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Chapter Text

The embers in the fireplace were barely still glowing when Aemond slipped through the door of Luke’s room. He crept silently towards his sleeping form with no other thought in his mind besides the image of his mother’s face. The betrayal he had seen in her eyes when his father had ignored his maiming in favor of defending Rhaenyra’s bastards yet again. Seeing that look on her face was almost more painful than the Maester pulling his ruined eye out of its socket. It was a look that confirmed what Aemond had always known, but didn’t want to admit to himself. Viserys didn’t care about him, or his mother and the children he had with her. He only cared about Rhaenyra and her mother, Queen Aemma, the only woman he had ever truly loved. Viserys would always protect his first wife’s only child, even at the expense of his other children, even when she didn’t need his protection, even when she was only dealing with the consequences of her own actions. If Viserys would not give him and his mother justice, then he would take it himself.

His hand was sweaty as he gripped the knife, standing over Luke’s sleeping form, and before he could lose his nerve, he reached with his other hand to cover the boy’s mouth and slashed out with the knife in the same second. Luke woke up immediately and for a moment he was disoriented and confused, but only for a moment. Aemond could feel Luke’s scream under his hand and he could hear the muffled sounds of it too. Blood was quickly soaking the pillow on one side and tears on the other. He had thought that it would feel like justice, satisfaction for the debt his mother had demanded but was denied; but instead he just felt sick watching Luke writhe in pain. The knife clattered to the floor and Aemond’s hand slipped away from Luke’s mouth as he backed away in horror.

Aemond wasn’t sure when he had begun to cry, but the tears were already dripping down one side of his face, while his injured eye stung horribly. He sank down to the floor in shock and stared at the bloody knife in front of him through a blurry haze and he was so numb with shock that he barely reacted when someone grabbed him roughly and pulled him to his feet, then tossed him to the side. He stumbled forward and his injured face bumped against the arm of a chair and he cried out in pain. He backed himself up against the wall and watched as Rhaenyra pulled her son’s head into her lap and screamed for the Maester as she pressed a handful of the bed covers to his face to staunch the bleeding.
“I’m sorry” He sobbed, as the fear took hold of him at the thought of everything Rhaenyra might do to him now that he had maimed her son. No doubt it wouldn’t matter to her that Lucerys had maimed him first. “Please don’t hurt me, please. I’m sorry.”

It didn’t take long for the Maester to arrive, evidently he had not been abed, but attending the King and when the guard ran to fetch him, Viserys had learned what had happened and insisting on coming along. At first, his father only glanced at him, then sat heavily in a chair next to the bed and seemed to sink in on himself as he observed the scene before him. Aemond could feel his heart hammering in his chest and tears still dripping down his face as he watched his father warily and tried not to look at the bed where the Maester had begun to examine and clean the wound on Luke’s face. He saw, rather than heard the moment when the Maester told Rhaenyra that his eye was lost, because she turned to glare at him with a look of pure fury and Aemond began to tremble under her gaze.

“Father, what is to be done with him?” She said coldly, still staring at Aemond. Viserys seemed to be shocked out of a stupor at her words and her tone and he stared at her incredulously, then looked back and forth between her and Aemond, his mouth opening and closing several times before he finally managed to form words.
“What’s do be done with him?” He asked, and to his utter surprise, Aemond thought there might even be a hint of disgust in his voice. It was a tone he had never once heard his father use with his favorite daughter, though he had used it with Aegon more times than he could count. “What would you have me do Rhaenyra? Take his other eye? Blind the boy?”

Whatever Rhaenyra’s response might have been was cut off by the arrival of Alicent, who somehow managed to look even more frantic than she had earlier that evening. She stared in shock at the scene before her, looking back and forth between Aemond, and Lucerys being tended to by the Maester. Her eyes became somehow even wider than they had been as a look of pure terror crossed her face. She was trembling as she took a few, careful steps towards Aemond and at first he thought she might hug him, but instead, she simply moved so that she was in between her son and her husband and Rhaenyra.
“Viserys, please, whatever punishment there is, let it be done to me, not Aemond. Please, I beg you. Please don’t hurt him. I shall take whatever it is without complaint, just please don’t hurt my son.” She sank down to her knees, sobbing as she spoke and both Viserys and Rhaenyra were rendered completely speechless for several long moments and may had lasted longer if Luke had not cried out when Maester pulled his ruined eye from its socket. Rhaenyra looked down at him and began stroking his hair and whispering softly to him as the Maester began to stitch the wound closed. She kept a hand on his forehead, tenderly stroking his blood soaked hair, but the look on her face when she looked back up was anything but tender.

“Well, you heard her father. What is to be done?” She asked with her voice full of malice that sent a chill down Aemond’s spine.
“Father no, please.” He said, his voice shaking as he stepped forward and took hold of his mother’s hand. She squeezed his hand, but did not look away from Viserys, who looked absolutely stunned and was staring at Rhaenyra as if he was truly seeing her for the first time ever in his life.
“Rhaenyra you cannot be serious. Would you have me torture my own wife? The woman you used to say was like a sister to you?”
“Her son cut out my son’s eye!”
“And your son did the same thing to him first!” Viserys yelled, stepping towards Rhaenyra and effectively placing himself between her and his wife and son. “This matter is done, Rhaenyra. It’s over. Nothing will be done to Aemond or Alicent, and you will let this matter drop. Do you understand me?”
“Father I–”
“It is done, Rhaenyra.” He repeated again, tapping his cane on the floor for emphasis on each word. She stared at him for a long, terrible moment, then finally she nodded.
“Yes father.” Viserys let out a long sigh and slumped forward slightly, his cane wobbling as almost his entire body weight rested on it. Alicent, acting almost on instinct is seemed, stepped forward and put a hand on his shoulder, but he shook his head and slowly straightened himself back up.
“I’m fine Alicent, just…take Aemond back to his room and we’ll all go back to bed.”

Viserys didn’t even look at them as they left the room and Aemond could feel from his mother’s arm around his shoulders that she was still trembling. Neither of them spoke until they were back in Aemond’s room and Alicent sat down next to him on the bed and took one of his hands and held it in both of hers.
“I though it would feel like justice to take his eye. But it didn’t.” He said quietly, staring down at his lap. “As soon as I did it, I wished I could take it back, but it was already too late”
“I must admit I feel quite the same way.” Alicent said softly. “I demanded the ‘debt’ be paid, but now that it’s done, all I see is bloodshed on top of bloodshed and one more child maimed for life, and I am so sorry.”
“Sorry for what?”
“I’m sorry that we’ve placed our wars on the shoulders of our children. I’m sorry that you now have blood on your hands because I made you think that was the only solution.”
“What war mother? I don’t understand.” Alicent stared at him for a long moment and Aemond could see tears in her eyes, but she didn’t seem to know how to answer his question, and after few moments, she looked down and began picking at her nails the way she always did when she was stressed, scared or nervous. He reached out and put his hand on top of hers to stop her.
“You’re hurting yourself Mother.”
“Rhaenyra used to do that too, when…well, it was many many years ago when she last did it.”
“So it’s true, what father said? That you used to be friends, as close as sisters? Is that the war you’re talking about? Your friendship?”
“Yes, and I’m afraid that what was broken between us is far beyond repair now. I only wish we hadn’t let our animosity fall onto our children, but I suppose it is far too late for that as well.” She said and she reached out a hand to gently brush against the bandages on his face, her eyes full of guilt and pain. Aemond’s heart ached to see his mother this way, and he desperately wanted to reassure her somehow, but there was nothing to be done that could fix the hurt in her heart, so he simply wrapped his arms around her waist and leaned his head on her shoulder, offering what little comfort he could.

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Aemond laid awake long after his mother left his room, thinking about all she had said, and all she had avoided saying, trying to figure out what it all meant, but he only got more confused the longer he thought about it. He was staring up at the ceiling, losing all concept of time when he heard his door creak open and when he squinted in the dim light of the dying embers of his fire to see who it was, he saw white bandages against dark curls and one brown eye staring at him.
“You couldn’t sleep either?” He asked and Luke gave a tiny nod, stepped cautiously towards the bed, then stopped when he was just a step away. Aemond let out a sigh and patted the space beside him, inviting Luke to join him. He sat gingerly on the edge of the bed, next to Aemond, but as far away from him as possible.
“I don’t know why I came here, but I just…”
“Yeah…I know.” The silence stretched for several long minutes until Aemond reached out a tentative hand and brushed the tips of his fingers, ever so softly on the bandages that covered the injury he inflicted. He flinched slightly at first, but he didn’t jump away, and once Aemond dropped his hand back down to the bed, Luke turned to face him; crossed his legs in front of himself and then slowly reached out to mimic Aemond’s gesture.
“Are you angry at me?” Aemond asked after a few more moments of silence
“No.” Luke answered “Are you still angry at me?”
“No…I don’t think I was ever angry at you. Not really.”
“I think you’re lying.” Luke said, his face solemn. Aemond let out a long sigh and looked down at his hands in his lap.
“Alright fine, I was angry at you, but not about this. Not really.” He says, gesturing to his face “I was angry and jealous and I was hurt for as long as I can remember. I was jealous of you and Jace, and I hated you for it. Maybe I still do.”

“Jealous? Why?”
“Because you had everything I’ve ever wanted.” Aemond said quietly, refusing to look at Luke as he tried desperately not to cry. “You both have dragons and you have a father who pays attention to you and who loves you even though…”
“Even though he’s not my real father.” Luke finished. Aemond gasped in surprise at the casual admission before he recovered himself and continued, determined to say his piece before he lot his nerve.
“I– well, yes, and…well, your true father loved you too even if he couldn’t openly show it. You have two fathers who love you and protect you and fight for you when mine barely remembers my name. He saw me sitting there bleeding and he cared more about the fact that I called you a bastard than the fact that you cut out my eye. All of that would be bad enough, but your dragon egg hatched and mine didn’t, and you and your brother have mocked me for it as long as I can remember. You and Jace and Aegon laughed at me for something I had no control over and treated me horribly just because you got lucky and I didn’t. And then, when I finally claimed a dragon, I thought just maybe you would be happy for me for once, but instead, you beat me up and said I had no right to claim her. So yes, Lucerys, I’m jealous of you, and sometimes I even hate you.”

The silence that followed his outburst was long and uncomfortable and Aemond resolutely refused to look up at Luke to see what his reaction might be. He didn’t want to see pity, or even guilt on his face and he certainly didn’t want to look at the bandages that covered Luke’s face and the mottled purple bruises where he had broken his nose. Aemond didn’t want to think about his own guilt right now and he was determined to wait and see what Luke had to say for himself, but it seemed the boy was completely at a loss for words. Suddenly, Aemond found himself being pulled into a hug. He flinched at the contact at first, but then he heard Luke’s tear filled voice in his ear.
“I’m sorry Aemond. For all of it. I’m so sorry.” He repeated it over and over until Aemond finally let the walls he’d built around his heart crack ever so slightly, and he tentatively wrapped his own arms around Luke and returned the embrace.
“Thank you, I’m sorry too.” He whispered as his own tears began to drip down his cheek, but this time they weren’t tears of anger or pain, but tears of relief. He had not even realized until that moment how good it would feel to get just a simple apology. Nothing had truly changed; his father still didn’t care about him or his mother and siblings, Rhaenyra would likely continue to insist her bastard children were legitimate, and nothing would give him back his eye, but to hear Lucerys apologize was like a single drop of milk of the poppy to some of the earliest and deepest wounds of his heart. It didn’t heal them instantly, nor did it completely numb the pain, but it was the tiniest bit of relief and the first sign that perhaps things were not yet beyond all hope of repair, and that maybe someday it wouldn’t hurt quite so much.

Chapter Text

The first thing Aemond was aware of when he woke up the next morning was pain. It felt as if his entire face was being split open and it was somehow even worse than the original injury. He pulled the covers up to his mouth and bit down hard to keep from screaming. His breath came in ragged gasps and he could feel the tears dripping from his eye, leaving a cold trail down the side of his face. A whimper in the bed beside him gave him something to focus on, grounding him as he wiped the tears from his face and sat up. Luke had woken up crying too with the same head splitting agony, and probably even worse because he also had a broken nose.
“Don’t touch, you’ll make it hurt worse.” Aemond said, stopping Luke’s hands before he could clap them onto his face. “Just wait a few seconds and it won’t be quite so bad.” Luke squeezed Aemond’s hand and after a few seconds, his eye blinked open and he sat up in bed, wiping the tears with the back of his sleeve.
“I’m okay” He said weakly, letting go of Aemond’s hand. He was almost certain that Luke was just putting on a brave face, but he decided not to press him about it.

“So what do we do now?” Aemond asked after a long moment of silence.
“Go home I guess” Luke said with a shrug.
“No, I meant…right now. As soon as we leave the room, everyone will see this and know what happened.” He said, gesturing to Luke’s face
“Oh right…I don’t know, I guess we’ll find out soon enough, we can’t stay in here forever.” Aemond tried not to let the fear show on his face at the thought of what would happen when everyone saw what he’d done. If Rhaenyra’s anger was anything to judge by, it did not bode well for him or his mother.
“But what if–”
“I won’t let them hurt you.” Luke cut him off, grabbing his shoulders with both hands and looking him straight in the eye.
“What about my mother? Everyone will think she did it, or that she ordered someone to do it. There were plenty of witnesses to her ordering Ser Cristion to cut out your eye, it wouldn’t be a hard jump to think she might have sent someone to do it later.”
“I won’t let them hurt her either.”
“How are you going to do that?”
“I don’t know, but I should probably start by going to find my mother before she wakes up and realizes I’m not in my room.”

As if on cue, they heard the sound of footsteps in the corridor coming towards the room and then Rhaenyra’s voice rang out loud enough to wake the dead.
“Where is my son Alicent!” She shouted “What has your brat done to him now?”
“What in the name of all the gods are you talking about Rheanyra?” Alicent’s indignant voice answered. They heard a thud and the sounds of a scuffle, as if they were struggling against each other. The two boys turned towards each other at the same time and then scrambled out of the bed and ran for the door.
“What do you think they’ll do when they find out we’ve been in the same room all night?” Luke asked, hesitating at the door with his hand halfway to the handle.
“No idea, but if you don’t get out there right now and show your mother that I haven’t murdered you in your sleep, one of them is going to pull out a knife again and I don’t know about you, but I’ve certainly had enough of that.”
“Good point, me too” Luke said as he pushed the door open and stepped out into the hallway.

“I’m right here mother.” Luke said. Aemond took a deep breath, steeling himself for a confrontation that was sure to be awkward and possibly violent, before he stepped out in the hall behind Luke. When he surveyed the scene before him, it was all he could do to keep from laughing. Rhaenyra had his mother pinned against the wall with a hand on each shoulder and his mother had both hands on Rhaenyra’s wrists, gripping hard. Both women were staring down the hallway at their sons, wearing identical shocked expressions.
“Luke?” Rhaenyra’s voice sounded like someone was strangling her and she couldn’t seem to find anything else to say.
“I’m fine mother.” He said, taking a step towards her. She released Alicent’s shoulders and started towards her son.

A crowd had gathered in the hallway as the commotion roused everyone from their beds and every face that emerged confused and groggy, turned quickly to shock and horror once they saw Lucerys and the bandages that covered the right side of his face. They all watched the scene play out it relative silence, clearly not sure what to do or say while the Princess and the Queen faced off for the second time in as many days. Aemond could see their eyes shifting from Luke’s bandages to look straight at him and his mother, then looking back at Rhaenyra as if waiting to see what her response would be. Everyone had heard the Queen the previous day, demanding the eye of Lucerys Velaryon and they had all seen her take the knife and cut Rhaenyra’s arm. Luke had gone to bed with both his eyes intact, now he was missing one and most would likely assume Alicent had done it. Once the shock wore off, there was no telling what they might do, and Aemond glanced nervously from face to face, trying to read all of their expressions at once as he waited to see what Rhaenyra would do.

“You’re not going to hurt him are you?” Luke asked, moving so that his body was directly between her and Aemond. Rhaenyra stopped in her tracks, shocked yet again as she looked from her son, to Aemond, to Alicent, then back to Luke.
“I– I don’t–” She stuttered, took another step forward, then froze, looking back at Alicent again.
“Are you going to hurt the Queen?” Luke asked, taking another step towards her, but he still made sure that he stayed between her and Aemond.
“No, I’m not.” She said finally “I’m not going to hurt either one of them.” He waited for one long, painfully silent moment, then gave the tiniest nod in acknowledgement, but he still didn’t move from his protective position in front of Aemond. He turned his gaze from his mother to the onlookers who were standing in various states of confusion, meeting each of them with his one eyed glare, and one by one, they began to back away and it wasn’t long before the corridor was nearly empty. Even Rhaenyra, who was being led away by Laenor and Daemon, and his mother didn’t seem to know what to do, and simply stood there and watched with an expression of complete and utter confusion on her face.

Jacaerys was not so easily deterred by his little brother’s stare, however, and as soon as the majority of the crowd had dispersed, he made a beeline for Aemond. There was a look of pure rage on his face and Aemond shrank back from him even as Luke moved protectively between them just as he had done with his mother.
“No, Jace.” He said firmly, placing a hand on his brother’s chest while his other hand gripped Aemond’s arm protectively.
“But he–”
“Yes, he did, and we’re even now. It’s over.” Luke said “It’s done, and we’re not going to fight each other anymore. Let it go.” Jace opened his mouth like he was about to protest again, but Luke put a hand over his mouth and glared at him. “I said, let it go.”
“Fine.” Jace said, shoving Luke’s hand away and shooting Aemond a look that said he most certainly had not ‘let it go’ but he didn’t try to say anything else as Luke pulled Aemond back into his room and shut the door quickly behind them.

“That could have gone better” Luke said once they were alone again.
“Yeah, but it could have got a lot worse too, so I’ll count myself fortunate.” Aemond said wryly as he began to get dressed. “I’m kind of just glad we got that over with. I’d rather know where I stand with someone.”
“I’ll talk to him again later. I meant what I said Aemond, I’m not going to let anyone hurt you, not even my brother. I’ll even make him apologize to you too.”
“Why would you do that for me?”
“Because of what you said last night. I don’t want to be like our parents, and I don’t want to fight their wars for them. I want to be friends, and we can’t do that if we don’t make things right.”
A soft knock on the door startled them both, and they glanced at it, then back at each other with a certain amount of trepidation.
“Luke, Aemond, may I come in?” A soft voice said accompanied by another knock. He glanced at Aemond, who nodded slowly.
“Yes, you can come in.” Luke said

Though Laenor looked like he was still in the throes of grief at his sister’s passing, his expression was a bit less dead than it had been the previous day and he even managed the small ghost of a smile when Luke buried himself into his arms.
“I thought you might be mother, or Jace.” Luke said when he pulled out of the hug. “They both still seemed so angry.”
“Your mother is with Daemon, I told her to let me come and get you instead of her.” He said as he hold both of Luke’s hands in his own, then he looked up at Aemond with another sad smile. “I daresay you have had enough of her menacing stares for a lifetime Aemond, so I thought I might spare you that experience this time at least.”
“Why?” He asked, trying to comprehend why Laenor would even care about him enough to do that.
“Because my wife has enough temper for both of us, so I try to balance that out as much as I can.”
“No, I mean…why aren’t you angry at me?” He asked, looking down at the floor and fidgeting with the edge of his tunic, trying to hid the fact that his hands had begun to shake. “Shouldn’t you be angry? I hurt your son and Vhagar was your sister’s dragon.”

Laenor’s expression softened even further as he reached out a hand to Aemond, and when he tentatively took it, Laenor knelt down in front of him.
“Being angry at you for injuring Luke won’t give him back his eye, neither will scolding or threats of violence, and aside from that, it looks to me like the two of you have made amends, or at least begun to do so, yes?” Both boys looked at one another and then back to Laenor, nodding in unison. “Good, so that means that my anger would accomplish nothing productive at all, and as for Vhagar…well, how shall I put this?” He said and he looked down at the floor in thought for a moment before looking back up at him. “Aemond, who rode Vhagar before my sister?” He asked, and Aemond was so confused and startled by the question, it took him longer than it should have before he could come up with the answer.

“Um…Baelon the Brave.”
“Yes, your Grandfather. And who rode her before that?”
“Queen Visenya.”
“Exactly. You are the third person to claim her since her first rider. Of those three people, none of them have been the child of the previous rider, nor is that the case for most dragons and the riders that claim them. Laena claimed Vhagar, not because of birthright, but because she had the courage to do so, as did Baelon, as did you. A dragon is not a title or a family heirloom to be passed from parent to child. It is a living, thinking being and it chooses which riders to accept of it’s own free will. Anyone with the blood of the dragon and the courage to attempt it can claim a dragon, which gives you just as much right to claim Vhagar as Rhaena had. To be angry at you for that would be to treat Vhagar as nothing more than a mindless beast, and that is something I would never do. Do you understand me?” Aemond nodded, trying not to cry with relief. “Though I do think an apology might be in order for the insults you threw at my nieces, yes?”
“I understand.” Aemond said “And I’ll tell them I’m sorry too.”
“Good, and I will see that they apologize to you as well. I suspect that one thing we can all agree on is that everyone involved said and did things that they should not have, don’t you think?” He looked between the two boys and they nodded solemnly, and when Luke leaned in to hug his father again, Aemond felt the overwhelming urge to join in, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to do it.

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Aemond had much to think about once Luke left with his father, but he had little time to sort it out. Everyone seemed to be in quite a hurry to leave Driftmark and he supposed he couldn’t blame them, but he felt like he was being dragged along against his will as his mother directed the servants to gather all his belongings and she hurried Aemond along with nervous hands and tense words. The complete and utter confusion from that morning returned when they crossed paths with Luke, his cousins in tow, and they offered an apology for their behavior the previous night. He wasn’t entirely sure how genuine it was given the reluctant expressions on their faces, but he offered his apology for the insults nonetheless, and was encouraged to see a tiny hint of a smile on Rhaena’s face as she nodded her acceptance.

“What was all that about?” Alicent asked once Luke and the girls had left them and they were walking down a stretch of corridor alone.
“We apologized” He said with a shrug. “Ser Laenor told them they shouldn’t be angry at me for claiming Vhagar because anyone with Valyrian blood can claim any dragon no matter who the previous rider was, but he said I should apologize for insulting them, so I did.”
“And…Lucerys?” She asked “Was that why he was in your room this morning?”
“Yes, we both said we were sorry, then after you and Rhaenyra found us, Ser Laenor came to get Luke and he said he would talk to his nieces, and…that was it, I guess.”
“That’s it?” His mother echoed, the tone in her voice one of utter disbelief and confusion. “All is forgiven and forgotten?”
“Well, I don’t know about forgiven and forgotten, but…I don’t hate them anymore, and I don’t want to be angry at them forever.” Alicent seemed to have absolutely nothing to say to that and it was as if she had sunk into a dazed trance for the rest of their walk to the Maester’s chambers.
“Mother why don’t you go and see to father, I’ll be fine by myself.” Aemond said before pushing the door open and she simply nodded slowly and then walked off, still looking like her entire world had flipped on its head.

The Maester reluctantly agreed to let him fly home after carefully rewrapping the bandages on his face and when he joined his siblings on the walk out to where their dragons were waiting, Helaena greeted him with a smile he had never seen on her face before.
“The threads have begun to untangle brother. The dragons will have a different dance now.”
“What does that mean?” Aemond asked, glancing at Aegon, who just shrugged and rolled his eyes. Helaena gave no explanation for her cryptic words, not that she ever did, but where those riddles were usually couple with a blank expression and an ominous tone, these words were spoken with enthusiasm that was so uncharacteristic of his sister, Aemond couldn’t shake the feeling that something about this was monumentally important and he should pay attention to it. However, thoughts of riddles and prophesies were pushed to the back of his mind as soon as they reached the cliffs where their dragons waited for them.

Vhagar roared as he approached, and Aemond felt his heart leap in his chest at the sight of her. The thrill of claiming her had been so quickly tainted that he had almost forgotten it, but now it flooded back in full force and his face broke into a huge smile as he held out his hand to touch her outstretched nose.
“Dohaeris Vhagar” He said, and she knelt down on the sands of the beach and folded her wings, waiting for him to climb up into the saddle. Once he was situated and strapped in, Aemond surveyed Driftmark from his impressive vantage point atop his massive dragon. Aegon and Helaena were in the saddle too and Dreamfyre and Sunfyre seemed to sense that Vhagar was part of their little family now. They both roared together with Vhagar as the three of siblings gave their dragons the command to fly and they launched off the cliffs together and turned towards home.

Chapter Text

Aemond gripped the arms of the chair as Grand Maester Mellos slid the tiny blade under each of the stitches on his face and cut them open one at a time. He had been preparing himself for it to be painful, but instead it was just an unnerving tugging sensation as each bit of thread was pulled out of his skin and he had to resist the urge to flinch away with every ‘snip’.
“Just one more my prince.” Mellos said. He felt the last one being tugged out, then he let out a long breath and let his tense body relax as the Grand Maester dabbed along the scar with a damp cloth. He inspected the cloth when he was finished and gave a small nod before turning to rinse his hands in basin of water.
“What were you looking at? What’s on the cloth?” Aemond asked, leaning forward to try and get a look at it where it lay on the other side of the basin of water. The Maester eyed him for a moment, then picked it up to show him.
“Nothing at all my prince.” He said with a cryptic smile. “I was checking to make sure it came away clean, and it did.”
“What would it mean if it didn’t?”
“Well now, it would depend on if the cloth had blood on it or something else. Blood would mean that the wound had not fully healed, and if there was any kind of yellow or white substance on it, that would mean that the wound had festered and there is an infection.”
“What can you do when that happens?” He asked, unable to stop the cascade of questions once he’s started.
“There is not much to be done by that point I’m afraid. If the diseased flesh cannot be cut away and boiled wine has no success, there is nothing left in my power to do. It is in the hands of the gods after that.”
“So if it festers, that means the person will die?”
“There are rare occasions where that might not be the case, but typically yes, that is correct. But, not to worry my prince, there is no sign of infection here. Your wound has healed quite well and over time, the scar ought to shrink some as well.”
“Can I see?” Aemond asked quietly. The maester nodded and rummaged around for a moment before producing a looking glass.

His hands trembled as he held the mirror in front of his face and it took him a few seconds to steady himself before he was able to see his reflection clearly. The scar was still red and angry looking, but it didn’t look nearly as bad as it did with the stitches, and it was a massive improvement over the puffy swelling in those first few days. Now, it was more or less just a red, raised line that ran from a few inches above his eye brow to just over the crest of his cheekbone with tiny little pinpricks from the stitches on both sides all the way down. His eyebrow and eyelid were cut almost exactly in half and when he blinked, he could see the ruined eyelid try to match the movement of his good eye, but it stayed stubbornly drooped down over his empty eye socket, with only the barest twitch of movement. He reached up and touched a tentative finger to his eyelid and shuddered at the peculiar sensation of the skin giving way beneath his touch. Curiously, he lifted his eyelid up and stared at his empty eye socket in fascination.
“That’s not what I thought it would look like inside there.” He said and the Maester chuckled softly.
“You’re a rather inquisitive lad, my prince. Have you ever considered training as a Maester?” Aemond turned to look at him with a sheepish smile and shrugged before turning back to the mirror.
“No, I don’t think so. I’m just…curious and I like to learn, but I don’t think a life of service like that is for me.”
“Few boys your age ever do, but if you ever change your mind, they could use a bright mind like yours at the Citadel. You would keep them on their toes and run them ragged with questions, but I think it would do them some good.” Regardless of the fact that he had no intention of doing so, Aemond still felt a swell of pride that the Grand Maester thought he was intelligent enough to be a Maester.

Any response he might have had was lost when Alicent burst into the room looking absolutely frantic. As soon as she saw Aemond sitting there with the mirror still in his hand, she sank down beside him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.
“There you are sweet boy.” She said, planting a kiss on his cheek. “When the servants said you’d gone to see the Maester, I feared you were hurt, is everything alright?”
“I’m fine mother, I just came to get the stitches taken out. I didn’t mean to worry you.” He said as he set the mirror down and turned to face her. She flinched at the sight of him, and though she was clearly trying to keep her face calm, she had not succeeded.
“It that all that needs to me done Maester?” She asked after he assured her once again the he was absolutely fine. “Is he free to return to all of his activities?”
“Yes, I think it would be fine for him to train and ride again. The wound is closed fully now and it shouldn’t need bandaging anymore either.”
“Well that’s good news. Thank you Maester.” Allicent said, and then guided him out of the room and took him straight to her own chambers.

She rummaged around in a drawer for a moment and then came to sit next to him with a smile on her face that looked rather forced.
“I had this made a few days ago, and now that the wound has healed you can wear it.” She held out a leather eyepatch and when he didn’t immediately grab it an put it on, she simply stood up and walked around behind him and situated the patch over his empty eye socket and then smoothed his hair down around it before tying the strings behind his head.
The eyepatch was immediately irritating and uncomfortable, and he truly didn’t want to wear it, but now that it was in place, his mother finally stopped averting her eyes and looked straight at him. Aemond felt like his heart had sunk down all the way to his toes, though he would never admit how much it hurt him that she couldn’t look at his uncovered face. Was she ashamed of him now? Did she not want anyone to see his disfigured face?
“Thank you mother” He said with what he hoped was a reassuring smile, shoving those unasked questions down down down where he didn’t have to think about them. He couldn’t ask her, he didn’t want to hear her answer, because he was fairly certain he already knew what it was, and hearing her say it would just make it hurt worse, and he would have to deal with her guilt the moment she realized how much pain she had caused him. Instead, he just resigned himself to wearing the eyepatch no matter how irritating it was so he wouldn’t have to make his mother or anyone else uncomfortable with the sight of his disfigured face.

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Aemond’s heart pounded violently in his chest as he willed his feet to continue walking towards the training yard even though he wanted nothing more than to turn and run the other direction. The Maester may have deemed it safe for him to train again, but that didn’t mean that he was ready to subject himself to the harsh criticism of Ser Criston Cole. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to just pick up where he’d left off and continue his lessons as if nothing had happened, but he had a terrible feeling that Cole would expect him to do just that. It was more than just learning to deal with his left side being completely blind, as he had been dismayed to discover in the first few days after his injury, he could no longer tell how close or far away something was. The Maester had called it ‘depth perception’ and apparently the loss of an eye meant that he no longer that; a fact that had made itself most obvious when he nearly tumbled down the stairs on several occasions. It also didn’t help that his new eyepatch was a source of constant irritation on the still tender scar, every moment was a test to his resolve to wear it, but the memory of the way his mother had avoided looking straight at him was just enough to stop him from ripping it off and burning it.

Ser Criston barely acknowledged him when he entered the training yard, only gestured at the rack of practice swords and watched him with a critical expression on his face.
“Begin drills with the practice dummy Prince Aemond.” He said and turned back to instructing Aegon, who looked thoroughly bored as always; it was a miracle he had turned up in the first place. Aemond chose a wooden practice sword from the rack and walked over to the straw man that was furthest away from Ser Criston and took an experimental swing. The point of the sword barely grazed the chest of the straw man and Aemond cursed under his breath; he had been so sure he was close enough for a proper strike, but he’d judged the distance wrong. He glanced around to see if anyone had witnessed his failure and he found Ser Criston’s impassive gaze fixed on him.

The rest of the training session didn’t fare much better, and by the time the session was over, Aemond just wanted to run away. He was irritated at his own incompetence and frustrated at the fact that he basically had to start over at the very beginning with the easiest drills, and the more he worked, the more uncomfortable the eyepatch became. The leather was hot and irritating on his skin and the band that tied it on his head seemed to grow tighter with every passing minute. He ripped it off as soon as he made it back to his own quarters and threw it across the room, the angry, frustrated tears he had been holding back now trickling down his cheek.

He had stubbornly held back his tears and refused to let himself cry ever since they had returned home, but now it seemed the dam had broken. Tears dripped from his single eye and he was startled to discover that his maimed eye socket could still produce tears too. He had cried once the night he was injured, but between the stitches and the bandages, he had only noticed an uncomfortable stinging sensation. Now, the moisture seemed to pool inside his empty socket and then overflow when there was nowhere else for it to go. It was an unnerving sensation and that only made him cry harder to discover one more thing his injury had so drastically altered about his body. He just wanted to feel like himself again, but right now he just felt broken and useless.

A soft knock on the door startled him out of his pity party, and he was about to tell whoever it was to just go away, when Helaena’s soft voice came from outside the closed door.
“It’s only me brother.” She said, and when he let her in, she swept into the room as if she didn’t even notice he’d been crying.
“Did you need something Helaena?” He asked, not sure exactly why she was here considering she usually had a lesson with her Septa at this hour.
“You should go and see him” She said
“Go and see who?” He asked, though he was fairly certain he knew exactly who she was talking about.
“The only one who can truly understand what you’re going through right now.” She told him with a soft smile. The specifics of her description caught him off guard. He had not thought of it in those terms, but it was true. No doubt Lucerys had begun to try and navigate the difficulties of life with one eye, assuming his wound was healed enough for him to train again, he would also be stumbling his way through sword drills, trying to get used to the lack of depth perception and how to navigate his blind side. He wondered if Luke had also discovered the same thing that Aemond had about crying, but he hoped that was not the case, because it would mean that his nephew was as miserable as he was, and it was all Aemonds fault.

It had never occurred to him how much the loss of an eye would affect a person, and he couldn’t help but feel guilty. Obviously, he knew Luke had maimed him first, but Luke had been acting out of fear for his brother in the heat of the moment and hadn’t really meant to hurt Aemond so badly, but Aemond had done it intentionally. He had wanted Luke to hurt the same way he did that night, and even though he regretted immediately, and even though they had apologized and forgiven each other that night, right now, faced with the long lasting repercussions of it, Aemond felt like the worst kind of monster.
“I don’t think he would want to see me.” He said, staring down at the floor. Helaena stepped close and knelt down to pick up a spider from the floor.
“You cannot know that if you don’t ask him.” She said, half to the spider and half to him. “The threads have begun to unravel, do not let them tangle up again.”

“You said that before, the morning we left Driftmark. What does it mean?” Helaena froze for a moment, as if she had revealed something she shouldn’t have.
“I do not know yet if he is ready to bear the weight of it.” She said to the spider that was now crawling in and around her fingers and across her hands as if she was asking it for guidance. A haunted look had come over her face and when she finally turned to look at him again, she actually made direct eye contact, something he had almost never seen her do.
“The way to mend the rift has been set before us.” She said, and though Aemond had no idea what any of this meant, something tugged at him, screamed at him that this was important and he needed to listen.
“How is it to be mended Helaena?” He asked, and she reached forward and brushed her fingertips over the scar on his face. His body went rigid all over as he looked into her violet eyes and he felt a shiver down his spine as she spoke.
“Sapphire and dragonglass.”

Chapter Text

Vhagar roared with pleasure when she saw him coming and the guard that mother had insisted on sending with him looked as if he might soil his smallclothes at the sight of the massive dragon. The man had surely seen many dragons in his lifetime of serving the Targaryen family, but all other dragons paled in comparison to her. Aemond felt his heart leap with joy and excitement as he climbed down off his horse, handed the reins to his guard, and ran to greet her.
“I’ve missed you.” He said, reaching out a hand to touch her. “No one would let me come see you until the Maester gave the okay.” Vhagar stared at him intently, and after a moment, she moved her massive head forward to meet his hand that seemed so tiny next to her. She blew out a breath at him and the hot air that came from her sent shivers down his body while also seeming to ignite a fire in his heart. This is what he was meant for, he thought, and began to climb up the ropes that hung from her saddle.
“I’ll be back Ser. No need to wait here though, just watch the skies, she’s big enough that you’ll see her with plenty of time to meet me before we land.” The man nodded, still staring with wide, frightened eyes as Vhagar. “You’ll probably want to take a few steps back too.” Aemond said with a grin, and as soon as the man was at a safe distance, he gave the command.
“Soves Vhagar!”

Once Dragonstone came into view over the horizon, Vhagar flew without him having to give any kind of command and Aemond realized with a start that this was where her egg had hatched almost 200 years ago. She seemed to know the place deep in her bones and the recognition echoed through their bond as they decended to the Dragonmount that Aemond had heard and read about, but never actually seen. Unlike the dragonpit in King’s Landing, the dragonmount was large enough for Vhagar to land on and when Aemond climbed down from her saddle, Luke was standing several yards away with his arms crossed over his chest.
“I was wondering when you would finally show up.” He said with a smirk, once Aemond was in earshot. He had expected to see Luke with some type of eyepatch or maybe bandages still, but he wasn’t at all prepared for Luke to have his injury completely uncovered for all to see. It made him strangely jealous to see him with his head held high, not at all concerned with covering the scar and empty eye socket. Aemond wished he could be that confident and uncaring.
“You were waiting for me?” He asked
“Well, not exactly waiting, I just figured you would come eventually.”
“Really? Because I’m not even totally sure why I was coming, I just…did.”

“So, you just came with no reason at all?” Luke asked, and Aemond looked down at his feet, trying to think of the least embarrassing way to say his first reason for coming, and debating if he even wanted to say anything about his second reason, he didn’t even understand what Helaena’s cryptic remarks meant, so how was he supposed to expect Luke to understand?
“Well, not exactly. I wanted someone to spar with.” He said finally and Luke looked puzzled.
“So, you’re telling me you couldn’t find a single person in the whole of King’s Landing for that?”
“I could, but not one that wouldn’t gawk at me and belittle me for having to start all over again with training.” Luke’s confused expression quickly morphed into one of sympathy and he reached out and took his hand and led him over to sit on a pile of boulders and sat down next to him. Aemond was mortified to discover that he had begun to cry at the memory of his abysmal training session and the guilt he had felt then came rushing back too with Luke’s maimed face in front of him like a mirror.
“I started training again a couple days ago.” Luke said softly “It was awful, not that I was any good before, but, yeah– it will definitely take some getting used to.”
“I’m sorry” Aemond whispered, and he took Luke’s hand and squeezed it. “I’m so sorry.”
“You’ve already said that, there’s no need to say it again.” Luke said, squeezing Aemond’s hand in return. “I wish I could take it back too, but we can’t.”
“I know, I just…”
“No, no more apologies, no more feeling guilty, and no more feeling sorry for me or yourself. This is the way things are and we have to figure it out one way or another, okay?”

Aemond nodded and wiped his sleeve across his face, annoyed at himself for crying again, and crying in front of Luke no less. He hesitated for a moment, then slid the eyepatch off and wiped the tears there too, then he stared down at it in his hand for a long moment not sure what to do or say next.
“Is that annoying to wear?” Luke’s casual question almost made him jump, surprised at the sudden change of topic. He wanted to say ‘yes, it makes me want to claw my skin off’ but he knew Luke’s next question would be ‘why wear it then?’ and Aemond didn’t want to explain all that, so he just shrugged in answer and kept staring down at his lap, fidgeting with the ties of the patch. Luke studied his face for a long moment and whatever he saw there seemed to stop whatever questions he might have had, and instead he simply stood up and held out his hand to Aemond.
“Where are we going?” He asked, hesitantly
“To the training yard.” Luke said, as if it was incredibly obvious “You said you wanted to train right?”
“Yes, but…can’t we go somewhere no one will see.” Aemond mumbled as he looked down at the ground, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. When he finally looked back up and met Luke’s gaze, he was relieved to see that his nephew wasn’t laughing at him, in fact, his expression was almost pained. He started to say something, then closed his mouth and looked down at the ground for a moment before finally looking back up.
“Wait, here, I’ll be back.” Luke said and then raced off towards the castle, then returned a few minutes later with two wooden practice swords.

They practiced together for hours and were so focused that they barely even noticed when the sun began to set, and they might have gone on practicing into the night if the servant hadn’t come to fetch them for dinner. Aemond suddenly became rather apprehensive at the thought of dinner with Rhaenyra’s side of the family and spent most of the walk up to the castle feeling like he might faint.
“What if I just…flew home instead?” His voice sounded pathetic and small, and the servant looked a bit apprehensive, pausing and glancing at Luke before answering.
“Her Highness has already had a raven sent to King’s Landing to inform the King and Queen that you will return in the morning. She said that it would not be safe for you to return tonight. It will be dark soon and there’s a storm on the horizon.”
“Oh, well, alright then.” Luke clapped a reassuring hand on his shoulder and the two of them followed the servant up the winding pathway to the castle. Aemond’s heart raced faster and faster the closer they got, and Luke’s arm around him was the only thing keeping him from trying to make a run for it and flying home anyways.
“They’ll be on their best behavior, I promise.” Luke told him once they were inside and out of earshot of the servant, who had left to return the practice swords to the training yard, and he took Aemond’s hand and dragged him into his own room and shut the door.

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There was a clean tunic laid out for Aemond on the bed and he guessed it must belong to Jace since they were so close in age and Luke’s clothes would be too small for him. The tunic was in Targaryen colors and Aemond couldn’t help but feel a certain thrill of pride when he put them on. He loved his mother dearly, but he often wished she didn’t always force him to wear Hightower green. No matter that his father barely gave him the time of day, Aemond was still his blood and theirs was the blood of the dragon. He was proud of that, and often wished he could show it.
“I don’t think I’ve ever worn Targaryen colors that I can remember.” He said sadly once he had put the tunic on and stood in front of the mirror. “I wish I could wear them more.”
“Why don’t you?” Luke asked
“Because mother doesn’t like it…in fact, I think it scares her. I asked for red and black once when the palace tailor was measuring me for new clothes and when she said no, it was like she was terrified, then Helaena started muttering about ‘spools of green and black’. It was very…odd, and I just never asked again because it upset her so much. I guess it makes a little more sense now.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just what my mother said to me about ‘placing their wars on our shoulders’. She never really explained what she meant by that, but I think it has something to do with how Grandsire is always going on about what will happen when Rhaenyra takes the throne.”
“What does he say will happen?” Luke asked, and something in his face told Aemond he already had a pretty good idea, but didn’t want to hear it confirmed.
“He says that Rhaenyra will put us all to the sword to secure her claim.”

The silence stretched between them with Luke neither confirming nor denying the accusation and Aemond could see the conflict in his expression.
“You don’t seem particularly surprised.” Aemond said finally.
“She wouldn’t do that.” Luke said finally “I know she wouldn’t kill her own siblings but…she hasn’t exactly given your mother any reason to believe that she wouldn’t. Especially after…” He gestured vaguely at his face and then bit his lip and looked down at his lap, his cheeks burning red.
“I wondered how much you remembered from that night.” Aemond said quietly and Luke looked up at him as he wrapped his arms around himself, a haunted expression on his face.
“I didn’t remember anything but the pain at first, but over the next couple of days, it was like I’d forgotten a horrible nightmare and the details of it came back to me little by little. It was awful, and she was cruel to say those things; and not just what she said after you cut me, everything before that too. She knows that now, I made sure of it.”

“How did you do that?”
“A couple of days after we got home, which was about the time I remembered everything she said, I asked father to take me back to Driftmark to spend some time with Grandmother and Grandfather. I was so upset and so angry I couldn’t even explain why I wanted to leave, I just couldn’t be here with her and I didn’t know what to say. I could barely even look at her, so I left and didn’t come back until I could think straight and decide what I wanted to say to her. Father and I talked a lot during that time, I was trying to understand how she could say such horrible things to her own brother, and father said something that I don’t think I’ll ever forget, and it helped me to understand and to know what to say to her.”
“What was that?”
“He said ‘your mother loves her children, and that is both her greatest strength, and her greatest fault all at once’” The simple truth of the statement made Aemond shudder at the memory of Rhaenyra comforting her injured son while spitting pure venom at her brother and step mother at the same time.
“So what did you say to her when you came home?”
“A great many things, but mostly I just told her she needed to do whatever she could possibly do to make it right, or I would never speak to her again.”

A knock on the door startled them out of their conversation and the door opened to reveal a very nervous looking Rhaenyra.
“Mother” Luke said curtly and Aemond was shocked at the tone in his voice. It was one thing for Luke to tell him he had been upset with his mother, but it was quite another to actually witness the way their dynamic had so drastically changed. The Lucerys he remembered was always clinging to his mother’s skirts, but now it was as if he couldn’t bear to be in the same room with her.
“Aemond, I would like to…speak with you. If I could.” She said quietly, looking more vulnerable than he had ever seen her and he could actually see the resemblance between her and Luke for the first time in her guilty expression. If he hadn’t been so apprehensive, he might have laughed.
“Yes, we can.” He agreed and Rhaenyra seemed to relax by the tiniest fraction. She stepped further into the room and Aemond wasn’t quite sure what he should do, so he just remained where he was, sitting beside Luke on the bed.
“Do you want me to stay?” He asked and Aemond nodded, keeping hold of Luke’s hand. Rhaenyra’s cheeks flushed pink with what he was fairly certain was shame. Clearly the fact that her little brother didn’t want to be left alone with her made her uncomfortable and Aemond decided that the fact that she was aware he felt that way was a good sign. It seemed Luke’s chastisement had been quite thorough indeed.

At their invitation, Rhaenyra sat gingerly on the edge of the bed, turned slightly to face the two of them, sitting cross legged and side by side.
“Remember what you promised mother.” Luke said and he fixed her with a stern glare while still holding Aemond’s hand tightly. “No excuses.” Rhaenyra nodded in acknowledgement and it seemed she wanted to reach out to him, but stopped herself, clasping her hands tightly in her lap instead.
“Aemond I wanted to apologize for my behavior towards you that night at Driftmark. The things I said to you and your mother were unforgivable. I won’t make excuses, not just because I promised I wouldn’t, but because there are none. No matter the offense, what I was suggesting be done to you and your mother is so heinous I could not blame you if you wished to never speak to me again, nor could I blame you if you cannot forgive me or even accept my apology. Regardless of that, I do apologize. I am so sorry for what I said to you and Alicent and I would do anything in my power to right this wrong and to try and make amends, and if you would have me, I would like to try and be the sister I should have been to you all along.”

The silence stretched between them for a long time after Rhaenyra gave her apology and Aemond kept his gaze fixed on his own hand resting on his knee, Luke’s fingers still laced between his for support. He searched for the right words to say, not sure if he was ready to forgive or even accept the apology with the memory still so fresh in his mind of Rhaenyra’s cold gaze and harsh tone coupled with the sound of his mother’s tears and frightened pleading.
“I don’t know,” He said finally. “I don’t know if I can forgive you yet. I still have nightmares about that night, and I think my mother does too even though she won’t admit it.”
“I’m so sorry Aemond.” Rhaenyra said, and when he looked up at her, he could see tears in her eyes that were beginning to slip down her cheeks. “I did not expect your forgiveness easily, but regardless, I meant what I said, I will do whatever I can to make this right.”
“Will you apologize to Mother?” He asked, and Rhaenyra nodded, then hesitated for a moment before pulling out a folded letter from the pocket of her dress.
“This was to be sent out in the morning, but when you arrived, I thought perhaps you could give it to her in person.” Aemond reached out and took the letter from her with a small nod and when he looked down, he was surprised to see that rather than being addressed to ‘Her Grace, Queen Alicent’ or even just ‘Alicent’ the letter had the words ‘My Dearest Alicent’ written in a flowing script. He looked up at Rhaenyra and she blushed slightly under his gaze and the surprised stare of her son as well, who had also read the name on the letter.

Aemond set the letter on the table beside the bed and then looked back at Rhaenyra and he could see the faintest glimmer of hope in her eyes along with all the guilt from before. He looked back at Luke, who gave him a small smile and a nod. When Aemond looked back at Rhaenyra, he let go of Luke and slowly extended his hand towards her and she reached out to clasp it tightly, her eyes welling with tears again.
“I think I would like to try too…sister.” He said, his voice timid and cautious, but also hopeful. It wasn’t forgiveness or even an end to the animosity between the two factions of their family, not yet, but perhaps someday it could be.