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Chapter Text

Chapter One:

115 AC

In the early morning hours of the year 115 AC, during the reign of King Viserys I, screams echoed through the halls of King’s Landing. Rhaenrya Targaryen’s labors had begun hours before, the memories of suffering through her first labor with her eldest son Jacaerys doing nothing to prepare her for this birth. The Grand Maester had suggested she may have been carrying twins, but now that suggestion was a certainty.

With one last mighty heave and a bloody scream, the first babe emerged, face red instantly as the first baby, a girl, was introduced to the world. No one present batted an eye at the tufts of soft brown hair that were matted against the fragile skull, knowing better than to seem confused at the absence of white Targaryen and Velaryon hair. Rhaenrya only had a moment to look over her baby girl and place a soft kiss on her head before contractions began again.

The baby was carried into the adjoining room to be cleaned and kept safe while her mother labored over her twin. But no matter how the wetnurses tried, the baby girl refused to settle. Her little screams rivaled her mother’s, inconsolable.

Within the hour, the second babe was born, a boy, screaming matching his sister’s instantly. As mother was being cleaned quickly, given herbal teas to numb the pain, the boy was cleaned before the twins were carried back to their mother, still screaming with all their little might. But as soon as they were placed together on Rhaenrya’s breasts, their little hands managing to reach for each other, they were instantly soothed.

Rhaenyra drearily smiled down at her new babies, whispering their names to them as they suckled and fed together. When the nurses attempted to separate them again, carrying them to separate cradles, the screaming started again, more frantic this time. Their mother understood what her children needed instantly, and ordered that they be placed together in one cradle. The moment Lucerys was placed with his sister, he calmed and tried his best to wiggle his way to her, but to no avail, and began whimpering again. But the wetnurses merely whispered sweet words to their newest prince and princess, and moved the babes to be squished together, and they promptly fell asleep, as close as they had been for the past 9 moons.

The following morning, Rhaenrya welcomed Laenor, Jacaerys, her dearest friend Alicent, her father, and their little ones, Aegon II, Helaena, and Aemond into the room to observe the newest members of the family. While the adults cooed over the babies and fussed over Rhaenrya, the young ones were confused by the need to acknowledge the little bundles in the cradle. All except Aemond Targaryen, only four years of age, who stayed gazing down at his new niece and nephew solemnly. As he watched over them, Lucerys opened his brown eyes and gazed up at his uncle, and gurgled a greeting. Aemond wrinkled his nose and left the babies alone in favor of cuddling up between his mother and older sister as they gossiped together in bed. But even as he stayed nestled between the older women, he periodically glanced over to the crib, listening for any sounds of distress from the newborns.

Little did anyone know that all their futures were being altered by the two babes and their uncle from that moment on.

Chapter Text

Chapter Two:

“Oh Seven Hells, not again!” Rhaenrya rolled her eyes exasperated as she heard the twins screaming from opposite sides of her large chambers again. Ser Harwin Strong offered her a soft smile as he played soldiers with Jace by the fire.

“Why keep them separate, Princess? They have been joined since before their hearts beat, why tear them apart now?”

Rhaenrya glanced at the babies (rumored) father and scoffed. “They are already three years of age, already walking and learning some words, the both of them. Am I supposed to let them be joined to the hip for their whole life?”

Harwin gave no answer, smiling down at Jace instead, who offered his father a bright smile that quickly wilted as his siblings began another round of wailing.

“Mama, why can’t the babies be together? They cry without each other” Jacaerys gently asked. Already, the twins’ older brother had taken it upon himself to be their sworn protector. He loved them as they loved him, a bond held tightly by them all. Rhaenrya let a loud, harmless huff and nodded to the two of them. Instantly Jace raced to his baby sister’s room, gently picking her up and cooing at her, promising that he would take her directly to Lucerys. As soon as the infants were reunited, the crying stopped, and their afternoon nap finally commenced.

Shortly after, the guard outside their chambers knocked quietly, and whispered the arrival of the (past) Queen Alicent and her sons, Aemond and Aegon. After offering Ser Harwin a quick smile in greeting, Alicent plopped next to Rhaenyra to discuss small council business that needed to be addressed later that evening, while Aegon joined the knight and Jace to in playing soldiers. Glancing to make sure he was not being watched and judged, Aemond walks over to the cradle and looks down at them with a soft smile in place.

There he stays as much time passes, dutifully ensuring their little chests fill with air, any whimpers are soothed by comforting words he whispers to them, and their blankets are wrapped around them enough to keep them warm. After a while, as his twin remains asleep, Lucerys opens his eyes and gazes up at his uncle with a smile. Aemond offers a smile back and drops his hand to Luce, who wraps his small hand around his uncle’s fingers and squeezes, beginning to babble mostly nonsense. The only identifiable word Aemond can make out is “A’mon.”

“That’s right, Luce. Aemond, can you say it? Aaaaeeeemon-DUH,” he tries to encourage Lucerys to use all the syllables of his name, but Luce was having none of it, instead opting to curl his body around his sister again and fall right back asleep, their brown locks curling together. Aemond decided chocolate brown was his favorite color at that moment.

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Aemond had never known pain such as this.

As humiliating and discouraging as the Pink Dread incident was, nothing could ever come close to the searing pain as his favorite nephew sliced his eye from his face.

His young cousins and nephews beating him into the ground, punishing him for finally bonding with Vhagar, and as anger and indignation soared through him, he raised a rock over his head to retaliate. The next instant, blinding pain, hot blood pouring from his face, and the screams of his niece followed by knights carrying his body all blurred together to end with the Grand Maester stitching his eye. Barely hearing the Maester inform his mother that his eye was lost, he focused instead on the little shaking hand that grasped his own. Lucerys’s twin, the poor girl who had only just run in as he was cut down, refusing to leave his side even while glancing at her brother as he hide behind their mother.

As the family fought around them, screams and threats hurled at one another, his niece tucked her face into her uncle's neck and cried silently. Had he the strength, he would have tried to comfort her, as he had since the twins were born. All he could do was whisper that he was alright, and rested his uninjured cheek against her curly hair wearily.

Soon, the heated disputes were put to silence by Viserys, and all were sent to their respective chambers. Once the maester’s and his mother had left him for the night, Aemond stayed awake, blurred from the milk of the poppy, yet unable to fall asleep. His heart beat wildly in his chest, wanting to hate Lucerys but deep down knowing he couldn’t. The bond between him and the twins was strong, and he stood by his opinion: the loss of an eye was a small price to pay for Vhagar.

Aemond’s thoughts were interrupted by the creak of a hidden door near his bed opened. Heart pounding, wondering if Aegon had come to beat him for framing him about the bastard comments (gods, how Aemond wish he could take those vile words back), or Jacaerys to continue the fight, or even if it was Lucerys, coming to finish the job. But his heart settled slightly as his eyes met the familiar brown of his twins’ eyes.

His niece came first, pleading him with her eyes to stay silent. He made no move to call for the guards, instead laying his head back on the pillow to observe as she stepped fully into the candlelight, pulling her brother behind her harshly. Lucerys kept his eyes to the floor, but Aemond could see the streaks of tears falling down his cheeks, mixing with the blood from his broken pug nose. Aemond had hurt him too, and he felt a twinge in his chest at seeing the evidence, slight as it might be.

“Uncle Aemond,” she whispered, tugging Lucerys with her to stand by their uncle’s side. “Lucerys wishes to say something.” Swallowing harshly, Aemond slides his eye to his nephew. Unsuccessfully trying to hide behind his older sister, his wet brown eyes finally connect with Aemond’s, and fresh tears fall as he slowly reaches forward to grasp onto his uncle’s hand.

“Kepus… Forgive me,” Luce whimpered as more tears fell, landing on Aemond’s hand that was slowly tightening around Luceyrys’s smaller fingers. “I did not mean for this to happen, uncle, please forgive me. Take my eye for revenge if you want, but please do not hate me. Please…”

Lucerys’s childish way of begging through the tears for Aemond’s forgiveness pushed his anger down more than he thought possible. He could not hate his nephew, or by extension his niece. They were a part of him, and him of them. The innocence of the three soothed the threat of revenge or malice, and slowly Aemond pulled his hand from Lucerys, rubbing his hand through his chocolate curls as an answer before offering them both a small smile and a nod in forgiveness.

Unable to hold it in, Lucerys dissolved into a puddle of tears once again, crawling up to tuck himself carefully against his uncle as he had so many times before. Once ensuring Luce was safely tucked into his side, Aemond pulled his niece up on his other side, pulling her close as her silent tears continued to fall as she saw the bloodied linens wrapped around his head.

Many times the twins had snuck into Aemond’s chambers, finding comfort in their uncle. Only Aemond was successful in clearing the fear of nightmares or worries from his twins’ minds, and if Aemond was ever suffering, he would go to the twins’ chambers, curling up around them and allowing their comfort to flow into his heart and mind as well. While Aemond was normally in the middle, sometimes Lucerys, the greedy little thing, insisted on being in the middle, when he especially needed his sister closer to him.

“Thank you, kepa,” she whispered into his ear before reaching across him to wipe some tears from her brother's face. He was already half asleep from the exhaustion of crying so much, comforted instantly by the two people he felt safest with near him. Aemond pressed a kiss against Lucerys’s curls before offering her the same to her forehead, which she responded to with the most gentle kiss on his uninjured cheek.

“Sleep now, I am here, riñītsos. No one will take either of you from me,” Aemond barely finished his promise before he slipped into his own slumber. His “little children” as he called them both, curled against him as they all fell asleep, made Aemond feel at peace again.

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Alicent and Rhaenrya made their peace and found forgiveness in the early hours of the next morning, finding their love and friendship still strong between them. When Jace rushed to them and informed them that the twins were not in their bed, the mothers rushed to Aemond’s room next, fearing the worst. As they entered Aemond’s chambers, they were met with anything but danger.

Lucerys had his back tucked firmly against Aemond’s side, snoring softly through his little broken nose, while Aemond’s arm was curled to support his head. On his other side, his niece kept her nose tucked against Aemond’s shoulder, her arm stretched across him to keep her hand on her brother, always needing to feel each other close. Their chests moved in unison, breathing in the safety and warmth of each other.

Both Alicent and Rhaenrya felt tears escape their eyes, seeing the sweet innocence of their youth wash away the sins committed the night before. The mothers left the little ones to continue to sleep, none of them knowing that yet again, their future was altered by the twins and their uncle in that moment.

Chapter Text

127 AC

Aemond held his niece’s head against his chest as she cried bitterly against her uncle. Being sandwiched between her uncle and Lucerys, who wrapped his arms around her from behind, warmed her to her bones, but even the comfort from the two men did little to soothe the harsh words bouncing around in her head. Vaemond Velaryon had screamed at Lucerys, and by extension, her, hurling insults at them and their mother for all in the throne room to hear. All of the royal family looked ready to rip Vaemond to shreds, even Aegon who mostly stayed neutral during conflicts, curled his lip in anger at the words. Aemond was murderous, his eye ablaze with such venom, and just as his hand grasped his sword to silence Vaemond, Daemon beat him to it.

During the following drama, Aemond had come to his twins’ side, pulling them from the throne room as Aegon and Helaena guided a seething Jacaerys away as well. Guiding the shaking twins to his chambers, Aemond immediately wrapped his niece in his arms, pulling Lucerys in as well behind her. Softly shushing them, even though Lucerys kept a stiff upper lip and refused to let his tears of humiliation fall, it did not take very long before his niece relaxed and slowly pulled from the men’s embrace.

“I am so sorry he said those words, Lucerys,” she offered her twin softly, holding his face and offering him a watery look of sadness. He only shook his head, tucking his face into her neck before taking shaky breaths to calm himself. If Daemon hadn’t beaten him to it, Aemond would have carved Vaemond’s face apart, ripping his tongue out and making him choke to death on it. No one who said such vile things to his twins should be allowed such a swift death.

Deciding to try and calm the twins further, he prompted them to begin preparing for the family dinner Viserys had planned on having. As Lucerys led his sister from Aemond’s chambers to begin preparing themselves, Aemond heavily sat on his bed, trying to ignore the pain in his chest as he understood how soon his twins could be leaving him as Lucerys took up his role as Lord of the Tides at Driftmark. He wanted to refuse to lose them, but did he have a choice?

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Aemond kept his eye trained on the twins as they were seated on the opposite side of the table from him, their heads frequently bowed together to whisper to each other, sometimes bickering too loudly to the point that Daemon sent a raised eyebrow at the two of them. Between them, the rest of the family happily gossipped, ate and drank, some toasts were made, and Viserys was congratulated by Otto and Daemon for making a full recovery from his illness that had plagued him for years, originally causing him to concede his crown to his firstborn daughter years before. Soon Helaena and Jacaerys had pulled a tipsy Aegon from his seat to dance around sloppily with them, while Baela and Rhaena excitedly told Alicent and Rhaenrya about the lords they had recently been betrothed to. Aemond returned his eyes to the twins and saw his niece had kept her eyes downcast into her cups of wine for quite some time as she drained glass after glass.

Lucerys paid little mind to her drinking, as he was keeping up with her almost sip for sip. The two of them rarely drank in excess, but the only one who seemed to notice was Aemond. He frowned, trying to catch their gaze to frown at them, but they refused to meet his eyes. He felt a cold shiver creep up his back. Something was wrong. They never shied from him, not ever.

Trying to distract himself he turned to his grandfather Otto, about to make conversation when a loud splash and a screech ripped his eye back to the twins, a silence enveloping the room. Lucerys stood, red-faced and panting from anger and having too much to drink, glaring down at his sister, as the contents of her glass were now dripping down Lucerys’s shirts.

“Are you fucking serious, sister?” He spat down at her, even as she glared viciously up at him, chin quivering only for her brother to see in the faint light of the room.

“Sagon gīda, riñar,” Daemon spoke to them in a dangerously low voice. “Emagon mirri respect isse se presence hen aōha dāria muña se grandsire.” Be calm children. Have some respect in the presence of your queen mother and grandsire, Daemon had warned.

The room stood in silence as the twins stayed locked in glares, Lucerys’s hands tight in fists, his sister looking equally willing to go to blows. Alicent threw a glance at Aemond, wondering if he knew what was happening. The twins never acted like this in public, rarely ever in front of Aemond really, and he was confused as everyone else. Jacaerys took a small step towards his siblings.

“Brother… Sister… Would you like to go--”

“Yes Jacaerys, thank you for that idea,” his little sister basically growled at him as she stood, keeping her dark eyes fixed on her brother’s, before brushing past him in a flurry of her skirts and exiting the room before anyone could blink. As soon as she left, Lucerys seemed to deflate, glancing at his mother in apology before sitting down and seemed to do his best at withering down in his seat. Music flooded the room again, softer now, and the three older children came back to the table to converse instead of dance, much to Aegon’s delight, now that wine was back within reach.

Viserys and Daemon told stories of the squabbles the two of them had in their youth to try and soothe the tension. Thankfully, it worked for everyone but Aemond and Lucerys, it seemed.

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Rhaenrya and Daemon found their daughter curled under the blankets in their chambers, sniffles altering them to her presence before they saw her.

“Ñuha byka perzys, what bothers you?” In here, Rhaenyra was just a mother and a wife, and she cuddled up to her daughter and pressed kisses to her soft brown curls that had fallen from the braids she had given herself.

“Lucerys has to leave soon,” she heard her daughter whisper. “Doesn’t he?”

“Lord Corlys may live many years yet, my sweet. But yes, whether sooner or later, Lucerys will become the Lord of the Tides. It is his inheritance, his destiny,” Rhaenrya softly spoke, glancing to Daemon as he sat on the other side of his daughter, offering soothing head scratches.

“You know… even before Lucerys may go to Driftmark,” Daemon offered, much to Rhaenrya’s horror, “You may find a suitor and make your way to your own home with a husband.”

That was a mistake to remind their daughter of the future she would have to endure. She was already considered past the age of betrothal, most girls her age were married and expecting their first child by now. In an instant, she had pulled herself from her parents' arms, not silly enough to be disrespectful with a glare or harsh words in protest.

“My place is with my brother and with Aem--,” she stopped herself harshly. “Good eve, muñar.”

As she hurried from the room, Rhaenrya sighed as she tucked her head under Daemon’s chin.

“I do not know why their bond is so deep. I do not believe separating them is possible.”

Daemon offered only a confirming “hmm” to his wife’s words. He knew separating the blood of dragons was never an option, and separating twins was not an option for their children either.

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In another corner of the castle, Aemond found Lucerys, still flushed from his wine, angrily glowering at the stars from a window. No words were exchanged as he walked up to his nephew, ruffling his curls in greeting instead as he sat beside him.

“We don’t want to go,” Lucerys broke the silence first after a few minutes. Aemond did not meet his gaze. “She will be married, I mean fuck, she is passing the marrying age even now. And I… I will take Lord Corlys’s place in Driftmark.” Lucerys bit his lip, and Aemond’s eye followed the movement. “We have never been apart, before we even were born, Aemond. And when she marries, I must also marry. I’m sure mother and father are already thinking about suitors for her and possible alliances they can make with whoever they betroth me to.”

Aemond offers him his signature “hmm” as he watches his nephew, trying to tamp down the wave of sickly feelings swirling around his body at the thought of his twins being taken from him. Everyone pretended to ignore it for the most part, how close the three of them really were. They could excuse the closeness of Lucerys and his sister when they were babes, sure. But now that they were 18, fully adults, waiting to be wed and take on new titles and responsibilities, no one wanted to really acknowledge how the twins still slept in the same bed, bathed together, and did everything together. Everyone was even more intent on ignoring how close the twins were to their uncle. More often than not, Aemond would welcome the twins into his chambers to sleep, or he would find himself in their bed for rest, as he had done since they were all small. The three of them existed almost as one unit. The idea of tearing that unit apart was excruciating for all involved.

Aemond was far past the traditional age for marrying, but no one pushed him. Being a second son, and technically speaking, 9th in line to the Iron Throne (10th if Daemon took over instead of Jacaerys), as well as being in a time of peace where marriage alliances were not strictly necessary, there was no one to push Aemond to marry. Though no one spoke it, everyone knew: Aemond cared only for his twins, and his family after them. Who would try to take Aemond “One-Eye” Targaryen, skilled swordsman, rider of the largest and oldest dragon alive, silver-tongued and dangerous, away from what was his?

Aemond held out his arms to Lucerys when he saw the younger man’s chin begin to quiver slightly, and Lucerys quickly pulled himself into his uncle’s lap, face tucking between Aemond’s collar so that could rest his cold nose against the warm skin there. Aemond kept an arm around Lucerys’s waist, while his other hand trailed against the curls on his boy’s head. The hour was late, and even if they were spotted by a lost servant or a knight, no one would look twice, let alone mention it to another soul, afraid of the one-eyed prince’s temper.

Without a word, Aemond effortlessly lifted Lucerys up, wrapping his legs around his waist, and carried him to his own chambers, knowing his niece would be there waiting for them.

Chapter Text

The loyal and trusted personal guard outside of Aemond’s door barely even glanced at them as Aemond carried Lucerys, only bowing as he closed the doors behind his princes. Aemond cast a glance at his bed, finding it empty, seeing the silhouette of his niece outside on his balcony instead. His heart fluttered as he saw that she had traded her dinner dresses in exchange for one of Aemond’s much larger linen shirts, her underthings still on, and a pair of baggy stockings he recognized as Lucerys’s to keep her perpetually cold toes warm. While Lucerys’s pug nose was always cold, and always searching for the warm skin of Aemond’s or his sister’s neck, her toes remained cold as ice all times of the year. Both Aemond and Lucerys had squalled at her more times than could be counted when she sneakily tucked her toes under their warm thighs or pushed them into their hands to be rubbed warm. Naturally, the men would try to rub warmth back into her feet without too much complaint.

His niece turned as Aemond called to her, and her sad face softened when she saw Lucerys peaking at her from under his curls, brown eyes big and searching his sister’s face. As she began walking towards the men, Aemond gently set Lucerys down on his own feet, and not a second later the twins were holding one another in a tight embrace, no words needing to be spoken. Everyone knew the issues at dinner earlier were only pain veiled by anger. Giving them their space, Aemond began pulling off his layers of dinner wear, annoyed by the fuss. Soon he had removed his formal attire and replaced it all with a pair of soft sleep pants and a soft shirt, finishing by removing his eyepatch. He knew that the two of you disliked it, and were more than comfortable seeing him without it. He pulled similar items out of his wardrobe for Lucerys, turning back to the pair to see them both watching him.

Offering them a small smile, which they returned, Aemond sat on his large armchair in front of the fire the maids had set as he watches his niece begin to help her twin out of his formal dinner attire as well. The clothes held the thick smell of wine still, which his niece wrinkled her nose at. When Lucerys was in his underthings and shivering slightly from the breeze that flowed through the open windows, Aemond joined his niece in dressing Lucerys in Aemond’s much larger sleep clothes. While his sister lowered herself to put stockings on his cold feet, Aemond pressed a kiss to Lucerys’s flushed cheek, while his hand reached down and caressed his nieces head. She gave him a pleased sound, standing back up and nuzzling into his chest as she pulled Lucerys against her as well.

The pair of them were always cuddly and needed more attention than Aemond could ever understand, but giving the twins what they wanted, and seeing how peaceful and fuzzy they got, their little pleased smiles and noises of contentment were reward enough for Aemond. Emotions had run hot and bitterly through all of them today, and he knew the twins needed love and a strong hand tonight more than normal.

Running his eye along their bodies to ensure they were properly warm and dressed, he let a long breath out through his nose, allowing himself to fall into the mental place he needed to be. Where they also needed him to be.

Two pairs of glossy brown eyes met his, following his movements as he moved to sit back on his large armchair once again. This was still relatively new territory for the three of them. They had never discussed the dynamics, never set any rules or boundaries, and never even talked about it after the scare times it had happened in the past. Not that they ever really went far enough to need a discussion.

Regardless of being a man grown, Lucerys yielded to older and stronger men. He was not like Daemon, or even Jacaerys, who was kind yet firm and not one to take a stance against. He would protect his twin until his own death, valuing her more than life itself. His sister would never allow herself to be walked over, or talked down to, but she trusted her mother and father, brothers, and Aemond more than anyone in the world. Her protectiveness (which she learned from Daemon) flowed over her brother, not even willing to let a single hair on his head be harmed while she was there to stand up for him. She had even once thrown a punch at Aegon when he shoved Lucerys down during a sparring lesson. Aemond did not have the heart to reprimand her as he bandaged her poor bruised hand while Daemon snickered as Aegon sulked.

But here, in the seclusion and privacy of the chambers the three shared, they fell into their own headspaces, finding peace and comfort in one another, vulnerable and treasured. Lucerys slipped his hand into his sister’s as they watched their uncle sit and observe them, waiting for him to break the silence.

“Come.” Aemond’s word was soft, calm, and inviting. The twins moved towards him as one, hands remaining together tightly until they stood in front of Aemond. Lucerys fiddled with his sister's fingers between his own, keeping his eyes on Aemond’s chest, while she held his gaze. Something in her eyes pleaded with him, asking him to comfort the both of them. Since the beginning, Aemond was their comfort as much as they were his, and now they needed him. And he needed to feel them close to him again, the verbal confirmation that they may be ripped from his grasp almost too much to bear.

“Give me your hands, ñuha qēlossās.” My stars, Aemond called them. They placed their free hands in his larger, calloused hand. “Now see our marks on our palms? See the evidence of the promise I made to you both, that you returned to me and to each other?” The three watched their hands as Aemond traced his finger along the faint matching scars on their hands.

[jump back in time]
Many moons ago, the three of them had snuck into the castle’s cellars, having heard that a dark and rich Dornish wine had come to the castle, and they wanted to try it. They had only ever had watered-down wine, as was customary for children, but they were ready for the full experience. Even as the three wrinkled their noses in disgust at the potent drink, they drank greedily, filling their bellies, before scampering back to the twins' chambers, Aemond shushing them constantly, warning them about being caught. As hours passed, starting with giggling fits and tickle fights, to more forlorn topics about “growing old” and “being betrothed” while their little brains were flooded from the wine, Aemond and the twins made a decision.

Aemond had begun learning about his Targaryen heritage during his studies, and knew the basics of Targaryen bonding and marriages. With as much solemnity as the children possessed, still addled with wine and sadness, they began to make their promises. Lacking dragonglass, Aemond took a small dagger (the same Lucerys had used to cut out his eye) and carefully opened the palms of himself, Lucerys, and his niece, each of them pushing their wounds together, mixing their blood. They swore, to all the old gods and the new, that the three of them were never to be parted. They agreed that when they grew up, the three of them would wed in the tradition of their ancestors, as Aegon the Conqueror had done. The children knew that Helaena and Aegon were to be married in a few years, so they saw no reason they could not follow with their own wishes. Then they dipped their fingers in the mixed blood and smeared it down each other's lips, shyly offering each other a kiss to each as they sealed their promises.

[current time]
The smooth skin of their shared scars shone in the light of the fireplace, memories washing over the three of them comfortingly. None of them had mentioned their promises in the past few years, not feeling safe enough to ask if their childhood wishes had remained. Promises the three of them all silently held close to their hearts, hoping against hope that what they wanted could be possible.

“Do you still…” whispered Lucerys’s sister. “Do you both still wish for our promises to be real?”

The words none of them had dared to ask one another, too frightened by the possibility of rejection, were finally spoken. Lucerys brought his eyes up to his sister, then to Aemond, his eyes wet with unshed tears. Aemond gazed between his niece and nephew, words on the tip of his tongue, feeling the twins squeezing his fingers between their smaller, softer hands.

“I would have you both, if you gave me the honor,” Aemond whispered just as softly, feeling his heart beat out of his chest. Their eyes snapped to his, mouths opening to let out tiny gasps at his admission. “Viserys would surely allow it, furthering the Targaryen and Velaryon lines, and while my mother may disagree, Daemon and Rhaenerya will surely stand with my father.”

“But--” Lucerys interrupts, his hands shaking as he held onto the two others. “But she and I are twins… and only half Targaryen… do you really think grandsire would grant us this?” He lowered his eyes as his lower lip started to quiver, and in a barely heard voice, he continues. “I don’t think I could handle it if grandsire denied us each other.”

“Nor could I,” Aemond ducks his head to catch Lucerys’s gaze, before looking back to his niece. “And you, sweet girl?”

Her men looked at her, waiting for her to express her desires. Lip quivering like her brothers, she climbed into Aemond’s lap, wrapping her arms around his neck, and openly sobbed. Lucerys fell to his knees at Aemond’s feet, wrapping his arms around his sister’s middle, cooing at her, and rubbing her back, trying to comfort her. Keeping a firm arm around his girl, Aemond dropped his hand to Lucerys’s face, guiding his eyes up to meet his own, fingers tracing down the fragile cheekbones and across his lips, before finding their familiar place in his hair. Lucerys allowed his eyes to drop closed and push into Aemond’s hand, while his sister’s sobs quieted but kept her face against the warmth of Aemond’s shoulder.

Keeping his hold on her, Aemond guided Lucerys up to his knees, bending down and pressing a soft kiss to Lucerys’s lips. A whimper escaped his boy, but the noise was quieted as his sister turned her head from Aemond’s shoulder and pressed her lips against his as well. Pulling her mouth from her brother, she turned and pressed her mouth against Aemond’s next, as Lucerys gazed up at them.

“Come, byka perzyssy,” Aemond spoke softly, not wanting to disrupt either of his loves, and slowly stood while keeping a hold on his girl. Lucerys trailed behind, hand once again clasped to his sister’s as Aemond led them to his bed. Carefully settling her down against the pillows, and watching as Lucerys climbed in beside her to curl his limbs with hers, Aemond blew out the candles surrounding them before joining them, keeping his niece in between the two of them so that she could be kept warm from their body heat. Turning so her back was pressed against the warmth of her brother’s chest, she drapped her leg across Aemond’s stomach, his hand settling on the warm skin of her thigh while his other hand remained on Lucerys’s head, which was tucked into his sister’s hair.

“Tomorrow, we will go to Viserys, together, and ask for his blessing. Once it is given, we will fly to Dragonstone and wed in our traditions,” Aemond decided. But his loves were already snoring softly, tears still hanging from their eyelashes, and feeling at peace again, Aemond followed them into slumber.