Chapter Text
Days later, Driftmark settled into that soft summer lull where the sea glittered like polished silver and every breeze smelled faintly of salt and warm stone.
Aemond returned from the training yard and paused the moment he stepped onto the upper corridor. The door to the private balcony was open just enough for sunlight to spill inside, a warm, shimmering stripe across the floor.
He heard them before he saw them.
Tiny giggles. Wooden toys clacking. Lucerys humming some soft, lilting tune.
Aemond stepped through the doorway. And stopped breathing.
Lucerys sat on the sun-warmed marble, entirely naked, legs folded up beneath him as the twins crawled around him like two excitable little crabs. His dark curls—long now, impossibly long—fell in thick, glossy waves all the way down to his waist, sunlit strands blowing gently in the ocean breeze. The heat had brought a flush to his skin, turning his chest a soft golden pink.
Those tiny, perky nipples Aemond adored were catching the sun too, just enough to make Aemond bite the inside of his cheek. Gods. Driftmark’s sun was dangerous. Or maybe Lucerys was.
The twins, three years old and full of chaos, were naked as their muña, flying wooden dragons back and forth between them, sometimes crashing them with dramatic little growls.
“Take that!”
“No, you take that!”
Lucerys looked up when Aemond approached, chocolate eyes bright, hair wild, skin glowing. A strand of curls stuck to his cheek, and he huffed it away with a small pout that nearly killed Aemond on the spot. Fuck.
Aemond leaned against the stone arch, watching them, a smile tugging at his mouth before he could stop it.
“You look well,” he said quietly.
Lucerys blinked, then smiled, small, soft, unaware of how devastating it was. Fuck, fuck.
“The sun feels good,” he answered, smoothing a hand down one twin’s back as the boy scrambled into his lap.
Aemond’s gaze followed the gesture, lingering on the curve of Lucerys’ hip, the love bite on his narrow waist…
“You’re going to burn,” Aemond murmured, stepping closer.
Lucerys shrugged one shoulder, lazy in the warmth. “Then you’ll put salve on me later.”
Aemond swallowed.
Gods.
He would.
He absolutely would.
Too slowly. Too thoroughly.
The twins looked up then, shrieking with joy—“Kepa!”
Aemond reached down to scoop one of them up, and Lucerys shifted, curls slipping over his thighs like spilled ink.
Driftmark was quiet. The sun was warm. His family was here, golden and laughing and half-wild.
Aemond had never loved anything so painfully.
He settled beside him on the sun-baked marble, close enough that their knees brushed. Lucerys shifted, letting their shoulders touch. His curls spilled across Aemond’s thigh as if they belonged there.
The twins were in full chaos now, darting around them on chubby little legs, squealing with pure joy as they chased each other with their wooden seahorses. Every so often one would crash directly into Aemond’s or Lucerys’ back, only to scramble up again and race off shrieking.
Lucerys watched them, smiling so softly Aemond felt his heart twist. Without thinking, Lucerys leaned in and kissed him. Just a quiet, sun-warmed press of lips. Simple. Tender. Perfect.
Aemond froze only for a moment before kissing him back just as gently.
Salt air. Warm skin. Lucerys’ mouth sweet from the berries he’d been eating earlier.
When they parted, Lucerys rested his forehead against Aemond’s cheek, still watching the boys tumble across the balcony.
“They’re happy,” he whispered.
“They are,” Aemond murmured, sliding a hand to Lucerys’ lower back, thumb brushing warm skin. “It’s because of you.”
Lucerys elbowed him lightly, shy, pleased, pretending not to be.
A toddler shrieked, tripped, got up laughing again, silver curls bouncing wildly. The other one copied him, falling dramatically just to get the same reaction.
Aemond chuckled. “Little actors.”
“They love being dramatic. They’re your sons after all.” Lucerys shot back easily.
Aemond hummed, leaning in closer. His lips brushed the shell of Lucerys’ ear, barely a touch, just warm breath.
“I can’t wait,” he whispered, voice low enough that only Lucerys heard, “to put another pup in you.”
Lucerys whipped around, eyes wide and scandalized. “Aemond, careful!” He slapped a hand over Aemond’s mouth at once, cheeks glowing. “How can you say something like that with the children right here? Are you mad?”
Aemond’s eye gleamed with amusement. He spoke against the palm covering his lips, words muffled but unmistakably smug.
“Not now, of course. Later. Tonight.”
Lucerys’ fingers twitched; he looked like he might combust.
“You’re terrible,” he hissed but he was smiling, biting back laughter as the twins did another glorious, chaotic lap around them.
Rhaeron crashed directly into Lucerys’ side, giggling against his ribs, and Lucerys scooped him up, kissing the top of his head. Aemond watched, soothed, hungry, utterly in love.
The sun shone. The sea murmured. Their sons laughed as if the world had no sharp edges.
Lucerys leaned closer again, eyes warm.
“Tonight,” he murmured back, barely audible, “if you behave, uncle.”
Aemond’s smile was slow and wolfish. He would absolutely not behave.
The sun had turned the twins pink across the cheeks and shoulders, enough that Lucerys clicked his tongue and gathered them both up, one on each hip like he’d been born to do it.
“Bath,” he announced.
The boys groaned dramatically, which only made Aemond laugh as he followed them inside, closing the balcony doors behind them. The Driftmark breeze was replaced with warm, salty stillness and the scent of grapefruit oil Lucerys had set out earlier.
The wooden bathtub sat ready, already filled with pleasantly fresh water. Lucerys plopped the twins in, one after the other, ignoring their squealed protests.
A splash hit Aemond directly in the stomach.
“Who did that?” he demanded in an exaggerated growl.
“Rhaeron did!” Both children pointed at each other. “Rhaenor did, kepa!”
Lucerys nearly choked trying not to laugh.
Aemond rolled up his sleeves and knelt beside the tub, cupping water in his palm and trickling it down their little backs. The boys babbled excitedly, trying to tell him about something that had happened outside.
“Muña… bu… bummm!” one declared proudly.
Lucerys snorted. “What?”
The other twin smacked the water. “Bummm! BUUUMM!”
“I think,” Aemond said solemnly, “they’re trying to say ‘arse.’”
Lucerys shoved his shoulder. “Do not encourage them, please.”
But it was too late. The twins erupted into delighted shrieks of:
“Arse! Aaaarseeeee! Arseface!”
Lucerys covered his face, shoulders shaking with laughter.
Aemond leaned in to kiss each damp, curly silver head, once, twice, again because he could. He loved them so much it hurt. Loved the way they clung to his wrists, the way their curls stuck to their foreheads, the way their little mouths shaped mangled Valyrian.
“You two are trouble,” he murmured against their crowns.
Lucerys reached for the aloe salve and dabbed it gently onto their flushed cheeks. The twins squirmed but didn’t complain; they were used to their carrier fussing.
Aemond helped rub it in, large hands dwarfing those tiny faces. Then—because he was Aemond—his gaze drifted. Below Lucerys’ waist-length curls, his husband was kneeling, arse out, round and soft and still slightly sun-warmed.
Aemond stared.
Lucerys felt it instantly. He straightened, glared over his shoulder, and slapped Aemond’s thigh sharply.
“Behave,” he hissed, cheeks pink, not from sun.
Aemond didn’t even pretend to be sorry. “I’m behaving.
“You were staring.”
“I always stare.”
Lucerys slapped him again, lighter this time, mostly laughing. “The children, Aemond!”
As if summoned, one of the twins slapped the water and shouted triumphantly:
“Arrrrrse!”
Lucerys nearly collapsed with laughter, forehead dropping to the rim of the tub. “Look what you’ve done, uncle!”
Aemond only smirked and leaned in to nip Lucerys’ shoulder affectionately before helping rinse the boys.
Domestic chaos. Warm water. Soft touches. A family that shouldn’t have worked…and yet somehow fit perfectly.