment? Did mother even want me?

Still sprinting down the hallways, something he knew he would be in trouble for later, he does not notice the other child rounding the corner and the two of them collide in a mighty crash and they both fall to the floor with groans. Aemond lays there on the floor for a moment to gather his bearings.

“Kepa?” A squeaky voice breaks the silence and then suddenly a dark, curly mop of hair invades his vision as Lucerys leans over him.

“Luke….” Aemond mutters awkwardly. He remembers the tears that had been streaming down his face and he wipes at them again before his nephew notices. But it was too late.

“Aemond, are you okay? What hurts? I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going!” The younger child babbles and his arms hover over him fretfully, unsure of what to do.

Aemond waves him off and pushes himself to his feet, ignoring Luke’s hand that he had offered.

“I am fine nephew. Now if you will excuse me.”

“Are you going somewhere? Do you want to come to my playroom to play with Jace and I?”

Aemond blanches at the thought of the jokes and laughter he would be subject to at his own expense if he were to follow the young Velaryon. He shakes his head quickly and steps back.

“No. I’d rather not. Excuse me.”

Aemond turns so fast and runs the other way without another word. He does not see the pout upon his nephew’s lips. ——————————————————— Luke age 6 King’s Landing

“My prince!” Ser Harwin calls out. “Another good match. Your practice is showing.” Harwin puts down his wooden practice sword and crouches down to pat Luke on his shoulder for a job well done.

“I have to practice Ser Harwin!” Luke says seriously, his chubby cheeks reddened by the wind and exertion of wielding a blade, even if it was only made of wood.

“Aye, as it is part of your studies. But you practice more than anyone I’ve seen, almost equal to your uncle Aemond.”

“I have to practice more, so when the time comes I can protect my soulmate!” The young child exclaims.

Harwin sighs and smiles sadly at the young prince. Now six years of age, young Luke still had bruises and scars appearing on the daily. It was awful in every sense of the word. Every day, the young prince looked like he had been off to war and lost. Thank the gods that none of the injuries were truly his and he could not feel them.

It was a hard lesson for all of them to learn, back when Luke was younger. Luke had been taught about soulmates from the minute he was able to understand the concept. But it was a dark day when the child realized his soulmates injuries were not normal. And though he, Rhaenyra and Laenor had wished to keep the truth from him, they knew they could not. So the three of them had sat him down and explained in words that he could understand, that his other half was being hurt. On purpose. And the sweet child had cried and cried. Not for himself, no. But for his soulmate who he had not yet met.

“You will be a wonderful mate, little prince, when the time comes. Your other half will be lucky to have you by their side.”

“I hope they think so. But I will be the lucky one, Ser Harwin.”

“Oh? And why is that?”

“Anyone who can survive as my soulmate has, they must be strong.”

“I am sure they are. And they will be all the stronger for having you at their side.”

Luke beams up at him and wraps him up in a hug, though his tiny arms can only go so far. Harwin chuckles and tucks him against his chest. After a couple moments together, Ser Harwin pulls back. But when he does, his eyes darken. There, upon the young boy’s face, a bruise was forming. Purples and blues surround his eye. Luke catches Harwin’s look and frowns.

“Another bruise?” He asks sadly.

“Yes.” Another bruise did not come as a shock. But its placement did. Never before had Luke’s soulmate’s injuries show up in such a visible spot. They were always on his arms, legs, back or chest. Never his face. Whoever was harming Luke’s soulmate was getting bolder. And if that didn’t make Harwin want to burn the city to the ground….

“Then let’s go again. I have to get stronger and faster.”

Harwin sighs, and shakes his head.

“No, my prince. You will do your soulmate no good if you overexert yourself. We will continue tomorrow, alright?”

“Alright.”

“Very well. Let us go now. It is almost dinner and I don’t want you showing up looking like you took a roll around the dragon pit.”

Luke giggles. And when Ser Harwin stands up and offers him hand, he takes it with a toothy grin.

The bruise fades before dinner thankfully. But Luke is still resigned and quiet when he shows up to the dining hall. His mother, father and siblings are all present. As were the Queen, King, Aegon and Helaena.

“Where is Aemond?” He pipes up curiously.

“Oh. My son has fallen….ill. The Hand is taking care of him at the moment.” Alicent says, voice colored with little emotion.

“Please give him my well wishes, Queen Alicent.” Luke requests.

“Of course.” She answers. Though Luke has no way of knowing that his request would never be completed. ———————————————————————————————— Aemond age 9: King’s Landing

Aemond was, in Aegon’s terms, utterly fucked. He had been locked away in grandfather’s chambers for half the day. Apparently, Otto could not trust the young prince to study adequately enough on his own time after the maesters had left for the day. So after his lessons, mother had dragged him to grandfather’s chambers, locked him in with his books and told him she required perfect conjugation of 5 new High Valyrian verbs by the time they returned.

Not that she or grandfather would even know if the conjugations were correct not. But that was beside the point. For he had memorized and memorized till he was sure he could conjugate the verbs in his sleep.

No. He had much bigger issues on his hands now. After spending more than enough time studying, he had decided to stretch his legs and take a short walk around the chambers. Otto Hightower’s chambers were lavishly decorated, and several historical and precious artifacts were proudly displayed by the walls. One in particular had caught his attention this day. A porcelain vase, painted with beautiful depictions of dragons that had been commissioned by the late King Jahaerys for Otto Hightower.

Aemond had only wanted to touch the painting of the dragons. Only wanted to admire the beautifully crafted vase. But he had tripped over a discarded pen on the ground just as he was reaching towards it. And to his horror, his hand had pushed the porcelain vase off of its stand. The thing had consequently crashed to the floor and shattered into thousands of pieces.

Oh gods. He thinks. “No, no, no, no.” He drops to his knees and attempts to gather the biggest pieces, but he knows it will be a fruitless task.

His heart stops when he hears the chamber door unlocking and the wood creaking open. But he does not turn to see who it is. He knows. And he knows if he turns around, his fate will be sealed. So he holds his breath and waits.

“Boy? Why are you not at the desk? What are you doing over…..” Otto stops speaking then. And Aemond knows he has seen. “What have you done?”

Aemond begins to shake with fear, too scared to turn around. But it turns out he does not need to. For the next second a hand has taken ahold of the collar of his shirt and dragged him around to face the enraged man.

“What have you done?” The man screams, causing the young boy to flinch. “Speak boy! Before I cut out your useless tongue!”

“I didn’t mean to grandfather! Please! I….” His apology is cut short by a fist swinging towards him and sending him flying once it makes contact with his head.

He cries out and reaches a trembling hand up to protect himself.

“You stupid, stupid boy. Do you know what that vase was?”

Aemond nods, tears streaming down his face endlessly.

“I should kill you for your insolence! If we did not need a spare, I’d send you to your early grave. Be thankful boy. Though useless, you will live to see another day.” A kick to Aemond’s ribs has him whimpering and curling even further around himself.

“Pathetic.”

It is at that moment that the dinner bells toll.

“There will be no dinner for you tonight. You will clean this mess up piece by piece. Until the floor is spotless. Do you understand?”

Aemond nods.

“And then once you are finished, you will go to the sept and you will pray to the gods till morning. You are not allowed to fall asleep. I have business to attend to now. But I will be back. You better be gone from here by then.”

One last kick to his ribs and then Otto is gone. Though his lip trembles and his body aches, Aemond dutifully gets up onto his knees and crawls over to the mess of broken porcelain.

I can do this. I can do this He chants like a mantra to himself. If he does not convince himself to go on, he was sure he would collapse and not get back up again.