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madame-fear · 7 months

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

[ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟎𝟖 | 𝐎𝐃𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑𝐒 ]

★ amira speaks! : things are slightly modified/altered from the original series! — summary : [ — ✧ request ] after many dreaded attempts, you manage to carry future heirs to the Throne; but not in the best conditions, as you are filled with stress at the current political situation that will involve the two Velaryon boys. One in particular: your dearest Lucerys. — word count : 2.4k

— pairing : lucerys velaryon x betrothed!reader — genre : slight angst at the unrequited love, maybe. in general terms, fluff.

ೃ⁀➷ chapter one ೃ⁀➷ chapter two ೃ⁀➷ chapter three ೃ⁀➷ chapter four ೃ⁀➷ chapter five ೃ⁀➷ chapter six ೃ⁀➷ chapter seven ೃ⁀➷ chapter eight

A full moons after you officially married Prince Jacaerys, both of you did vigorous — and exhausting, for you — efforts to get you with child, and receive the very first future heir to the Throne. Most of the attempts were to no avail, only to find the deception of not carrying a child whenever your moonblood arrived.

But, after many futile attemps — and several prayers to the Seven —, you managed to finally be with child. Eight full moons had passed ever since a maester had informed you, that all the sickening symptoms you had meant that you would finally be able to give your Lord Husband an heir. Being a future Queen was most certainly a cumbersome task, and onerous; but, it was one you were willing to properly fulfill. The news of your pregnancy were a complete delight to the members of your Houses, as well as it was rapidly spread two and a half full moons after receiving the news, especially amongst other well-known Houses. Some Lords and Ladies were delighted with the news, whilst other simply sneered in disgust at it, as your Husband and his two young Velaryon brothers were considered “bastards”.

Dragging the black ink-stained crow feather through a paper, you sat on your chambers, writing a note back to the members of your own House as you usually did; informing them how things were in Dragonstone, and how you were doing, especially while you were with child. Lately, it hadn’t been the best of times for House Targaryen, and the scent of imminent chaos and war could be felt throughout the entire Westeros, and further, the moment King Viserys I died a short while ago; immediatly leaving the Throne to Rhaenyra’s half-brother, Aegon II.

Both Velaryon boys spent their time attending the Black Council meetings, now that their mother would have to fight her birthright place as the true heir to the Iron Throne plus had to organise what strategies they would use against the Greens; and on the other hand, you were meant to rest and try not to stress during the entirety of your pregnancy to avoid any inconveniences.

However, unlike Jacaerys that was now most of the time by his mother’s side and in the Black Council meetings, Lucerys always managed to sneak away whenever he had the chance, and check on you and the babe, even bringing some things he knew you would be craving, or small little gifts merely to see a smile grow vast on your lips. As time passed, and your relationship became closer, a sense of guilt overwhelmed your mind whenever you found yourself wondering... What if you had been married to Lucerys, rather than Jacaerys?

You found yourself coming to terms with Jacaerys, as your marriage was only a convenient arrangement for both your Houses, and became good allies as well as friends; but, the young future Lord of Driftmark made you feel different than any other boy could ever make you feel.

In a way, he filled the role of how a proper Husband should be: attentive, caring, gentle, loving, protective, and delicate. The mere thought of him being betrothed, or even fancying another girl made you sick in the stomach, knowing that situation would probably come soon, but you had to accept it.

Your eyes stared outside the window of your private quarters, fidgeting with the ruby that hung low from the Valyrian steel necklace Luke had gifted you for your wedding, and with your other hand, you caressed your nearly fully swollen stomach. A soft knock was heard twice hitting against the wooden door, bringing you back to reality. Craning your head to the door, where the knock had been heard. “Come in!” you shouted, for the other person behind the door to hear it.

A little grin was formed on your face as the door swinged open, the corner of your lips dancing upwards. You knew who surely was the one knocking on your door, and you were right as always. “Hello, Luke.” you greeted at the young Prince, who closed the door behind of him quietly. A sheepish little smile appeared on his own lips, accompanied by a faint rosy fluster. For some reason, the sight of you carrying a child was most delightful for him, as he knew you would be the sweetest mother ever. In a way, you reminded him of his own mother, and he was willing to take proper care of both you and the babe.

With soft footsteps, the Prince approached you, placing his hand on your shoulder and lovingly giving you a friendly peck on your forehead. “Hello, (y/n). And hello, little babe.” his free hand travelled to caress your stomach, smiling down at it. A quiet giggle spurred from your lips. The interaction he had with your unborn babe was rather sweet and unique, ever since you found out you were with child.

Jacaerys decided to take good care of you, and became rather protective, making sure all your needs were met; but Lucerys seemed to have more of a “personal bond” with the babe. Luke always talked to him, or her, when you spent time together, caressed your stomach, made you questions about how it felt, and spent time more frequently than he used to when you weren’t carrying the child. Practically, he was glued to your side the entirety of the days. In a way, it felt comforting to you.

“May I take a seat by your side? I hope I am not disturbing anything important.” he inquired curiously, making you immediatly point to a nearby chair you had in your chambers, as Rhaenyra often visited you to chat together and bring you things, just like Luke did. “Of course, take that seat. And don’t worry about it, you could never disturb.” the young Velaryon seemed to not waste time when being with you, acting like an eager puppy, and rapidly took the chair you pointed at him just to place it in front of you, and sit.

As he did so, you slightly moved away the letter you were writing, shifting in your own seat to adjust your position, grunting hushedly in the progress. Being nearly due to giving birth, possibly in any moment, the feeling of the babe inside of you weighed constantly made you feel rather uncomfortable.

Being the rather attentive person he was, especially with you, Luke noticed immediatly the uncomfortable flinch on your features, and the huff escaping from you involuntarily. “Does it hurt? Y-You know, to... Carry such heavy weight inside of you?” he asked shyly, beginning to fidget with his fingers. You smiled at him, stroking your swollen stomach.

“Hurt? Not really. But it does feel rather uncomfortable to constantly carry a big weight that squeezes your organs, especially when the babe decides to move or kick.” at the last part, you chuckled at your own comment. Lucerys chuckled quietly along you, deciding to stare at your face for a longer period of time than usual, allowing to analyse how pretty you looked. Ever since he met you, he could never help but wonder to himself as well, how things would have turned if his mother decided to marry Jace to Baela, and you to him.

Leaning his body closer, the Prince extended his hand to caress you stomach rather sweetly. “Have you decided a name for the babe already?” as he asked, his green eyes hoovered briefly on your stomach, seemingly pleased with how you looked as a future mother. He was certain you would be as sweet yet fierce as his very own mother. You smiled at him, looking down at your stomach.

“Well, we do have several ideas, but none is established yet.” you began, “We might call him Baelon if the babe is a boy. Or perhaps, even... We could name him Lucerys.” you teased slightly, having considered naming your child his own name. His stare moved to look at you, noticing a faint rosy tint spreading on his cheeks, along a sheepish smile growing. “And if the babe is a girl, we will most likely call her Visenya.” you finished speaking. Initially, there were many options you had decided for the name of your child, whether it was a boy or a girl, but you now felt most confident on how the child would be called.

“Mother would be delighted if she has a granddaughter named Visenya.” he retorted, continuing to gently caress your stomach. His voice was rather sweet and hushed. “All the names you thought for the babe are rather lovely, actually. You must be thrilled.” nodding in agreement as you were more than thrilled for the occasion, you vastly grinned at him, placing your hand on top of his. His cheeks boiled at the gentle warmth of your touch. He wished he could feel it more often, or even, be able to hold your hand and love you the way you deserved to be properly loved.

You had even managed to forget about the probably upcoming war — as much as his mother wished there were none —, and the nerves he had in each Black Council meeting. Though, you could sense there was something wrong with him. Of course, you knew he must had a great burden as the future heir to Driftmark in general, and especially these last few days that he had to attend every council meeting to discuss what his mother would have to do to win back her birthright of getting the Iron Throne. But this felt different, as if there was something else anguishing with worry.

“Luke,” you began speaking, looking at the young Prince who continued to rub his hand on your stomach lovingly. “Yes?” lucerys retorted back, lifting his stare to you, only to leisurely back his hand away from your stomach, and lean against his own chair. “Is something the matter?” at your inquiry, he furrowed his eyebrows slightly. Lucerys could try and hide his worry to not burden you with something else, but you knew right away when someone was going through anything, and when they lied to you.

You knew right away he would start protesting against your statements, to which you continued. “Your entire face screams worry, so don’t you dare lie to me. I can tell there might be something you aren’t telling me. What is it?” you didn’t wish to sound rather stern with him, but you did hope that he would get it off his chest, rather than keep it to himself, now knowing that you did know he must have been feeling off.

A small sigh escaped from him. It was useless to keep quiet about it, not only because you were rather good when feeling someone being discomforted with anything, but as well because you were the most attentive person he had known, and you would surely understand him. “Well,” he began, descending his stare to fidget with his fingers; his hands resting on his lap uneasily.

“Mother informed me I should go to Storm’s End in the morrow, while Jace will go to Winterfell so we can have more allies on our side.” he explained. His hands quivered very slightly, and as much as he always desired to show a brave façade in front of you, there was no point in doing so anymore. From what you had heard, Storm’s End had a quite harsh atmosphere, and you weren’t exactly keen when it came to House Baratheon — they weren’t exactly of your liking, but in difficult times such as these, differences had to be set apart.

“I see,” you responded simply, as if nothing else needed to be explained. “And you must be nervous about it, yes?” you continued to ask, trying to confirm your suspicions. The young Velaryon nodded in response. “Yes. I do not wish to disappoint mother, but... I-I’m afraid, (y/n). Quite honestly.” a slight sense of shame was brought to him upon confessing how he actually felt, being plastered on his face as a reddish fluster; but he knew you were never one to judge him, but merely comfort him. One of your hands was extended towards his own, gently taking it, and rubbing his velvety skin with the tip of your thumb. The thought of having him go to Storm’s End by himself just to convince more allies to get on your side, did frighten you deep down inside.

“Don’t be. I’m certain your mother could never be disappointed of you,” with your hand rubbing his, tilting your head slightly to the side, you looked deep into his eyes with a reassuring smile. “I have full faith in you, and the Seven will be by your side the entire time. I know, this alliance will be the most benefitial for our family, and it will be all thanks to both Jace and you.” as you spoke, you tried to calm yourself. It was nothing too serious, nothing bad would happen... It would be a short political trip. What could possibly go wrong?

“You are such a delightful young Prince and future Lord, I’m certain Lord Baratheon would be thrilled to host you and Arrax. Besides, it will only be a quick, short trip. All you have to do, is do whatever your mother tells you to do as soon as you arrive there.” a sheepish smile was formed on his rosy, plushy lips. The warm touch of your hand was reassuring enough, even to boost his very own confidence; you definitely had your way with words, just to get inside deep into his heart with your charm. “You’re most probably right, (y/n).” perhaps, you were right, and Luke knew that as soon as he returned to Dragonstone he would think it was just a silly brief thing that scared the soul out of him solely because it was his first time doing such things.

“I don’t want you to worry, Luke. You should probably rest.” you reassured, continuing to smile at him tenderly. He nodded in agreement, feeling rather exhausted.

It would be something quick, painless, and hopefully... Nothing bad would come out of it, except maybe the fact that a wellknown House such as the Baratheons would turn down the proposal of joining your allies. Or at least, you simply prayed to the Seven he would return home safe.

But perhaps, you had spoken a bit too earlier than you should have.

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madame-fear · 6 months

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

[ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟎 | 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐒𝐖𝐀𝐍 ]

★ amira speaks! : beforehand i apologise for the sensitive content/topics in this chapter, i only added it for the angst of the plot. feel free to ignore this chapter if you dislike this type of content. — summary : [ — ✧ request ] — word count : 6.0k

— pairing : lucerys velaryon x betrothed!reader — genre : initial angst at Jace’s unrequited love, maybe. in general terms, fluff. this chapter mostly contains angst.

ೃ⁀➷ check the TPOL masterlist!

TW | mentions of near death, birth, blood, miscarriage(s), self-deprecation.

“Just a few more pushes,”

A helpless groan escaped from you. Several strands of your already sweaty hair covered your face, swaying very slightly as you heavily panted against them. Your trembling hand was held by Rhaenyra rather tightly, while her other hand soothingly brushed the bits of hair that covered your eyes, caressing your head as well. Towels tinted in your own blood were all across the bed where you were giving birth to your firstborn, and the tension in the atmosphere worsened with the passing of seconds.

Childbirth could be rather difficult and dangerous, too, and she like no other understood the situation you were in. The situation wasn’t any easier considering it was unknown whether Lucerys had survived Storm’s End or not, with her being his dearing mother, and you being his treasured, closest friend. “I-I can’t do this—” you panted out, a desperate look covered your expression, as you craned your head to stare at Rhaenyra in a feeble manner. She shook her head, “You can do this, sweet girl. We’re here for you.” she reassured, cooing. Jace, much like Rhaenyra, held the back of your head, stroking it with the tip of his thumb to offer you some comfort, feeling nervous and preoccupied himself as well for your safety.

The young maidens that aided you during the birth of your child seemed rather nervous, noticing how grimly in pain you seemed. A breathless groan escaped from you, as the pants became more huffed with the passing of the seconds. A rather intense cramping pain struck you in the abdomen, even being felt in the lower stomach; it felt as if all of your organs were pressured and being squeezed right out of you. Clenching your jaw, a growl escaped deeply from your throat as you began trying to push harder.

You felt as if you could pass out right there from the way your head spun around dizzily, at any moment. The blood loss you suffered was exaggerated, and concerning. The bedsheets below you had turned into a harrowing dark shade of red for those surrounding you. One of the maidens was positioned between your legs, to which your inner thighs had some dried drops of your blood, and she raised her sight towards Rhaenyra. “I can see the head of the babe already, your Grace.” she remarked, as Rhaenyra gave her a single nod with her head, sheepishly grinning before turning back to you.

“The babe is almost out, you can do it.” she kept reassuring. But there was something that felt off. Perhaps it was your intuition that sensed something was not right, perhaps it was the built-up stress taking an extreme toll on your body, or even… It was the thought of what could’ve happened with the young Velaryon Prince in Storm’s End, that still roamed subconsciously in your mind, eating every last remaining bit of your mental stability in a heinous manner. Every time you reminded yourself of the current situation the cramping pain kicked harder, making you try to hold back a few screams of dread, but miserably failing.

A tear appeared at the corner of your eye, threatening to fall at any given chance as you let your head drop dead against the pillow, shaking your head desperately. “No, no…” you mumbled out, feeling the tear run across your cheek, leaving a hot trail behind. The pain was nearly unbearable, you could barely hold yourself anymore. The platinum haired woman raised your hand to her lips, softly pressing a lip against your knuckles as she caressed your skin with the tip of her thumb. “I know how it feels, my love,” she spoke in a hushed tone, that as well indicated worry behind of it, noticing the amount of blood you lost. She tried to cling to the last bits of hope she had inside of her, but she knew what that could possibly mean. And it was grisly to even allow that thought to slip inside her mind.

Rhaenyra didn’t wish for you to endure the pain she went through, when she suffered a miscarriage with Visenya.

“But the babe is almost out, you have to do this.” the baby that was half his, or her way out from your insides felt like a heavy weight, as if the child didn’t seem to do it’s own efforts to come out from you. A sigh escaped from you, as your quivering arms propped your body slightly by the elbows to adjust your position. Your hand tightened it’s grip to that of Rhaenyra’s, and you once again tried using all the last remains of strength you had to force the baby out of you.

In a swift movement, the door of your private quarters was opened in a haste. A maiden rushed inside, approaching Rhaenyra. You were too distraught pushing your baby out to even care, but the Targaryen princess raised her sight with furrowed eyebrows to stare at the maiden, whom had leaned her body closer to Rhaenyra’s, whispering in her ear.

“A small dragon has been seen approaching Dragonstone, your Grace. It might be Prince Lucerys,”

Those words of her were barely distuinguishable to you, feeling drowsy enough as you felt the babe’s heavy weight leisurely coming out of you, along the slick liquids of your placenta. Her blue eyes widened very slightly at the words of the young maiden, staring at her with a look of both disbelief, and relief. The maiden, without saying another word, rushed back outside of your private quarters, discreetly working as someone who passed the news to the Queen while she was focused on helping you with your birth; with the birth of the future heir to the Iron Throne.

“Half body out, my Princess.” the maiden informed, with a keen smile appearing on the corner of her lips as she encouraged you to keep pushing. Rhaenyra warmly, and vey slightly smiled to you at the news. There was barely any strength out of you, but biting your lower lip desperately, you picked all the force that was left inside of you, and used it to push the babe out of you with some more pushes.

At one point, gritting your teeth through the pain, you felt the child easily sliding out of your body. A cry escaped rather loudly from you, even if your jaw was tightly clenched to drown back the noises spurring from youe lips, feeling the heavy weight pressuring your lowest zones one more time, before feeling relief at having it all come out at once.

As the child slipped out from you, you mindlessly threw your head back, physically and mentally exhausted. One of the maids assisting you rapidly took hold of your babe, as another girl helped her wrap the child. Rhaenyra looked down at you, warmly leaning closer to press a tender kiss on your sweaty forehead, and Jace rapidly stood up from his seat to meet the child. “I’m proud of you.” Rhaenyra whispered, brushing aside the strands of hair that covered your face, as you remained with your eyes closed.

One of the young maids that carried the already wrapped up babe in her arms remained with her stare fixed on the child. Your eyes slowly opened again, barely beig able to move from all the physical activity. Her expressions turned into a joyful one, but leisurely became grim, with her sheepish smile drooping down in a dreadful manner. It wasn’t until then, that you realised something was terribly wrong. And so did the rest of the people inside your chambers.

“P-Prince, Princess, your boy…” she gulped nervously, as the eldest Velaryon Prince stood by her side. A sensation of anxiety arose on him with the passing of seconds at the realisation that the child, your little boy, wasn’t crying, nor doing any sound even if the young girl rocked him gently in her arms. Jace, delicately but hastily, took the child on his arms.

The child was quiet, still. The chambers felt horribly dreadful as your chest rose and descended continously, awaiting for the young maiden to continue speaking, or for Jace to at least murmur a word. The young maiden’s face began being covered by great anguish, as Jace stood still staring at the boy you had together in disbelief, quietly grieving.

As Jacaerys held the small babe in his arms, one of his hands went to the back of his head, raising him to his face, and placing his lips on the child’s forehead in a mournful manner. Rhaenyra could only feel the disappointment, and sorrowness that would begin to loom over you at the tension lurking the ambience, amidst the dead silence.

“(y/n)…” the eldest Velaryon muttered, carefully sitting by your side. Weakly, you rapidly sat on the bed, groaning a bit in the process as a stinging pain hit in your lower stomach. It couldn’t be. The way you stared at him, screamed that you were losing every bit of hope to see your newborn baby boy healthy and well. His heart ached at the sight of harrowing desperation in your face, as well as Rhaenyra knew you wouldn’t be easily comforted out of this.

“No,” you whispered, nearly abruptly taking the babe away from Jace’s arms, carrying him yourself. “It… It can’t… It can’t be—” your words were stuttered, coming nearly choked out. A lump began tightening your throat, as you felt a rising of savage emotions all coming to attack you at once. Cradling the newborn baby smoothly, your trembling fingers weakly moved aside part of the blanket wrapped around his body that covered his beauteous little face.

Gods, it seemed as if he was merely sleeping peacefully; undisturbed. Your chin began quivering, as the water forming in your eyes became tears, violently beginning to escape from your eyes as you sobbed. Tightly pressing the child against your chest, with your hand pressing the back of his head tightly against the crook of your neck, you allowed yourself to cry everything you had contained.

“I’m… Very sorry.” jace muttered, feeling the sorrow himself as that little dead baby was his child as well. Without doubting it a second, his arm was wrapped around your waist and pressed you against him, embracing you warmly to offer some comfort. Rhaenyra reached to place herseld by your side and smother you in her usual motherly love, but the same maiden that informed her of the dragon approaching Dragonstone from afar entered the room again.

“Your Grace, Prince Lucerys and his dragon have returned severely injured. He was asking for (y/n) before he had to be taken to his chambers by the maesters due to his open wounds.” the whisper was supposed, again, only for Rhaenyra to hear, but you did manage to properly listen what she said. The Targaryen Queen looked at you one more time with a long sigh before standing up from her seat, “I will be back soon, my love.” she whispered, caressing your back before leaving behind with the maid that informed her of the news.

Either way, the burden sitting heavily on your chest was more than enough for you to ignore all the things surrounding you. The tears escaped from your eyes, leaving their hot trails on your rosy cheeks. The poisonous feeling of ponderous emptiness rooted inside you haltingly with the passing of time. Nothing surrounding you mattered anymore. You felt frail, impotent — not only physically, but it was mentally degrading as well for your wellbeing.

“I-I’m sorry…” you muttered, in between helpless, desperate sobs. The tears ran freely across your face, falling down to the ivory blanket your dead child was wrapped around, leaving little dark spots of dried tears. “I-I failed you. I failed my own child… I-I failed everyone,” your lips quivered violently. Your already feeble arms trembled as you tightly held your child against your chest, rocking your body.

Jace looked at you sorrowfully, trying to contain the own sadness he felt at the moment. He shook his head softly, brushing aside a strand of your hair. “No, don’t say that. You never failed any of us,” he reassured, embracing you tightly, allowing your own head to heavily rest on his shoulder. The eldest of the Princes felt a bit of uneasy on how to properly comfort you, as words never felt enough. “You are a great and dutiful wife, as well as a mother. We all cherish you very dearly, like no other.”

His lips were pressed gently against your head, trying to coo you. Your eyes were tightly shut, carelessly allowing sweaty strands of your hair to cover your features. The dreadful pain — in every way — made you feel tremendously exhausted, but all the tears you hid for quite some time were finally freed. In response to his words, you shook your head.

“No,” you whispered, with a hitched breathing. You sniffed quietly, “I am no proper mother, Jacaerys.” weakly, you raised your sight to him. Continously, the tears falled from your eyes, moistening your own clothes, and that of Jace’s. But that couldn’t matter any less, at the moment. His coffee coloured eyes attentively focused on you, pitying the state you were in.

“T-The Seven,” you blurted, stuttering. “They have cursed me to suffer this pain. And I wish I wouldn’t have to endure it.”

Of course, he never thought this was a cursed brought by the Seven themselves. Perhaps a misfortune, yes, but only because the context of war was stressing enough to also add the near death of your best friend, his younger brother. Fortunately, the young future Lord had returned, harmed but alive, but there was no going back to what happened. Your child was born too early, and in a bad situation.

For now, all he could do was give you your time and space to let the pain naturally flow away. Offering you his support and care as you both lost the newborn boy, and the next heir you shared in common, but with no pressure to you.

Time passed dreadfully slow. The hooting of the owls was hushedly heard from the outside of your window, as well as the chirping of the crickets.

All the tears that had fallen from your eyes were dried. There were no more of them to let escape, but you felt as if you needed to cry even more. Your eyes felt heavy, as if they could droop down at any given time, but you had no need to rest at all.

The funeral of your dead newborn child wouls be held early in the morrow, and you already dreaded the thought of having to witness it. Everyone that previously assisted you with your birth had offered their comfort to you, but after some time, you decided you wished to be alone. And knowing the pain, they allowed you to carry your cold babe in your arms, cradling his body disappointedly.

Lucerys had to forcefully rest after the maesters helped taking care of his severe wounds, and had been informed of your miscarriage the second the young Prince woke from his short, interrupted sleep. Of course, Luke had insisted on standing up in anyway he could, and visiting you — but as you wished to be alone and he was gravely injured, no one allowed him to get out of his private quarters.

Truth was, you craved to have Lucerys by your side comforting you after the miscarriage you suffered. And he did as well.

While everyone rested in a deep slumber, the young Velaryon Prince stood from his bed. A wooden cane was given to Lucerys in case he needed to stand up for anything, and he took hold of it as he surreptitiously made his way out from his chambers; but not without having to drown back some growls in pain at how every single cut painfully stinged him.

Quietly shutting the door behind of him, he used his cane to walk on the dimly lit halls of Dragonstone to guide himself towards your chambers, which fortunately it was only a few minutes away.

As you gently cradled your body grimly with youe cold child in your arms, with notorious dark bags under your eyes and a slight redness from all the tearing, a soft knock was heard from the door of your chambers. Having been involved in your own thoughts — and blankly staring, simultaneously — the knock made you quietly yelp, jumping very slightly. Your heartbeat increased rapidly, as you gulped anxiously.

You felt too weak to even respond. “M-May I come in?” the gentle, feeble voice was from no other than Lucerys himself. Even if you felt relieved to know he had taken all the effort to visit you, a few seconds of silence loomed before you finally answered. The pounding from your heartbeat leisurely went back to normal. “Y-You may.” you finally answered, with a hoarse voice.

For some reason, it felt strange to hear your own voice after hours of locking yourself own chambers. The mere sound of your fragile voice shattered his heart.

Discreetly, Luke entered your room, rapidly shutting the door as he entered. You lifted your sight to stare at him, with a dispirited expression in your face. Not only your heart was already shattered for having gone through the painful miscarriage of your firstborn, but as well seeing his arms covered in bandages, noticing several cuts on his face with some dried blood and him walking on a cane slowly already worsened your state.

Lucerys stopped right in front of your bed, his green eyes observing the amount of blood your sheets were covered in, along some towels tossed around your chambers that were tinted in dark red. The sight was harrowing enough, and it became more horrid the moment he saw you still holding your baby boy in your arms, looking absolutely shattered. Your hair was messy, and your face was had slight puffy eyes from all the crying, reddish in your lower lids.

“Baelon didn’t make it, Luke.” your voice was enervated, breaking as you spoke very slightly. A long sigh escaped his lips, continuing to walk towards you. Your eyes were watery once again, as you looked down at your babe. “(y/n)…” he muttered, groaning hushedly as he sat by the edge of your bed, but by your side. His cane rested against the nightstand table next to your bed. “I wish I could have been there for you. I’m sorry.”

Tenderly, his hand was placed on your cheek. With his thumb, he wiped away a tear that began rolling across your cheek again, caressing your skin very softly. “A-And I wish I could have been there for you, too…” you retorted, swiftly licking your already dried lower lip. “Jace insists I could never fail him on my duty to provide him with an heir, but…” your breathing was sharpened, trying to inhale some fresh air to avoid falling into the downward spiral of releasing all the sorrow you contained.

“I did fail him. I failed all of you. I wish I could have taken more care of myself to protect my child,” your words brought grief to himself, with a desperate rising feeling in his chest to hold you against him and shower you in all the adoration Luke had. The young Velaryon noticed immediatly the way the tip of your quivering fingers caressed the cheek of your little boy.

“Look at me, (y/n). Come here,” curiously, you raised your sight towards him.

With a weak, yet smooth movement, the young Velaryon prince gently wrapped his arms around your waist. His hands tightly pulled you against his body while his green eyes fluttered shut, as you rested your head against his chest and kept cradling your child in your arms, inhaling his scent deeply as if his warmth were the only thing capable of keeping you less miserable.

The tears strolled through your eyes in a leisure manner. It was as if a burning burden sat tightly against your chest, weighing profoundly. In a way, you felt reassured to know that despite how gravely wounded he was from Dragonstone, he was still alive. But other part of you, felt entirely useless, and if something had been brutally ripped apart from you.

“I promise, we will forever cherish that child.” you would forever remember the heir that could never be, and even if you felt helplessly useless, you found comfort in Lucerys – as your own beacon of security.

“And I will stay by your side in the morrow, during the funeral.” he placed a tender kiss on top of your head, then resting his chin on it. The young Prince rocked your body to the sides very tenderly and slightly, sighing softly. Something in him realised how much of a good, loving mother you were. In a way, you reminded him of his own.

For a moment, during Storm’s End, he was afraid he would never get to feel that sweet warmth of yours, or to ever stay by your side to comfort you if you needed to. But part of that weight was released when Luke returned safe from home, and even if he was as severely wounded as he was, he would never not take care of you.

This was far away from being the end to you, even if it seemed like nothing could be as better and simple as it used to be.

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