Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It always starts like this, soaring across an endless ocean, one meager glance down enough to throw you into the eerie sight of black waves crashing mercilessly against jagged cliffs edges.

The ocean was a true beast. Selfishly taking in whatever found itself unlucky enough to get caught in its grasp all for herself. true hell upon earth. Able to freeze your veins before drowning your lungs in filthy saltwater.

Something within Luke couldn’t help but feel as though it was midday despite deep gray coating the clouds around him. Dark enough to pass for a midnight sky- clouds having completely blocked out the sun. Rain pouring down as it soaked me completely. Clothes becoming even heavier than they felt before, layers on top of layers of leather dragging me down as though they were drinking every drop the heavens had to give. Smell of salt unfaltering, strong and invasive. Burning my nose so fiercely freshly charred hot coals stuffed up my nostrils would’ve been more welcome. The sting of it going straight to the top of my head. Heating eating away at any ability to keep my head straight.

I'm being followed by something, or perhaps even someone. A dark presence I’m unable to shake looming behind, following my every move. Never letting me out of its sight, dead on my trail. A predator stalking unknowing prey. 

I'm being watched. I know it. Every fiber of my being telling me to escape as fast as I possibly can. Warning that if I don't I'll be caught, devoured till nothing remains.

I want to go home, but I don’t know where such a place could possibly be.

I'm scared yet helpless to do anything.

I look up, down, and every which way my head will allow. Desperation clawing through my curling belly to find the cause of this relentless unease. 

My hair is long, longer than usual. As if it's grown several inches overnight, trailing down the nape of my neck creating a thick curtain of bangs. Layers drenched from the rain causing water to drip down into my eyes, blinding me from the sting of it. The world before me blurs as each second passes. There's a heavy feeling in my stomach about to drop.

I think I'm going to vomit; I know I am.

The skies above me somehow find it in themselves to darken. What little traces of light that peeked out from the clouds are now gone.

I look up and it's there. The cause of my unease. A beast, a behemoth stretching out so wide you’d think it was trying to rival the sky in size. Flying right above me, searching for me. Waiting to devour me whole and leave nothing behind as if the point of my existence was simply to curb its blood lust.

A voice roars out from above. Someone’s joyous laughter carried throughout the wind in what I can only pinpoint as pure elation. Almost as if they were playing a game, a competitive spirit above all. Sick and twisted. 

I look back only to see this thing- an eldritch horror staring back at me. Something of nightmares come to life with eyes for me and nothing more. Larger than anything the average mind could comprehend, merciless jaws opening wide and quickly snapping shut, yearning to kill anything in its path. Teeth as long as my entire arm, slimy tongue coated in a thick grayish saliva.

Despite being a few feet ahead I could still feel the beast's breath enveloping me. Burning so hot it was almost scolding and smelling of months old rotted meat. It felt so close, as if it were leaning right up against my neck. Lusting after heavy wafts of fear permeating through the air, amplified by smoggy rain.

Suddenly I swoop low, dashing through thick clouds. A futile attempt at making out a way to lose whatever sin against nature has made me its target. I dash left and right, sweeping below before peering above and descending even further down. Making my way towards the ocean as one last ditch effort. Pathetic more than anything.

My pursuer is still laughing. Screaming an elated screech as if they were having the time of their life. High on life with no intention of letting go now.

I'm going to die plain and simple.

I feel my body swerve, pitching through what looks to be a misshapen formation of rock. Tall, rough mineral creating a narrow passage to slip through. A saving grace sent by the gods themselves. 

I’m unable to help glancing back and finding myself shocked to see my tormentor and their creature no longer stocking behind. 

Sadly, my luck soon runs out when I come out on the other end. Forced back into the beast’s territory. I can sense it, both monster and man, their eyes locked directly on me, never letting up. Watching closely, ready to find a blind spot and attack.

Suddenly silence is eaten away by a crazed laugh, soon replaced by the frustrated hitches of grunting and growling. They begin to curse my name, breaking down into an enraged panic in what I can only make out to be frustration and seemingly annoyance. As though this unrelenting chase is becoming more of a burden than some sick way of finding precious relief. I can't figure out what they’re saying for the life of him. The words make no sense to me. Sounds which shouldn’t exist rolling off their tongue. However It isn’t nonsense, nothing like the sound of random words scrambled together and thrown around to mimic language. It’s something real. I simply can’t place what.

"Gēlȳni enkā gon Jemēla!”

I allow my eyes to shut in despair. Hoping that closing them would take me to a safe place. Felt that if I closed my lids tight enough and squeezed hard enough it would make this hell disappear and i’d find myself back home.

But where is the home I'm yearning for exactly?

“TAOBA!“

Without warning I’m turning sharp enough knock what little wind remaining right out of distressed lungs. Swept up through higher feats until I charge head on towards my assailant. 

Our paths cross; tension stiff enough to slice. Fire proves burning and unforgiving, spat out across the creature's face. It gets distracted and lets out a cry of pain.

I race up higher, flying through fog crowding by view.

As I go higher the air seems to become thinner and I'm doing myself no favors by breathing so heavily. I feel as though I have a plastic bag over my head, my only source of air diminishing by the second. However, that doesn't matter because I’m finally confronted by a hoard of warm light. Clouds brightened from a harsh mix of heady black to a soft gold he yearned to feel on itching skin. Bits and pieces of a once gloom sky have become baby blue. Sun shining so brightly that I have to turn my head away despite wanting nothing more than to take it all in. 

Gone were the taunting laughs and relentless roars of rage. Pure silence left to take over in its wake. It's calming.

So calming that for a moment I could close my eyes and drift through silence.

Then there's a fearsome howl.

My eyes open and all I can make out are teeth. By the time I realize my fate it's already befallen me. I can feel my body being impaled on what feels like dozens of spears. I hear the crack of my own bones breaking and the squelch of my innards bursting open as my vision becomes hazy with deep red splotches. Something wet dripping down my nose, seeping from my ears as the metallic smell of blood is all I can focus on. Familiar taste of rusted pennies coating my tongue.

My body is spat out. Spiraling downwards towards those horrid waves of the ocean. 

I can see blood. Watching the vibrant mist as it wafts throughout the air along alongside pieces of flesh and bone. Larger body parts I can’t recognize in deaths haze raining down as well.

The last thing I hear is a voice that isn’t my own crying out in distress. Hurt, perhaps terrified. But by then it’s all just white noise.

My vision goes black.

Is it over now?

Luke jumps up halfway off his bed, looking around frantically from one side of the room to another trying to remember where he is. Shaky breaths escaping between dry, peeling lips causing him to pant like a heat ridden dog. His forehead dripping with sweat and fat tears threatening to spill from the edges of blood shot eyes.

The room is dark and would likely be pitch black if not for the dull yellow of old streetlights shining past lifted window curtain edges. His eyes are frantically moving back and forth trying to find something to focus his panic on but all he can see are shadows jumping from one corner to the next. Taunting him.

Luke closed his eyes and did his best to remember his breathing.

In and out, in and out. In and out.

Taunt shoulders begin to slump down. Gritting teeth unclench as he remembers what caused his abrupt waking to happen in the first place.

The dream.

From as early on as he can remember Luke has been haunted by that singular dream. It’s as if he’s been cursed to live with that brutal scene playing on a constant loop until the day he finally croaks.

Luke never had the pleasure of closing his eyes and experiencing the calm darkness so many complain about. People described the feeling of blackness taking you in its hold for what felt like minutes only to wake hours later fully rested like others would some sort of unwanted child rested on their hip. A disappointment.

But Luke? He dreams every single night without fail. His own personal movie starring himself as the main character. And by the end of it he’s greeted by sickening sight of his own blood and entrails blowing through the wind as his corpse falls into the sea. Effectively going dark as the credits roll. Awful smells, hopelessness, pure dread and a weird sensation drumming through his skull. Gnawing was the only word that could give it justice. Almost as if something was trying to crack open his skull and escape.

It always plays out the same way. He’s being followed- chased more like it. Hunted down like a dog by what he can only assume to be some sort of dragon and the sadistic asshole commanding it.

It's out for blood. They both are. Always have been.

But even while in the midst of being chased by a ravenous beast larger than anything he can properly put into words, what scares him the most aren’t the sharp talons or the impending sense of death. It’s the feeling of missing someone once held dearly. wishing they were there to hold him tight, caress tear stained cheeks. It follows him into the real world each time without fail and its deeply unsettling.

No more than a dream, figments of his imagination working against him as if his life wasn’t already a complete shit fest. But even so, he still can't help but feel pain at the thought. A deep sadness only felt by yearning for this nonexistent someone to tell him that all would be okay. Luke has never had someone to cuddle him and pinch his cheeks. Rub his shoulders and whisper how they’ll always be with him no matter what cruel fate may come. Never been loved for more than what he offered which admittedly wasn’t much.

How can you miss something you've never experienced? You can yearn for it, ache for it, feel envy when you look across the room to see others greedily experiencing it, but to miss it? You can only miss what you’ve lost, and he's never had it to begin with.

He’s been plagued since a child. Something no amount of pills or warm milk could chase away. The only way to prevent it was to avoid sleep and so he didn’t sleep. Coaching his body into a near constant state of insomnia. 

It was insane, but it worked.

Lukes thought process was simple, a basic system he’s spent years using. Remaining awake for as long as possible and sleeping as little as he could somehow created a barrier of sorts. Chugging straight black coffee and energy drinks back-to-back like water gave him a nice buzz. Enough to keep his fingers twitching and eyes peeled open. Headphones were a nonnegotiable constant too, no matter if he lost his hearing before thirty or not. 

He needs to. It’s simply not up for discussion.

And Luke always enjoyed learning, even if he didn’t grow up in an environment that encouraged it. One of his favorite subjects had been science. So at the ripe ago of twelve he decided to conduct a little experiment. A minor scientific test with himself as the one and only subject. He studied his own actions; making a note of every little thing he did day by day. Jotting down in blue ink how certain actions affected him when it came to sleep. Of course, this study led to him finding some interesting articles about the process behind sleep. How it worked as a bodily function. How certain actions affect the way in which a person sleeps.

Dreams themselves can only happen when someone reaches a stage called REM sleep. He found that taking short naps at the back of the bus or falling asleep at his desk during study hall made it easier to fall into a dream at night. As if his body was starting back up where it left off.

Luke can almost see the well loved notes he’d written back then. Probably torn up somewhere and discarded in a landfill now. He could recite every word too.

”Rem is the stage of sleep where dreams occur. It’s the fourth and final stage of the sleep cycle which all three previous stages prepare you for. It takes anywhere from 90 - 120 minutes of straight sleep for this stage to transpire. As a result, when someone feels their body might shut down on them from a lack of rest, allowing themselves a few hours of sleep done in small intervals to avoid falling into REM could be a perfect way to cheat the system.”

Sleep for fifteen minutes, get woken up by his alarm and scroll through his phone for no less than ten before setting the alarm once more. Rinse and repeat until as satisfied as possible, successfully avoiding deep sleep.

Problem solved... sort of.

Unfortunately, this method was usually a hit or miss, missing terribly most of the time. There were occasions when it worked. It had been working pretty fucking successfully for the first half of the week. Apparently, his body didn't get the memo to keep up on a job well done and made other plans.

He knows it’s unhealthy, that his habits are more than likely going to come back to bite him in the ass later on in life. Probably in the form of a fucking stroke from all the stress he’s putting his body under. But that’s a problem for him to deal with when the time came. Besides, what other choice does he have, Confide in a friend? Tell a trusted adult maybe? Give him a break.

The idea was itself was pathetic. Jumping through hoops to get in contact with his social worker about what exactly? Nightmares? Waste an hour or the mans time explaining his extensive history with bad dreams of being chased down by a faceless maniac who rides around on a giant lizard. A pathetic horror movie monster that ends up chomping him in half like a stale Kit-Kat. 

To think such an idea would result in anything less than having ”mentally unstable” written in fat strokes of red marker across his file was laughable.

Who would willingly let a freak like that sleep across from their room and actually trust them not to slice their throat open in the middle of the night with a fucking fork? No one, that's who. It's not as if there's a surplus of families willing to foster him in the first place. 

He’s seventeen and has a rap sheet that's filled to the brim with previous acts of violence, to put it nicely. Not to mention that he’s currently in the middle of a legal case. Luke can't take the chance of diminishing what incredibly little prospects he has to zero and getting shipped off to a group home. He'd rather be sent straight to the worst level of the seven hells before he ever willingly steps foot in one of those again.

So until he’s out of the system for good, he’ll deal with the freaky Westerossi psycho meets Godzilla dreams.

finally opening his eyes, Luke lifts his head to see the dim yellow glow outside his window has been replaced by a low blue hue that begins to shine through the makeshift mess of old bed sheets turned curtains.

He picks up his phone, it's 5:37 am so he’s gotten about two and a half hours of sleep.

School doesn't start until eight so he has another couple hours free. He could go through Instagram and get some light stalking done. Just to check in and make sure that everyone he despises is doing even worse than he is, but he’s also starving. Stomach feeling as though it was beginning to do backflips in protest of what it thought was a hunger strike. And gods above knew that sloppy piece of shit down the hall who looks like a human manifestation of the Mucinex mascot that just so happens to be fostering him isn’t going to be gracious enough to save an extra bit of cereal and milk. So Luke might as well get up and make himself a nice breakfast. Breakfast that doesn't consist of Cheetos and lemon-flavored nicotine just this once. As a treat.

He throws the thin blanket off his lower half and gets out of bed, the squeak of the bed springs ringing through his ears. Steps over empty Red Bull cans scattered across the grainy floor towards the well loved duffle bag sitting on the chair across.

Finding an outfit is an easy task since he doesn't own much of anything. Constantly moving from state to state and getting tossed to different people on a regular basis made it an easy task to lose things. That is if you're unlucky enough to not have them stolen from right under you. If you score well enough you may even be sent to the home of followers of the seven and have all of your “inappropriate” belongings, such as the limited Rocky Horror Tee you found after being blessed by the thrift gods, thrown out because of course, It's a common fact that evil manifests itself through drag.

Not that he’s speaking from experience.

He grabs whatever’s the least in need of a dish detergent bath and makes his way to the communal toilet. Floors creaking under his weight.

The light flickers for several seconds before finally brightening up. Creating a buzzing hiss that makes the teen wonder when it’ll finally give out. There’s three bulbs above the sink but only actually does its job. 

Luke rests everything on the countertop before reaching for the faucet. It takes a while before the water to start up and even longer for it to heat up. You can hear old pipes doing their best to start up.

He looks around a little in the meantime. Theorizes that the shower curtain was probably white at some point in time before turning septic beige. Tiles also seemed to be white once upon a time but clearly decades of dirt build up filled spaces in between them.

It made his skin crawl.

Once he’s in, Luke takes some time to let warm water hit him. He’s always enjoyed hot showers; they relaxed him. Help him feel clean. To Luke, the heat of the water hitting his skin is like scratching an itch.

It’s not nearly enjoyable as it should be however. The tub is fucking filthy with what’s obviously years dirt worth of grimed around the drain. An uncomfortable sight to look at, almost makes him itch.

So much for jacking off.

After he immediately gets dressed, not bothering to dry off with a towel since hot air does enough of the job for him. The only positive about living with a man who refused to turn on the AC.

Taking one more look at himself in the mirror Luke flips his septum ring back down.

God, I hope the booger is still asleep.

He isn’t asleep.

In fact, he’s wide awake. luckily for Luke he seems to be in an alright mood. For once he’s not looking as if he was trying to beat Elvis in a competition for the worst case of severe constipation to be documented. The living room blinds were open letting warm sunlight peak through, lighting up the usually dark home.

Why was the man in a semi-positive mood Luke has no clue. Having said that it's best for him not to ask questions and accept the blessing he’s received at face value. What's even more unexpected is that Luke hears a singular word from the man whose body was practically fusing with the sinking sofa.

”Mornin’.”

Luke stills for a moment, shooting out a rushed good morning, on instinct before heading for the kitchen.

Walking into the kitchen his nose is immediately assaulted by a smell emitting from the garbage. Sydney was a pig if he’d ever seen one.

At this point the only way it was going to get thrown out was if Luke held his breath and threw the overfilled plastic across his back and down to the curb, but why would he? He cleans up behind himself when he makes a mess so why shouldn’t Sydney? Especially when he makes it a point to remind Luke that in his house, he is king and his word is law. Some part of him is genuinely beginning to believe the man does it on purpose now. Probably thought taking him in meant a live-in maid. 

Scrunching his nose, Luke decides to start breathing through his mouth. A full belly the only thing on his mind.

French toast sounds good and if memory serves him right there's just enough syrup left over for a couple of slices.

Reaching under the sink cabinet where the larger dishes are stored Luke finds and takes out a medium sized skillet which has started to turn brown due to rust and can no longer be labeled as having a circular shape. 

Soon enough all focus turns towards the TV through the open view. Sydney seems to be watching some kind of documentary on the history channel. More in the zone now than he’d ever looked while watching those shitty Essossi soaps.

Also out of the ordinary.

“Aemond Targaryen was challenged by his uncle Daemon- also known as the rouge prince in his younger years, to a duel at Harrenhal. Aemond is said to have shown up to the location where the fight was supposed to take place with his then pregnant lover and spoil of war; Alys Rivers.” The narrator spoke.

“Of course, we don't know exactly what happened during the battle. Not only did the two people who participated die brutally in combat but also because Alys Rivers disappeared without trace soon after the duel took place. However, what we do know for a fact is how it ended.” A woman with long auburn curls stated. Some sort of historian likely.

“The bones of Aemond Targaryen were discovered under water near Harrenhal decades later. His body was found still chained to the saddle of his dragon Vhagar. His bones in perfect condition. Almost as if they were frozen in time. Even his armor, though rusted from sea water and covered with algae, was in good shape too.” 

“He had his arms held up against his chest as though protecting his heart, with a sword which was later recognized as ‘Dark Sister.’ The famous sword wielded by Daemon Targaryen and the legendary Visenya Targaryen herself before him. Shoved through the socket of the same eye he’d lost as a child to his nephew and down out the back of his throat” She finished with wide excited eyes and a bit of a small smile.

Luke chuckles, rolling his eyes at the irony of the man's death. Sounds of battered bread making contact with sizzling butter drowning out whatever was said next.

Luke remembers how often that time period was brought up back in middle school. Too many lessons to count and various projects focusing on the infamous dance of the dragons, a surprisingly short but disastrous civil war that led to the all-out extinction of dragons. Not to mention the beginning of house Targaryen's fall from grace.

He remembered some facts about Aemond Targaryen, probably because he sounded more than a little pathetic. The dude had control over the oldest living dragon which was said to have a wingspan of a dozen titanic sized ships that fought in numerous battles yet came out alive in each one and still somehow managed to get killed by his fifty-something year old uncle that probably had a bad back and erectile dysfunction?

Sounds like a loser if you ask Luke.

He flipped his last piece of toast onto the plastic plate and took his sausage patties out of the microwave. Stomach growling as the aroma went straight into his nose. He walked towards the pantry and looked around only to find a completely empty bottle of Mrs. Butterworth's syrup staring blanking back at him. Had the bottle not been inanimate Luke would've sworn up and down it was mocking him.

I’m going to kill myself one of these days

Chapter Text

After a fulfilling meal of dry French toast as a courtesy from his foster paired with freezer burnt sausage, Luke leaves with a hastily drawn out see you. Already out the door before the couch surfing slob could reply. Deciding he might as well make a quick trip to the corner store before class for something that was actually meant for human consumption.

It's cooler than he’d anticipated. November breeze blowing through still damp hair making for a feeling akin to tingling serum soothing dry scalp. Fallen leaves scattered in every which direction thanks to the slight shake of tall trees.

It's the end of the month, winter just now beginning to make its appearance in Dorne, whereas just about anywhere else across the nation looked like your average Hallmark movie by now.

Luke has learned more about Dorne in these last months than he ever thought he would. For starters it’s complete opposite of everything he knew from up north when it came down to seasons. Weather changed drastically back in the Riverland's; hot as all hells one minute and cold enough to catch frost bite the next. Flowers will bloom out of nowhere during spring only to be ripped from the ground by a raging hurricane which couldn’t have been predicted let the news tell it.

Dorne on the other hand was simply— hot. Unrelenting sun beaming down at all hours of the day, everyday without fail. Even the nights were too humid to stand. 

At the very least, the cities beauty made up for its hellish heat.

The neighborhood Sydney resides in is colorful. Nothing like the neutral toned apartment complexes Luke spent his life hold up in.
 
Most homes around were small, similar yet somehow prettier than his. Numerous shades of orange and pink paired amongst some reds forming a pattern. Pleasing to look at. Scratching Luke’s brain in a way the odd pea green of Sydney's broken down abode couldn’t accomplish. Unloved green walls paired with a mustard yellow roof proved nothing more than an eyesore. 

Grass around the neighborhood tended to be brown while other lawns were dull green. Clashing with red dirt roads. There were trees grounded around here or there, small with only a few leaves left hanging but the pink flowers that decorate them make up for it. The kinds which obviously weren't native and still somehow blended in once you let the image settle. It wasn’t the richest neighborhood but still managed to be beautiful.

Towards the gates Luke spots a small group of kids, kindergarteners most likely. Walking hand in hand with one another while an older woman guides them to the orange bus parked out front. 

They’re laughing, little lunchboxes in hand and cartoon themed backpacks secured tightly on their backs. Some have on fuzzy hats while others are wrapped up in scarves. Let Luke tell it things weren't anywhere near cold enough to break out the warm coats, but native Dornes weren't all that known for their resilience in cold weather were they. 

No matter: It put a smile on his face seeing kids that age so carefree. Not everyone got to have that.

Five months have passed since Luke relocated. Honestly, he’s still trying to get used to the change, doesn't think he ever will. Everything was so drastically different from what he'd grown up with. Places he'd gone, the people he knew. Thousands of miles away now. Unreachable.

Mrs. Margaret from the social center said that Dorne would be a fresh start for him after all that's happened. A place where he could become the best version of himself possible. Get his act together without having to face judgment. Promising that she would find a decent foster. One who could be understanding, possibly a bit more sensitive than your average to his situation. Treat him with respect. Help him work through his issues and likely even heal while he waits for trial. 

However, like most promises social workers made it was complete bullshit. Frilly words void of any real weight said in the moment to calm his worries.

My mistake for actually believing in her.

Realistically Luke knew he shouldn’t be so damn salty about it. The woman usually put more effort into finding somewhere that resonated with any promises made. Margaret was a nice woman, compassionate when others couldn't be bothered. One of few people he actually believed to be as non-judgmental as she assured. Since Luke ended up in Sydney's care the ugly bastard must've been the best option from whatever small pool actually agreed to house him.

Sydney was a douche no different from the others. Uninviting along with an inflated sense of self. Acting as if Luke was just the luckiest boy on Earth to be in his presence. 

Luke received nothing but a drafty closet sized room and enough flies to feed each bullfrog in the country thanks to months old garbage left to rot. All while his dear foster got a nice check in the mail every month for his supposedly 'selfless act'

Sydney was informed by social services as to why Luke was being brought to Dorne prior to agreeing to foster him. Filled him in on every little detail too. Abuse Luke faced in his previous homes, recently dropped charges by the state and any testimony Luke agreed to give once things went to court. Unsurprisingly, the guy likes to use it against him. Who would've imagined? Specifically if Luke does something to piss him off- like change the tv channel he obviously wasn't paying it any mind or showering for more than 5 minutes at a time.

Their last real argument nearly had Luke ready to pack his shit and go rouge. The results of an hour-long screaming match that came to be all because he'd left the front door open while stepping out to get Sydney's package since the fat bitch was too lazy to do it himself.

He'd claimed Luke was ‘letting out all the cold air that I work my ass off to pay for’ despite that fact that there was none. Of course that soon led to Luke being called a disrespectful, ungrateful punk.

Luke should’ve told him to get off his lazy ass and get his own damn package. But that would have probably given him the same result served with a slog to the chin in addition to a call to his case worker.

Now that it’s on his mind, Sydney's behavior towards him this morning was more than a result of waking up on the right side of the bed. Morning greeting free of any sarcasm, open blinders and something other than trash reality or badly acted operas playing across his beloved tv. For once the man seemed…care free.

Did he win the lottery? Get a raise maybe? 

He couldn’t have gotten laid without having to throw around cash for it. The man is a the revolting slob in every sense of the word. To make matters worse he’s flat broke and his place stinks like a cesspool. No sane woman would give him the time of day even if his pockets were lined.

No matter: it’s not like Sydney’s personal life is any of Luke’s business.

Light doors open with a ring when Luke walks through. Throwing a quick wave at the cashier who looked about ready to kick out the old man attempting to haggle Powerball ticket prices.

Watching that shit show from the sidelines would’ve been his main goal any other day. Instead he makes the way towards the fridge aisle to find a Red Bull. Always a main objective as the pressure to stay awake was an unbearable one. That much was obvious if his dark circles and red rimmed eyes meant anything.

Luke’s own mind had been destroying him from the inside out for years. Dreams gradually worsened over time, surroundings became sharper with age and what was once a hazy screen he viewed from the outside looking in as a little boy, morphed into a first person experience in all its high definition glory by the time he started to grow stubble. Left feeling more empty and hopeless as time proved to strengthen whatever was wrong. 

Training himself to stay awake didn’t make for a different result either. At certain times after Luke managed to stay up for days in a row off of nothing but caffeine and sheer willpower did he find himself wondering if avoiding sleep was worth it in the long run. Forcing your body to remain awake when it was begging for rest was torture in it’s purest form. 

And at times when the lack of sleep got really bad– Luke would become a bit delirious to put it in easier words. 

Eventually he would cave in, he was nothing but human after all. Closing tired eyes and allowing sleep to take him in. Only when he awoke unable to breathe while dripping with sweat as feelings of phantom pain from memory of being torn into, did Luke remember why he fought so hard to avoid it to start.

Only when strolling down messy aisles does Luke catch sight of a girl tall enough to hit her head on a door frame if she wasn’t careful. It wasn’t often you saw anyone capable of that, and the badly installed cotton candy hair extensions weren’t accomplishing anything but giving Luke a bad case of déjà vu.  

Pink strands tied back into a knotted fishtail braid which had obviously seen better days. Worn down platforms littered in stickers that were nearly about to fall apart under her feet.

Was he losing for simply thinking that this girl was who he thought, or did the fact that his feet started moving towards on their own accord that made it so?

He moves in closer. “Tiffany?” Still unsure

The girl puts down her slushie. Luke can feel his heart beat out of his chest when pale skin and pencil thin pink brows that shoot up to her forehead look back at him. “Luke?” 

A face of confusion turns into one of shock when it sets in that he’s exactly who she thinks he is. Pulling the younger boy into a sudden bear hug without warning. Her nails are sharper than ever and maybe that’s the reason she's so insistent on digging into his sides with them. He’s confused in all honesty. And maybe it's the sleep deprivation getting to him or lack of nicotine beating his ass but Luke decides to reciprocate anyway. 

They’re squeezing each other for dear life. Swaying side to side like they’d been looking for one another for years without progress. Luke knows for a fact they look like idiots but can’t find the will to give a shit. Tiffany is the last connection he has to his last good home. Quite frankly, he has no clue why she’s even touching him. From what Luke remembers the only time they ever made physical contact was when they were putting up a fight. Maybe even a few drunken kisses every once in a while but who’s counting those? He doesn't question her about it though; not when she’s the first familiar face he’s seen in over half a year. Not to mention he’s quite literally starved for human touch. 

Being held feels good, even if it’s by someone who's threatened him with bodily harm.

“The hell are you doing here?” Tiff questions. “Last I heard about you Tessa called me saying you had the cops ready to tear down her door.” Her hands shrinking into the pockets of the same rhinestone studded jacket he’d seen her in a million times over, having forgotten all about her drink, left abandoned on the sticky, fruit fly infested counter.

to say he and Tiffany knew each other well would be putting things lightly. Having met two years ago to the exact date after he’d been placed with his previous foster mother Tessa. 

Tessa was one of few: older but far from the sweet old lady who spent her days sat on the porch knitting. Tessa was an enigma. Strict when it came to respecting her rules like many fosters but never sticking her nose up to them, treating their existence like a chore that came with a check attached. Taking every penny she received and pouring back into them when in reality, she could've done anything with that money. 

Their apartment was basically a glorified shoe box. Already small enough with the woman fostering three other children besides him. Forcing the now group of four to share two twin beds in a single room without space for much else. 

With the others all being elementary school aged it left Luke the mature one of the bunch. So, when Tiffany popped up out of nowhere one day claiming to be Tessa’s favorite (only) goddaughter, he would’ve been an idiot not to jump at the chance at having a conversation that didn’t involve second grade gossip- no matter how juicy it could get.

Aside from having just a handful of years on him, Tiff's life experiences were similar enough to have a real fucking conversation about the world. Neither party giving each other pitiful looks or gods forbid a fucking sympathy hug.

Luke didn't appreciate being the catalyst for some ungrateful bastard to finally pick up their mother's call and thank them for actually giving a rat's ass. 

Tiffany’s birth-giver or so she liked to refer to the woman as, was neglectful. Bottom of the barrel in ways no one should be able to relate. The only difference in Tiffany’s life and his is that she had Tessa from the very beginning. Always a call away when things got too rough.

As time passed the system put them through the ringer. Crappy fosters and your occasional overcrowded, painfully underfunded group home left them both with scars. Mental and physical. 

Funny enough Luke was sent to live with Tessa while Tiffany just so happened to be in town visiting. 

They bonded over the months. One of many shared interests being a wee bit obsession with body modifications. Coming home with matching tattoos after only a week of knowing one another. Dead drunk when it happened, nonetheless.

On Tiffany’s skin was a crescent moon, clouds filling empty space, a shakily done sword in blue ink slicing through the center. On Luke laid a medieval sun with tiny dots scattered about like sunlight, the same sword pushed through the center in red, both on the inside of their dominant wrists, a mirrored image of night and day. Luke was surprised they were even coherent enough to ask for something so detailed, unsure if the designs were just random flash.

Most would think the two saw one another as family, close friends at the very least, akin to a ride or die, assumptions that just weren't their reality.

When it came down to anything outside of the superficial, the two truly were like night and day. They couldn't have been more opposite to save their lives. Whatever mess of a relationship they’d created leaning more towards foe than friend more often than not. And yet the pair still clung to each other. 

“Listen I-" Luke hitched, thinking his words over carefully. "I know, you want to know-” 

“No shit I wanna know. You disappeared out of thin air for an entire week without so much as a fucking text. Tessa was so worried she nearly had an aneurysm. The kids kept asking for you, and what the fuck were we supposed to tell them? Then all of a sudden, she's calling me from a police station three hours away asking if I knew about Owen.” Whispering the name as if it were a curse. Luke wasn't so sure it's not.

She looked frustrated, downright pissed. Has every right to be too, Luke knows it. Knowing that doesn't stop his blood from running cold at mention of the man he'd ruined himself for. 

“I know ok. I screwed you guys bad." Pleading at this point. "I wasn’t trying to cause trouble. Especially for Tess, and you know that even if you can't say it. You can believe anything you want but don't think I'd fuck her over intentionally.” 

He never meant to cause such a mess. Not when being a burden is one thing he can't stand. People going through stressful situations because of him makes Luke feel like a pest. He’s not worth the trouble. Especially for Tessa. One of the few fosters that actually gives a shit about those she takes in. She was kind and he repaid that kindness by spitting in her face.

“Look Tiff, I want to explain. I really do but I need to get to school before-”

She cut him off with a scoff, a twisted look that read how dare you aging the girl beyond her years.

He deserves that. “I've already been late two times this month and if it happens again my ass is gonna get handed to me." Luke doesn't want Tiffany to feel like he’s brushing her off, but being late isn’t an option for him right now. Not when he was bound in a 'three strikes and you're out' type situation. And out for him meant a nice cell with a metal toilet to stew wine in if his caseworker read the paperwork right.

“On one condition." She answers. "You meet me tonight at the rec center down from Sandstone at six. You spill everything. No bullshit this time.”

Who was he to refute that?

Soon they part ways. Tiffany already making it down the street just a few feet from the city bus stop when Luke yells out. “Wait: You aren’t the only one who needs an explanation. Why the hell are you here at all? Last I checked you're supposed to be a thousand miles away.” Scratching his head at the thought.

She looks back only to brush him off with a wave of her hand

2:04pm

Even with only an hour left in the day Luke is doing everything in his power to tackle down the overwhelming urge to say fuck it and walk out- he could get his GED in a couple years on his own terms if he needed. Nursing a badly bruised ego after being hit with two unexpected tests back to back. Both of which he undoubtably flunked.

To make matters worse, lunch tasted shittier than usual, like the cooks and lunch maids conspired on a plan to stir actual feces into the baked beans as revenge for having to deal with the constant array of attitudes from freshman who still thought their eight grade antics were the oppidum of comedy and seniors who were too stressed to give two fucks. 

But the true downfall of today, the one point where Luke gave up all hope was the moment he lost one of the balls to his septum ring during home room rush. If the brunette closed his eyes tight enough, he could still see the tiny silver orb roll down gum covered stairs.

It made his last period of the day something to actually appreciate for once. No work to be done or expectations to meet, truly a slacker’s paradise.

The classroom is basically empty, only 6 people still here including himself. The gym teacher who didn't bother to write his name on the board, a man of fifty who clearly peaked in high school acting as their supervisor, a teaching assistant from another class who came in with no other mission than charging her phone, and his lovely peers who lay half-asleep on their desks. Luke never heard snores so loud. Maybe there was a massive sleep apnea pandemic in this town he was ignorant to.

Brown eyes look back to the aged clock.

2:06

Luke sighs and gets up from his seat, silent as a mouse until it dawns on him that the fire alarm could go off in and no one present would be able to hear it over the three sleeping beauties who could benefit from a breathing mask during their naps.

Grabbing his bag, Luke walks to the teachers’ desk, takes one of many green sticky notes that serve as a low budget hall pass before making his way out the door. Already having made the decision to wait out the bell in the men's bathroom. Being surrounded by the smell of Poo-Poruri a less cruel fate than sitting in that room for another hour. 

As soon as the coast is clear he slips his vape pen out from his sweater pocket. Taking slow hits while his eyes remained peeled for security when suddenly his phone buzzed in his hand. Flipping it around to see the dim screen lit from a notification taking him straight direct messages on Instagram after clicking it.

some random account still with its original automated handle and a plain hot pink profile picture sending a single message.

‘Bring some liquor btw. Not that cheap shit you like to guzzle either.’

Luke's right brow lifted. He would be deaf, dumb and blind to not guess who was sending him demands. ‘You made an account just to send orders?’ He types back, scrunching his nose at the smell of piss hitting his nose the minute he opens heavy bathroom doors. Sight of used toilet paper smothered into the floor enough to gag. Wondering why he was constantly surrounded by the repulsive.

Buzzing of another message sent stole his attention.

‘Stop asking questions. Just do what I say.’

some things never change.

Eventually the final bell rang, and so Luke decided to catch the city bus back to Sydney's. In no mood to walk and full of regret at never filling out the bus rider permission form earlier in the year. Waiting at his stop, Luke played around with the idea of talking his way into a liquor store, maybe asking one of the local addicts who hung around to buy him a bottle in exchange for cash but decided against it. Not currently in the mood to bother the wrong cokehead and get flung face first into a fight, a lesson he learned some years ago. 

Suddenly, like a bulb lit above his head, the teen remembered the two things his foster held dear: his porn and his spirits. From what he’s seen Sydney keeps the good stuff high in stock locked behind a glass cabinet but hasn't opened it once, too concerned with collecting to take part. What would be the harm?

Luke figured he could fill a couple of empty water bottles and replace the missing liquor with some sparkling crap. Making the exchange should be easy taking into account the man wouldn't be drinking it to notice the watered-down taste. No harm no foul.

The single problem left standing was Luke's ignorance of where Sydney kept his keys. One he could hopefully remedy soon. The man texted him right before three, telling Luke work called him in early and not to expect him on his way back, unknowingly giving the younger an in.

Before the front door had a chance to shut behind him Luke starts outlining the layout, not wanting to test his luck by waiting a second too long. With his shit luck, Sydney would come through that door complaining that he'd been flexed off the schedule or some other universal anomaly. Luke rather not be caught rifling through the truck driver's belongings.

A part of Luke is going haywire, screaming into his ear that this was the last thing he should be doing, crying out that the brunet faced too much to lose; his freedom hanging in the balance.

Part his agreement with the federal attorney was swearing before a judge that he understood breaking the law in any way, no matter how small, would be his nail in the coffin. The Judge addressed Luke as a man rather than the boy his defense tried their best to paint, grey eyes peaking from over a thick manila folder with a look that threatened I will fuck you sideways dry if you make a fool of me, before agreeing to terms.

Another part of Luke dared him to take the risk, asking if he's always been this much of a pussy. Insisted he's made away with far worse crimes than sneaking a much-needed sip. He was tired, running on empty from lack of sleep. Waking up restless and achy, drenched from hair to toe whenever he did. 

Luke was lonely. He didn’t care to make friends or explore whatever the social scene in Dorne looked like when this wasn't real- nothing more than an excruciating limbo until his future was decided. Getting into a relationship or hooking could've been an escape had the mere idea of giving away his body so soon didn't make him nauseous. 

Even with his mind going down a hundred separate trains of thought at once, his encounter with Tiff never left the forefront. He missed her desperately, even if she was a bitch to him most of the time. Seeing her today was like a step back to his past, back when life almost felt worth living. Before today Luke came to the conclusion that if they somehow crossed paths again the self-proclaimed manic pixie would avoid eye contact, acting unaware of his existence due to the slight on her godmother.

He and Tessa left off on bad terms that's for certain. Pure disappointment on her face at seeing her charge handcuffed and shaking like a leaf seared into Luke's brain. Too wrapped up in his own shit to care what she was forced to see, still coming down from the effects milk of the poppy had on him. That was the last time he saw her up close.

Reliving the memory was all Luke needed to make a decision. 

They both knew how Tiffany functioned; she didn’t like to stay in one place for too long, making the possibility of her departure after tonight all the more likely.

Luke knew what this invite was deep down, his last chance to feel her hand in his before going cold. If they met again, she'd pass him without a word, so if she tells her old partner to bring something, he’s going to bring it.

With that, Luke gets started, tearing through the place and stumbling upon some interesting things in the process. Photo albums with every last page dedicated to a dark-haired woman hidden behind the desktop monitor in the living room corner that Luke had been barred from using, no exceptions.

Take your ass to the library, Sydney told when Luke asked for the computer password to get started on a research project.

Asshole.

Hidden in a black suitcase deep in the kitchen closet was a ridiculous collection of 80’s porn. Most just so happening to be some Targaryen fetish roleplay featuring an abundance of large breasted women and oiled-up men in horrible platinum blonde wigs, the only thing cheaper than those being the lackluster medieval costuming bought from whatever knock off Spirit Halloween was having the best sale. Looking closely at the cover it seemed the featured star’s wore purple contacts too. Luke respected the dedication of whatever producer took credit for 'The cock of Valyria'

When it became clear the search was leading nowhere, he decided to try his luck in Sydney's room. The key was still his main objective, yet that didn't stop the sudden interest to know what other freaky shit his foster father had hidden away.

If Sydney was bold enough to hide mountains of porn in a closet where anyone could take a peek, Luke could only imagine what was tucked away behind the intimacy of his bedroom.

The room was plain and smelled of foot cheese as expected. Dark gray walls somehow more drab than Sydney's personality gave the illusion of an old mental ward, a bed that was too large for the limited amount of space, practically taking up half of the room. Light green bedsheets and pillow casing to match.

Too much of green anything made Luke's head throb.

His closet came open first. small as expected, hangers' worth of plain earth toned clothes and racks of shoes piled under. Nothing exciting. His bedside table housed everything you’d usually suspect from a single middle-aged sack. Mail; mostly bills, in addition to various magazines subscriptions for stores Luke has never heard of. Assuming the bass pro shop, was a local thing.

An old iPhone with a cracked screen that refused to power on was the most interesting discovery yet which was pathetic by Luke's standards. Just when he was about to call it quits, huffing with frustration, he struck gold. Silver keys looped in red string sitting between a pack of Mulberry cigs and batteries.

Jumping up without second thought, Luke runs to the cabinet in under a second, immediately pushes the key in the lock. If you listened closely the hum of angels singing could be heard- or maybe that was just in his head. 

Going forward with a caution he usually doesn't possess, Luke grabs the first bottle he can reach, not wasting time as he fills two freshly emptied water bottles with vodka. Replacing the difference with tap. Tip toeing across empty halls to place the heavy glass back exactly where he found it. Gently closing overly fragile cabinet doors shut, making sure things looked no different from before.

By the time Luke finishes making his rounds, eyes searching for anything he may have left out of order, it's already half past four and Tiffany basically demanded they meet up at six. Feeling no need to wait, the teen figured he'd get the days crust of him before heading out.

Under shotty lights, Luke takes a decent look at himself in the mirror. He wasn’t half bad looking. Pinch worthy cheeks of his middle school days gone- practically melted off overnight and replaced by visible cheekbones. His eyebrows grew bushy, fuller than just a few years prior. His nose was straight enough, even if he'd been compared to a pug once or twice. Fat bottom lip accompanied by a slight pout complemented his cupid's bow.

He had more piercings than most. Three on both lobes, a double helix on the left. Those along with his septum were all in silver. Gold washed him out according to some Cosmopolitan article.

Short hair, blunt cut from an old pair of fabric scissors swept above the ear. His curls were tight albeit a little dry from lack of love, Luke did what he could when all he had was a bar od dove and a dream. 

Overall, a decent face stared back at him through grimy glass. His body on the other hand was a different story.

Having broad shoulders was nice, people found them attractive, but Luke was skinny; too skinny. Visible ribs he bet someone could play like a xylophone if they tried. Pink tinted scars from years of beatings are ugly and raised. They ran across his chest and down the backs of thin thighs. He couldn’t understand how Owen ever stood to touch him.

He couldn't change what hid under his clothes, but he could cover it in something better.  Written in black ink centered right on his breastbone, Luke's birthyear was tattooed, sprouting bold wings. Underneath that, a heart shaped Vivianne Westwood Saturn. On his hands the words dead end, trailed across long fingers. The lower eyes went; Sin and punishment could be caught written in old Westerosi font on both thighs. 

His matching tattoo with Tiffany was on the inside of his right wrist. They got wasted in the park and from what little he remembers, Tiffany was the one who brought up the idea. Insisting she knew a guy who could do it along with some free flash.

Luke remembers being adamant about not wanting any flash, especially if they were frilly little Sanrio characters like suggested. Unwilling to budge no matter how persuasive his then friend tried to be or how much tequila ran through his blood. Luke felt like the smartest in the room the morning after waking to Tiffany frantically scrubbing at her pelvis, now sporting lines of pink and blue ink in the shape of what looked like Hello Kitty's down on her luck cousin.

Lastly his favorite, a spiked seahorse on the left side of his ribcage; facing sideways, head turned downwards in all red ink. Heavy shading and thick lines caused people to often mistake it was scarification. Intrigued even after they realize Luke wasn't that bold. Why a seahorse? Does it mean something? He heard a million times over, no different from the others.

To be truthful, Luke has no idea. Uncomfortable with the ocean and many of the creatures in it for a multitude of reasons since birth. But that all changed by chance, a segment on the Discovery channel about Seahorses when he was a boy, unable to change the station to anything else thanks to the dead battery.

Something about them made Luke feel an odd sense of comfort. It's weird.

It was the only professionally done tattoo Luke had done. Blowing his half assed, fifty-dollar basement studio work out of the water when it came to looks. A gift from his ex- Owen; took him to an actual shop, held his hand the entire time even if such a soft display of affection caused Luke's face to flush.

In spite of the betrayal, Luke's heart remained his. Even Owen's own held no love for him in return.

When he arrived, Luke was surprised to see the place was practically deserted save for a lone janitor sweeping already spotless halls. 

Tiffany texted Luke before leaving Sydney's, telling him she would be at the pools. The center was huge, one of few places you could go without spending a dollar. While Luke never was the athletic type, his soft hands better suited at flipping through Jersey shore reruns, that didn't mean he never entertained the idea. Sometimes the foster center held field days where participation never failed to be mandatory. While at the time he whined and stomped sore feet, he'd be a liar to say those were sweet memories. 

The pools were quite just as the rest of the place, empty say for Tiffany swimming the laziest laps the brunet has seen. Performing bits of what he was sure the girl thought on par with Olympic level choreography here and there.

Luke whistled, howling like a madman at the sight of the pink haired pixie attempting a handstand while submerged. Clearly having trouble with the optics of holding her breath with a downturned head as she came back up desperate for air for a third time.

Her head spun at his voice, spitting out chlorine water. “Come get your skinny ass in instead of watching like a perve.” 

“I didn’t bring my speedo.” He shouted back.

Cringing Tiffany threw back. “Thank the Gods above for that.” 

Luke laughed. “Fuck you.” walking over to the lifeguard seat before stripping down to his boxers. Throwing himself in belly first.

Eventually the pair sat quietly on the stairs. Sipping vodka from now crinkled plastic, both waiting for the other to start. Luke caved first of course, awkward silences the bane of his existence.

“What are you doing in Dorne?” Starting off easy.

She shrugged. “Long story; too much to explain. Kind of like the one you told me you had.” Taking a swig.

Well, here it goes. No avoiding it. “What did Tessa tell you?”

She didn’t look at him, eyes glued to her towel covered lap. “That you fucked up.”

Luke took another sip, making a face that matched her own as the back of his throat burned hot. “I was with Owen. We met at a hotel to hook up, some random hole in the wall. When we finished, he asked if I would take some poppy with him. As soon as it hit me-I, Tiff, I was out of it. I couldn't even remember where I was.”

Saying milk of the poppy was dangerous was an understatement. It had been illegal in Westeros for the past hundred years. The way it affected a person's mental state made them subject to anyone's whim, it was more dangerous than any other opioid available. Nothing could measure up.

Studies were done back in the 90's on the effects it had on the human brain. Luke read some, learning that taking it could fuck up your mental state permanently with just a few uses.

Poppy was addictive, most who got on it never got off. It took control of your life, ruled your every waking thought. Only death could stand between it and an addict. 

Luke's childhood was spent in rougher communities; places where seeing people strung out on milk of the poppy roaming around in a daze was as normal as sighting a squirrel in your yard. They were thin, unnaturally so, as if hunger no longer mattered and the only thing they needed to sustain them was their next fix. Bad skin was common among them, lesions developing all over their faces and bodies which would scab over horribly due to them constantly picking. Their eyes and cheeks sunk in, aging them by decades. Dead men walking.

Historians say that Milk of the Poppy hadn't been anything close to what it was now back when dragons roamed the earth and magic was something real, not just some mess in a child's storybook. Something, or someone changed the way maester’s made it for centuries.

Luke saw a woman’s teeth fall out of her mouth in real time. Her gums deep purple, almost black. The teeth themselves were a combination of brown and piss yellow. The woman didn’t even look bothered as it was happening, just kept following his foster mother, telling the woman about her day.

Luke thought about her often. She was dead more than likely.

Tiffany on the other hand, looked as if she were planning to strangle and burry Luke's body alongside whatever ditch in the ground served as that same woman's grave before it went cold. “Poppy. Are you serious, Luke? Please say you’re fucking with me.”

Not a word was said.

“You're serious. You're actually serious. You let that asshole get you hiked up on that shit? I know you, Luke. You drink like a fish when the mood strikes and will suck the shit out of a vape pen if you can't get your hands on a pack of cigs' but you’re not a dope fiend.”

All he could do in response was nod. 

“Why?”

Luke whistles, accepting his fate. “If I tell you, are you going to call me a dumbass?” It comes out almost pleading.

“Depends.”

He sighs. “Because I loved him.." The confession burned worse than any liquor could. "I was devoted to him; did anything he asked without asking myself why. I trusted him so fucking badly. I- I would call him to help me through my panic attacks for fucks sake. Gods, I thought he was the one, thought he'd be in my life forever. I know I sound like an idiot but it’s true."

Tiffany stayed quiet, now staring into Luke’s eyes as if she was trying to tell him to continue no matter if it hurt.

“For the first time in my life I felt like I mattered. That’s not to say Tessa didn’t care, but she never made me feel loved. He treated me like I was something to be cherished, kept safe. Acted as if his whole world would fall apart the moment I stepped out of the picture. Told me our time together was the highlight of his day. It sounds like a cheap line, but I was his and he was mine. Only mine. So, when he told me he wanted us to try it together...how could I say no.” 

Luke took a deep breath, struggling to get the words out as they stuck to the inside of his throat like batter. “I thought he’d never hurt me and mean it so at the time it wasn't a big deal, just something to do. A way we could feel good together.”

Gods, he was humiliated just saying it.

He's gone quiet, waiting for Tiffany to say something. Her silence deafening.

“What next?” Is all she gives him.

Luke tried to compose his thoughts, steadying himself. Their shared beach towel no longer doing anything to help the rigid cold in his bones. He didn’t want to tell her what happened. He thought he did at first, now he was too busy grappling with shame to get the words out. Feeling dissected under her hash gaze. A frog laid out with a scalpel to its belly. 

Tiffany speaks, her voice cold. “You did something stupid for a guy you loved; I’ve been there before. What I did wasn’t nearly as bird brained, but whatever. But something clearly happened between you shooting up and the police coming to Tessa’s door. You need to fill that gap.”

“I can’t-”

“You can!” Patience snapping in two, a twig under her foot. “Did you rob a corner store? Break into someone's house? Make a plan to assassinate the Prime Minister? The police don't just track down some junkie's foster mom and threaten to tear her door down because him and his old ass boyfriend got caught getting high. You did some shit.”

“Junkie?” 

That would forever be the part that hurt most, wouldn't it?

She scoffed. “Out of everything I said was that all you heard? The part that hurt your feelings. I got news for you Luke, anyone who’s willing to shoot that shit and risk ending up walking around the city like the undead is a junkie.”

All he could do was stare. He and Tiffany were never sweethearts, they normally couldn’t have a single conversation that didn’t result in one of them throwing insults at the other but never when it was something so serious. Never had they been so cold towards one another. 

Luke looked at her, eyes blinking as the words left. “Fuck you.” Said so plainly it felt weak on his own tongue.

“Fuck me? Fuck you." She seethed "Do you even realize what you did? Tessa had her foster rights stripped because of you.” 

His face was enough of a response.

Tiffany laughed. Luke had never seen her cry, didn't think she could after watching in awe at the way she walked through the world. But the teary cast over her eyes told a different story.

“They ran their way in as soon as she opened the door, asking if she was fostering a boy named Luke Rivers, that she needed to come down to the station immediately. They ignored her when she asked what happened. Got in her face and everything. Kept demanding she go with them. As soon as she left, some bitch started blowing up the landline claiming she was Arina’s case worker and told me that Arina or any of the others could continue to stay with Tessa. Your stupidity took those kids away from the best home they’ll ever have.”

Luke had seen Tiffany upset countless times; she was the type of person who fell victim to anger easily. But he had never seen her like this, an entirely different person standing over him with her fist clenched, breathing so fast he worried she may pass out. All he could do was watch.

“So, was it worth it? Did he make you feel good, even though it was at everyone else’s expense?”

He was no longer paying attention to anything she spat. All that was on his mind was the thought of those kids, the sweetest round-faced pain in the asses he knew trapped in a home nothing like the one they knew. The innocent in their eyes snuffed out like a pinched candle. If he tried to speak Luke knew he'd end up sobbing. Once again that little boy who watched helplessly as his mother laid slumped over drunk on their sofa. Eyes rolled to the back of her head and stuttering nonsense.

He couldn't cry, not now. He could wait, wait until he was alone in the comfort of his dark room shielded from the judgment of others. Only then would let himself fall apart.

Luke watched her get dressed. Walking out without spearing him a second glance.

It took some time for Luke to come to his senses. Judging by how dark it was outside he sat at the edge of the pool for hours just staring at still water. He felt numb. 

Luke knew Tiffany had every right to be upset; knew every word she said about him to be truthful. He was a selfish prick, too stuck up his own ass to see anyone but himself. After he got arrested one of the female officers sat with him while he waited for questioning, told Luke that he wasn’t at fault for anything that happened, insisted he’d been manipulated by a man who was old enough to know better.

She tried to assure Luke that he was a victim, just as much a victim as Tessa or anyone else who would get caught in the crossfire of it all.

Was that true? Luke may not be an adult in the eyes of the law but certainly wasn't a damn child. He knew right from wrong. Knew that letting Owen hide his stash at Tessa’s house would go sideways one way or another, knew that letting men fuck him to help Owen pay off his debts was filthy. Knew putting his foster mother in the position to have the safety of her home questioned was fucking vile.

Luke hadn’t been manipulated; he simply got comfortable enough for his true colors to show.

8:53pm

It was late. Luke figured he should head back to Sydney's place. Maybe take a lukewarm shower and order pizza. Eating his feelings sounded like the proper solution in this situation.

10:45pm

Sydney's car is parked in the driveway.

Seated right there to gawk at for anyone who so chose, Luke swore the beat-up hoard of old metal was taunting him. 

Passing out in the middle of the street became a more tangible possibility as time ticked by. Luke's curfew had been set for 9pm and not a moment later. So here he stood over an hour late with no alibi of course. Sydney was supposed to be at work; his shifts were normally long enough that the bastard wouldn't be back until well after midnight.

He was in deep shit; there was no denying it. The question was whether he should run or face it head on. Luke wanted to go with the latter but the only person he knew in the area basically told him to go fuck himself. Though considering what he put her only real family through she was valid in doing so.

Even if it hurt to admit the brunette had no other options.

Sydney sat on the couch. Hands folded in his lap, work uniform still on and filthy as always. He didn’t look up, instead choosing to keep his eyes focused on the blank tv screen in front of him. Giving his undivided attention to watching pure static run by in chaotic ribbons. The silence was suffocating, the scene causing Luke's stomach to curl.

“You’ve decided to come back I see. You had fun I hope.” Despite Luke standing right before him those empty eyes never looked up. 

Luke’s tongue felt like a ten-pound weight in his mouth. It made his voice weak. “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?” He questioned, regret pooling as soon as the sound escaped his throat. Wishing he could just melt into a puddle and be done with it. 

Suddenly, Sydney jumps up. Coming face to face with the boy. Skin blotched tomato red and ready to pop a blood vessel. Luke had never seen the man so furious.

“Don’t play dumb with me you little prick. I know you went through my shit.” Seething. “At first I thought that you might actually have a functioning brain up there. You followed my rules- spoke to me with respect more than not. For a while I trusted you to keep following my rules, but apparently, I was wrong!” Bits of spit flew from his mouth onto Luke’s face

Luke stays silent. It was becoming a habit clearly.

“You have anything to say for yourself or are you just going to sit there and look at me like a fucking idiot!” 

Luke tries to breathe. in and out. In and out.  He's so busy attempting to keep himself calm Luke barely puts the pieces together when Sydney pulls his right hand back. By then it's far too late. Luke's cheek burns hot, a deep sting quickly settling in. 

Finally, after a long night of successfully holding back, Luke allows tears to fall without shame.

Chapter Text

Luke was no stranger to violence; he'd lived a life surrounded by it after all. The sounds of neighbors screaming their lungs out as accusations of cheating dripped like venom. Crying of distressed children even younger than Luke himself forced to act as witnesses begging for the fighting to stop. Too blind to know that for as long they lived under same roof threats of strangling lovers and shaky promises to finally leave and never look back, would become a part of them that couldn't be cut out. No different from the color of their hair or pitch of their voice.

They'd always carry it with them. Experience the dull pain tugging at their core like a weight tied around scrawny ankles. Hear echoes of shrieking threats while sat unmoving in the dark despite living alone even as they got older

If they were lucky enough to see another birthday at all. No one was safe from a narcissist drowning in paranoia after all. Not even their own children.

Luke had seen it firsthand. A distinct feeling that couldn't be replicated, seeing a child sized body bag be carried away. Distraught witnesses flailing around as they spoke to cops while others watched from behind their windows. Blinders opened just wide enough to get a good view.  All horrified, utterly lost as to how something so awful could've happened right under their noses. Pretending they'd never seen the sleep deprived eyes of wife and daughter as the pair roamed around their complex like zombies. Flinching at anyone who got too close.

No one ever called to get them help until those three shots rung through the air. Mind the business that pays you, was the motto.

Luke knew violence better than he knew himself. Knew the desperation that came hand in hand with being starved to the point where you dug into trash cans hoping for something still edible regardless of the stench. Made one with the feeling of unwanted touch as a man who smelled of piss with liquor hot on his breath rubbed between his thighs. Constantly greedy for more, unwilling to take no for an answer.

All Luke had to do was focus, allow himself to sink down to the ugliest parts. Nasty and beaten blue, things he never allowed to reach daylight until the sensation of overly calloused palms wrapped tight around his neck came crawling back. Always in need of a bath whenever the feelings of rough thrusts came up with it.

It was a miracle he hadn't taken the easy way out years ago. Knowing all it took were a handful of pills and a few sips of beer to make it all go away.

Too prideful, most people who knew him claimed, insisting it would be his downfall as if he wasn't forsaken from the time he took his first breath.

Luke had been hurt plenty in his life, long since accustomed to the sting. So why now does it hurt so badly.

Tears fell from fluttering eyes, underneath his nostrils wet from snot beginning to run until it kissed the top of quivering lips. His cheek felt hot, searing pain from the fresh slap burning throughout the tender flesh. Hissing as he pressed timid fingers to the burning surface.

The man hovering above him looks down in confusion. Leaning closer as if his mind can't comprehend the tears streaming down his charges face. Confusion soon morphing into disgust. Eyebrows pinched taut and throbbing vein at winkled temples twitching. “Are you crying?” His voice creaking as if he expected anything different after treating his face like a stomping post.

He’s judging him, Luke can feel it, sees it in those beady fucking eyes that refuse to look the other way just this once. Can practically hear Sydney’s mocking thoughts. 

Nearly a grown man and this is what breaks him.

“That hurt,” Luke whispers. The words tumbling out before he had a chance to catch them. His chest heavy and will to fight back utterly broken.

The corners of Sydney's mouth fall, his look of disgust reverting back to anger. A nasty thing. “What did you say to me? Speak louder so I can hear you boy.” He orders.

Luke sniffles, shaking his head no, yet helpless to do anything other than comply. “I said, that hurt.” Forcing more bass into his voice. He's fucked regardless.

He couldn’t say with certainty on how their current dispute would end, but he did have enough sense to know that it would not be in his favor. Nothing that happened tonight would be forgotten or pushed under the rug. His case worker would be receiving a call as soon as possible if Sydney had anything to say about it, would probably be knocking at the front door by this time tomorrow.

Stealing was easy enough to prove, no one would find it hard to believe he'd been drinking, and ignoring his given curfew were all the judge needed to toss him the book. Violations of his prior arrest agreement broken without second thought.

Life as Luke knew it was over. Nobody was to blame but himself.

Without warning, Luke is pulled from thoughts of hand cuffs and shank wielding bunkmates at the feel of tugging at his shirt. Dragging the teen forward until he's close enough to smell Sydney's breath. It reeked of cheap corner store brand cigarettes that burn down too quick and Mountain Dew; the smell was enough to make him gag.

“You come into my house, eat the food that I slave like a dog to put on the table, and spend your day sleeping on the bed I bought, and the moment you get a chance, you repay my kindness with disrespect?" He rants, spittle flying across Luke's forehead, nearly gagging as it lands into his open mouth.

"I don't give a fuck about the boos you goddamned idiot, it's about the principle. You don't bite the hand that feeds your sorry ass.”

Something at that woke Luke up, lit a fire under his ass for the simple fact that every single piece of the man's rant was complete and utter bull.

The house was shithole for lack of better words, and gods there was an entire dictionary filled to the brim with them. Crawling with flies and covered in mold spores that made themselves comfortable in dark corners. By his third week here Luke had resorted to washing his clothes at the local laundromat due to the buildup of mildew inside the washing machine that refused to wash away no matter how hard he scrubbed.

Speaking of food; it wasn’t plentiful. The only groceries in the fridge that were edible by themselves was a loaf of stale white bread, a single green apple, and sausage patties that tasted like they had been wiped across the crud-stained freezer's insides. The room Luke slept in? Laughable to put it lightly. Using the word ‘room’ to describe that cold, damp parody of a closet was insulting. 

Raccoons camping out inside McDonald's dumpsters were living in better conditions than either of them.

But the most outrageous part of this overgrown child parading around like a man's little rant was his insistence that bringing Luke into this rat's nest he had the gall to call home, was an act of kindness.

People like Sydney lived with their asses glued to a dying high horse. Somehow having come to the idea that treating another human being with basic decency made them kind. Believing that they deserve praise for doing the bare minimum and lashed out when their round of applause never came. 

If Sydney wanted Luke to sing his praise for doing the least he could to keep him alive and breathing, then the man was an even bigger moron than Luke assumed. If anything, he was the one owed payment, whose praise should be sung every damn morning. Bets on his own fucking life as a free man that check sent over from child services each month was the only thing keeping the lights on since Sydney isn’t ringing in much cash.

Some months back he took it upon himself to google jobs matching the vague description Sydney gave when Luke asked the man what he did for a living. Only a handful of results came up, all paying a less than considerable amount for anyone to live off of. Especially a grown man and a boy damn near grown if his career really did have anything to do with the trucks he rode back and forth to who knows where. 

Luke’s presence kept the bills paid. No matter if Sydney wanted to acknowledge it or not. 

“I didn’t ask you to do that, you volunteered.” Luke threw back. He knew his words would only escalate the situation, but he was too pissed to give a damn. His face hurt and whatever remained of his pride was bruised like hell. Still tipsy and reeling in from earlier. Tiffany's words playing on a loop.

So, was it worth it? Did he make you feel good, even though it was at everyone else’s expense?

Sydney’s face twisted into something truly revolting, pulling back to hit him again, but before he could strike Luke reeled back, missing the brute force by the skin of his teeth. Turning around in hopes for the door until he was pulled back by the neck of his shirt and thrown to the living room floor landing beside the sofa. Rock hard arm rests narrowly missing his head.

large hands take Luke by his hair forcing him to his feet. Before he could take a moment to comprehend what was happening his back slammed against unforgiving wall.

Four picture frames fell to the floor: shards of glass spraying across sticky tile. The way it happened was nothing like in the movies, you couldn't process it as everything shattered right before your eyes, able to take in every uniquely broken bit. Simply whole one minute and in pieces the next.

The man takes a firm hold on the collar of Luke’s shirt, using it as a means to keep him strung up. A personal puppet tied up on thick wires.

Drawing back as if he were going for the kill, Sydney right hooks him square in his jaw. Sadistic pleasure playing out in usually lifeless eyes. Blood floods Lukes's mouth, he swallows pieces of something hard, feeling around with his tongue until he comes to the conclusion that at least one of his teeth had cracked from the force. Tiny pieces gone down his throat. 

Sydney is screaming loud enough to wake the entire neighborhood. Luke feels the hot, moist air from Sydney’s mouth hitting him. The fist he’s using to keep the brunet standing is pressing down hard on his breastbone, almost as if he were trying to sink his knuckles into Lukes's chest until he got a firm grip on his lungs just to squeeze the life out of him directly from the source.

“What the fuck did you say to me?” He demands. Luke can see his teeth grind together, the sight of crooked bone scraping against each other sends a prickly sensation down Luke’s spine. 

His bruised cheek is the least of Luke's worries at this point, a mouth pooling with copper and head spinning enough to make his breakfast reappear from the frantic movement. Yet and still, he hasn't lost his spite. It was after all one of the only things he had left.

"I said, that I never asked you to do any of that. You’re the one who offered to take me in, you’re the one who decided to foster me knowing it would be too expensive for your shriveled pockets to handle, but you did it anyway. People aren’t supposed to do this shit to get a reward; they're supposed to do it because they're kind.” He's panting like a sick hound that needed to be put out of it's misery by this point. 

Luke knew what would come prior to voicing his thoughts but didn’t have it in him to care anymore. The man already slapped the shit out of him, apparently took a tooth too. If Luke was going to get thrown around like a rag doll anyway, he figured he should at least get all his thoughts out in the open first. Make the fight worth it.

Give this piece of shit an actual reason to beat him.

Sydney flings him to the floor, falling on his stomach with a heavy thud. Climbing onto Luke's back and straddling the boy before snatching him halfway up by already messy strands of hair as he starts to shake. “I’ll kill you; you cock sucking whore.”

Luke cringes as what felt like patches of hair are ripped out from the root. He could only describe the pain as someone holding a hot iron to his scalp.

He forfeits his hold on the younger's hair before flipping him over on his back. Twisting both of Luke's legs in the process until he repositions himself on his already weak stomach.

Sydney's fist makes contact with Luke’s face despite the teen doing his best to flinch away, helpless as the side of his bottom lip busts like an overheated sausage. Warm blood slowly gushing, enough to choke on. The mess is clearly no bother to Sydney, neither is the cloying smell of metal as he continues yelling out curses. Luke’s hearing is so sensitive from all the yelling that it’s difficult to make out anything but the static of white noise. 

His fists makes contact again, Luke's nose cracks and all he can smell anymore is copper. Every ragged breath he takes is accompanied by sharp pain shooting up the middle of his forehead ripping into his brain and a sticky wet sensation akin to watery syrup fills his nostrils. The wetness dripping into his mouth with every weak twitch, Luke tastes metal. He’s rapidly swallowing blood; anxiety combined with the overwhelming smell and taste of blood is making it hard for him to remember how to breathe. Panic rising at the fact that he just may die tonight.

“Fight back- Fight back!” Sydney repeats like a broken record each time his hand connects to Luke’s face.

With all the strength he can muster Luke takes hold of Sydney's hands, a weak attempt to protect himself. If he takes any more damage he’ll probably lose all feeling in his jaw. Still struggling against the enraged man's weight piled atop his thin body.

His muscles are straining, crying out in pain attempting to tell him he's crossing his limit, but he can’t let go. Not if he doesn't want his last moments to end like this.

Managing to pull Sydney’s right fist open, he brings it to his mouth and bites down for all he’s worth. He tastes more metal, feeling the liquid seeping into his mouth as his teeth rip into the man's skin. Luke pushes away the nausea pooling in his gut at the thought of tearing into human flesh and instead bites down harder. Refusing to let up until his teeth run through the meat of Sydney's hand right down to the bone.

Blood continues flowing into his mouth like the rushing tap of water from a faucet, left no choice but to swallow, he’ll surely choke if he doesn't.

Sydney cries out in agony, howling as if his insides were being torn into, and maybe in a strange way they were. Pushing himself off Luke back onto his ass, hand now cradled in the safety of his lap as he rocked back and forth like a small child after stubbing their toe.

Luke won't look a gift horse in the mouth, or however the saying goes. Taking this as his chance to get away. 

As he struggles to get up off the ground Sydney grabs his ankle with his good hand, pulling Luke back down towards him. Falling belly first with no choice but to let himself be dragged. Sydney keeps a tight hold on his ankle refusing to let go, turned over on his stomach now as well.

Luke twists as much as his body will allow just to lift his free foot, using the dirtied heel to kick the struggling man in his eye until his hold loosens and eventually let's up. The brunet can't help but cringe as he feels the foot of his shoe sink into something soft and mushy enough to be felt through thick layers.

Sydney shrieks like a banshee “My eye, my fucking eye, I'll kill you bitch.”

Luke’s boot is a bloodied mess, enough so to make his insides curl and quiver on leftover vodka still swirling in his stomach. He hurries to his feet, nearly falling over nothing as he runs to the staircase. His escape secured before the blood on his shoe causes him to slip on the third step, falling square onto his knee. 

“Fuck!” He squeals as he feels his knee crack, the pain intensifying when he tries to regain his footing. He groans in a mix of anger and frustration; no time to waste sitting there cradling his injury. Left without a choice but to crawl the rest of the way up. His fingers slippery with warm blood making it difficult for him to grip the smooth steps.

Leaning over to grab ahold of decaying staircase railing, he peaks down from between the gaps to see Sydney trying to find his balance while knocking over multiple pieces of old furniture and dollar store decor in the process. His hand holding the side of his face Luke kicked while blood from the hand Luke bit trickles onto the filthy living room rug.

Luke stands again forcing himself to ignore the griping pain from his knee radiating down to his toes and upwards towards his thigh, stinging like hot coals. It feels as if his knee has been torn open and flayed, every step he takes increases the pain by tenfold. Likely to knock him back down had adrenaline not been pumping through him like fire.

Pushing himself through the painful ascend by sheer will power he makes it to the top of the staircase, using his body weight to throw himself down the hall towards the familiar direction of Sydney's room. Luke's door has no lock, his initial handle replaced by a childproof one the day he moved in. Remembers the smug bastard telling him that privacy was something to be earned under his roof. He figures locking himself inside the mans will buy him some time or enough to figure out where to go on from here at the very least.

He barges in, instinctively locking the rusted handle behind him.

“Come back here you son of a bitch!” Sydney shouts from downstairs. Luke can hear heavy footsteps getting closer.

Luke panics: his heart tightening as though it was being squeezed for everything it was worth. His head was pounding, and the room around him seemed to be craving in by the second. What felt like the biggest room in the house hours before now more akin to a shoebox. Moisture from the sweat collecting on his palms mixing with drying blood creating an uncomfortable sticky mess.

Right then hands start banging at the door as the knob wiggles frantically. 

He’s going to kill me.

Luke looks around, searching for something, anything to defend himself. He goes through Sydney's closet the same as before. Clothes are soon torn off their hangers, shoes are thrown from the racks and contents of storage boxes are dumped out, but nothing that can be of use is found. Just his luck.

He rushes to the bedside drawer and scrounges around inside hoping to find a switchblade or anything sharp enough to cut he may have missed earlier only to find nothing once again. Continuing to tear through the room like a hurricane.

At this point Luke is shaking from desperation, his legs are about to give out beneath him. Nose is still dripping with blood and the pain in his knee is becoming impossible to withstand. 

Hope is truly lost when the door kicks open revealing Sydney, the hand Luke had nearly bitten a chunk out of wrapped in cloth as light trails of blood ooze from his eye. As he comes forward Luke tries to dodge him but it's too late, he already has a tight hold around Luke’s middle-  pulling him down. His face is covered in streaks of blood; harsh open-mouthed breaths cause saliva to drip in cold drops onto Luke's scratch covered cheeks. No longer a man but an wild animal infected with rage. Gleeful smile dancing on thin lips as he wraps his hands around Luke’s neck.

Air gets cut off instantly, stolen from his lungs without warning. His neck not far away from snapping as Sydney’s hold tightens. 

He’s lightheaded, vision doubling as the world around him becomes blurry, utterly unfocused. Cloudy white spots circle around him as a light buzzing sound similar to bees swarming mindlessly fills his head. Slowly fading into an oddly familiar voice fading in and out.

"Then you are craven as well as a traitor”

“Give me your eye or I will take it, bastard!”

"Daor, serve me. Dohaeras!”

When applying any shred of logic, the rational side of Luke knows for a fact he's hallucinating. That whatever these voices swirling around his head are likely mean he's floating somewhere between life and death, walking the delicate tightrope of limbo. But for some odd reason that voice sparks something inside of him, an urgency that couldn't be ignored. With a newfound fire lit beneath him, Luke reaches his arm under the bed searching for something that'll give him a fighting chance.

Just when he feels the lightness bouncing around his skull striking, knowing he was about to blackout sooner or later, he feels something hard and cold, a familiar sleekness touching his fingertips. 

A baseball bat, a metal baseball bat.

His adrenaline spikes as if he was right back on that staircase, using his good leg to knee Sydney in the crotch. 

Pain catches the man off guard, his hold on Luke’s neck loosening. Taking in as much air as possible, he kicked the man again and spat in his unharmed eye. Jumping back on his knees, unknowingly giving Luke the opportunity to retrieve the bat from below the bed.

Luke takes the bat, swinging until it meets Sydney’s temple with the loud ring of metal meeting bone as the man collapses flat onto his back. Landing beside the now flipped nightstand with a hard thud that would've made anyone hiss in sympathy. Arms wrapped around his head trying to protect it from another strike. 

Luke takes another swing at him; holding the bat high before slamming it down with as much brute force as his abused body can muster, practically bashing the man's face in when images of mangled meat come to mind. Eventually Sydney’s arms unfurl from around his now bleeding skull, arms struggling to pull his weight as he tries to crawl away. A sadistic twinge beaming in satisfaction as Luke uses the metals tip to dig further into the eye he damaged earlier.

Sydney was now crying out, begging Luke to stop. Screaming for mercy.

How many times in Luke's life had he begged for the pain to stop. Got on his knees and pleaded with people to stop, begging them to see that it hurt. Crying that he would do anything, be anything. That he would be good. 

They didn't stop, too drunk on power and drooling in the delight of making something theirs by any means. Taking from him what they had no right to take. Using him as a release for their sexual frustration and pent-up anger. Why should Luke spare anyone when no one ever afforded him the same kindness, including the man beneath him cowering in fear. 

“How does it feel?” Luke asked, voice hoarse. He could barely recognize it himself. “How does it feel to be helpless?”

He heard Sydney's teeth crack like stiffened joints, felt his bones break under the pressure, and watched his skin get painted red with each blow. The end of the bat was no longer silver, coated in splatters of vibrant red and tiny specks of gunk Luke couldn’t identify 

Soon his anger burned out, his guard lowering as he deemed his foster father no longer a threat. Throwing the piece of metal aside when he noticed that Sydney was unnervingly quiet, no sound could be heard from the man at all. The silence surrounding him became suffocating, as though he was trapped inside a broken down elevator with no emergency button.

Sydney laid in a puddle of his own blood. It seemed his earlier gesture of covering his head hadn’t done much to protect it. A large gash beaten into his forehead right above his split open eyebrow, slowly dripping blood onto stained carpet. Both his eyes were swollen shut and in the starting stages of blooming purple. His lip was busted badly, the meat of his cupid's bow looked like it had been torn clean in half. Luke gagged when he saw the man's mouth hanging wide open as if his jaw could no longer support it, the very tip of his tongue bitten off and numerous teeth cracked down to bloody gums.

With all the hesitance in the world, Luke picked the bat back up to inspect it. Keeping it at a distance as if it would bite. Only then did it set in that the specks he noticed before were small pieces of skin. 

Luke felt something slink around in his gut before it climbed up his throat. Unable to move his body before it forced putrid chunks of bile up, slopping out from his throat right next to the man he’d beaten. His throat was burning, acid from his stomach wrecking his esophagus. Yellow chunks of unrecognizable solids that had ejected itself from his insides seeping into the carpet. The smell under his nose was horrendous, sending another wave of nausea coursing through him. Soon hunched over Sydney’s body dry heaving as spittle dripping from his swollen lip. 

When his stomach had finally finished emptying itself, Luke came back to reality. The wrecked room. The blood. The unconscious man not making a sound laid out on the floor at his feet losing blood.

Luke fell to the floor, mangled knee close to giving out as he shook his foster father, worry eating at him the longer he received no response. He was breathing heavier, the need to vomit still gripped him even though there was nothing left to throw up. He gagged and wretched, but nothing returned, the only contents his stomach had to offer were the acids coating it.

He shook Sydney harder. “Come on, wake up. Please by the Gods, wake up!” Shouting in despair as he prayed to God’s he held no love for nor had faith in.

Luke knew what he had to do but was too afraid. Afraid that if he felt for a pulse there would be nothing but further silence, afraid that he had become a murderer.

Lifting trembling fingers to the man's neck, Luke took a breath and felt for anything.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

Relief flooded him, crying out like a man who'd somehow resurrected the dead. Sydney’s pulse was faint, dangerously so, but it was there. Luke peeled his shirt off, uncaring of the metal smelling tackiness acting like glue on his skin and gently placed Sydney's head in his lap lest he make matters worse by having a rough hand. Wrapping the ruined shirt around his head tightly in an effort to stop the bleeding. Hoping that every survival show segment on tourniquet actually taught him something for a change.

He stood up, dangerously close to blowing out his back as he pulled the man onto the bed, attempting to get him out of the gory mess of blood and vomit proving almost impossible with over two-hundred pounds of dead weight.

Once Sydney was situated as best as Luke could get him; limp legs hanging off sinking sides with his head resting on a thin pillow, Luke ran downstairs to find his phone.

As his finger hovers over the number to dial emergency services he can't help but pause. How was he supposed to explain any of this- nearly beating your foster father to death wasn't an everyday occurrence for most people, he couldn't play it off like nothing. Had he been anyone else explaining the situation may not have been so nerve wrecking, but Luke knew as soon as the cops got ahold of his record it was over for him.

Running was an option, being a street rat was nothing new to him. He had little to no thing in his name anyhow. He was good with directions and knew how to keep his head down when called for. Living life on the run would be no eye opening coming-of-age movie but it can’t be worse than the shit he’s been living through for over a decade minus the constant paranoia he would surely experience every time a cop so happened to enter the same vicinity as him of course.

Assuming he did run there was no doubt Sydney wouldn't die up there. Already out cold with a head wound the size of his fists on top of dozen other injuries Luke didn’t want to acknowledge.

If Luke wanted to take his chances he’d need to get a good head start, and having authorities of any kind be it a swarm of officers or a lone ambulance rushing his way would make hitting the road more difficult than it had to be.

He would have to forfeit calling anyone for help, leaving his foster father to succumb to the stranger. Finally left with blood on his hands after seventeen years- the last scrap of innocence he had left.

When it came down to it, there was never an actual choice between the two.

“Hello, this is emergency servi-.”

“Hello, I- I uh um... I got into a fight with my foster dad. He’s hurt really badly. I don't think- I don't think he'll make it.” Words slurred and soupy thanks to his busted lip. Luke was unsure if the operator was able to understand anything coming out of his mouth.

“Ok son, what's your address?”

“497 Southeast Twenty-Third Street, Tyrell Avenue.” He repeated like words off a script. The memory of Sydney making him repeat it every morning for over a month playing on repeat. Forcing it into his head until he could say it without second thought, the man didn't want to be bothered with the brunet blowing up his phone if he got lost. 

“Ok that's good, I'm sending a paramedic. Are you in the room with your dad now?”

“No, I-I'm downstairs.”

“Alright, can you go check on him for me? Medics are on their way but I need you to explain his current condition to me as best you can.”

The operator's voice was kind, comforting even. “Ok.” He answers softly on the way back.

Luke, now sitting on the bed, puts the phone on speaker as he pulls the unconscious man's head back into his lap, breath hitching when he checks for a pulse once again. The gods have apparently chosen to take pity on Luke because it's still there. It's faint, he comes close to missing it a few times but it's there all the same.

The operator is still there asking him questions, but Luke's too spaced out to answer. He’s sure he hears them prompting for his name and further details on what led to where they are now, but he keeps quiet. Enjoying the subtle thump of life under his fingers.

Thankfully his nose has stopped bleeding while the pain in his knee has subsided into background noise. He closes his eyes, fingers still on Sydney's pulse praying to every god, new and old, powerful as well as weak that this wasn't the night he stole a life. It was the only thing keeping him from spiraling, feet planted firmly to the ground.

Luke could live with a lot of the choices he’s made but having someone's soul weigh on his shoulders was unbearable.

It was sort of funny when you thought about it. Sydney was still alive, yet his death was already destroying Luke.

It happened so fast. 

One minute Luke has his arms around Sydney as he prayed for the man's life. Promising to anything out there listening no matter if it was the God's themselves or the fucking cosmos that both of them made it to see tomorrow 

The next minute he’s face down on the floor with an officer's boot planted firmly on the back of his head. Pressing down harder just to see how much the teen could take, the pressure causing his more than likely broken nose to crack further. Luke can tell the bleeding has restarted from the smell of pennies and murky feeling of warm syrup pooling in his nostrils returning.

The cop's foot keeps pushing as if trying to make him eat the carpet from under their feet. Luke moans in pain like a dying dog abandoned on the streets as an odd feeling of pins and needles sets off throughout his face. 

Right when Luke thinks he’s going to scream bloody murder he’s yanked up from the floor by his hair. The pig who was close to breaking Luke’s face moments before is staring at him with enough intensity to make a man deserted in the Dothraki desert shiver.

The man hasn’t spoken a single word to him and guessing from the anger spread across his face, he has nothing positive to say.

He had a face not even a mother could love, and that was putting things generously. Bald head glistening under the flickering ceiling light; if Luke wasn’t in his current position Luke would’ve laughed from how it was basically sparkling.

His skin was horrid, the array of large lumps and bumps covering his forehead and sunken cheeks made him look like he was having a severe allergic reaction. Wrinkles and saggy skin that drooped worse than an aging Basset Hound without any of the charm weren’t doing him any favors either. 

During their staring contest another cop enters the room. Boots heavy on the ground. It would've been intimidating if Luke were anyone else. Unfortunately for them the only emotion they brought out was annoyance.

“This the kid?” looking Luke up and down, reaching for the handcuffs latched on the side of his hip. 

“Yea, surprised me too” 

The second officer urges Luke to put his hands behind his back as his partner reads him his rights. 

“You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law…” He recites as they take Luke away, presumably to their car.

Multiple officers are scattered around the house in a frenzy, a woman crouched down to the ground snapping pictures of the bloody carpet while an older man is hunched, veiny liver spotted hands on his knees inspecting shards of broken glass as if he were putting together a puzzle.

Getting closer to that door feels like accepting death. Blinded by the flashing lights of police cars as soon as they step outside. Sirens are screeching so loud Luke's certain his eardrums are going to burst by the time he makes it across the driveway. Walking further his squinted gaze lands on two people he assumes are paramedics lifting a blanket covered body onto a gurney into an ambulance and right then Luke knows it's Sydney, has to be.

When they get close enough Luke stops in his tracks attempting to talk to the medics.

“Is he going to be ok?” He asks, doing his best to resist the now howling cops trying their best to drag him back to their car.

Resisting arrest be damned, he was already in knee deep in shit. He needed to make sure Sydney wasn't about to be dumped into a body bag and rolled straight to someone's morgue. Needs to know for certain he hasn't taken a life, but his fears aren't soothed because neither of the paramedics' answer, instead they stare at him in confusion. Faces scrunched as if he were speaking another language.

“Is he?” Luke screams until his throat goes raw, probably bleeding from the force. He’s struggling in the cops hold, refusing to leave until he receives a proper answer. Nothing comes, instead the paramedics' look of confusion morphs into worry, turning to speak with the pricks that have his hands tied behind his back.

Luke’s frustration at the situation is apparent, why are they ignoring him? 

Out of nowhere a sharp pain surged through his skull. Everything sounds like it’s underwater. If suddenly he’s overcome with dizziness and almost topples over he blames it on the stress of his current predicament.

Unexpectedly, Luke’s hands are uncuffed and a woman he decides to call Medic one, grabs his left hand while wrapping her arm around his stinging shoulder that's without a doubt disconnected from its socket with a gentleness the brunet hasn’t felt in a long time. Slowly walking him to the ambulance.

He's confused; his brain feels like cotton candy and he's having trouble telling left from right. His fingers are twitching like a fiend coming down from poppy and he’s slowly losing the ability to keep his head up. He was up and moving before the cops came, now he can hardly stand upright.

When Luke's inside the ambulance he expects to be told about how Sydney was holding up, but instead he’s laid down in a separate bed next to him. He can’t see the man's face too well but the heart monitor showing in a steady line tipping up and down above him gave Luke relief. 

Medic two brings a small flashlight to his face in an attempt to shine the glaring beam into his eyes. Luke shuts them instantly once he looks, the light shining bright enough to burn his eyes out of their sockets if he stared at it any longer. 

“Hey there, I need you to open your eyes. Can you tell me how many fingers I'm holding up?” She asked, voice smooth like honey.

“All of them,” he answers, confused as to why he was being questioned.

Her mouth falls to a flat line. “Can you hold up the same number of fingers I’m showing you?” Urging like a child attempting to get a different answer after being told no.

He shakily holds up all five fingers.

She looks across the ambulance to her partner; the pair communicating with each other without words.

This only serves to confuse Luke further. True panic setting in when a clear mask is placed over his mouth. They’re going to put him to sleep. 

Luke fights back, screaming and shouting, attempting to kick his legs but something prevents them from moving, his heart dropping to his empty stomach when he looks down to see his legs have been strapped down. Leather buckles cutting off his circulation. When the hell did they do that?

His eyelids grow heavier, fists that were once closed tight have fallen open, clenched muscles relaxing as sleep takes him.

I'm flying above the unforgiving waves of an endless ocean. I look down, greeted by the sight of dark water crashing against jagged rocks. The strong scent of sea salt penetrates my nose flowing to the top of my head, it’s unpleasant, stinging.

The sky is dark, gray clouds have blocked out the sun. Rain pours down from the sky soaking me, causing my clothes to become heavy upon my shoulders. The weight of them was almost unbearable, layers of wet fabric resting on my skin resulting in a deep itch all over my body.

A heavy presence looms behind me following my every move, never letting me out of its sight, dead on my trail. I'm being watched. Every fiber of my being is telling me to escape before I'm snatched up like prey and devoured down to the last bone.

A voice hums in my head. Soft yet firm.

“If you take this errand, you must go as messengers not as warriors”.

My hair is drenched from the rain causing water to drip down into my eyes, the sting makes my eyes water further. There's a heavy feeling at the pit of my stomach, bile rising up the back of my throat until it’s kissing my tongue.  Still, I swallowed it down; the taste of acid made me gag. 

The skies above me somehow become even darker. What little traces of light that peeked out from the clouds only mere moments ago have completely gone.

Looking up, I'm finally greeted by the cause of my unease. A beast, a monster out of nightmares stretching out so wide it seemed like it wanted to challenge the heavens. It flies right over me, steadily searching, waiting to make its move and devour me whole. Strong gusts of wind breeze across me delivering the voice once again.

“You must take no part in any fighting. Swear it to me now, under the eyes of the Seven”

A different voice roars out from above me. Gruff and menacing, laughing out in pure unfiltered joy almost as if they were playing a sick, twisted game. I look back only to see the monster has managed to sneak up behind me. I'm greeted by merciless jaws opening wide and quickly snapping shut ready to kill anything unfortunate enough to come across its path. Teeth as sharp as daggers and a long slimy tongue coated in grayish saliva.

The beast's breath was burning so hot it was near scolding and the smell of rotten meat was now etched into my brain. It felt so close, as if it was leaning right up against my neck.

I swoop low, dashing through the clouds trying to make out a way to lose the monster. I dash left, right, then left again and descend even further down towards the ocean. My pursuer is still laughing, clearly having the time of their life

I feel my body swerve to the right and go through what looks to be a rock formation. Tall, rocks creating a thin narrow passage large enough for me to slip through with ease. I look back again shocked to see the savage creature is no longer behind me. It must be too big to get through here, thank the Gods.

The Gods don’t look down on me with favor for much longer as my luck soon runs out when I come out on the other end of the formation into the beast’s territory. I can sense it, both the man and his beast’s eyes focused directly on me never letting up. Watching closely, ready to blindside me with an attack.

Laughing is soon replaced by the sound of grunting and yelling. The person starts shouting in what I can only make out to be frustration and seemingly annoyance. As if the chase was no longer fun, more frustrating than thrilling. I can't figure out what they're saying. The words make no sense to me. Sounds roll off their tongue that I can't relate to anything I’ve ever heard before. 

"Gēlȳni enkā gon Jemēla!”

My eyes shut, I know deep down what my fate is, but I do not want to face it. Not again.

Please not again.

“Taoba!“  

Suddenly I turn and dash up making my way towards my assailant. As soon as we cross paths, fire, a burning unforgiving flame is spat out straight across the creature's face. 

As I go higher the air seems to become thinner and I'm doing myself no favors by breathing so heavily. However, that doesn't matter because I finally see the light. The clouds lighten from a harsh mix of black and gray to a soft fluffy white. Bits and pieces of the sky have become blue once more and the sun shines so brightly that I have to turn my head away. At last, there’s no more screaming, taunting laughs or roars of rage, just pure silence. 

My clothes are still wet, my hair has dried and blown out of my face thanks to the strong winds. I checked my surroundings and let myself release a sigh of relief; I escaped.

The voice returns to me through the wind's gilding past. 

“My sweet boy.”

An Earth-shattering screech thunders throughout the sky. My head immediately snaps towards my front and all I can make out are teeth and the same smell of rotten meat but by the time I realize my fate it's already befallen me. I can feel my body being impaled on what feels like dozens of spears, I hear the crack of my own bones breaking and the squelch of my innards bursting open.

My body is spat out, spiraling downwards towards the unforgiving waves of the ocean. I can see blood, It looks sort of like red mist as it flows through the air along with pieces of flesh and other, larger body parts I can’t recognize raining down along with it

The last thing I hear is my attacker yell out.

“No!”

Please let it be over. 

Luke’s eyes snap open, an unbearable pressure pressing down on his chest like an elephant using his breastbone as a step stool.

His throat is dry and scratchy, as if all the moisture from his spit glands has been sucked out and replaced with dirt. His own tongue tastes awful in his mouth, a revolting sourness causing his lips to purse only to be met with pain. Muscles in his jaw aching and nearly impossible to move without the grit of his teeth catching between sensitive insides of sore cheeks.

His vision is fuzzy at first, a sore feeling tingles at the back of his eyelids and the headache inducing bright lights of wherever he is aren’t doing much to aid in the matter. He tried to move but found himself stuck in place; it felt as though his limbs had been put to sleep. 

The brightness dims slowly but surely, steadily making way for his sight to settle until he can get a better look at his surroundings.

He's in a room, that parts obvious enough. Everything is either white or that weird shade of green that people like to get into arguments about whether it’s actually blue or not.

Luke inhales, attempting to scent the air around him but smells nothing- literally nothing. He takes another breath, deeper this time only to for a stabbing sensation to rush across the center of his face. Soon finds out that scrunching his nose in any way at all results in the same feeling. 

It takes an embarrassingly long while before he decides to stop fucking with face and start observing his whereabouts.

To his left is a window taking up the entirety of painfully white walls free of any curtains. The sun is out; Luke can feel the warmth kiss his skin through the glass. Had he not been fucking paralyzed at the moment he might have been able to enjoy the view. Always a sucker for pretty scenery.

To his right is a sliding glass door offering a clear view of people in scrubs and white coats walking by, some in a rush while others take their precious time. 

A hospital?

Only then does he notice a slow beeping in the background. Eyes rolling until the sight of various monitor's came into view. Jumbled numbers and signals that reviled Valyrian hieroglyphics only served to make that heaviness on his chest grow heavier.   

Luke thinks back, searching through his scrambled head for anything that happened to get him caught up in an episode of Grey's Anatomy. 

A woman holding a mask over his mouth, hands pressed against his forehead as a bright light was shone in his eyes. Voices bouncing but unable to piece together any words that were spoken. 

Sydney, beaten bloody. Passed out cold and barely breathing.

Thoughts of his foster sent all of last night's memories rushing back in, Luke thanks whatever twisted version of luck that's on his side for the fact that he's laying down. Otherwise, he would've been on out cold on his ass from the blow.

Being dragged across the living room by his hair, busting his knee trying to escape upstairs.

Cops pulling him off the bed to the ground.

Being handcuffed.

Luke puts in as much effort as he can into moving but his body won’t cooperate. Starting to freak under the pressure the brunet's heart feels like it's going a hundred miles a minute, his palms clammy and damp from sweat that gathers in no time. Trying to control his breathing isn’t working, if anything it's making everything worse from panic to pain. Close to tears as he's certain his heart is going to beat out of his chest.

Loud sirens soon replaced steady beeps as the monitor go haywire, hollering rings alerting the nurses outside of his door. Out of nowhere a petite woman dressed in blue scrubs comes rushing in. She’s touching the wires and moving around cords hanging over him, looking back she calls out.

“Doctor Martell, the boy is awake!”

She gets in his face and slowly shakes him, reaching for something he couldn't see until suddenly the toes he never stopped trying to wiggle began to move. Regains control of his limbs in a near instant Luke starts to shimmy around the bed. Limbs tingling like mint replacing blood in his veins.

The woman warns him to stop for reasons his mind doesn't comprehend. And to tell the whole truth, he wouldn't give a shit about anything she’s saying even if he did. 

Just then, he moves his head completely to the right of him only to find his wrist trapped in shiny silver handcuffs attached to the rail of the hospital bed.

Fuck.

Chapter Text

The sight of his wrist in cuffs sent Luke spiraling into a violent panic. Pulling himself up as far as his abused body would allow until he began tugging at his restrained arm as hard as possible, hissing as hard silver dug into tender skin. Uncaring of the bruising that would likely come about considering his entire damn body felt like one enormous bruise already.

Using his opposite hand, Luke grabbed the chain linking tight cuffs to his bed and tugged so hard his overworked nerves stung from the force. Ringing off alarms at the back of his head that if he kept going on like this he'd be left without a hand. Harsh red indentations burned into his palms from sharp fingernails treating the soft tissue like a pin cushion.

As he struggled, certain areas of his body felt like they were being split open from the inside out. If the boy's throat didn’t hurt before it definitely did now thanks to his screaming and animalistic grunts. Pain spread from his head all the way to his toes, if he didn’t know any better Luke would’ve sworn he was being ripped apart limb from limb.

Out of the corner of his eye Luke saw multiple people in the crowded hospital hall staring at him through glass doors. Employees and visitors alike gawking at the scene he was making. Some looked concerned, worry etching into their features at what could possibly be causing him to flop around like a pig trying to escape a muddy pen, while others were clearly amused by his pain like a practicing gaggle of sadists.

Embarrassment would’ve filled Luke in any other scenario, however the only thing on his mind was getting out of these gripping restraints.

The poor woman who Luke assumed to be a nurse looked downright terrified. Walking in with her head held high and now backed into the corner of the room furthest away from him with wide, glassy eyes. Arms wrapped around herself as if she was trying to appear small enough to disappear into sterile air. 

Sad as it was her obviously overwhelming fear at Luke’s actions didn’t stop him, the brunet's body now hanging halfway off the bed while using his handcuffed arm for leverage. As soon as his foot hit the floor a stabbing pain shoot through his knee sending him toppling to the ground, hissing at the feel of needles spreading.

This in turn also caused the heart monitor parked next to the bed to fall on his back, heavy equipment landing atop his tender body. Screaming bloody murder when hard metal made contact with his caving stomach.

Blood ran down his forearm, dripping slowly from where the IV that Luke had unknowingly been stuck with was pumping fluid into him, was snatched from his vein. The tape which had previously held it in place coming off right along with a top layer of skin. A few irritation bumps following behind too.

Luke knew for certain that he looked like a spooked horse fighting to escape its stall.

“Fuck!” He shrieked, free hand gripping his knee. Rocking side to side on his surely busted hip. His cuffed wrist was his only saving grace from lying face down in smears of his own blood, now soiling once white floors.

Two men in green scrubs, both who looked more fit for a wrestling ring than whatever their current job consisted of, ran into the room and crowded around him. One man setting the heart monitor back up while the other picks Luke up bridal style. Muttering something under his breath about incompetent coworkers.  

The frightened nurse returned from the corner, quickly picking up the blanket and pillows Luke threw from the bed during his fit. Gently, the man carrying Luke lays him back down while another nurse covers his exposed body blanket, loosely tied strings having been completely undone. Baring ass for the entire room to see. 

Out of the blue Luke feels a small pin prick at his skin, turning to his left he sees the woman has his arm in her hand as she reinserts the IV. Securing it with three passes of tape and a look in her eye that threatened she'd staple them if need be. 

Luke observes the men for a second time; they're tall as all hell and have the physique to match. Presumably here to handle patients that prove too violent. Luke preens in the tiniest scrap of satisfaction at making that list in all his of one-hundred and ten pounds of glory.

“Are you done trying to escape?”

Luke is greeted by a man in a white coat who he assumes is the same doctor his nurse who now busied herself with fluffing pillows was calling for. Luke would go out on a limb and say the big shot in question was middle aged, mid-fifties at most but even that was pushing it. He wore cartoonishly round bifocals and a butt ugly tie around his neck printed in about three dozen different patterns. Overall, the man looked like a dad joke personified.

Luke doesn't answer, choosing to remain silent, not counting his whimpers of pain every few seconds. His entire body aching like it had been run over by a Mack truck going a hundred miles without stopping on the peddle. His knee was hot to the touch. Attempting to move it in any capacity did nothing other than make the unbearable pain worse.

Luke felt his cheeks go warm once it settled in that the doctor had seen his unbecoming display. His natural instinct to insult the peewee looking prick dying on Luke's lips when he holds one hand up. 

“Before we start, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Doctor Martell, and you have been under my care here at Sandstone health for the past three days.”

Luke’s mouth falls agape at the admittance. Struggling to digest the man's words. Three days wasn't a short amount of time considering the circumstances. There’s no way in all seven hells he’s been passed out for that long.

Doctor Martell snickers in his hand, turning to the glorified goons in scrubs who were now standing to the side seemingly awaiting further instruction and waves them off with a flick of his wrist. The bumbling nurse stays however, wiping down everything that tumbled onto the floor after Luke during his graceless fall.

The doctor retrieves a rolling chair tucked from within the corner and rolls over to Lukes's bedside. 

Martell smiles, adjusting his tie as he sits comfortably. “The confusion on your face is as clear as day, so allow me to explain.” He starts, clearing his throat which must've been some sort of signal since the nurse pauses her cleaning to hand him a pair of latex gloves.

“You were rushed into my ER by paramedics at 1:26 in the morning on November 28th." Checking his watch for what could only assume to be dramatic affect. "Today is December 1st, and the current time is four in the afternoon. Sorry to say, you missed lunch.”

The words don't settle, refusing to make sense no matter how slowly Luke sets them on repeat. Muttering it back to himself in hopes hearing it on his own tongue would make things click. They don't. 

The doctor continues after giving the brunet some time to adjust. “I’m going to be completely honest with you Luke- you’re not in the best of shape. Both your fibula and tibia in your right leg are sprained, your kneecap is fractured into two pieces, and your lip was split pretty badly. But thanks to good some stitching that's healing up quite nicely already. Last but not least your nose is broken into a few separate pieces.” Tapping at his own, the thick pair of glasses shaking from the movement. "Right at the bridge."

Without warning Luke feels something cold and damp pat at his head. Looking up to see the nurse dipping a wet rag in a plastic bowl and proceeding to gently tap his forehead. 

Doctor Martell swiftly aligns his finger in Luke’s line of sight; the teen takes it as a hint to follow along.

“All of the injuries I listed won't prove anything serious for you in the long term. Child’s play if we’re being honest. You’re young and can bounce back from a majority of sprained and broken bones no problem.” He pulls out a flashlight silently asks for permission before shining it into Luke’s eyes.

“What actually worried me was the bleeding on your brain we found.”

Luke is puzzled. He heard every word clearly but still had trouble making sense of them. A common theme for the day. "Bleeding on my brain?” Did Sydney hit him that hard? "A brain bleed?" Repeating the words, not a fan of the way they sounded to his ears.

“Yes, a brain bleed." He confirms, clicking off the light, " Or a hemorrhage in more medical terms. This can happen when heavy trauma is dealt to the head; a motorcycle accident where the rider isn't wearing a helmet for example. In your case I'm going to assume the bleeding was caused by the police officer who held his foot to the back of your head.”

He’s staring at Luke, eyebrows quirked and lips pursed. An expression that says, ‘did I hit the nail on the head?’

Luke isn't impressed. More weary now than anything. “How do you know about that?”

Rather than answering, Doctor Martell’s hands reach towards the laces of Luke’s hastily closed hospital gown. He doesn't open it at first, instead looking at Luke as if asking for permission.

Luke is surprised at that; the few times he had gone to a doctor they simply did what they wanted and told him what to expect during the fact. But then again, most alleged doctors that worked inside the foster center probably hadn't held a license in decades.

Giving the go ahead, Doctor Martell proceeds to open his gown. Carefully assessing the bruises and welts decorating Luke’s torso with his warm gloved hands. Pressing down on them every so often to look for any reaction.

Blue and purple patches littered Luke’s upper body from his lanky chest down to his belly button. The white gauze wrapped around his middle is stained with numerous brown spots, presumably dried blood. He looked like roadkill. Luke bet that if he posted a picture of the colorful bruises to Tumblr with a grainy filter it would get at least a couple thousand notes by the end of the day. Those freaks ate shit like that up.

“To answer your previous question; when Arryn, one of our paramedics, brought you in she informed me that when she went to retrieve her initial patient, a man by the name of Sydney Winston. That an officer had you face down on the ground with his foot planted on the back of your head with what she thought was an exorbitant amount of pressure.”

Continuing his explanation, Martell sighs. “The pressure that officer put on your skull was so harsh it caused a slight rupture to one of the blood vessels in your brain. That mixed with added head trauma from your foster fathers’ assault, was the perfect recipe for a bleed to occur.”

The Doctor holds up his hand. “Can you please tell me how many fingers I’m holding up.” 

“Two.” Luke answers. Trying his best to focus on his breathing, stress building by the second.

“Good, how many am I holding up now?”

Rolling his eyes Luke goes along with it. “Four...So how did you find out I was…. hemorrhaging?” He asked hesitantly.

“We took into account your symptoms. Arryan stated you were exhibiting all the classic signs of a hemorrhage upon arrival. Light sensitivity, dizziness, slurred speech- so on. To verify our assumption we did a CT scan. During your scan we spotted a ruptured blood vessel in your parietal lobe.” The Doc' reached inside his coat before pulling out a large envelope.

“Here are the pictures we took during the scan in case you’re interested.”

Luke accepted, hurriedly opening the thick paper until he struck gold, turning the pictures every which way possible. His brain oddly resembled one of those ink blobs therapists showed their patients, two squiggly splotches surrounded by a white ring. If he didn’t know any better Luke would’ve thought the picture was of a chicken embryo.

Pointing at a tiny white circle in between the blobs, Doctor Martell derailed into another explanation. “That right there, is the bleeding.” 

Still looks like an embryo, Luke thought. Taking the man's word as fact before handing the pictures back with a shrug, no longer interested. More caught up in another matter. “The paramedic, Arryn, you said. She says I was slurring my words?"

“Yes, she told me you attempted to speak with them, but they weren't able to understand what you were trying to say.”

Luke thinks back to that night, the confusion and restlessness, how he could barely stand up without stumbling over his own feet.

“Is he going to be ok?” He asks, doing his best to resist the now howling cops trying their best to drag him back to their car.

Resisting arrest be damned, he was already in knee deep in shit. He needed to make sure Sydney wasn't about to be dumped into a body bag and rolled straight to someone's morgue. Needs to know for certain he hasn't taken a life, but his fears aren't soothed because neither of the paramedics' answer, instead they stare at him in confusion. Faces scrunched as if he were speaking another language.

“Is he?” Luke screams until his throat goes raw, probably bleeding from the force. He’s struggling in the cops hold, refusing to leave until he receives a proper answer. Nothing comes, instead the paramedics' look of confusion morphs into worry, turning to speak with the pricks that have his hands tied behind his back.

Luke’s frustration at the situation is apparent, why are they ignoring him? 

Could they really not understand a word he was saying the whole time? He didn’t sound weird to himself.

Doctor Martell snaps his fingers, bringing Luke out of his head in one movement. “Now let's discuss your other situation. I haven't yet informed them, but there are four officers on the first floor waiting for you to wake up. According to them taking you into custody is of an urgent matter.” 

“Aren’t I already in custody?” Luke asked, holding up his cuffed arm as high up as he could. It was obvious that he had been caught and even more so that he wasn't in any shape to make a run for it.

“No, actually. At the moment you're in the hospital's custody as per policy. And because you’re my patient, I decide whether or not you’re in well enough shape to be handed off to law enforcement.”

He scoots his chair closer to Luke until they're close enough to whisper. “Arryn told me that officer Tucker; the man who we assume caused your condition works at the facility the state plans on sending you to. I think the best course of action here would be to prolong your stay for as long as possible until Arryn and I can get a proper complaint filed. How does that sound?”

Luke stares blankly, frowning at the man as if he’s grown an extra head mid conversation. 

Martell takes that as a sign to keep going. “I’m here to pretend I know all the details about what happened between you and your foster father. I'm also not going to act as if I know why the entire sheriff's department has been stepping in and out of my hospital asking about your condition every time I try to have my break. What I do know is that I have cared for many survivors in my career." A tentative hand reaching out. "Let me help you Luke, as much as I can.” 

Tears he hadn't felt welling slid down Luke’s face at the words, salt flooding his mouth as he licked capped lips. 

This man: this stranger who didn't know him from a can of paint wanted to help. The hushed tone in his voice making it obvious he was breaking some sort of guidelines by even making this suggestion. But as much as Luke wanted to trust him, he couldn’t find the courage. Memories of those who promised Luke safety and security only to leave him high and dry burned worse than the pain in his leg.

Memories of waiting outside a new friend's house whose parents had promised to let him stay as a means of escaping his foster parents' abuse eventually turning him away at their doorstep. Deciding it wasn’t safe to get involved in other people’s business before shutting the door without another word.

How the elderly woman that lived next door when he was twelve constantly swore that she would call the authorities if she ever saw him with another bruise, but when a freshly broken nose or deep cut appeared she simply pretended she hadn’t noticed. Going on about her day without a care in the world.

Luke wouldn’t be played for a fool, not again. He refused to hope when it would only be crushed under the pressure. Unable to continue onward when things got too hard to withstand for whoever chose to sing sweet promises.

“I don’t need your help.” Luke whispered before looking away. Telling himself that the man in front of him was no different from the rest. That his knightly promises were empty and would ultimately leave Luke worse for wear.

“I understand you may be weary-”

He laughs; it’s a nasty thing. Filled with anger and dripping bitterness. “Let's say I go along with this concept of a plan. What happens next? I can’t stay here forever and no offense, but a complaint against one douchebag isn't going to do what you think it will.”

“Sandstone health has many connections with child welfare." Martell throws out. "Arryn and I are very respected here; we'll vouch for you and potentially get you moved to a much safer facility than the usual.”   

Met with silence, Doctor Martell pinches the bridge of his nose. “I knew this wouldn't be easy; however, I must admit a part of me hoped you would be willing to jump on board.”

The man's smile doesn't falter but instead turns glum, taking his hand back after waiting to meet Luke's touch without reciprocation. Understanding he couldn't force an unwanted bond. “I can’t force your hand, although I will urge you to take my words into consideration.” 

The silence once he finishes is uncomfortable.

“I wish I could do more, kid.” He says, more so to himself before his dejected demeanor fades, replaced by the white coat who walked in with all the confidence in the world. 

“You should make a fine recovery with appropriate around the clock care. With that and a dozen rounds of physical therapy, you'll be up and running in no time. Bad news is that It’s going to take a good chunk of time for you to make that recovery and even then, I can’t say with certainty that you’ll be one hundred percent back to normal-”

“-A hemorrhage, especially one in the brain is nothing to make light of, even in the mildest cases. Your first few weeks of recovery are going to be difficult, Mr. Rivers. You’ll notice you're more sensitive to light and loud noises, as well as not being able to pronounce certain words as properly as you should. To aid in your recovery, staying away from strenuous physical activity of any kind is non-negotiable. Try your best in physical therapy and make sure to get a proper amount of sleep; eight hours nightly, no exceptions.”

As soon as the words leave Doctor Martell’s mouth Luke feels his heart skip a beat. “If I don’t get enough sleep?”

Doctor Martell shakes his head, biting down on his lips. “Then you put yourself at risk for a stroke, which in turn can cause permanent loss of certain cognitive functions. Think of it like this; after breaking a leg you have to rest it. Use a pillow to elevate it for good blood flow and avoid walking around without support for as long as possible so it can heal properly. The same goes for your brain after a bleed. It needs those hours of rest and recuperation so it can heal. Understood?”

Luke nods reluctantly. I’m fucked.

The Doc looks down at his watch. “In little under half an hour Nurse Varn- the woman from before, shaky thing, easily distressed. Is going to wheel you to our radiology center downstairs for another scan. Get some new pictures. Much better ones hopefully."

Luke ignores the doctor's sudden giddiness, instead choosing to say something that's sat heavy on his mind since the start of their conversation.

“You said the paramedics thought I had a brain bleed. If that's true, why did they put me to sleep then? I’ve always heard that when someone's head gets screwed up you weren't supposed to let them fall asleep. Concussions and all that.”

Martell hums. “That’s only in cases of incredibly severe trauma to the brain. Though what happened to you is not to be taken lightly, it was not the worst of the worst. As I said, Arryn saw you were showing signs of a potential bleed and thought to bring you here immediately. Having said that, you were pretty agitated, so she decided some mild sedation was necessary.” 

Understandable, he can admit. Luke was never any fun to deal with when he was high off irritation. Prone to worse tantrums than any toddler Tessa used to say. Yet from what he remembers they started strapping down his legs down before things got anywhere near difficult. Doing the same to his arms couldn't have been all that much worse. Especially not if they wanted to avoid knocking him out for an extended weekend.

Gods: have things in his life truly spiraled so out of control that he's wondering why doctors didn't throw him in a strait jacket in the name of safety?

Doctor Martell, who by this point Luke is certain was a mind reader, interjects his silent train of thought. “Normally administering a small amount of anesthetic to calm patients is fine so long as the person giving it has the proper experience. The sedative was meant to relax you, the fact that it put you to sleep was very unexpected.”

Luke blinks, eyes searching the room to see if he was being watched by a live audience or if his luck truly was that awful. “I'm sorry. You're saying they accidentally put me in... a coma?” Stretching his words out because they were just that egregious.

While admittedly he didn’t know shit about medicine, the teen is confident in his ability to sniff out negligence. 

Maybe I can sue and run away to Essos with the cash.

Martell on the other hand rolls his eyes “We could have woken you up easily with the right medication. The only reason we refrained is because we figured it was best to let you stay under. Though it’s not common knowledge, a medically induced sleep can be beneficial for healing a brain injury.”

Before Luke could call bullshit, Nurse Varn, who Luke had forgotten was still in the room, tapped Doctor Martell’s shoulder.

“Doctor, Mr. Rivers' appointment in radiology is scheduled for five minutes from now. We should start to prep.”

“Thank you Varn, seems I lost track of time.”

Right then another nurse walks into the room with a wheelchair in hand and a look of boredom clear as the skies in Lys.

The Doc looks to Luke “I assume you’ve never had a CT scan done before now?”

“Not while conscious”

Huffing out a laugh he replies, “Well it’s very simple, i’ll explain what’s going to happen on our way there.”

Luke had no way to describe how he currently looked.

The image in the mirror looking back at him was almost unrecognizable. His nose was currently bandaged under layers of gauze as Nurse Varn explained to him yesterday that it had been broken in four exact pieces. Even though Doctor Martell did his best, Luke’s nose would potentially heal slightly crooked. 

Dried scabs covered his cheeks and forehead from cuts he hadn’t been aware he received, the skin around his left eye was deep purple and puffy while his right, while not blacked, was bloodshot. While his busted lip had a handful of stitches sewn through it and was almost healed enough to remove them, Doctor Martell assuring Luke he would be able to take them out before he leaves, so that counts for one small victory.

A large handprint shaped bruise circled around Luke’s neck like a choker. Looking at it made him nauseous, just as he had been that night. Sour sickness swirling around in his guts with nowhere to go but up.

Sighing, Luke closed the portable mirror one of the night nurses had given him to look at. Taking pity on the brunet since he wasn't able to make it to the bathroom on his own without an added hand. The humiliation at having a chaperone every time he needed to relieve himself in case he tried to make a run for it with his underwear down was bad enough. To throw anything else into that awful mix would be downright dehumanizing.

Even if the embarrassment factor was erased from the equation, Luke knew asking someone if they could help him assess the damage he'd taken to the face in the mirror, sounded like more than an awkward request.

Excuse me I know you’re busy at the moment, but could you help me to the restroom? No, I don’t need you to wipe my ass. I just want to stare at myself and cry for about ten minutes while you're forced to watch. Do you mind?

That wasn’t happening so long as Luke still had any say so in his life.

Two days have passed since Luke woke up and surprisingly his prolonged stay hasn’t been as bad as he imagined it would be. Before now the teen had never stepped foot inside of an actual running hospital in his life. He’s sat in nursing offices awaiting test results and peed in cups at clinics on plenty of occasions, but never an actual hospital. You know- where doctors perform surgery and all that fun shit.

Most people told him they found the sleek sterile environment of hospitals to be suffocating and nerve wrecking. Luke found that he enjoyed it. Maybe it’s because he hate’s filth or perhaps being a strapped down coma patient was his inner calling. Who knows.

Luke does still have some memories from when he was a kid; him and his mother living in various dirty apartments and squatting in broke down trailer homes. Unwashed dishes piled up in the sink, mysterious stains littered the carpet, all sorts of bugs roaming around at night eating crumbs off the floor. If Luke had a dollar for how many times a cockroach crawled out of his book bag during popcorn reading or recess, he would be loaded.

It was obvious to other kids Luke's age that he wasn’t well off, and because of that he became a target. Kids were just built that way after all, they could smell insecurity on you better than they could smell their own breath, and the vulnerability wafting off of a young Luke was irresistible.

Clothes were torn at the seams and covered in mysterious stains, his shoes were caked in dirt with the soles hanging on by a thread. Teachers would look at Luke in pity; one even asking him if everything was ok at home while in clear earshot of the other students. It was degrading.

After he was taken out of his mother’s custody and placed in foster care is when he realized that the places he and his mom lived in didn’t even scratch the surface of what it meant to live in squalor.

On occasion Luke’s thoughts roamed over to his mother. How she was holding up. If his absence upset, her or was she still too wrapped up in her own shit to care. Did she regret losing him? Was Luke worth enough to regret losing.

“How are you holding up in here?” 

Luke flinches when Doctor Martell abruptly announces his presence, a dopey smile on his face and an even uglier tie than yesterday's tight at his collar.

The teen was quickly beginning to understand that Martell was the sort of man who tore down every preconceived notion about the medical field you may have had. Coming to realize the actors dressed in white coats with faces caked in stage makeup parading around on tv were nothing like the real thing. The man wasn't an authority who commanded respect whenever he walked into the room. Instead, his bad puns and inability to resist repeating useless Google facts, proved that he was just some guy who somehow passed enough tests to legally dig into people's insides and threaten to use the largest needle if you didn't stop squirming.

Though Luke was certain the needle incident was illegal in several states.

He rolled his eyes at the doctor. Allowing his back to fall against freshly fluffed pillows. “Pretty fucking bad considering I look like something a camel spat out.” 

Martell rolls his eyes back. Childish. “Let me rephrase; how are you feeling physically?”

“I’m fine. Well, except for not being able to walk and all.” It's almost been a week since his feet touched the ground without beaten up legs giving out beneath him. Whatever nurse on duty verbally lashing out at him for being a stubborn pain who refused to ask for help. More for their benefit than his considering every mess Luke made was a cleanup job for them.

It made him want to climb to the roof and scream.

The Doc being the mind reader he is, sensed every complaint his patient was going to throw out if given ample time. “Everything will be okay, Luke. I know five weeks is a long time to wait until you're up on your feet again, but it'll have passed before you know it. By then you’ll be ready for the wonderous joys of physical therapy.”

Luke despised the man's constant optimism. He didn’t want to think on the bright side or look forward to the future. What he wanted was to wallow in his own suffering, not be forced to look at the glass half-full. He thinks he’s earned it.

“Speaking of physical therapy-” Martell doesn't find a chance to finish his sentence as he's cut short by a loud knocking at the door. So rough it was a miracle that shiny glass didn't break under the pressure.

In a shocking turn of events, the visitor's outside of Luke's room were the same officers that arrested him, their faces ones he couldn't forget in the worst way possible. To their right stood a woman with tight curls, likely a bad perm, holding a clipboard in one hand and a soda in the other.

Doctor Martell looked somewhat annoyed as he grits a sharp. “Come in.”

The officers walk in with their hands planted firmly on the pistols tucked at their side. A switch in their walk that made it look as though both men were dealing with an uncomfortable itch rather than the big dick sheriffs they attempted to embody. The former more than likely being correct considering the bearded one not so subtly adjusting himself.

“Sorry to interrupt doc, but we have some things to discuss with our lovely little charge here. You mind giving us some space” The bald cop whose name was apparently Tucker, spoke.

“I don’t know if you realize officer, but I’m currently having a conversation with my patient. We’re in the middle of discussing some important matters.” Martell bites back.

“Oh? Can I ask what these important matters are?” The woman speaks up, her voice still gruff with sleep. Stepping between her guard dogs and the doctor. 

She was short, chipped polish painted nails on her stocky fingers bitten down to numbs that were almost harder to look at than the deep-set bags that hung under drooping eyes. To say she looked overworked would be the understatement of the decade. This woman looked near half dead.

However, Doctor Martell was a vision of health and made sure it was apparent. “Considering that Mr. Rivers is my patient it does not concern you or these...fine gentleman.” 

“That’s where you’re mistaken, Doctor." Head jutting to the pig on her right, the man immediately reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a crumpled card. Handing it to Martell with a grin. "My name is Marleya Saint Patrick, and I work for Dornish social services. Your patient, Luke Rivers has been assigned as my charge for hospital checkout and transport. And until he’s officially housed at Hell Hot juvenile, anything that has to do with him is of my concern.” 

Doctor Martell's fist clenched in defeat as he reluctantly stood up. “You have twenty minutes.” Turning to Luke before leaving. “If you need anything I'm right down the hall, don’t hesitate to use the call button on the remote.” 

The woman, Marleya was it, looked to her clipboard. “You fine gentlemen may leave as well.” She ordered the cops, not even bothering to look at the disgruntled pair as they huffed in displeasure. Leaving without so much as a quarter of the gall they entered with.

She must be their boss.

Placing her drink on the food tray still standing at the end of Luke’s bed from his lunch, Marleya took her spot in the same seat Doctor Martell occupied minutes ago.

“That's for you” Pointing at the dented soda can with the tip of her pen as she searched through various sheets attached to the pad in her lap. “As I said my name is Marleya Saint Patrick- I prefer you refer to me by my last name and nothing else. I work for Dornish social services as you heard and due to your current state, I've been sent here to confirm some information with you about your person.”

“Well then you can go. Everything about me is already on file. You don't need my help.” 

A week from now Luke’s days of lounging about in warm sheets and hanging off the edge of his seat as badly acted soaps that entertained him throughout the night, would come to a close. locked away in a cage like a trapped baby blue bird whilst suffocating in a hellhole on the stench of days old sweat. Aggressively horny men and boys with anger issues that the Gods themselves couldn’t handle, roaming around with a nose made for huffing out fresh meat. 

Excuse Luke if he didn’t prefer spending his last ounces of time as a free man giving some brain-dead social worker who obviously lost her own will to live quite long ago, answers to questions she already knew the answers too.

The woman turned her head down slightly as she pinched the bridge of her nose in annoyance. 

Well fuck you too.

“Let me repeat my statement. We already have your information. Yes? All I need to do is confirm with you that it is the correct information. Normally we would do this with your case worker but considering Mr. Tully’s current condition, that isn’t possible.”

Luke’s chest got tight at mention of the name. How could he have forgotten? Mr. Tully has been his case worker for the past three years, a good man from what Luke could tell, not the most welcoming person out there, but once he loosened up to whatever shitty characteristics you had he grew warmer. 

“Is something wrong with Mr. Tully?” He asks, voice heavy with concern.

Eyes steady focused on her clipboard, the social worker ignores his question and proceeds with asking her own

“Can you confirm your full government name, date of birth, and the state in which you were born?”

“I’m not telling you shit until you answer my question.” Luke spit. Unwilling to give a mile when he barely would receive an inch in return.

She sucks her teeth. “Though would like to answer your question disclosing Mr. Tully’s private information is strictly prohibited. I apologize, however there is nothing I can do for you in that matter.”

It's hardly anything he can work with, but it is something. Maybe the woman did have a soul hidden behind those dying eyes.

“My name is Luke Rivers." He answers unhappily. "I was born October 31st, 2005. Stone Edge, Harrenhal.” 

Jotting down his words with a quickness, Marleya moves on to the next question. “Next I need the names of both your biological parents as well as an explain in at least two sentences as to why you were removed from their care.”

“My mother’s name is Cathryne Rivers; I was taken away from her-”

Marleya clicks her tongue disapprovingly “I asked for both of your parents' names' sweetheart.”

There was a lot Luke learned to deal with being a child of the system. Being ignored, looked over, and flat out insulted right to his face to name a few. All of that he could take on the chin. Knowing that his words could strike back like venom if he wanted them too. But being patronized was a different story all together. Got under his skin like a dirty needle. Especially coming from people who barged into his life as if he owed them.

He didn't force anyone into a shit career with even shittier pay; they made those decisions all on their own.

Luke grappled with the overwhelming urge to shove that pen right up Miss Saint Patrick's condescending ass. Though that would prove a tough challenge taking into consideration how tight he saw her clenching earlier. 

“I never knew my father. If I wasn’t obvious by my not mentioning him.” Rolling his eyes as he reaches for the remote. Nothing worth watching would be on for hours but flipping through crap middle day talk shows was worth more of his time.

Even so, the social worker continued checking off details of Luke’s life. 

No, Luke has never been adopted, nor has any couple been interested enough to throw out the idea. There was a constantly ticking clock on that kind of thing, and at the ripe age of six Luke was well past his prime years for anyway halfway decent family to start thinking of him as anything more than a glorified pet they were being paid to sit.

In the system, if you were old enough to talk back getting adopted was like winning the lottery. People wanted babies, little things they could bend to their will. Having preferences or any thoughts and feelings of your own made that impossible. By the time you've reached double digits you’re nothing more than an ungrateful brat ready to undermine every strictly set rule.

Being an older child also served as a reminder to couples, the constant elephant in the room of having a child that wasn't truly theirs, not when you could easily recount your old life. Memories of outside influence like a knife to the chest for certain types.

With a baby it’s easy to forget they’re biologically someone else’s if you tried hard enough. Changed their birth name, threw out every baby bootie and blanket. Doing the with an older kid was a pipe dream. You'd be an idiot to try it.

At the age of six Luke vividly remembered his mother and her shitty partners. Was already dealing with nightmares and the midnight screams were all the proof he needed. No couple wanted to deal with that trauma, no matter how desperate.

Luke couldn’t blame them either. Nobody willingly chooses sloppy seconds, especially the damaged kind.

As the questions kept coming Luke realized he didn't have the ability to answer them anymore. Were you supposed to know your blood type? It never seemed all that important. Figuring that if he was ever in a situation where he was bleeding to death, he’d happily tell the doctors to let him go.

At least then he could get some proper rest,

Marleya stands up “That sums up everything. I’ll be on my way now.”  Before she slid the door open Luke spoke up.

“One more thing. If Mr. Tully is sick, who else handling my case? 

For a moment Luke could’ve sworn he saw pity in her eyes. But then again, who was the guy with the brain jury to accuse her of such an awful thing.

“Have a nice day Mr. Rivers. I’ll be seeing you soon.” 

Luke is left alone with nothing but the intermittent beeping of the machines around him. Looking towards the open window he can see the sun begin to set, dark purple clouds floating across the blood orange and pink sky was truly a sight to behold. Colors blending together like an oil painting come to life. The view resembled something Bob Ross would create down to every little detail. Luke could hear the man's soft tone, honey in his ear as the man explained every step.

A swarm of birds fly by; tall trees covered in the greenest leaves he's ever seen slightly shaking from the breeze. If he squinted hard enough Luke was certain he could spot a bird's nest nestled right between the two largest branches of the shortest tree.   

Wetness slides down his cheeks; he curses at himself. It seems as though all he’s had the ability to do lately is cry. 

Keeping focus on the sky, Luke watches evening birds fly high and free. 

Envy fills him, spilling over in the form of quiet cries.

Tossing and turning for the hundredth time in a row has Luke ready to jump off a building. It’s the middle of the night and he doesn't know the exact time because not only has his phone been taken to God's know where but also because the bulky tv in his hospital room can’t tell time.

Reading the analog clock nailed to the wall isn't an option since Luke never learned how, a choice he's quickly coming to regret. Cursing himself every lesson he spent daydreaming.

Doctor Martell's’ warning about resting enough for his brain to heal crosses his mind, but he can’t find it in himself to listen. Choosing to spend the night studying the random faces passing by his door and watching Golden Girls reruns. Harboring over how he would make it longer than a day once he was sent off. He didn’t have anyone in his life willing to send money to put on his commissary so energy drinks and any cigarettes he didn't have to suck creepy guards off for would be out of reach.

He couldn’t listen to music or watch tv whenever he pleased. Left helpless without any of his usual methods to avoid sleep. It would be a miracle from the heavens themselves if he lasted a week. 

Even though Luke is no stranger to falling into trouble with the law, he’s never spent an extended amount of time locked in a cell. The longest he's ever gone was about the two hours that felt as if they stretched out for months after he and Owen were brought in. Luke having barely made it to the second hour at all before spilling everything.

Owen. The name puts a sour taste in his mouth. His first love, heartbreak and betrayal all at once. Luke wondered how he was holding up, the last thing he heard about the man was that a judge denied his parole. Something having to do with being a flight risk. 

Did he ever think about Luke, he wondered. Spend his nights dreaming of their time together? Luke was undeniably loyal to him, loved him in ways no one else could. Unconditional even when it didn't feel good. When Owen's love left him bleeding and crying out for the pain to stop. He must have come across the man's mind at least once every so often.

Yearning fills his beaten heart. Choosing to pick up the remote rather than fester in loathing. Left to flip through the same thirty channels.

The next morning Luke is glued to the tv. A south park marathon had been going on for the past four hours, and he needed a good laugh. At first the episodes accomplished that, but after the millionth dead baby joke it became redundant. 

Doctor Martell came to Luke an hour ago and told him that a woman from social services would be coming to talk with him so he could ‘weigh out his options.’ Luke knew that was horse shit. Weighing your options in social worker talk translated to admitting to something you didn’t do in hopes that authorities would go easy on you. 

Did Luke nearly kill a man? Technically speaking, yes, and so that's all they would hear. The reason he did it in the first place didn't matter. Nor did it matter that if he hadn't, he'd probably be lying dead in a wooden casket buried in some shallow ditch on the highway. Maggot food for months to come. Not a soul would care that Luke wasn’t some sadistic freak who got off on hurting others, who didn't hit back unless he had to. 

But Luke knew better than anyone that truth meant nothing, what the truth looked like holding up above anything else.

From the outside looking in Sydney was a hardworking man, an outstanding citizen willing to bring a troubled young man with no home into his own. Meanwhile Luke was a violent punk who spent his time causing a disturbance in his homes and running around with drug toting fiends.

When laid out like that, given nothing but the cold hard facts of how other's saw them from the outside, a judge wouldn’t think twice about putting throwing him the book.

Luke could explain himself until his face turned purple and his eyes exploded in his skull like egg yolk frying in a skillet, but none of that would matter if all a judge could see were his wrongdoings. Casting off reason as nothing but another tired excuse.

A knock at the door interrupts Luke’s train of thought. A woman is standing in the hallway; wavy bright red hair and dressed in a sleek black suit, Feet tucked in black heeled mules that almost resembled clogs. Walking in with a crushing air of confidence once she spots Luke's eyes on her.

Amazonian is the first word that his brain shouts, rolling around in his already battered skull. She’s taller than he can rationalize, long legs striding across the room. Her face is a stone wall, not conveying the slightest amount of emotion, a mask. Luke doesn't know if he should be shaking in fear or turned on.

“Hello Mr. Rivers. My name is Jayne Snow; I’m with child welfare services at Hell Hot Juvenile.” She greets.

“Hi.” Luke replies almost too quickly for his stitched lip to follow. Hoping she didn't notice the bit of spittle that flew off his tongue  

A cheeky smile is all he gets in return. “There’s no point in small talk so let's get down to the chase, shall we. You and your foster father Sydney Winston got into an altercation on the twenty-eighth of this November, correct?”

Taking his brisk nod into account, she goes on. “Ok, I’m going to be honest with you, this entire situation will not lean in your favor. From the way you’re looking at me I’m sure you know it too. Not only do you have multiple reports filed against you from various foster parents over the last eight years which span from disrespectful behavior to outright physical violence, but around seven months ago you found yourself in some serious legal trouble having to do with a drug smuggling ordeal, correct?”

Luke looked away in shame. “Yes.” Wishing the earth would open up and swallow him whole. Leaving nothing behind but a boy shaped memory.

“You were given a plea deal in which you agreed to testify against the leader of the operation..." Trailing off as she dramatically sorted through her papers. "A man who goes by the name of Owen Hunt, in exchange for no jail time served. Recently, you broke the terms of said agreement when you caused bodily harm to Sydney Winston, correct”

“Yes.” He answers, having said the word so much it no longer sounded right. 

She folds her hands. Papers now sat neatly on his bed. “Luke, there are very few public defenders or case workers willing to help you right now. Because you’re not legally an adult, you can’t represent yourself. The only way you'd have a chance at getting a decreased sentence is by pleading guilty to assault with a deadly weapon.”

“I was protecting myself.” Luke defends.

Jayne sighs as if fighting back would be a waste of her time. “Should you plead and show remorse your sentence won’t be too steep. Pair that with some consideration to your circumstances as a child of the system and good behavior during your time serving, and you’ll likely be out in the next ten years- not counting time spent before your trial and official sentencing."

Luke knew it would come down to this but hearing it from someone else's mouth and not the voice in the back of his head made it all too real. “Is there really nobody willing to help me?” Luke's eyes are glistening with unshed tears, his heart feels heavy. It dawns on him that he truly has no one.

Her eyes are downcast as she stands, gathering her things. “I wish you a speedy recovery Luke.” Leaving him with nothing but his own thoughts, heels clicking against the tile floors.

Luke is left in the room just like how he came into the world.

alone.

Chapter Text

Hospital floors smelled like piss. A factoid Luke never imagined he'd find out from first person experience, but here we are, nonetheless. 

Currently he was faced down, ass up, and curled in the fetal position. Shame surged through his weak body. Nurse Varn's gentle arms wrapped around his middle, pleading with the teen to let her help. Sternly arguing that his slowly healing stiches would only tear and leave a nasty scar behind if he didn’t stop twisting his knee so carelessly.

Her words, though drenched in worry, fell on deaf ears. Twisting and turning restlessly as he sank further down into the ever-present tunnel of humiliation that's followed him like a foul curse since childhood. The smell of vomit was circulating, the awful stench wafting into his nose. His forehead drenched in so much sweat that it started dripping into his eyes. Chunks of yellow smeared across chin dribbling onto his gown. Luke was positive that he looked even more disgusting than he felt which made for a horrifying visual.

It was early in the morning when Luke had woken up screaming loud enough for the entire wing to follow suit. His wails scaring nurse Varn halfway to death, almost knocking the woman out of her chair. The all too real scene of blood and rose-pink innards splattering was so clear that Luke instantly felt a wave of violent nausea take over. Jumping out of his bed without second thought as the taste of bile climbed further, only to come crashing headfirst to the floor.

At that point in time, he was so preoccupied with getting to the toilet that he hadn’t noticed the grueling pain coursing through his injured leg. The sutured flesh practically screaming as he attempted to crawl to the bathroom as fast as he could.

Of course, Luke didn’t get there in time, the weight he piled atop his stomach from slithering across hard floors acting as encouragement for his half-digested dinner to make an unwanted reappearance. Vomiting not only at the foot of the bathroom door, but on himself as well.

Not embarrassing at all let Varn tell it.

Soon the adrenaline wore off, replaced by the pain from irritating his wounds beginning to kick in-  a reminder to never let his guard down when it came time to bleed.

Luke's entire leg felt like a lost colony of fire ants had borrowed their way under his skin and set his insides aflame. Apparently, dropping to the ground right onto a fractured knee led to excruciating pain. Who would've thought? The day it was declared fully healed couldn’t come fast enough. Luke promised himself to drink until his liver corroded in celebration.

Now slumped up like a putrid smelling sack of potatoes against nurse Varn, the woman hushed his cries until they wilted to soft whimpers.

“Come on dear, let's get you off this floor, okay?” She encouraged while lifting him up by his armpits. Counting their steps one at a time.

The trip back to his bed was brutal. Much more challenging than it should’ve been considering the damn thing was only three feet away. By the time Nurse Varn placed Luke back in it, the brunet was full of nothing but snot running apologies. Lamenting over how horrible of a person he'd been by getting puke remnants all over her shirt. Guilt almost unbearable as the woman gave nothing but her best smile. Brushing off tearful words off as if they were nonsense.

She helped Luke change into a new gown after throwing out his soiled one along with the floor dragged blankets. Tenderly patting away sticky sweat that had accumulated on his forehead with a cold rag before wiping leftover vomit from his lips and chin. Her soft words of comfort and what he can only describe as motherly touches made Luke melt into putty.

He’d rather eat a jean jacket than admit it outloud, but it felt good to be taken care of. 

Once he was situated with Nurse Varn sat at the foot of his bed. Gloved hands replacing his now dirtied leg bandages and checking flame-red irritated stitches for bleeding. Luke knew he should've told the woman that he was more than fine now. That the possibility of him acquiring a life-threatening infection in the half-hour it would take for another nurse to show up sitting at about one in a million.

Alas, he kept his mouth shut. Enjoying being the object of her affections even if doing so was only a part of her job description. The loser at the club every Tuesday night because the dancers obviously liked him for his personality. What a joke. 

While inspecting his knee, Varn looked up to him with a childish pout plain on her lips and concern swallowing up the whites in her eyes. “I know we’re basically strangers, but I want you to know that you can confide in me, no matter the reason.”

Luke licked his lips, slightly cringing at the lingering taste of vomit. Sticking a pin in his impending request for a brush and enough mouthwash to get wasted off. "You told me. Twice.”

Luke didn’t want to be mean to Varn. The easily spooked woman without a doubt had good intentions, of that he was confident in. It just seemed as though she was incapable of taking the hint. He was not in the mood to hold hands as he poured his heart out, with her or anyone for that matter.

Vulnerability has never been Luke's strong suit, especially not with people he didn’t know from a can of paint. Trying to open up to Tiffany had been like pulling teeth with an old pair of pilers, and he'd known her for years. So being honest without barriers to Varn was off the table.

“I did, didn’t I?” She whined. “I know I'm a bit overbearing but it’s how I show my patients love.” Covering him with a fresh sheet from the closet smelling of ammonia and Febreze. 

The combined scents fighting for the right to which one made his face prune the worst was trouble waiting to happen; fully capable of sending Luke into another three-day deep sleep. He'll ignore it...for now.

“You barely know me. I could be a baby eating cannibal and you wouldn’t have a clue in the world.” Luke quips, burrowing himself deeper under heated covers. The idea that this woman whose been in his presence for less than two weeks and really only talks to him when she’s either changing his clothes or wiping his ass, loved him was ridiculous.

“Regardless of if you believe me or not, the sentiment remains true. I love you just as I love all my patients, past, present and future ones to come. I’m simply letting you know that you can talk to me about anything on your mind. Especially when it’s causing you to wake up so frightened and sickly.”

She pats his leg and stands up “I’ll get you some ice water. I know that taste in your mouth must be really icky.” She sticks her tongue out as if she were gagging. 

Luke was then left to his thoughts.

Reluctantly he has been following Doctor Martell’s orders about getting some much-needed sleep. At the beginning he tried to ignore the doctors’ words about potential strokes and further brain damage, brushing off the man’s warning as if everything he told Luke was nothing more than an over exaggeration to scare him into compliance.

Luke had done his own extensive research years ago on the dangers of not sleeping for prolonged periods and made peace with whatever fate he received.

Then one day with nothing to do but watch shitty back to the future reruns and eat warm Jell-O he decided to be inquisitive and ask nurse Varn what would really happen if a patient didn’t sleep for a prolonged period of time after a brain hemorrhage. 

He cursed his past self for asking. To his horror the side effects of not sleeping after sustaining a brain bleed were way worse than Doctor four eyes made it seem. If Luke didn’t sleep there was a chance his hurt brain vessel would not only burst again but the stress would cause multiple vessels around it to follow suit, and if Luke somehow survived that shitshow, he would probably end up a fucking vegetable.

A single stroke? Simple and easy to survive. But becoming brain dead and being forced to live on a ventilator is where he drew the line. What made the idea even worse was that because Luke’s mother lost her parental rights leaving him legally without family, the hospital would have no choice but to keep him on a ventilator for the rest of his life, which to him sounded like the dictionary definition of inhumane.

Luke had a multitude of questions, but one he was most eager to find the answer to was if people in vegetative states dreamed. Nurse Varn admitted she had no clue and told him she would ask her colleagues but never got back to him with an answer.

If Luke rebelled and stayed awake all night watching golden girls and snickering at homophobic south park dialogue not only was there a chance that his brain would explode, making him a vegetable, but there was also a possibility he would be trapped in a never-ending dream until he croaked.

Like any logical person, Luke put his big girl panties on and closed his eyes, allowing himself to float into dreamland. 

It was awful.

Sure, there were past instances where he threw up after a dream. Every blue moon or so the almost lifelike smell of rotten flesh coming out of the monster's mouth and incredibly realistic image of his own innards floating in the sky like a balloon would have him rushing to the toilet once he woke up.

But never had it happened night after night without stopping.

Luke’s thoughts are disrupted by a soft knock at his door. If the door itself wasn’t transparent Luke would’ve thought a small child was the one asking to come in. 

“Hey Luke, how are you holding up today?” Doctor Martell asks in his usual upbeat tone. His hair was messy as always and his tie was uglier than Elon Musk, also as usual.

“I’m alright.”

“Really? Cause I heard through the grapevine that you were puking up your guts a while ago.” He said smugly.

“Your big ass ears heard wrong.”

“Really?” Doctor Martell challenges.

“Really.”

“Then do you mind explaining to me why there’s a big pile of what looks to be barf all over my floor?”

Luke’s eyes go wide as he realizes he’s been caught. He turns to look at the evidence, face as red as a tomato. 

“Seems like my big ears heard right.” He says, stupid smirk plastered across his face. 

Nurse Varn takes this as the time to come back with a large cup of water. “Good morning, Doctor Martell.” She greets, handing the cup to Luke.

“Same to you, and would you mind calling the janitor?” Pointing back to the puke.

She blushes, stammering out an apology for the mess and rushing out the door. Doctor Martell points his attention back to Luke “How are you really feeling Luke?” 

Gods, why can’t this man be detached and uncaring like most of the assholes in medicine? “If we’re being honest, I feel like shit. Like actual feces.” Luke groans. 

Today is Luke’s final day at Sandstone and he can barely hold himself together. His nerves are strung up so tight he feels as though they’re about to snap like a rubber band that had been stretched too far. 

Later today Luke is going to be signed out of the hospital and into police custody. His mind was going a thousand miles per hour.

The inmates weren’t Luke’s main source of fear, he lived in homes where couples would foster a dozen kids at a time as well as in group homes that were too tiny to fit everyone living there.

Luke had dealt with guys his age and sometimes older that thought they were tough shit and beat on anyone smaller than them to assert their dominance. It was a song and dance as old as time that Luke had learned how to handle in his own way. What actually scared him was the cruelty of the guards he would more than likely be subjected to.

Luke had known plenty of people who had been to juvie and the tales of the guards' cruelty were not anything pleasant. 

Rather than laughing as Luke expects, the man gives him a look that he can only describe as determined “I’m not going to tell you to keep your chin up or any other of that motivational speaker bullshit. What I will say is do not let anyone crush your spirit. I know for a fact that everything will work in your favor.” 

Luke has to bite his tongue to keep from laughing. “For someone who said they weren’t going to give me motivational speaker bullshit, that sounded like motivational speaker bullshit.” 

Doctor Martell shrugs his shoulders. “You get the point.”

For the final time he checks over Luke’s injuries. His lip was a couple days away from being fully healed. The scar it left was half an inch long and would take a few months to completely fade. 

The scabs on his forehead were slowly peeling, Luke had to resist the urge to pick at them. His leg would remain bandaged for the next five weeks and the stitching on his knee wouldn’t be going anywhere for the next month. Thankfully the bruises on his upper body and neck were almost entirely gone save for some red patches that looked like rug burn. 

Sadly, his nose was still messed up. It may take another 8 weeks to fully heal, so for the time being he was stuck with the gauze.

At 11:27am with a low murmur, Doctor Martell notified Luke that he was to be leaving soon. The man looked like he ached to reach out and give Luke a hug but held back.

Thanks to the help of nurse Varn and a student nursing assistant he got showered and dressed. The leg of his black sweatpants was tied up so his bandages were visible. His hair was unruly as ever, messy curls sticking out from every side from the fresh wash Varn graced him with.

At 1:39 pm Marleya and a pair of police officers Luke didn’t recognize arrived at his room. 

Marleya spoke up “Luke Rivers, you are under arrest for the assault of Sydney Winston.”

As the officer reads Luke his rights, Doctor Martell and nurse Varn step in the room with a wheelchair for Luke to leave in. They’re silent as they help Luke into the chair, making sure to give him reassuring squeezes on his shoulders as a sign of support. 

Luke doesn't have the guts to say it but he hopes they know he’s appreciative.

Bringing his hands to his lap, he closes his eyes as they cuff him. Luke has a feeling that if he looks at Martell or Varn he’ll cry on the spot, that isn’t how he wanted to be remembered.

After one last firm squeeze, he was whisked away.

The ride was uneventful. Luke kept his eyes closed for the first hour. Both officers remained silent, so it was easy to fall into a daydream just as long as he drowned out the noise of static from the cop radio. 

Marleya was right behind them in a silver SUV. Luke wished he could have ridden with her rather than dumb and dumber. He bet her car didn’t smell like chewing tobacco and onion rings.

He poked at his missing teeth with his tongue, playing with the dissolving stitches meant to close his gums. Missing teeth was an odd feeling. Even though he only lost two his mouth felt empty. He wondered if missing teeth would affect how he ate tough foods. In the hospital Luke had only been given soft foods, he ate so much mashed potatoes that now looking at a potato made his stomach bubble. It wasn’t until just yesterday that he had been allowed more solid foods.

What Luke was really craving was a bucket worth of those hard lemon candies he used to get out of the school vending machine. He would do anything imaginable to get his hands on a bag of those.

Some hours into the drive Luke had taken to watching the city fly past him out the window. Dry desert intertwining with grassy plains was a beautiful sight to see.

Dorne was unique due to the fact that their ancient architecture remained standing while other states had changed with the times, tearing down the old and rebuilding anew. Dornish leaders kept their cities the same as they had been for thousands of years before, making repairs here and there as needed. Choosing to merge the lands with modern technology rather than replace it entirely.

He pondered what other places went in the same route. 

Luke had always told himself that once he turned 18, he would go off the grid and travel across the world. He would experience the extreme cold in the north and roam the nation of Essos. 

That’s no longer an option now, I guess.

The sun was starting to set when they arrived at Hellhot. The entire plot was devoid of all earthy shrubs, filled with nothing but orange sand and cactuses. The facility was huge, made up of four separate buildings linked together by long corridors, taking up acres of land with tall, barbed wire gates and barred windows. 

Once they placed Luke back in his wheelchair, they rolled him towards his new life. 

Even Though he had crutches Luke couldn’t use them while also being handcuffed so Marleya opted for further use of the chair. Arguing that Luke needed to be handcuffed at all times until he was physically in the facility due to possible attempts at escape.

Luke concluded that she was paranoid. Did she really think he had the ability to escape when his leg was totally fucked? He couldn’t even walk to the door on his own let alone dash through the hospital to evade arrest. 

Once inside he had his mugshot taken immediately, they proceeded to uncuff and fingerprint him. Afterwards, officers finally allowed Luke to stand up and use his crutches. His bag of belongings which was empty aside from his piercing rings was confiscated.

When he asked Marleya why he couldn’t keep his earrings she looked at him as if he was missing a few screws. “Residents are not permitted to be in possession of anything sharp since they have the potential to be used as weapons. Even something as small as a piercing.” 

Marleya stayed behind as he was taken to a small room. This surprised him, Luke figured she would volunteer to search him herself.

He was patted down then completely stripped. The sensation of cool steel floors on the soles of his feet sent chills throughout his body, he winced as he accidently stepped on a cockroach scurrying by, its slimy guts splattering all over his foot. He tried to wipe the mess off the bottom of his foot as they escorted him to the back of the room to no avail. 

Luke was ordered to put his hands above his head as one officer took his waist in hand to keep him balanced while they searched him. Luke cringed at the officers’ cold hands roaming over his body. They were everywhere, caressing him in places he had sworn he would never let anyone touch or see without his permission ever again. As he felt gloved hands touch his ass cheeks he went still with shock. Whimpers escaped his lips as he felt cold fingers reach to touch inside of him. 

His toes curled and his fists clenched, the room around him seemed to be getting more cramped the longer the process of ‘searching’ him drew out. Eventually Images of his younger self splayed out on the floor, a mixture of blood and other fluids leaking out of him as it dripped down his legs while strange men took their turn on his pliant body flashed through his mind.

” How does it feel to know anyone can do anything they please to you? Come on, won’t you be a good boy and tell me, huh?” A husky voice groaned in his ear. Wet claps from skin slapping skin echoed throughout the room.

The man moaned and stilled over him “fuck yea, that’s a good little slut. You like it when I fill you with my cum, don't you, you cheap bitch.”

Just then the officer roughly snatched their fingers out of him. Luke didn’t know if he wanted to cry in pain or of joy. His skin was so itchy he could’ve sworn he was breaking out into hives. He needed a hot shower, he had to scrub the man's touch off of him right now .

They proceeded to dress Luke in an orange jumpsuit that was about two sizes too big. He could tell the uniform had been washed from the detergent stains but guessed whoever they put on wash duty wasn’t good at their job. He put his sleeve to his nose and gagged at the lingering scent of cat piss. Luke came to the conclusion that either someone had smuggled in a cat or someone with kidney failure pissed themselves. Both scenarios were equally repulsive.

After he was fully dressed and in a pair of sandals, he spun around to see Marleya. “Time for our next stop.” 

Luke’s heart dropped to the pit of his stomach. Had she been here the entire time? Did she watch as they…

They were being escorted down the building's corridor when she asked, “How was it?” 

“How was what?” Luke croaked out. She sat and watched them shove their fingers up his ass and had the audacity to ask how it was. 

“The initial processing. Getting your fingerprints, taking your picture, all that jazz?” 

“Bad,” He snapped.

The officer walking beside them gripped Luke’s arm forcefully, grunting at him to calm down. Luke instinctively recoiled from the man’s tight hold. The officer must have taken it as an act of disobedience, reaching for his baton. Marleya held her hand up and the officer released Luke’s arm and continued to escort them. 

Inside the second building were multiple rows of people sitting at computer desks talking to other inmates. The officer stayed behind while Marleya guided Luke to a man at the very end of the room, he was so focused on typing he didn’t notice them standing in front of him. Marleya slammed her fist onto the desk which caught the man's attention.

“Oh M-Mrs. Saint Patrick, I didn’t notice you.” He awkwardly laughed as he fixed his bow tie. She said nothing, gesturing for Luke to sit while she pulled up a chair.

“Hello, my name is Derrick Stark, and I will be booking you this fine evening. Your name, date of birth and all that other info are already in the system so this shouldn’t take long. First, what is your previous home address?” Derrick asked as his fingers hovered over the keyboard.

“497 southeast 23rd street, Tyrell Avenue”

His fingers hadn’t stopped before he continued his questioning “Who is your next of kin?”

“I have none.” He said lamely.

“Have you ever been convicted of or questioned for a crime previous to the one you are currently being processed for now? If so, please explain in detail what that crime was.”

Luke leaned back into the seat “I was arrested 7 months ago for involvement in a drug smuggling ring. I hid two separate kilos of coke and milk of the poppy at my foster mothers’ house without her knowledge. I was caught at a hotel room with the leader of the group then arrested and given multiple charges.”

“And why are you just now being booked?”

“I struck a plea deal with the distinct attorney to avoid jail time. I recently broke the rules of that agreement.”

The man whistled “Well that much is obvious.”

“Suck my dick.” He didn’t ask for this dollar store Jonah Hill’s snide comments. Luke was certain the man wasn’t supposed to make that type of commentary in the first place. 

Marleya smashed her fist on the desk for the second time silencing both Luke and Derrick “Enough from the both of you.” She pointed at Derrick “Do your job and keep your thoughts to yourself.” Her blazing glare cutting into the bow tie wearing man. He nervously swallowed and did as instructed. 

After twenty minutes spent answering questions Luke was taken to the medical wing where he would be spending the next few months healing and receiving treatment. Stepping in the wing Luke’s first thought was that it closely resembled Sandstone, the brightly lit sterile environment calmed Luke’s nerves. He felt the other inmates ogle him as he passed by.

He was taken to the fourth block of the wing which was where he would be living. There were two floors connected by a huge spiral staircase with about a dozen cells on each level. To his surprise the cells had doors instead of bars. 

Marleya showed Luke his cell which he shared with 3 others. He didn’t mind, he was used to sharing a space with multiple people at once. All he hoped for was that they weren’t complete psychos. 

The room was bigger than he originally thought it would be. The walls were light yellow and the view outside the window was nice, the beds felt like stone and the blankets had a texture similar to sandpaper. The singular pillow on his bed was stitched closed, but Luke guessed it was filled with newspaper from the crumpling noise it made when he touched it. Green mold was festering in two of the four corners of the room, thankfully neither were on Luke’s side.

At that moment a short haired woman in yellow scrubs walked in and laid some toiletries on his bed. “Hi, I'm Phillipa and I’m the main nurse here in the fourth block. You're Luke Rivers, correct?” She smiled.

Luke nodded. 

“Great, after you’re all settled in, I’ll show you to the common center so everyone can introduce themselves to you and vice versa” She squealed before skipping out of the room.

What a peculiar woman. She must snort the most quality coke.

Marleya groaned in annoyance. Nurse happy feet must get on her nerves often.

“That's all for today. Later on you’ll be given a file containing everything you need to know such as your ID number and day schedule. Do you have any questions or concerns?”

Luke hummed out a no as he sorted through the items placed on his bed. Did he have questions? Yes, but he could figure everything out on his own.

She looked doubtful, “Ok, have a nice day.” 

Luke resisted the urge to scoff in her face. Telling someone to have a nice day was nothing more than a polite formality and taking into account that she just put him in jail it was unwarranted.

Luke laid on his new bed, stretching his sore limbs to the best of his ability. He had a crick in his neck and a headache that could rival Essos in size. He moaned in frustration when he wiggled his toes and felt the bug remains mushed between his foot and the slipper. He mourned his freedom to shower whenever he pleased.

The medical wing wasn’t too bad from what Luke had seen, though admittedly he had not seen much to form a valid opinion. He sat back up and reached for his crutches, remembering the bubbly nurse telling him to come out after he was settled. 

As he stood up, he heard a loud thud at his room door.

“Hey new guy. You wanna know what the ghosts of people this place is buried over told me?” A husky voice called from outside. 

Luke instantly went pale.

This is going to be a problem.

Evidently, the medical wing is not only home to people who are physically unwell but also home to a handful that are mentally unwell too. There aren’t many mentally unstable patients living here, only three from what nurse Phillipa told him when she came to retrieve Luke after noticing the screaming in the direction of his room.

The guy banging on Luke’s door was apparently an addict named Ron who fucked up his brain chemistry with a shit ton of different drug concoctions. Now the poor guy roamed around here acting an ass. Luke felt bad for him but that didn’t mean he believed the steaming pile of shit nurse Phillipa tried to sell to him about Ron not being aggressive.

After witnessing him being dragged away by guards while grunting out death threats, Luke would stay as far away from him as possible.

He asked why Ron was sent to Hell hot and not a psychiatric hospital. Turns out the medical wing has a psychiatric ward but somehow Ron always managed to escape and harass people in other blocks. Phillipa told Luke it was because he was lonely.

He stopped asking questions after that.

Phillipa was currently leading him to the common center, she explained that it was similar to the courtyard in general populace, but instead of workout equipment they had board games.

It was physically impossible for Luke to roll his eyes harder.

The room was more colorful than Luke assumed it would be. White walls were covered in swirls of painted rainbows, bored games were everywhere and there was even a small flat screen TV playing Jersey Shore with the volume on mute. In the center of the room was a small couch facing the window and in front of the couch were five white chairs in a circle

There were three people in the room. First was a tall boy with bleach blonde hair standing facing the window. His uniform had been tied into a crop top while his pants hung low revealing a red thong.

Luke had never seen anything so gay, and he has literally put dicks in his mouth.

The second was a chubby kid who looked no older than 13 in the chair next to Blondie. He had long brown hair that was pulled into a high ponytail and bushy eyebrows, his uniform was a jumper like Luke’s rather than a two piece.

The last guy had an arm cast and sling. He had a hot pink mohawk and multiple face tattoos, Luke guessed he was around 19. His wife beater replaced the upper portion of his uniform which was hanging from his hips causing his pants to moderately sag. 

“Hey everyone, this is our new patient, Luke. Everyone, give a warm welcome to Luke.” Phillipa clapped her hands. 

“Hey,” they all said in unison. Luke didn’t think they could look more uninterested if they tried.

“Hi,” Luke replied dryly. 

Phillipa helped him over to an available seat. “Let's all introduce ourselves, shall we? I’m Nurse Phillipa as you all know by now and I grouped you all together. I felt it in my heart that every one of you would mesh wonderfully and encourage one another to be better individuals.” She chirped. 

Gods, she was ditzy. Could she not see that no one besides her was happy about this. Maybe she forgot that this was jail and not summer camp.

Phillipa looked around the room waiting for someone to follow in her lead, when no one did she sighed. “Now it’s time for someone else to introduce themselves.” She urged.

Blondie turned around and pointed his focus on Luke “I’m Robb, and I hate it here.” He eyed Luke up and down until he twirled back around to the window.

“Good job Robb, you said way more than you did when Cecil first arrived.” Phillipa praised.

Mr. Face tats then dramatically clears his throat “My name is Cecil and I do all my own tattoo’s.” He said smugly, lifting up his arms to show off the inked skin. It was obvious from how shitty they were that they were self-inflicted. Luke was aware that besides the Seahorse and crescent moon most of his tattoos weren’t worth showing off, but Cecil’s were awful.

Finally, the chubby kid decided to open up “The name’s Simone and I like to draw.” He slightly raised his hands and wiggled his fingers before setting them back in his lap.

Cecil laughed, “Simone is a girl's name, isn’t it?”

Before Simone could respond Luke replied, “It’s unisex.”

The group looked to Luke as if they were waiting for him to continue speaking “I’m Luke and I just got here like 30 minutes ago.” He scratched the back of his neck feeling uncomfortable. Introductions aren’t his strong suit. 

“Yea, we saw you walk in with the Saint Patrick bitch.”

“Language,” nurse Phillipa quipped sternly. Oh, she must have a complex. “Now, I'll leave you boys here to talk. Remember to be nice to one another.” She exits with a small wave.

Right as the door shuts it opens back up and a guard walks in. He stands next to the door with his face forward. 

Blondie walks over to Luke and sits in the chair previously occupied by Phillipa “Be honest, no bullshit. Did you really kill your foster father during a fight?” He crossed his legs and placed his chin on the knuckles of his fist. Cecil and Simone were also now looking at Luke in equal interest. 

While Simone still held his relaxed position Cecil leaned into Luke so far that his chair was only standing on its front two legs.

Luke was puzzled. Not only did these weirdos somehow know Luke was here because he got into it with his foster father, but they apparently thought he killed the man 

“I didn’t kill anyone, my foster father is still kicking and breathing. And how the fuck did you know about that anyway?” Luke had known this asshole for less than ten minutes and he was already thinking of ways to strangle him.

Blondie put his hands over his heart “Aw, my sweet summer child. You clearly have never been on the inside before so let me be the one to tell you. Nothing in this place stays a secret for long, no matter how hard you try. And many of us have our ways of getting information if we really want it.”

Simone butts in with a grin, staring daggers into the man guarding the door. “By ways he means sucking off the male staff.” 

“Might even eat a few of chicks out if he’s desperate.” Cecil laughs.

Luke looks back to the guard and hums in amusement, an interesting development indeed. “What about you Robb, why are you locked in here?” 

Blondie smirks as he readjusts his legs “Four counts of underage prostitution and assault with a deadly weapon.” He winks.

Luke snorts, as if the first wasn’t obvious enough. Luke couldn’t judge him though; he’s dabbled in activities that could be deemed as sex work on numerous occasions. “Suits you,” He replies, moving around to make himself more comfortable in his crappy chair.

Blondie laughs, giving Luke the finger.

“I hotwired a Mercedes. Ended up crashing it on the highway through” Cecil announces as he hops over to the couch and puts his feet up.

“Is that why your arm’s all fucked up?” Luke asked, pointing to the full cast and sling the boy was sporting. He looked like the type to steal a car and almost die in it later on. 

“No, I got it playing football.” 

“You’re not funny.” Simone says.

“How about you?” Luke questioned. Simone was the only one of the three that seemed to possess any sort of intelligence. Luke was curious as to what he did to get locked in here with these low IQ having fuckers.

“Armed robbery. The couple whose house I broke into ended up being a real pair of chatterboxes. They got on my nerves so bad I threatened to shoot them, but I dropped the gun on the floor and accidentally shot myself in the foot.” He kicked off his shoe and presented the bandaged appendage. 

Ok, maybe not so smart.                                          

Two weeks have gone by since Luke arrived at Hellhot.

Things weren’t that bad. Room checks and pats downs were done at the end of every day but that was to be expected, the amount of shit these guys somehow got in here was ridiculous. Not to mention how certain officers and nurses were without a doubt high on the amount of control they had over inmates, using any lame excuse they could come up with to punish them. 

Three days ago a guy was put on toilet scrubbing duty because he was sneaking dinner rolls in his pocket to eat later as a midnight snack. Luke couldn’t wrap his head around how wanting to eat at night was a punishable offense, but he kept his mouth shut. He had no intention of scrubbing shitty toilets with the guy.

None of that mattered to Luke, he wasn’t hiding anything and if he was, he wasn’t stupid enough to put it under the mattress or in his pocket. What he had a tough time accepting was the total lack of privacy. Showering under the watchful eye of guards felt like he was being violated.

Being watched as you lifted your leg to wash your dick and balls was a humiliating affair to say the least.

While not much went on in the medical wing, the general populace was a drastically different story. In the past five days close to twenty inmates from the main building had been rushed down in need of treatment for life threatening injuries. Luke had been able to catch small glimpses of sliced up skin and limbs twisted in grotesque ways before he and the others were ordered back to their cells by officers.

Yesterday, a guy named Tobin was brought down for a shank to the chest. He died 30 minutes later.

What really fucked Luke up was how everyone treated his death as just another Sunday. 

Hanging with his roommates had been a good way to pass time. Simone was a damn good artist and drew Luke anything he asked for in exchange for his eggs at breakfast and an extra piece of his brisket at dinner. 

Everywhere Luke turned Cecil was behind him, constantly pestering Luke to allow him to give him a few tiny stick and pokes on his hands to ‘compliment his finger tattoos’ Luke declined every time. Cecil could do whatever he wanted on his own skin, but Luke refused to be used like a crash test dummy.

Blondie gets all sorts of shit from the outside. He got his hands on several bottles of nail polish and various eyeshadow palettes. Luke asked Blondie who was helping him sneak all of it but only got a smirk in response When Luke walked into their room the next day after dish duty and saw Blondie bent over his bed, pants around his ankles with one of the male nurses behind him, he stopped asking questions.

It was the middle of the afternoon and Simone was helping Luke air dry his freshly painted nails when nurse Tywin stepped in.

“Luke Rivers.”

Luke turned around “Yea?”

The man placed some clothes and a pair of black dress shoes on Luke's bed. “Get dressed, you have a meeting in fifteen.” He left before Luke could ask what he meant.

Luke didn’t have any meetings scheduled for today, he hadn’t had a meeting period since he arrived here. From what little he knew; his old caseworker was sick which left him ass out with no defense. And the cherry on top was that no one wanted to aid in his defense, at least that’s what Jayne said.

Who was this alleged meeting with?

“You never told us you had a meeting today.” Cecil accused, now sitting on the floor painting Blondies toes magenta. Blondie's feet were disgusting, covered with bunions. Cecil was a stronger man than Luke could ever hope to be.

“I didn’t know I had one.” He said as Simone helped him into a pair of tight khakis. He buttoned up the white long sleeve and tried to fix his hair as Simone slipped his socks and shoes on.

“What do you mean you didn’t know? The whole point of a meeting is for-” 

“Shut the fuck up, shit for brains. Do you really think Luke would be having a full on freak out for a meeting he knew he had?” Simone argued. He finished tying Luke’s laces and gave him a thumbs up, ignoring Cecil’s whines at being called stupid.

Five minutes later the nurse stepped back in and waved for Luke to follow. As Luke left he could hear the guys shouting. “GO LUKE!” in harmony. Tywin paused and told them to shut the fuck up.

Luke knew better than to annoy hot-tempered Tywin with questions, so he remained silent until he was passed off to a female officer who led him out of the medical wing all the way to the main building. 

When Luke walked into the meeting room he came face to face with someone he hadn’t heard from in forever. “We meet again Mr. Rivers.” she said with her usual lack of facial expression. 

“Jayne.” He acknowledged. She raised an eyebrow at the informal name. Luke shrugged; he didn’t care to use formalities at the moment.

“How has life at Hell hot been treating you?” She asked.

“Fine. Anyway, what are you doing here?” Luke wasn’t in the mood for chit chat; he wanted answers. Jayne had no reason to talk with him, she wasn’t his case worker, and she clearly had no intention to take his case. 

She tisked “Still not one for nonsense, I like it. If you must know, I'm here to relay some information to you.” Her eyes glanced down to the numerous neatly organized papers splayed over the table. 

No shit, why else would you be here? To stomp on me with your freakishly long legs? Wait, that doesn't sound too bad…

“Information regarding?” He was getting fed up with these vague answers.

“Regarding your case. Sydney Winston is close to making a full recovery and his legal team have field new charges against you ranging from theft, assault, assault with a deadly weapon, battery, attempted murder-” Jayne is cut off.

Luke nearly chokes on his own spit when she repeats the charges against him “Murder? He’s accusing me of MURDER?” Luke is livid, if he could walk on his own, he would’ve been pacing around in circles.

Jayne picks up one of the papers and looks at it “ Attempted murder, his team is saying that you were the initial aggressor, and that Mr. Winston was only trying to defend himself. He then states after he pinned you to the floor he got up and attempted to walk away, but you were so enraged you picked up the baseball bat and proceeded to try and kill him.” 

Luke is shocked into silence. They’re going to try to paint him out as a murderer and he can’t do anything about it. After all, it's only Luke’s word over Sydney’s and from everything Luke has gathered from old episodes of Law and order, ‘he said, she said’ cases never go well for the actual victim.

“So, that’s it? I don’t even have a lawyer, how…” Luke’s bottom lip trembles as his eyes fill with water.

Jayne scoots closer to him, folding her hands together. “No, they’re not going to ruin your life.” She said confidently.

“They’re trying to lock me up for attempted murder . I’ll go to prison for life I-.”

Jayne interrupts him “They’re not going to ruin your life because I called in a favor from an old friend who owes me. They have happily agreed to take on your case.” 

Luke’s mouth drops, he continuously opens and reopens it, but no words make it out.

“Now that you’ve had your pathetic little pity party, let's discuss details until my friend can get here and introduce themselves.”

Luke sits silently trying to process what he’s just been told.

“Tell me Mr. Rivers, have you ever heard the name Alicent, pop up around here?” Jayne’s normally stone-cold face has melted, morphing into a sinister smirk.

Holy shit.

Chapter Text

Luke doesn't answer, still trying to digest Jayne’s words.  

A feeling akin to Hope fills his chest. During his time locked up he’d been learning to accept his future prison sentence, trying his best to adjust to prison life rather than remain optimistic. He knew the chances of being found innocent were slim, why hold out hope?

And just when he began to accept his fate, Jayne fucking Snow manages to flip his entire world upside down like it was nothing.

It sounded too good to be true. He had to have heard her wrong.

“From your lack of an answer I’m going to go out on a limb and assume you haven’t heard of her before. Allow me to explain.” Jayne says, grin turning into a sinister smirk. She knew he was in a state of shock and found it entertaining, like a cat toying with the mashed-up body of a dead mouse.

This woman was a menace.

“Alicent Tully or ‘just Alicent’ as she usually tells her clients, is one of the most infamous child welfare attorneys in Westeros. I won’t bore you with her life story, she can do all that on her own. What I will tell you is that out of the sixty cases she’s handled in her career, she has only walked away with three losses.” She held up and wiggled three freshly manicured fingers.

Luke was stunned into silence, something that seemed to happen often to him as of late. His mind was all over the place, if he was a cartoon character this would be the moment where the camera pans up to show his brain has been replaced with black scribbled lines. 

If what he’s being told is true, then it's obvious that Alicent isn’t not a normal everyday caseworker but someone in the big leagues. 

Somebody as infamous and sought after as her should have rich assholes all over the country throwing wads of cash at them to bail out their piece of shit kids nonstop. Why would she waste her time on someone as insignificant as him? 

Luke has no family to pay her nor is his case going to be anything worth news coverage. So, excuse him if he's having a tough time trying to figure out what she had to gain by helping him.

“Why is she doing this?” He asks, hectically bouncing his leg up and down in an attempt to soothe his nerves. He’s biting his lip so hard he’s sure that if he keeps applying pressure it’ll split all over again. 

Jayne’s lips fall into a flat line “You’ll have to ask her yourself.” 

Luke has to pinch his arm to stop himself from calling her out on how much of a bullshit non-answer that was. 

“Until Ms. Tully gets here, I’ll take this as an opportunity to fill you in on everything that has been happening behind the scenes since your altercation with Mr. Winston.” She opens a large brown envelope. “This report states that your main caretakers during your stay at Sandstone health were Doctor Martell and nurse Varn, is that information, correct?”

He gives a simple nod. “Correct.”

“Did either of them ever relay to you in full detail the events of what happened the night you were rushed into the Sandstone health emergency room?” She asked, never taking her eyes off the document in hand.

The mention of his former caretakers threw Luke for a loop, he had trouble understanding what they had to do with anything. “Doctor Martell said that I was unconscious when I arrived, he did a bunch of tests to see if my brain was scrambled, but that’s about it.” The printed photo of the CT scan of his brain comes back to mind. Luke can almost see the blotchy black squiggles and white spot which indicated his injury.

“Then I suppose it was never mentioned that you were constantly going in and out of consciousness until Doctor Martell decided it would be best to put you into a medically induced sleep?” 

Luke almost choked on his own spit. “What?”

“I’ll take that as a no.”

“What do you mean, going in and out of consciousness? Doctor Martell said-”

Jayne lets out an amused hum as she flips the papers over and begins reading the rest of the report on the back. “That you never woke up because a paramedic by the name of Arryn Stone gave you a sedative originally meant to calm you, but for some apparent, unknown reason sent you into a coma-like state instead, correct?” 

Luke sucked in a startled breath.

“Then afterwards rather than using the proper medication to wake you, Doctor Martell told you he decided to leave you in that state, Is this correct or not?” Jayne’s tone was that of someone who knew that everything they said was no less than fact. A cocky woman indeed.

He gulped and nodded at Jayne’s question, finding trouble getting himself to verbally respond. If Luke didn’t know any better, he would’ve sworn his voice box had been stolen from his throat without his knowing.

“According to the official hospital report, you were rushed in by paramedics with multiple police officers tagging behind, this of course caused a bit of a scene in the waiting room. Multiple witnesses including hospital staff, claim that you were crying and calling out for your mother. You kept repeating that you were sorry for failing her and apologizing for not being ‘strong enough’. Do you have any recollection of saying such things?” 

Calling out for his mom? The drugs Arryan doped him up on must have really fucked him up because there was no way in hell.

He hasn’t seen or heard from her since he was taken by child services over a decade ago.

Luke barely even remembers what she looked like, he often forgets that he has a birth mother in the first place. When floating through the system from one household to the next it was easy to forget that you weren’t just a pest that miraculously popped into existence.

Luke only thinks of her once in a blue moon. It was hard to believe that she would be the one he calls out to when beaten, bloody, and in need of help. 

As if that selfish bitch would give a fuck in the first place. 

When it came to his mother Luke learned quickly that he would always be last on her list of importance. Everyone and everything came before him, no exceptions. If her boyfriend wanted something superficial, he got it on the spot no matter what. When Luke was missing something, he needed, he had to wait until she was in a good mood.

Luke remembers being sent to school in sneakers that were literally falling off the fucking bone, holding on for dear life by the seams. Did she buy him a new pair? Of course not. Why? Because her boyfriend wanted to go to the casino and act like a big shot with her paycheck, just to lose every penny.

She probably forgot she had a kid.

“I don’t recall any of that. All I remember is freaking out when that medic put a mask over my face, but after that ....” He trails off, recalling the dream he had after he had been sedated. There had been a voice he never heard before; it was soft but firm at the same time. Smooth like honey but also held an authoritative tone. 

“You must take no part in any fighting. Swear it to me now, under the eyes of the Seven”

All of a sudden, his chest feels tight, his heart is pumping so fast he’s certain it’s about to run out of chest. Breathing heavily, a wave of panic hits him. He can hear sounds in the background but they’re hard to distinguish due to the blood pounding in his ears. 

Someone's hands are grasping onto his. Their thumbs tenderly stroked his knuckles. His hands are shaking, his feet following in their lead, his entire body feels as though it's buzzing.

Recalling that voice sends a wave of nausea through him, he has to swallow down the bile rising in the back of her throat.

“Breathe, Mr. Rivers” 

He opens his eyes, not having been aware he closed them in the first place. Jayne’s eyes are jumping all over his face, looking at Luke as if he was going to fall out at any moment. She’s telling him to breathe in and out, doing the exercise herself as if she was demonstrating.

He follows her lead.

It takes a while, but he eventually calms. His heart slows down and his hands no longer shake. The nausea pooling in his gut dissipates leaving his stomach feeling full, like he’s eaten a large meal.

A cup of water is sat in front of him by the guard who looks equally as panicked as Jayne does. “Do you need to go back to medical Mr. rivers?” She asks, her voice was worried and slightly panicked, the complete opposite of the cold harshness he was so accustomed to from her.

“No, I’m fine, I just got lost in my head is all.” He gently massaged his forehead trying to ease the oncoming headache he knew would hit him sooner or later.

Jayne purses her lips, clearly not buying what he was trying to sell. She picked up the cup and handed it to him, telling him to drink. She straightened herself up, eyebrows raised, asking without words if he was ok to continue.

Luke takes a deep breath. “Like I said before, I don’t have any memory of anything between being knocked out by the paramedic and waking up handcuffed.”

“Understood, let's put a pin in that topic for right now.” 

She changes topics, choosing to fill Luke in on all the antics of Sydney's legal team in the past month. Luke was honestly surprised to hear Sydney even had a legal team taking into account that he was dead broke. How did he afford these crooked assholes in the first place? 

Jayne takes the time to educate him on how the whole process of court worked.

When the time comes Luke and Sydney will be called to the courthouse to present themselves to the judge. Once they arrive, the bench clerk will announce the charges being pressed against him and Luke will be asked by the judge to state his plea. 

Depending on how lenient the judge is, they will either allow Luke to leave with a court mandated foster family or continue to stay in juvenile until the actual trial starts. Considering the number of charges being stacked up against him, in addition to how serious they are, it could take up to an entire year for the trial to officially start. 

When Luke asks why it takes so long, she tells him it’s mostly because Sydney's Lawyers will be taking their time gathering dirt on Luke. They’ll find and interview anyone who claims to know him such as past foster parents, old friends, and ex partners. 

The slimy fucks might even go as far to find and ask Luke’s one night stands their thoughts and opinions on him.

Hello sir, we’re investigating a criminal case and it’s come to our attention that in 2019 you let a guy by the name of Luke Rivers suck you off in a McDonalds restroom. Do you mind telling us your honest opinion on what kind of person he seemed to be at the time?

While Jayne is busy informing Luke on the dangers of lying on the stand, the meeting room door clicks open, revealing a woman with a handful of papers tucked against her chest.

She’s average height, maybe an inch shorter than him. Her long brown hair cascades down to her hips in flowy beach waves and her fringed bangs are parted in the middle. She has a heart shaped face which is complimented by a deep dimple in her left cheek 

Her soft doe-like eyes reminded Luke of a Disney princess. 

She was beautiful to say the least.

Jayne stands up and hurries over to the woman, pulling her into a bone crushing hug. If Luke didn’t know any better he’d say Jayne was trying to strangle the poor lady. Jayne was without a doubt over six feet in heels. Seeing the two of them side by side made for a funny comparison, Jayne literally dwarfed the other woman.

“Jayne my love, words will never express how much I missed you.” She says, one hand held over her heart while the other is wrapped around Jayne’s waist with a tight grip. 

The woman is dressed in all blue. A pair of long dress pants hug her thighs but are flowy once they reach past her knees, her blue blouse is poofy at the shoulder but has a small cut out at the cleavage. Her heeled pumps are also blue with a strap around her ankles that look to be made of pearls. 

She looks like money.

“Same to you Ally.” Jayne kisses her forehead. She steps out of Alicent’s way and turns, gesturing to Luke. “Alicent, I'd like you to meet your new client, Luke Rivers.”

As soon as Alicent lays her eyes on him she almost drops everything she had in her hand. Her once gleeful face at seeing her old friend has turned sorrowful. Her lips quiver and she rapidly blinks as if there was something stuck in her eyes. “Lucerys?”. 

Who the fuck is Lucerys?

Her voice is trembling, it sounds watery and uneven, Luke is certain she’s about to erupt into tears at any given moment. When he doesn't answer she walks towards him on shaking legs, slowly, as though she was getting close to a frightened deer, careful not to make any sudden loud noises. “Lucerys, is it truly you?” She whispers, Tears are falling down her face, smudging her eyeshadow just a smidge. She's murmuring something under her breath but it’s hard to decipher.

At this point Luke doesn’t know what the hell is happening. He had a million questions but couldn't find it in himself to ask one of them, too stunned to do anything besides stare at the woman.

Alicent looks at him as if she’s seen a ghost. It's creeping him out.

“Excuse me, but I think you have the wrong person.” Luke says nervously. He’s never seen this woman a day in his life, he didn’t know of her existence until Jayne told him. She must be confusing him for someone else.

Did he have a doppelganger? 

Her brows shoot up in surprise and her head tilts a little to the side. He would laugh at the way she looks like a puzzled cartoon dog if the situation wasn’t so tense.

“My name is Luke, I don’t know who Lucerys is, but I’m not him.” 

The combined look of heartbreak and shock on her face makes Luke feel like he just kicked a puppy in the stomach. She seems to sober up at his words, her face relaxes, taking on a neutral expression. She stutters, “I’m terribly sorry, I don’t know what came over me just then.” 

She looks nervous now, her bottom lip is turning red from how hard she’s biting it and she’s squeezing her hand so tight that her fingers start to pale from loss of blood circulation.

“We’ll be right back Mr. Rivers” Jayne, who Luke forgot was there to begin with, takes hold of Alicent’s hands proceeding to direct her out of the room. 

Shushed murmurs of their conversation float into the room, he can’t make out what they’re saying in full, but he does catch bits and pieces here and there. What he can make out is the same name being mentioned.

Lucerys.

The door opens and Alicent enters alone. She walks to the table and sits down, placing her numerous files off to the side. 

“Hello Luke, first off, I want to tell you I’m deeply sorry for my actions. I know it must have been quite confusing for you.” Her words are clear cut and precise, her demeanor is calm and collected but her eyes are sorrowful. There's a sadness in them that can’t be covered up. 

“That's ok. We all do weird shit from time to time.” He says.

Alicent smiles sadly. “I should explain my actions in full. My best friend had a son named Lucerys, he was her pride and joy, one of the reasons she got out of bed in the morning.” Her voice is quivering again.

“H-he died tragically. She was never the same after. We were at odds with each other when it happened so I couldn’t comfort her like I should have. I won’t ever forgive myself for it.” She sniffles as she wipes her eyes.

She looks at Luke kindly. “You look so much like him, identical, just a wee bit older.” She chuckles, her eyes fill with light when she focuses on him, as if she was lost in the past, reminiscing about the days before the boy had died.

“Is your friend better now?” He asks, it may not have been the right thing to say but at least it's something. Luke had never been one for comforting others, still, he tried his absolute best when he found it necessary.

“She’s adjusting. Every day without Lucerys is a challenge for our entire family but we’re pushing through” Alicent assures.

Pity sets deep in his chest. Luke tries to imagine what it would be like to have lost Tessa, or any of his foster siblings from back then, they may not have actually been his real family, but they were the closest thing he’s ever had. Would he have reacted similarly after someone that looked so identical to any of them?

“At least you all have each other.” He says, attempting to lighten the glum mood filling the atmosphere. 

Luke doesn’t miss the pure delight in Alicent’s face. Her grin spread from ear to ear causing her dimple to pop out. “Yes, we all have each other.”

She takes a deep breath and smooths the winkles that have appeared in her shirt. “Allow me to properly introduce myself.” She does a small shimmy in her seat “My name is Alicent Tully, please call me Alicent, and I have been a child welfare attorney for the past ten years. I reside in King’s Landing but I do travel often for my work. I have three children and a small puppy named Nugget. Would you like to see him?” She asks shyly, already pulling her phone from out of her pocket.

He accepts.

Once she finds what she’s looking for she turns the phone to him. The picture is of a man holding a small dog who Luke assumes is Nugget.

Nugget’s adorable, a small Yorkshire Terrier with dark gray fur with honey brown highlights, wearing a blue collar, but what Luke is more focused on is the man holding the dog.

Luke guessed he was in his early 20’s, he was wearing a simple white t-shirt with a leather jacket, his eyes were blue which complemented his dirty blonde hair nicely. His most prominent features were his jaw and chin, his jaw was strong as shit if the way he was clenching it had anything to say, and his chin was long. His face had a few lines, but they suited him rather than aged him like a lot of people.

Leather jacket guy essentially had the face of a 1930’s factory worker.

Luke kind of wanted to sit on it.

He blushes deep red when he realizes he’d been staring at the picture for way longer than appropriate, and his focus obviously wasn’t on Nugget. He flicks his eyes away in embarrassment. 

Shit, is that her husband? Gods, I hope she didn’t notice me checking him out.

“He’s very cute…the dog I mean” He stutters. Gods, he’s never been so embarrassed.

Thankfully, Alicent doesn't seem to notice and if she does, she took pity on him and didn’t bring it up. Luke is praying for the former.

Alicent puts her phone down “You aren’t obligated to, but it would be nice if you could share a tiny bit about yourself. I want to know as much about you as possible.” 

“I don’t have much to say honestly.” He scratches his head. “I’m sure you know my name and age, other than that there’s nothing about me worth mentioning.”

Alicent's mouth slightly gapes at his statement, Luke swears he can see her eyes glistening briefly under the lights above them. She reaches to grab his hand, before she could touch him, he instantly pulls away not in the mood to be touched by the strange woman.

Alicent’s looks as though she had been stricken.

“It’s nothing against you.” He tries to remedy the situation. “I have a problem with touching that strikes at odd times.” He explains, hoping that she doesn't feel slighted. Luke has already made her upset once today; he’s going to do his best to avoid it happening again.

She waves her hands “No, no, please don't apologize to me for having boundaries, you have a right to not want to be touched and it is to be respected. Thank you for being honest with me about how you feel, honesty is important in this kind of relationship.” 

An awkward silence follows her statement, it feels like there’s an invisible clock ticking down the time until one of them speaks.

“Luke, you’re being accused of a very serious crime. I need you to be one hundred percent honest with me at all times. No lying, fibbing, or anything of the sort. If you lie to me then I can’t do my job, which is to help you to the best of my abilities. And if you lie on the stand that is a federal offense and you will face charges.”

“Tell me, what happened that day? From the beginning to the end.” Alicent’s face remains kind, she’s smiling, her hands lay flat on the table in Luke's direction in a silent offer of comfort if he wants it. 

“I met an old friend before school, she asked me to meet her at the Sandstone recreational center later in the evening so we could catch up.” He hesitated, not sure about how he wanted to go about telling the story. “She asked me to bring liquor with me and I agreed.” Luke didn’t look at Alicent, choosing to keep his head down as he recalled the events leading to the fight.

“Can you tell me this friend's name and how you two originally met?”

Luke rested his forehead against his hand, still not looking at the woman. “Her name is Tiffany, we met at her godmother’s house.”

“Who is her godmother?”

“My old foster mother, Tessa Tarth.”

Luke hears the sound of a pen hitting paper. 

“Please continue Luke.” Alicent encourages, he can’t find it in himself to look at her but the warmth and sincerity in her voice is enough to push him to keep talking. 

He gives her his side of the story from start to finish. It’s hard, having to explain to a stranger every intimate thought or thing he did that day, but it had to be done. He almost quit on the spot when he heard Alicent’s small gasp when he recalled Sydney calling him a cock sucking whore.

“Do you remember how you felt when you hit your foster father?” 

Luke takes the bat, swinging it across Sydney’s head, he collapses onto his back landing beside the now flipped over nightstand, arms now wrapped around his head trying to protect it. 

Luke takes another swing, holding the bat high then slams it down with as much brute force as he can muster, bashing the man's face in. When Sydney’s arms let go of his head Luke uses the tip of the bat to dig further into the eye he damaged earlier. Sydney was now crying out, begging Luke to stop.

How many times in Luke's life had he begged for the pain to stop. Got on his knees and pleaded with people to stop hurting him, that he would do anything, that he would be good. Did they listen? 

They continued to hurt him, take things from him that they had no right to take. They used him.

Used him as a release for their sexual frustration and pent up anger. Why should Luke spare anyone when no one ever afforded him the same kindness, including the man beneath him cowering in fear. 

“How does it feel?” He muttered, voice hoarse. “How does it feel to be helpless?”

“Angry,” he said, foot tapping the hard concrete below him.

Angry was an understatement, he was furious, enraged. At that moment Luke wanted nothing more than to see the fat bastard bleed. He wanted Sydney to hurt like he had been hurt. Wanted him to feel all his power and autonomy be stripped from him. Hearing the man under him beg for Luke to stop had felt like the sweetest reward at the time.

Now, all he felt was disgust. 

The door opens revealing another officer. “Hours up, back to the ward.”

“I booked the appointment for an hour and a half; we still have half an hour left.” Alicent growls, 

Luke’s eyes go wide in surprise, hearing this woman who was essentially the human version of Bambi’s mother be so aggressive was unexpected and oddly satisfying. 

The officer sighs and shrugs his shoulder, the universal sign for ‘I don’t give a shit’

Alicent stood up “Would be so kind as to tell me why you’re taking my client back before our time is up? Like I previously stated, we still have half an hour left.” Her voice was sweet but hidden underneath it was a condescending kick. 

“Look ma’am, my job is to collect the inmates and bring them where they need to be, if you have a problem you need to take it up with the warden.” He waits for Luke at the door.

Before he leaves Alicent comes up to him.

“It has been an absolute pleasure meeting you Luke, we’ll see each other very soon.” She gives him a toothy grin.

Then he’s on his way. 

Luke may be off his rocker for choosing to have Alicent as his caseworker after her earlier display, it wasn’t a good first impression in any meaning of the word that's for damn sure. 

However, he has a gut feeling he won’t regret sticking with her.

Even if it does end with a guilty verdict. 

After his meeting Luke still wasn’t entirely convinced the trial would end in his favor, but the confirmation that someone actually believes he isn’t the monster he’s being made out to be and is actively trying to help him has lifted his spirits.

As soon as Luke steps into his room he’s ambushed by Blondie “How did everything go? Come on, tell us.” 

He pulls Luke to his bed and plops down. Cecil and Simone look just as eager to hear what he has to say. They’re both practically buzzing with barely contained excitement, hopping up and down on their butts like toddlers on Christmas day.

Luke let out a deep breath that he had unknowingly been holding, finally relaxed enough to let his guard down. “Not gonna lie, it went in a completely different direction than I imagined it would.” 

That was the understatement of the century. 

“Different direction, as in you're getting out soon?” Cecil asked wide eyed. He now had the tips of his fingers in his mouth biting at his nails.

“I'm not going anywhere anytime soon. At least for now. I hadn’t told any of you this but before today I didn’t have a caseworker. This meeting was originally with Jayne snow, do any of you know her?”

“Jayne snow? Of course, we do. Her and Marleya are like the big women on campus.” 

“Wait, you said you didn’t have a caseworker till just now?” Simone asked, puzzled.

“It's a long story but yea, not until today.” Luke says, slipping his feet back into his sandals. He had only worn them for an hour and walked in them for way less than that but he’s positive those dress shoes gave him blisters. 

“Damn that’s fucked up. There are people here who have done way worse than you, and even they have someone on their team.” Blondie says in surprise.

“Are you gonna tell us who your new caseworker is?” 

Luke leans back until his back is touching the cool brick wall “Alicent Tully, does that sound familiar to any of you?” Luke asks, looking around the room. Jayne says Alicent is well known, but he needs to do his own investigating to be sure the tall woman wasn’t blowing smoke up his ass to see how gullible he was.

Shock painted everyone’s faces 

“No. Fucking. Way.” Cecil said, annunciating each word. 

“Alicent Tully?” Blondie questioned as if he hadn't heard Luke the first time. His eyes were full of wonder. His hands were gripping Luke’s thigh, squeezing it hard enough to leave a bruise. He was leaning in uncomfortably close to Luke’s face.

“Alicent is one of the best in the country, she never loses a case.” Simone states.

Cecil butts in “Every kid in the system wants her to help them. I’ve seen motherfuckers write literal letters to her, begging for help.”

“My son has been blessed by the gods.” Blondie fake cries into his elbow. Luke bets his obnoxiously loud sobs can be heard from all the way from the first floor. Tywin is probably on his way to drag Blondie out and make him scrub the floors as punishment.

Luke surely would.

Everyone starts asking Luke about Alicent and how he managed to get her to be his caseworker, all talking over each other at the top of their lungs. 

Gods, I have a headache 

After Lucerys left Alicent had to deal with a confused, pissed off Jayne. Jayne had continuously questioned her on her odd actions and extreme unprofessionalism. The worst part about it was that Alicent had no proper answer for her. 

She couldn't tell Jayne that the reason she acted like a complete loon was because she had finally found the boy she’s been searching for, for years only for him to not recognize her from a can of paint.

Looking into those brown eyes and not a hint of recognition appearing was enough to break Alicent’s heart into two. She didn’t know how to react, what to do, or what to say. Honestly, she was proud of herself for not falling to her knees and thanking the God’s for Lucerys return right then and there.

Oh, Lucerys. What have these people done to you?

Much like Rhaenyra, Alicent always imagined what it would be like when Lucerys finally returned to them, how they would rejoice at their family being whole once again. They would be complete, never letting go of one another nor allowing anything to come in between them, not again.

Alicent had to hold back tears.

Lucerys was in terrible shape, the big doughy brown eyes she remembers being so filled with life have been stripped of their glimmer. Hopelessness and anxiety were all that she could spot in those dark brown orbs.

Her heart couldn’t take seeing that once flushed chubby face, pale and sunken in. Lucerys looked tired and worn down, Alicent could tell from his bloodshot eyes and dark circles that the poor thing hadn’t had a wink of sleep in a long time.

His nose was taped up under gauze and his leg was in horrible shape, if a sliver of what she read in the report Jayne gave to her was anywhere close to the truth, then his injuries had been significantly worse mere weeks ago. 

Alicent would bring Lucerys home, no matter what she had to do.

She had to call Rhaenyra. 

Chapter Text

“Let me make sure I heard you right. You’re saying that Alicent Tully , one of the country's best, most well-known attorney’s, wants to help you out of all people just because Jayne asked?” Blondie's hands were on his hips, a single eyebrow was raised, looking at Luke as if he was lying so badly his pants were going to spontaneously explode into flames. 

Luke has had enough, he’d been explaining himself for the past 20 minutes and these fuckers just kept repeating the same questions and expecting a different answer, didn’t they know that was the literal definition of insanity? 

“Yes, no matter how many times you ask, the answer is going to be yes .” 

“I’m just having trouble trying to wrap my head around the fact that you managed to bag Alicent Tully as your caseworker, is all. No need to be so defensive.” Blondie backs off, holding his hands up in surrender. 

“Gods, you’re ridiculous.” Luke quietly mutters, Blondie was jumping for joy in Luke’s honor a minute ago, now all of a sudden he was the main person doubting him. 

“Robb’s right. It’s hard to believe that out of all the people who write letters and share their sorry ass stories on the internet to get Alicent’s attention, that the lucky winner ends up being a guy who didn’t even know who she was until the day he met her.” Cecil chimes in.

Simone, being the only person to believe Luke right off the bat is naturally the first to defend him. “And what about it? Stranger things have happened.” His arms were crossed and the wrinkles in between his eyebrows were popping out. 

Cecil snort’s, “Like the time you shot yourself in the foot like a Mormon?”

“A Mormon?” Simone questions, repeating Cecil’s words slowly.

“Yea, or is the word ‘dumb ass’ more fit for your vocabulary?” The pink haired boy chuckles.

Luke decides to insert himself into this absolute disaster of a conversation before it gets any worse, and knowing Cecil, it was bound to. “Are you trying to say moron ?” 

Cecil wasn’t the smartest person on earth, no doubt about it. But Luke hoped he wasn’t actually dumb enough to confuse the two words. If he was, there was definitely no hope for the boy after he got out of Hellhot.

Cecil turns around to hide the obvious embarrassed flush spreading from his forehead down to his chest. Luke could almost hear the sweat drip down his face from nervousness. “Fuck you guys, you know what I meant…” 

Oh no.

Simone starts laughing, cackling and snorting so hard Luke was starting to believe the boy was half pig. He had to be, with a laugh like that. 

“Don’t be so embarrassed Cece, at least you know what the word ‘vocabulary' means.” Blondie tries to soothe Cecil's Embarrassment while attempting to hold back his own laugh.

Cecil’s face got even redder, and he began stuttering “When d-did this become about me? We’re supposed to be digging info about Alicent out of Luke, remember?” Cecil, not so slyly, tries to change the topic of conversation. 

“I’ve already told you guys everything, what more is there to know?” 

“Was she a bitch?” Blondie asked.

“What? No, she was nice, kind of awkward but nice overall. She kept trying to touch me, which threw me off a bit. Other than that she was cool.” He says honestly, making sure to skip past the part of their meeting where she cried and almost had a mental breakdown after confusing him for a dead kid. Not even the FBI could get that information out of him, much less these weasels.

“Why was she trying to touch you?”

“She probably wants to fuck him.” Cecil wiggles his eyebrows like a creep. 

“Huh?” Luke needs to make sure he heard the boy right before he throws one of his crutches at his head. 

“Don’t be gross, Cecil.” Simone groans, uncomfortable with the new direction their conversion was headed.

Cecil sucks his teeth. “Come on, have none of you heard those stories about older women with a shit ton of power who have a thing for guys way younger than them? Maybe Alicent’s got a taste for fresh meat” 

“Stop being a pervert, she‘s old enough to be my mother.” Luke sneers. Cecil's words were grossing him out to the point of no return. Alicent was so..motherly. Luke had mommy issues, but they weren’t nearly that bad.

Blondie giggles, “C’mon Luke, don’t play the age card. Something tells me you’ve had a few rounds with dudes more than just a little older than you. Don’t pretend like you haven’t.” He wiggled his finger in Luke’s face, giving him a knowing look.

Though he would never admit it to any of these fools, Blondie was right. Luke has had his fair share of partners who were way older than he should’ve been comfortable with, mostly thanks to Owen.

Before Luke met Owen his list of previous partners was pretty long for someone his age, after they got together Luke’s number of intimate partners skyrocketed. It came to the point where he lost count of the total number of people he shared a bed with, much less how old most of them were.

Owen had a thing for watching Luke screw other guys. Disturbed wasn’t a strong enough word to describe how Luke felt when Owen first suggested the idea to him.

Luke wasn’t a prude in any sense of the word, he’s fucked guys in a multitude of places, public bathrooms, cars, back alleys, and some other spots you’d have to put a gun to his head to make him confess. There were even a few times he did it in front of others, mostly strangers. It didn’t get him off like he thought it would, but he didn’t regret it. You live and you learn.

However, the thought of fucking someone who wasn’t his boyfriend while he watched was a new level of freaky Luke was unsure he wanted to participate in.

Sadly for him, Owen was a smooth talker, he had Luke wrapped around his little finger and knew how to get what he wanted out of the young man, no matter what it was. Playing on Luke’s desire to be loved played a big part in convincing him to agree to his desires, it also helped that Luke was either dead drunk or high as a kite when the man asked.

The first few times were with some of Owen's friends, men Luke had met and conversed with once or twice simply to be nice. It started off tame, Luke would suck one of them off while Owen fucked him from behind. 

Then as time went on things got more complicated, instead of participating physically Owen would sit back and watch while two of his friends took Luke roughly, spitting vile insults at him, calling him a slut and a whore. Luke had an emotional break down one night after a guy named Travis fucked his throat so hard he was certain he was going to choke to death.

Luke couldn’t talk for three days straight after that. 

Owen held him and made sure he had cold water and lozenges.

Eventually Luke sleeping with others for Owen's pleasure, evolved into sleeping with others to help run Owen's business.

Luke remembers when Owen asked him to ‘help' pay off some of his gambling debt, which he admittedly had no clue what that entailed at the time. Fast forward a week later, Owen took him to a sketchy motel in the slums off the coast of Tarth, he sat in a chair across from the bed and told Luke to get undressed.

Luke was confused, but he was also desperate to make his boyfriend happy so he wouldn't be discarded. Luke did as he was instructed without having to be told twice. When two older men walked in and started to unzip their pants, Luke realized his mistake.

By then it was too late.

The worst part about the whole ordeal wasn’t how the men used him like a human flesh light or threw money at his face when they were finished, it was how Owen picked him up with a softness like no other, led him to the bathtub and gently cleaned the blood, sweat and cum from his body while whispering praises and apologizing as if he wasn’t the one who set everything up to begin with.

“I know it hurts baby, I’m so sorry.” 

“You did so good, my good boy.”

Luke had never felt so dirty.

Blondie reaches out to touch his thigh. “Don’t be so uptight, I'm just fooling around with you.” 

Luke pushed the boy's hand away in anger. “Get your fucking hands off me.” The memories of various men on top of him, inside him, made him itch like hell. He felt like bugs had burrowed their way under his skin and were worming around inside of him. Being touched by anyone at the moment was enough to make Luke vomit what little food he had in his stomach back up.

He needed a shower.

Blondie’s face twisted up, eyebrows low and furrowed together, lips curled inwards. He's about to say something when Nurse Tywin barges in, clipboard in hand.

“Luke and Robb, come with me. Y'all are cleaning the kitchen today.” He points two fingers at Simone and Cecil. “Both of you are on laundry duty, I’ll come back for you after the boys return from community service.” 

Cecil whines, clearly about to throw a tantrum. “Why do we have to wait for them to get back? Their clothes are always extra rank after they come back from outside.”

Tywin ignores the boy's cries.

Luke swallows the urge to throw a tantrum alongside Cecil. Of course, Tywin would pick the worst time possible to put Luke and Blondie alone together in a closed off room with various sharp objects.

Accepting his fate Luke gets ready to leave, but before he could fully stand up on his crutches, Blondie pushes past him, knocking him back down onto the bed, clearly upset by Luke’s previous outburst. 

“The fuck is your problem?” Luke growled.

Blondie whips around, leering over Luke with tight fists. “I should be asking you that.” 

Tywin hits his open palm against the wall to get the boy's attention, too tired and agitated to break up a fight. “Hey, knock it off before I send both of you to solitary.” He interjects, clearly not in the mood for either of their pissy attitudes.

Simone, like the peace maker he is, steps in before things spiral out of control. “There’s no need for that sir, right you two?” He’s looking at both of them with wide eyes, the message is clear cut. 

‘Get your shit together’.

Similar to Kindergarteners, they walk to their destination in a straight, single file line behind Tywin. The reason has something to do with showing the warden that they’re learning discipline and how to work together as a team.

Luke doesn't see how any of that matters since the man is never there in person. 

Thoughts of the warden take Luke back to his meeting with Alicent that ended abruptly. Did she go to speak with the warden like the officer advised? Luke may have never seen him in person, but he’s heard enough to know he didn’t take kindly to criticism. 

Entering the kitchen Luke’s sense of smell is assaulted by the scent of rotten eggs, he’s sure that the stench is burning his nose hairs clean off. Blondie has his shirt pulled up over his nose, making gagging sounds into the material, meanwhile nurse Tywin doesn't look the slightest bit bothered by the putrid smell. 

Poor guy has probably been dealing with this for years.

The kitchen is an absolute mess, it looks as though someone had a food fight and a puke fest all at once. Different foods ranging from what looked to be some sort of shredded meat, broccoli, and creamed corn were all over the countertops as well as the floor, pots and pans were carelessly thrown everywhere, and a mysterious brown liquid was dripping from under the counter creating a small puddle.

Evidently the mob in the corner hadn’t been used since the last time Luke was here.

“What happened?” Blondie asked Tywin, his voice coming out muffled from under his shirt.

“The boys from the first ward are what happened.” The man answers dryly.

No wonder this place was turned upside down.

When Luke arrived at Hellhot it didn’t take long for him to learn about the notoriously deplorable inmates in the first ward. Prisoners who were too injured to be sent to the general populace but also too dangerous to live among others in the medical wing.

When something serious happened in the medical wing the chances were, it took place in the first ward.

Luke walked to the sink, careful to avoid the strange puddle and was greeted by a sink full of dirty dishwater. The water itself was a weird murky color, similar to when you mix a shit ton of paints together expecting to somehow create a new color, but all it came out as was a weird purplish brown.

Pieces of food were floating on top of the water like titanic survivors and the handle of a pot was sticking out of the water like the titanic itself. When Luke noticed the egg smell had gotten stronger, he bent over, hovering above the sink and stuck his nose out to get a good whiff. 

He gagged.

Guess I figured out where the smell is coming from.

Luke felt that if he put his hand in the water to unclog the sink, he would end up catching multiple infectious diseases. There had to be a strain of scarlet fever somewhere in that water, he felt it in his bones.

The industrial sized bottle of dish soap next to the faucet was basically empty, only about a teaspoon remained, not a bottle of bleach was in sight, and to make matters worse there were no gloves. How the hell was he supposed to clean anything? Lick the grime up with his tongue and risk dying of the black plague?

Luke was about to ask Tywin, but he turned to see the man had already left.

Asshole.   

Blondie wasn’t doing much better than Luke in terms of getting the kitchen cleaned. The other boy had a pair of tongs in his hand trying to fish something out of the second countertop sink without having to touch it himself.

Luke didn’t know what the boy was trying to achieve but he was struggling to do so, each time a bit of water splashed up and flew his way he dodged it like his life depended on it. Taking into account that literally anything could be in that water, it probably did.

After a while Luke had enough of the pathetic display and decided to search for cleaning supplies on his own. He had kitchen duty only once before and remembered the inmate he was cleaning with, telling him about a storage closet somewhere down the hall.

Once he found and entered the dimly lit room he spotted a box of gloves and grabbed them; those were crucial if he planned on touching anything in that health hazard of a kitchen. 

Before continuing his search, a small squeak grabs Luke’s attention, he looks around trying to find the source when his eye’s land on a pair of decently sized rats huddled together on the shelf blocking his access to the dish soap and spray bottles.

“Fuck this.” he whispers to himself, exiting the room and leaving the rodents to their business. His job was to clean, not exterminate pests

When Luke came back Blondie was still struggling with the tongs. He sighed, choosing to help his roommate. “What are you trying to do exactly?” 

He was met with radio silence, not counting the soft moans Blondie let escape every time a splash of water came his way. 

He asked again. 

Blondie sucked his teeth, flipping his bangs out of his face. "What does it look like I'm doing, Lukey pooh?” He tried to sound intimidating but squeaked in fear when dishwater landed on his toes.

“It looks like you’re auditioning for the title of ‘most gay’ in the Guinness World Records.”

Blondie stops fishing and stares at Luke for what feels like eons, he's sure the boy is going to insult him back. However, he's pleasantly surprised when he erupts into an uncontrollable laughter instead. Blondie’s laugh is so horrendous that Luke has no choice but to join in. The guy sounded like a goddamn hyena.

Why do all my roommates sound like they’re half animal hybrids? First Simone now Blondie.

“Ok, you got me there I must admit.” The tongs Blondie was previously holding have been dropped on the floor, the part of the utensil that was in the sink was now covered in something yellow. 

What was in that water?

“I'm sorry for yelling at you.” Luke randomly blurts out, not sure how to cut the tension between them.

And he truly is sorry, properly communicating how he felt to others without being a grade A asshole was hard for him. Sometimes Luke wondered why people wanted to hang out with him at all, he wasn’t a joy to be around. Especially when he got in his moods.

“Luke, we’ve been trapped together long enough for me to know that touching you can be a hit or miss, one minute you’re cool with it and the next you aren’t. I don’t hold that against you, all I ask is that you tell me how you feel instead of being a bitch.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he replies.

Blondie walks over to him, fluttering his lashes dramatically, fiending innocence. “Wanna clean this mess up together?” 

“Sure, why not.”

After battling a pair of rats that Luke is positive were genetically enhanced, he and Blondie were able to clean the kitchen to the best of their abilities.

Luke lost count of how roaches they had to stomp during the process.

After they finish cleaning Tywin comes back to put his stamp of approval of their work, he walks up and down the kitchen from the sink to the stoves and everything in between, slowly checking off the boxes on his clipboard.

When he lazily tells them their work was ‘acceptable’ Luke had to keep a tight grip on Blondie’s hand to stop him from jumping the nurse in anger. The pair transformed the kitchen from a cesspool to a place that could pass a health inspection with at least a c plus, their work was more than acceptable .

Luke chalked it up to Tywin being physically incapable of saying anything that wasn’t mean or sarcastic. Being an asshole is likely what drove his life force, he would probably die on the spot if he was nice to anyone.

After, Tywin ushered them to their first group therapy session of the week. Group therapy took place twice a week and was mandatory, the only way you could get out of it was if you were on your deathbed. And even then, nurse Phillipa may find a way to make sure you made it to the session.

Upon arriving, Luke looks through the small glass window of the meeting room door to see Simone and Cecil already in their seats. Simone was drawing on Cecil's hand as they waited for him and Blondie to show up.

Walking in, they’re greeted with a look of pure gratitude by both Simone and Cecil, Dr. Grayson must’ve refused to speak until everyone was present.

Once they sit the therapist lets out an appreciative hum. “Good, you’re all here I see. Very good.” He purrs, sounding like one of those cartoon villain’s that held a cat while looking over the city at all the destruction they caused beforehand. He looks Like one too, his unusually long curled up mustache was doing him no favors in the looks department.

Therapy sessions always took place in the second building, the building is reserved for therapy, caseworker meetings, visits from family, and educational classes for inmates who chose to resume their schooling while in lock up.

Luke doesn't think it’s a coincidence that it just so happened to be the smallest building in Hellhot.

The room was extremely small. Luke was shocked that even two people could fit in here let alone six, but somehow it worked. The walls were piss yellow, the floor was white tile, and the temperature was so low that goosebumps raised on Luke’s skin as soon as he stepped foot in the room. Taking into account that this was supposed to be a warm, inviting space, it sure didn't feel like it.

Various degrees were hung on the walls, all which were framed. Luke understood the need for doctors to put their hard-earned credentials on display, but for some reason he thought Dr. Grayson was corny as fuck for it.

“During our last session, I gave everyone a journal and advised you all to write whatever your heart desired, no matter what it was. Does anyone care to share what they have been putting in their journal?” 

Cecil was the first to speak up, telling Grayson about how he’s using his journal to practice sketching so he can improve his drawing skills and become a better tattoo artist. Luke admires Cecil’s love and dedication for tattooing, he may not be the best at the moment but it's obvious he’s trying to get better. 

Luke wished he had a passion. He’s dabbled in certain hobbies here and there, but nothing ever stuck, nothing spoke to him like tattooing spoke to Cecil or how art spoke to Simone.

“That is amazing Cecil. If you’re up for it, I would love if you brought your journal to our next session and showed me some of your work.”

Cecil smiles, excited at the idea of showing the man his skills.

Next is Simone, he tells the doctor that he’s using his journal as a way to practice new art mediums. Apparently, Simone has been really into watercolor lately, which has taken a bit of a toll on his book, making the pages thick and wrinkly from the mix of water and paint that’s absorbed into the paper.

“That’s very nice, I’m a lover of the arts myself and watercolor is a medium I find to be very beautiful. I hope that during our next session you’ll be comfortable enough to let me view your art.”

Simone nods in acknowledgement and goes back to drawing on Cecil.

Blondie, like the little shit he is, tells the man he threw his journal in a trash bin the day he received it. That’s a lie, Luke knows it because there have been many occasions where he’s woken up in the middle of the night to see blondie curled up in his bed using the moonlight shining through the barred window, to write.

He has no idea what the bleach blonde writes in his book, having said that it must be something personal because every time he’s caught the boy writing he hears wet siffling.

Luke knows the sound of holding back sobs when he hears it.

“Okay,” Dr, Grayson replies to Blondie's confession.

“Okay? The boy questions, he had clearly been expecting some sort of backlash.

“Robb, I gave out the journals for you boys to use as a method of expressing yourselves as well as your emotions safely without putting yourselves or others around you at risk. How you chose to use that journal is your business and no one else’s, not even mine. Be that as it may, I am glad you were honest with me about tossing it instead of lying to appease me.” 

Luke can almost see the gears in Blondie head turning, trying to come up with a bitchy response. He must’ve come up flat because he simply huffs and folds his arms in annoyance.

The last to talk is Luke. He’s written in his journal a handful of times, nothing personal though, choosing to use it as a record of how he spent his time and tallying the number of days he’s been locked up.

It was boring, but necessary, he didn’t want to end up losing track of time.

“Recording a timeline of events is very useful in a place like this, it helps you keep track of all your activities and whereabouts. Keep up the good work.”

He asks how everyone’s day was going and if anything exciting happened.

Simone details how he saw what looked to be a rare white fox outside their window before he went to the laundry room, Blondie recounted his and Luke’s fight against the rats, and since Cecil has the intellect of a block of cheese, tells Dr. Grayson about Luke’s meeting with Alicent instead of telling his own story.

Luke would kill to find out the exact number of times Cecil was dropped on his head as an infant. Perhaps somewhere in the hundred thousand range.

Simone pokes him in the hand with the tip of his pen causing Blondie to snicker.

Dr. Grayson turns his attention to Luke, he looked like a predator that just found their newest prey. Luke swore to himself that he was going to throw Cecil down the stairs when they left and give his best Oscar worthy performance to convince officers that it was an accident.

“That’s incredible Luke, this is a huge deal.”

He rolls his eyes; the man was trying way too hard to get Luke to open up. “It was a surprise,” he answered unenthusiastically. Praying the doctor would catch on to the hint that Luke wasn’t in the mood to dig deep into his emotions and leave him be.

“I’m sure it is. Going from not having a caseworker at all to having Alicent Tully as your attorney would shock anyone.” 

Luke shifts awkwardly in his chair, uncomfortable with the spotlight being on him for so long. He felt like a fly that’s been trapped on a sticky pad. No shit it was a shock, a part of him is still convinced everything that happened all those hours ago was a hallucination.

“How are you feeling? I know it must be a lot to handle”

“Mostly happy, a bit nervous too.”

Grayson nods in understanding. “Are you nervous about your future court appearance or are you nervous about having to put your trust into Alicent.” 

Truthfully? Both. 

The thought of being on trial and having no choice but to sit back and watch as jurors' question and judge his character made his stomach sink. Jayne told him that every questionable act he’s ever committed will be dug up and used against him, nothing will be off limits. Sydney's team was going to do their best to make Luke appear as a stain on society. 

What made matters worse is that he would have to come face to face with Sydney for the first time since beating the man half to death. How did he look? Did he have any permanent damage from his injuries? 

Luke wasn’t confident he could face the man after what he did.

As for Alicent? The woman seemed as though her intentions were truly genuine. For some weird reason he felt he should trust her, but there was a voice in the back of his head telling him we would be made a fool for doing so.

“The first one.”

Grayson’s lips turn down at the answer, he hums, putting all ten of his fingertips together. His chin was held up in deep thought. 

Luke hears a badly contained laugh and looks over to see Cecil silently laughing while pointing at the unzipped fly of Grayson’s pants and softly hitting Simone’s thigh. The other boy looked annoyed beyond belief, then again, anyone who had to deal with Cecil’s antics would be.

“You know Luke, there is no shame in wanting to depend on others nor is there any in wanting to trust the people around you.”

Before Luke could reply the man held up a finger. “The reason you act calm in a situation that a majority of people would be jumping off the walls about, is because you’re afraid that if you show your emotions to others then it means you’ve put your trust into them.”

“Being comfortable enough to be vulnerable with others is a tell-tale sign that you trust them.” Dr. Grayson sits up and leans in Luke’s direction, Luke peered down suddenly finding the tile floors intriguing.

“You have been hurt before, because of that you’ve developed a hesitancy, no, an inability to fully trust others. If you continue being a slave to your fear, you’re going to miss out on a plethora of great relationships and life changing experiences. Not everyone is your enemy” 

Luke didn't say anything for the rest of the session.

Dr. Grayson didn’t urge him to.

After therapy Luke remained silent, and much to his appreciation no one tried to get him to speak, not even Blondie. 

Dinner was an uneventful affair, they were served watery mashed potatoes that were filled with small clumps of undercooked potato, dry chicken breasts, and a dinner roll. Simone didn’t ask for his roll like he usually did but Luke dropped it on his plate anyway, earning him a wide grin from the chubby kid.

Luke tried to picture that round cheeky face breaking into someone's home and pulling a gun on an innocent unsuspecting couple. It was inconceivable, like a turtle chasing down and eating a lion alive, it just wasn’t possible. Had Simone not shown him the gun wound Luke would’ve called his bluff, alas he had the evidence to back it up.

A bullet wound in his damn foot.

It made him question the couple who got their house broken into, they had to have done something to earn what Simone did, there was no other possibility. Luke was positive there was a part of the story Simone was keeping from them.

Simone loved animals, maybe they were running a dog fighting pit and he broke in to rescue them...

“Guys, I know that none of you enjoy breasts, so if the thought of putting them in your mouth makes any of you too uncomfortable, I'll happily take them off your hands.” Cecil declares with a mocking tone. His spork was held high with a piece of chicken pierced on it and remnants of mashed potatoes were smeared in the corners of his mouth, he looked like a toddler learning to eat on their own.

But whereas a toddler learning to use utensils was adorable, Cecil was just nasty.

Blondie throws his bread roll at Cecil's head, right before it drops to the table Simone catches it and places it on his own tray.

“No throwing food!” Nurse Tywin shouts from the staircase, watching over all the inmates as they eat.

Cecil sticks out his potato covered tongue out at Blondie. “Yea, no throwing food.”

Simone takes a nice chunk out of his third bread roll of the evening. “Why did you toss your journal, Robb? It’s a good way to release some steam.”

“When I need to release steam, I visit officer Tanner in the second ward.”

“Gross, I don’t wanna hear about you and sausage fingers doing the deed.” Cecil scrunches his nose up in disgust like a child that caught their parents making out. Luke wonders how Cecil would react if he walked into the scene Luke did not long ago.

He’ll never get the image of Nurse Cal’s dick flopping around out of his head.

Blondie holds his spork up, pointing at Simone “Be upset with him, he’s the one that asked. And I'll have you know his sausage fingers make it much easier for him to-” Before he could finish his sentence, Luke reaches into his cup and flicks a bit of water in Blondie's direction to shut him up. He may be enjoying Cecil’s whines at hearing about the guy's sex life, but there are some things Luke would die happily without knowing.

“What did I just say?” Tywin yells.

Luke put his head down hiding from the nurse's gaze, ignoring Blondie's laughter.

Once dinner ended, everyone was ordered to their rooms for bed, this was met with resistance from certain inmates as per usual. Nothing serious, just moaning and groaning about how they weren’t tired yet. After a handful of guards and nurses alike threatened solitary the complaints ceased, and everyone went to their rooms as instructed.

Blondie was going through a box full of items trying to pick out which sleeping mask to wear for the night. He was showing Cecil each one and asking the tattooed boy to choose which he thought was cuter. 

This led to an argument when Cecil didn’t pick the one Blondie actually wanted to wear.

“You asked me to pick which one I liked, that’s the one I like” Cecil’s jaw was clenching in frustration. That’s what arguing with Blondie will do to you, the guy had a way of getting under your skin and tugging at your nerves until you snapped. It was impressive to see when you weren’t on the receiving end of it.

“All I’m saying is that you have bad taste.” Blondie says, his eyes are closed, and he was tying his hair back into a small ball with a scrunchie. A rose gold sleeping mask was placed just above his eyebrows.

Cecil slammed his face on his pillow and yelled into it while simultaneously kicking his legs back and forth.

Luke turned to face the wall and laid down. Watching those idiots fight was entertaining but got old after so long. It really spoke to how annoying they were if Luke would rather dream about being chased down and eventually made into lizard shit than listen to their nagging for longer than he had to.

Less than ten minutes later every light throughout the fourth ward shut down and the harsh click of the door locking them in from the outside echoed through the halls, signaling that the day was officially over.

Luke shut his eyes and let the sandman take him, hoping that he wouldn’t wake up sick this time.

.

.

.

Soft waves of the sea crashed down on the bumpy rocks scattered across the ocean, sea foam was bubbling at the end of the waves like soap suds. The strong smell of salt penetrated my nose, but it was different than before, calming.

Peaceful.

I looked up only to be greeted by clear blue skies, not a cloud to be seen nor did a drop of rain fall down. A small flock of what looked to be seagulls flew by, greeting me with their loud chirping.

A pinch at my toes stole my attention, I peeked down to see a small red crab nipping at my feet. 

My small feet.

Looking back at my hands I see that they’ve gotten smaller as well, my fingers are no longer long and slender but short and stubby like a small child’s. My knuckles were clear of any ink, I'd had my tattoos for so long that the sight of the unmarked skin was foreign.

The crab nips at my feet again.

I pick the creature up. It’s small, fitting in the palm of my tiny hand almost perfectly. The crustaceans’ claws are nothing to be scared of, they’re no bigger than the current size of my thumb.

Sticking my finger out, I let the little thing grab it. The points of its claw pinched hard enough to hurt but weren’t sharp enough to break my skin.

The crab's shell has white and pink specs covering the pale red base, there are also a couple barnacles littered on its back. A tiny strip of slimy seaweed was stuck between its legs.

I walk over to the water and gently place the creature in, letting it float away with the waves.

Sand is gathering between my toes; I wiggle my toes together causing the small grains of dirt to tickle at my skin. 

I stare forward, mesmerized by the waves coming high only to soon sink low in the distance.

“Luke!” A deep voice I don’t recognize calls out to me.

Where am I?

“Luke!”

“Luke!”

Luke’s eyes snap open as he jumps halfway up from his bed, breathing heavily like he just ran a marathon.

Simone is above him, looking down with a soft smile and eager eyes. He was moving from side to side as if he was physically incapable of holding still. The boy's quick movements were messing with Luke’s already fuzzy brain. “Come on Luke, they just restocked the Honeybuns in commissary. Cecil’s grandma sent a hundred dollars last night so he’s going to buy some for all of us, let's go before they're all sold out.” He tugs at Luke's arm trying to get him to move.

“Wait, just give me a minute.” He swallowed thickly trying to put his thoughts in order before he acted on anything. Unsure of everything around him.

Simone sighed and took off running, muttering about something having to do with sweets.

Luke fell back flat onto his back and closed his eyes, replaying the memory of his dream.

His new dream

I think I'm going to pass out.

Chapter Text

Soft waves of the sea crashed down on the bumpy rocks scattered across the ocean, sea foam was bubbling at the end of the waves like soap suds. The strong smell of salt penetrated my nose, but it was different than before, calming. Peaceful.

“Luke.”

I walk over to the water and gently place the creature in, letting it float away with the waves.

“Is he daydreaming?”

A deep voice I don’t recognize calls out to me.

“Luke!”

Luke is pulled out of his head by Simone’s shouting. His roommates are staring at him, faces painted with concern mixed with amusement, mostly concern on Simone’s end.

Cecil walks over to Luke’s side of the couch and pushes him over as he takes his place, sauce from his bowl of Ramen drips onto the cushions. Luke shook his head, Cecil couldn’t help but make a mess wherever he went, it was a key part of his nature.

Like how the Gods have continuously shown Luke that suffering is a part of his.

It’s been an entire week since the first time Luke dreamt of standing at the shore, watching as calm waves flowed in the distance. It was peaceful, relaxing and every other word he could think of that was associated with tranquility. But whereas the average person would let out a deep sigh of relief at being blessed with such a nice dream after years of endless suffering, Luke was having an existential crisis. 

Whatever was happening to him was not normal. Not for him.

From day one Luke has dreamt of being chased, nothing more, nothing less. No matter what he did, not a single thing about it changed. He’d tried everything he could think of from calming soundtracks on YouTube to completely changing his diet and getting more exercise, the list went on. 

When those options proved fruitless, he began to try other methods.

One summer in the seventh grade Luke stumbled upon some random bullshit article explaining how large quantities of alcohol could disrupt the sleep cycle and stop dreams in their tracks. Luke, being a tired, desperate twelve year old, decided to use the lunch money he saved up over the weeks to pay one of the addicts that always stood outside of the local liquor store to buy him a bottle of whatever the man felt was the strongest.

Later that night Luke waited until his foster parents were gone and downed half the bottle like a thirsty man in the desert who miraculously stumbled upon a lake of fresh water. 

At this point in time Luke had only taken a few sips of liquor here and there, mostly due to peer pressure by other foster kids and loser delinquents at whichever severely underfunded school he was attending at the time. 

The taste was bitter, once the liquid went down his entire throat felt as if it was on fire, Luke was certain that his vision had gone blurry from the alcohol going straight to his head. How he had been able to drink so much was shocking.

He passed out on the spot almost immediately.

Luke was five feet even and weighed no more than 80 pounds soaking wet at the time, how he hadn’t died of alcohol poisoning that night was a mystery.

The pain turned out to be all for nothing because he still had the dream. 

He woke up with the most severe headache he’d ever had the displeasure of experiencing on top of receiving a savage beating from his foster mother who found him curled up on his bed with the bottle still in hand. She stripped him nude and forced him into a freezing cold shower then beat him with a thick weaved belt. If he concentrated hard enough, Luke could still feel the slashing of the belt against his backside.

More recently he’d had a fucking brain hemorrhage, yet still had that god damned dream. 

Nearly killing himself from alcohol poisoning didn’t solve his problem and a blood vessel in his brain popping like a water balloon didn’t help either, so what did? 

It wasn’t like Hellhot was a relaxing stress-free environment. Even though the fourth ward wasn’t as bad as he initially thought it would be, it didn't mean the place was all sunshine and rainbows. The inmates weren’t pleasant to live among, they were dirty, loud, and made everything unnecessarily harder than it had to be, the guards were assholes and a good portion of the nurses somehow managed to be worse.

The only positive thing about the medical wing was that it wasn’t nearly as dangerous as the general populace, with the exception of the first ward, and their workloads were much lighter as well.

However, that consolation would soon be stripped from him since Luke’s brain scans came back better each time he went in for a checkup and his leg was almost fully healed. 

His last visit to the doctor’s unit was yesterday, after endless weeks of waiting Luke finally got his nose gauze removed, revealing a fully healed albeit slightly crooked nose. Luke never thought he’d be so happy to see the appendage. After the doctor examined his nose to make sure there was no pain, she told him that his leg bandages as well as his stitches should be removed in four weeks’ time. All that would be left is a few rounds of physical therapy and he would be given a clean bill of health, ready to move into the general populace.

The possibility of that news bringing sweet dreams was astronomically low.

A sharp pinch at his shoulder grabbed Luke’s attention. “Ouch, what the fuck?” Luke turned his head to see Cecil giving him a puzzled look, noodle sauce spread across his lips, slowly dripping down his chin.

Does he not feel that?

“You’re daydreaming, again .” Cecil squints his eyes and puckers his lips as he slurps another wet noodle. Luke ignores his urge to wipe his roommate's mouth.

“Yea, you’ve been stuck in your head for days now. At first it was funny but now I’m getting concerned.” Simone chimed in; the boy was eating one of the many Honey Buns he had stocked up on from the commissary. He initially grabbed so many of the glazed treats that the women at the front desk had to inform him there was a limit on how many items each person was allowed. 

Simone’s pout at the new information melted the woman’s heart and she let him buy way more than was allowed. 

Pros of being a middle schooler with chipmunk cheeks, Luke supposed.

He sighed, “It’s nothing serious, I just have a lot on my plate right now.” His words weren’t exactly a lie since he did have a lot going on at the moment. Mostly, a shit ton of meetings with Alicent in the upcoming week. Apparently, the attorney had something important she needed to discuss with him on Monday. Luke was worried that she was coming to tell him she no longer wanted to be his caseworker.  

Were his fears warranted? Not really, from the letters they’ve been exchanging in the last week Alicent has given Luke no indication that she wanted to abandon him. If anything, she seemed ready to walk him into that courtroom and defend him, guns blazing, but that didn’t stop his brain from jumping to conclusions.

Blondie threw his sandal at Luke; he moved to the left, dodging it just before it hit his head. “Bitch, have you forgotten we’re in jail? We all have a lot on our plates, especially Cecil, but you don’t see him spacing out every three seconds.”

Cecil frowned, quickly nodding his head in agreement. “Yea, my granny is sending me letters everyday now. Her doctors won’t let her get her blood pressure medicine anymore. Something having to do with our insurance card declining and I can’t help cause I'm stuck in here.” He took a deep breath, having worked himself up at the thought of his grandmother’s bad health. “She’s alone out there.” His voice was small, barely a whisper.

Cecil’s confession tugged at Luke’s heart. He always spoke highly of his grandmother, she’s the one who raised him since his dad was always too drunk to stand up straight, let alone raise a child. Luke couldn’t imagine what it must be like for her to be sick and without proper help.

Luke took Cecil’s hand in his and squeezed it for all he was worth, he hoped it conveyed the message he was trying to send.

Cecil squeezed back. “So, you feel like sharing what’s got your head in the clouds or what?” He stuck his hand out in Simone’s direction and waved it around, their own personal signal they used to indicate the other wanted food. Simone reached into the box of Honey buns sitting on his lap and threw one towards Cecil, hitting him square in the face with it.

“C’mon man.” Cecil sucked his teeth, disappointed at his friend’s horrible aim.

Simone giggled then focused his attention on Luke. “You don’t have to share if you're uncomfortable. Unlike some people I understand not everyone is an open book.” Simone’s eyes were now directly on Blondie who was seated with his back to the window. The blonde always took the same spot when they spent time in the common area.

Blondie rolled his eyes. “Personally, I don’t understand why everyone isn’t like me. What’s the point of having secrets when every other part of our lives is common knowledge? We literally see each other ass-naked in the showers on a daily basis, I think we’ve moved past the point of keeping things private.”

Of course Blondie thought that the guy told everyone his business no matter how personal. And if he didn’t verbally tell you, you would likely find out by physically walking in on it. He literally had no concept or understanding of the term ‘too much information.’

“If anything that’s just all the more reason for Luke to not share.” Simone defended him. He turned back to Luke. “Are you not sharing because you already have so little privacy? That’s understandable.”

Luke gave Simone a small smile, the younger boy was a breath of fresh air. “Something along those lines. I like to keep certain thoughts to myself for as long as I can, it’s nothing against any of you, really.”

Simone smiled back and stood up, crumbs from his previous snacks falling off his jumpsuit. He walked over to Luke and sat down in front of him on the floor. “You need to write in your journal.”

Luke furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “I do write-”

“No, you don’t, not like you should.” Simone quipped.

Blondie cut in. “I thought Doctor Grayson said there’s no wrong way to use our journals.” He said in a mocking tone.

“Says the guy that literally threw his journal away just to piss our therapist off and got an attitude like a bratty little girl because he didn’t give a fuck when you told him.” Cecil laughs, throwing a piece of his pastry across the room at Blondie.

Blondie caught it and threw it back at him, growling out. “Don’t throw your shit at me.”

Cecil stuck out his tongue, using his arm to lift himself slightly off the couch as if he was about to get up. “And what are you gonna do about it?” Before Blondie could retaliate, Simone shouted at them to stop. They froze in their places and mumbled under their breath before going back to their previous positions. 

Simone took a deep breath, clearly exhausted from always having to mediate their roommates halfcocked fights. Luke didn’t blame him, stopping those two from going at each other's throats was basically a full-time job. 

“As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted. You need to write down how you feel, if you aren’t comfortable telling us you should get it out on paper. Anything is better besides letting the bad thoughts fester in your head, that’s not healthy.”

Healthy? Luke snorted. Health had never been a priority for him, only numbing the pain. He couldn’t give less of a shit about health if he tried. His past escapades were hard core proof.

“Neither is almost blasting half your foot off.” Cecil blurted out, interrupting their conversation.

“Like a Mormon?” Blondie chuckled.

Cecil’s face twisted up into a mix of anger and embarrassment. “I thought we agreed to not bring that up again?”

“Didn’t I tell you two to stop it?” Simone groaned. He turned his attention back to Luke. “So, what do you say?”

Luke bit his lip. He never liked the idea of writing anything of personal in something that can easily be stolen or invaded. It wouldn’t be difficult for someone to open the book and read all of Luke’s inmate thoughts. The possibility scared him, Luke had never been afforded the luxury of having true privacy and he definitely didn’t have any in here.

It isn’t that he didn’t trust his roommates, but more or so that he often let his paranoia get the best of him.

He didn’t even know how he would start. Does he have to write down every thought that comes to mind or should he plan it out? He put his head down and massaged his temples, this wasn’t going to be easy.

“I’ll try.” He agreed, mostly for Simone.

Simone gushed, more excited at the idea than Luke himself. “Great and let me add that you don’t only have to write, you can also express how you feel by drawing a picture too! Oh, do you want to borrow some of my colored pencils?” Simone continued to babble on. 

Luke didn’t have the heart to stop him.

A soft knock at the door catches their attention. It opens and nurse Phillipa walks in with a wide grin as usual. Today her scrubs were white and covered in images of the dwarfs from snow white paired with a matching head covering like the Disney adult she is.

If Luke had any money, he would bet it on Phillipa having multiple coffee mugs in her house that say a bunch of cringy shit like ‘adulting is hard.’

“I hate to disrupt you boys' fun, but Cecil has an Appointment with Doctor Jackie in thirty minutes, ok? I need everyone to wrap it up and head back to your room.” She chirps as she folds her hands, waiting for Cecil.

Cecil stands up. “See you guys later, you may even be blessed with the sight of my other sleeve when I get back.” He wiggled his eyebrows, slightly holding up his cast covered arm as high as possible. 

“Nothing about you is a blessing.’ Blondie shouted with an attitude.

Cecil gave Blondie the finger much to Phillipa’s displeasure.

Cecil comes back right before dinner sans arm cast. 

He doesn't look as happy as Luke assumed he would be. Cecil had been complaining about his cast since they met each other, constantly ranting that his skin underneath the material was horribly itchy. 

Did something happen?

As soon as Cecil sits on his bed Blondie comes over and grabs his newly freed arm. “Oh, would you look at that?”  Blondie purrs, tracing the newly freed tattoo going up and down Cecil's arm. 

The tattoo is of a snake wrapped around his tricep. The black outline is thick, and the shading is deep, the snake itself is orange with hints of red and yellow. To Luke’s surprise it was a good tattoo, unlike his others.

Luke hobbles over to Cecil on his good foot, not in the mood to use his crutches to walk such a short distance. He plops down beside Blondie and follows his lead, tracing the slightly raised skin of the tattoo. Now that he’s closer Luke can truly appreciate the design, the detail is amazing, small scales, sharp fangs, the creature’s tongue poking out almost as if it was hissing.

“Who did it?” Luke asked, still focused on the tattoo.

“Would you believe me if I told you I did it myself?” He questions, the side of his mouth upturned into a smirk.

“No.” Everyone answers in unison.

Cecil laughs. “My granny did it.”

“No way.” Blondie says.

“Yes way, who do you think got me into tattoos in the first place?” 

“She’s amazing. When did she do it?” Luke asks, it wasn’t shocking to him that Cecil’s grandmother was the one who inspired the boy's love for body art. Luke had spent time around many artists, some good while others weren’t so much so. Most told him they started tattooing because of a family member, usually a parent.

From what Cecil’s told them, his grandmother might as well have been his mom, so it made perfect sense.

A fond look takes over Cecil's face. “Three years ago, I’d been practically begging her to tatt me for years at that point. She always refused cause she hadn’t picked up a tattoo machine in decades and didn’t wanna fuck me up.”

“Obviously her concerns were needless.” Luke replied.

Cecil’s face lit up at the praise his grandmother was receiving, he looked proud as he lifted up his arm and continuously flexed his muscle, causing the serpent to look as though it was moving. 

“Be careful, you just got your cast removed.” Simone chastised, looking worried with a tiny hint of fondness at his friend's nerdy behavior.

“Sooo.” Luke slurred as he laid back against the pillow at the head of Ceci’s bed. “How does it feel to have the open air grace your skin after so long.”

The light in Cecil's eyes dimmed at the mention of his fully healed arm. “It’s nice.”

The silence after his words is damning. Everyone knows that in the medical ward once a patient is deemed fully healed, they’re sent to the general populace to serve the rest of their sentence. Cecil was only here because of his broken arm, but now that he’s been given the all clear...

Luke swallows thickly, automatically thinking of his own future. He was given four weeks, a full month before he was thrown to the dogs in the general populace like a piece of meat. 

Simone breaks the silence. “What did they tell you?” He asks hesitantly, just barely getting the words out. Voice trembling with fear for his friend's future.

Cecil sniffles, his eyes are red rimmed and shiny with unshed tears. He was terrified, they all were. “That my arm is a hundred percent healed. I’ll be sent to the general populace in two weeks, right after my court hearing.”

Simone’s face was one of heartbreak. Luke knew that out of all of them his bond with Cecil was the strongest, those two might as well have been Siamese twins with how stuck together they were. Blondie wasn’t doing much better either, he had turned his head around refusing to look at anyone or let anyone see him.

Luke felt a deep pain in his chest sinking down to his stomach. He was clenching his jaw, his teeth scraping against the others as he gritted them. 

“All I can do is hope the judge lets me spend the rest of my sentence on house arrest instead of keeping me here.”

“They should. You stole an ugly ass car, so what? It’s not like you killed anyone with it. You should’ve been given house arrest in the first place.” Blondie snapped.

“Is this your first offense?” Luke asks, Blondie turns to him, eyebrows quirked in confusion as to why that mattered. 

“It’s important to know. When it comes to simple things like theft, how harsh of a sentence you’re given usually depends on your past. If this is Cecil’s first, second or even third offense, it’s likely that he won’t be punished so harshly.”

Thank you, Jayne for that tidbit of information. 

“Eighth that I've been caught on. Nothing major, shoplifting and pickpocketing mostly.”

Luke nods, he wants to tell Cecil that there’s still a chance, but he’s sure the boy isn’t in the mood to hear such things. Luke isn’t certain he would even believe the words himself, and the last thing Cecil needs is lies filled with uncertainty being whispered into his ear.

Their room door suddenly unlocks and cracks open, the sounds of other inmates running downstairs lets them know it’s time for dinner.

Simone stands up and brings Luke his crutches. Once he hands them over the chubby boy automatically turns to Cecil and takes his face in his hands.

“Let's go eat.”

No matter how much ketchup he drenches his food in, the slices of meatloaf they were served that night taste like ash on Luke’s tongue.

He’s sure it’s the same for the others too.

The next day Luke decides to follow Simone’s advice and use his journal to get his true thoughts and feelings out in the open. The guys were in the common area at the moment, since Luke was alone in their room, he figured it was the perfect time. 

In addition to that his meeting with Alicent was in an hour so his emotions were jumping all over the place. 

There was no better time to get his feelings out than now.

Luke sat his pillow in his lap to use as a sort of makeshift desk and opened his book to a fresh page. The unmarked paper was intimidating in a way it had never been before, he was staring at the blank page completely lost.

It wasn’t as though Luke was clueless as to how to write what he was feeling in general, his letters to Alicent were proof of that. He may not have opened his heart to the woman, but he told her a bit more than he would most. The few letters they exchanged helped Luke establish what felt like a budding sort of trust with her.

At first, he was confused when nurse Tywin dropped an envelope on his lap the day after his first meeting with Alicent. He didn’t have anyone on the outside who wanted to write him so a letter was unexpected. When he opened it and saw Alicent’s name written on the line of the sender he was confused as to why she hadn’t called him if she had something important to tell him. 

As it turns out Hellhot was very unique when it came to outside communication. Calls to inmates from the outside weren’t permitted, no matter who was on the other line. 

Luke then realized that he had never seen anyone ask to go make a call. 

When he asked why calls weren’t allowed Phillipa told him it was due to the potential risk of inmates spreading or receiving information they weren’t allowed access to. Because of that, sending letters was the second most used method of communication behind in person meetings.

Officers would open and read all in and outgoing mail so if anything sneaky was transpiring it would be stopped before it could get started. It was dumb and sounded like way too much work. Wouldn’t it be easier to simply monitor phone calls? 

Maybe that made too much sense for these idiots to understand.

Luke held his pen to the paper.

His grip tightened, he closed his eyes and told himself to relax, this wasn’t life or death, just words on a piece of paper. Not a big deal in the long run.

He began.

For as long as I can remember I've been haunted by a recurring dream of being chased by a monster. An enormous beast, larger than anything I've ever laid witness to. Expanding across what looked to be the entirety of the sky.

Ok, he was getting off to a good start. 

As I close my eyes, I can almost see it. Its dry, scaly skin was deep green, similar to the shade of sea moss or seaweed. Some areas were darker, almost black, while others like the underside of its belly were so light they appeared to be yellow. I have never been able to see close enough but as far as I can tell the beast had sharp, pointy spikes littering the top of its head. Did the spikes flow down its back or do they stop at the crown of its head I wonder.

The dream is my own, I should know right?

Luke noticed his grip on the pen was so tight that it was pressing down on his finger, leaving an indent on his skin that was quickly becoming tender. He loosened his grip and continued, doing his best to not stress himself too much.

This was supposed to be freeing, not stressful.

Coming face to face with a monster such as that was always a frightening experience no matter how many times I lived it. Real or not. 

The behemoth's eyes were so yellow I swear they were glowing, its nostrils expanding in and out with deep breaths caused a clear gust of air to appear with each breath it took. 

One of the most horrific parts of the encounter was always the snapping of its jaw. For a monster of that size it was surprising that it had the ability to move so fast. But then again anything was possible with my imagination, right?

The smell of the giant's breath is enough to make me hurl just thinking about it. The stench was like no other, sometimes I swear that it follows me throughout the day, permanently stuck in my mind wafting into the real world. The smell was a mix of rotten meat and what I can only describe as death.

When the monster sneaks up behind me and snaps its merciless jaws, I avoid it by a single hair. The relief I feel quickly dies down when I remember what’s soon to come.

My death.

Dying in this dream feels so real, I can feel my flesh being ripped into and my insides bursting, my lungs fill with blood, and I can barely breathe. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve such cruelty, to be haunted by it every night of my life. Was there a sin I committed that I'm unaware of that I must atone for?

Thinking about it hurts. All I've ever wanted, all I've ever hoped for, is for the pain to stop, to have just one night where I didn’t have to fear one of the most natural parts of life.

Tears fall from Luke’s eye’s splashing onto the paper, a single tear hits the edge of the freshly drawn ink causing it to spread. It sort of resembles one of Simone’s watercolor paintings he’s constantly showing him.

Recently my prayers were answered with the most beautiful dream I could’ve ever wished for.

I was standing at the shore of a beach, I appeared to be a small child again, my tiny chubby hands and feet were clear of the wear and tear from over the years. The sky was clearer than I could’ve ever imagined, an almost ethereal shade of blue.

The sun was shining down, strong rays of warm light felt amazing on my skin. Waves of the ocean crashing down were a hypnotizing sight to behold. 

Truly something out of a novel.

I want to be happy; I want to jump up and down and rejoice but I can’t. Something feels wrong. I know something is wrong. There’s something, someone trying to call out to me, but no matter how hard I focus I can’t make out what’s being said.

For the past week I’ve done my best to pay attention to the voice calling out to me but it’s useless.

I have people around now. They care about me I think, even Blondie with his pissy attitude. Still, I can’t help but feel alone, like there’s a hole inside me that needs to be filled.

I feel so lost. Like I’m aimlessly wandering around with no precise destination.

Something is missing.

Luke’s journaling is disrupted by a hard knock at the door. Tywin enters and looks at Luke with a face of boredom, uninterested in why the boy was shedding tears. “Time for your meeting, let's go.”

Luke’s eyes go wide at the nurses’ words, has it been an hour already? He looks back at the paper. He hadn’t written much, only about a page and a half.

“Ok.” He answers, placing his journal under his blankets and taking his crutches in hand. Standing and getting around with his crutches has become incredibly easy over the last weeks, it’s hard to believe there was once a time that he struggled with them.

Once Tywin walks Luke out of the ward a male officer takes his place and escorts him the rest of the way 

Once they reach their destination, the officer opens the door for Luke.

The room he’s brought to is different from the one he was in during the last meeting, the walls are beige, and the floors are light gray, there’s a large window facing the backside of the jail letting in a nice amount of sunlight. It looked more like a classroom, only smaller and without all the chairs rather than a prison meeting room.

“Luke.” A familiar voice squeaks out happily. 

Luke turns his attention to Alicent sitting at a small round table on the opposite side of the room beside a smaller window. A wide smile is plastered on her face, she looks happy to see him.

She stands and speed walks over to him, holding out her arms. Before she envelopes him in a hug she pauses, likely remembering his aversion to touch from their last meeting. 

Luke opens his arms shyly while still holding onto his crutches. Alicent’s face lights up like a Christmas tree at his invitation for physical contact, she takes him in her arms and holds onto him for dear life, slowly rocking them both from side to side.

“Hi Alicent.” He mumbles, face stuck in the side of her neck smothered by her hair.

She comes back from the hug but keeps her arms under his armpits and folds her hands behind his back. “Oh Luke, I’ve missed you so much.” She reluctantly lets go of him and helps him towards the table she was sitting at before he arrived. “Come on let’s sit, shall we?” He tried to tell her he didn’t need any assistance, but she wouldn’t hear it. 

Once they’re seated he takes a good look at her.

Her hair was the same as before, but this time it was pulled behind her ears giving him a good view of her gold hoop earrings. She was wearing a lacey white blouse that was tucked into her pants with a high collar, her puffy sleeves were pulled up to her elbows. The pants she was wearing were fitted just like the ones from their previous visit, but this pair were high waisted and light brown. 

Luke finds himself a bit disappointed that the flared portion of her pants covered her shoes, he wanted to see the full outfit.

“You look pretty today.” 

Her smile becomes wider, causing the dimple in her cheek to pop out even more. “Aren’t you a little flatterer? You look lovely as well if I do say so myself.” 

Luke chuckles at her comment, he agreed with her to an extent. He looks a million times better than he did during their first encounter, his nose gauze has been removed and he’s finally gotten some good quality sleep, as good as possible on the hard prison mattress at least. 

Though the sudden change in dreams has taken an even bigger toll on his mental health, his sleep has been peaceful.

He’s dressed better too. Last time he was caught off guard, and in a rush to get dressed whereas today he took some time to make himself look more presentable. Be that as it may, he does think using the word ‘lovely’ to describe him is a stretch. 

“How has your day been so far?” She asked, crossing her legs. 

Luke plays with his fingers nervously, not sure how to go about answering the question. He for sure wasn’t telling her he was crying his eyes out moments ago over something so stupid. “It’s been fine, nothing interesting has happened really.” 

“I understand, to be truthful, aside from big court dates or snooty dinners I rather not attend. The majority of my days are pretty boring as well, just eating cake and playing with Nugget.”

Interesting. From the way she presented herself Luke would’ve guessed dinners schmoozing with other rich people would be more enjoyable for her. Then again, her personality was a complete one eighty from how she looked.

“How is Nugget?” Luke asked, the last he heard about the Terrier was in a small note written on the bottom of a letter from Alicent telling him the little guy had somehow broken into her neighbor's car.

She laughed and held her hand up to her cheek. “That devil? He’s grounded indefinitely. Gods, I pray that you never have a neighbor knock on your door and tell you that they had to call emergency services because your dog broke in their car and got trapped between the gearshift. I’m embarrassed just thinking about it.”

He nods, not in understanding but to keep the conversation going. “I started journaling today. Well, I’ve been journaling for a while, but I wrote down some personal stuff this time around.” Luke blurts out, nervous and unsure of any other way to continue their talk. 

He mentally slaps himself for bringing it up.

Luke is certain the woman has already read through every available file on him, she knows by now that his life is shitty. She literally took him in as a charity case, so he preferred to keep what little privacy and dignity he had left to himself. 

Why the hell would he tell her that?

“That’s great, I’ve heard writing is a good way to help a person work through their emotions. I hope it’s helping you. I need to follow your example, there are a lot of things I know for a fact I should be working through.” She smiles sadly.

“My day has been a bit hectic to say the least. I don’t even know where to begin. Let me think this over.” She hummed while in thought, it sounded like a song, but he didn’t recognize the melody. “I mentioned my children the last time we talked, yes? So, my daughter Helaena is currently attending KL university for entomology.” She says, her eyes held a sparkle that could only be seen in a proud parent.

Luke can feel his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. Alicent had a daughter in college? She didn’t look that old. The woman had told him about her kids during their time exchanging letters yet she never said anything specific, he automatically assumed her kids were toddlers or middle school aged at the most. Were all of her kids older, or was it just her daughter? 

Maybe it was a teen pregnancy. Luke had befriended many expecting teen moms in his short life, it wasn’t anything shocking or rare. He’s sure that if he had been born the opposite sex he would have more than just a few babies running around making a mess of things with their temper tantrums and shitty diapers.

Thank the gods for small miracles.

“What’s entomology?” He asks.

“Oh yes, sometimes I forget that most people don’t know anything about that. Entomology is a branch in zoology, specifically the study of creepy crawlies.” Alicent wiggles her fingers mimicking what he assumes to be spiders.

“She’s studying bugs?” Luke questions. He thought It was a bit weird. Though realistically he knew that bugs were important and they were used for medicine and all kinds of other shit that he can’t recall at the moment, he still found the little creatures disgusting and anyone who willingly touched them was a maniac in his opinion. 

Tiffany once told him that shrimp are the cockroaches of the sea, while he was halfway through a plate of shrimp alfredo no less. He was pissed.

“Yes, she’s always been fascinated with insects ever since she was old enough to explore the gardens and search for them. I used to be so upset when I caught her digging in the dirt and getting her dresses all filthy with a handful of worms.”

“Gardens? As in multiple?” Luke snorted. 

How rich was this woman?

Alicent licks her lips. “Oh no, we only have one garden of course but it is quite big. We have a large family, we need a lot of space to accommodate everyone…” Alicent trails off, her lips slightly puckered. He sees the gears in her head turning as she attempts to steer the conversion in a new path.

“Speaking of families, I have something very important to discuss with you today. A judge has been assigned to our case. His name is Judge Stone and I met with him yesterday along with Sydney Winston’s head lawyer. A date for the hearing has been set, two weeks from today on January 14th.”

Luke’s eyes go wide in shock, that was Cecil's court date. “What courthouse will it be at?” 

“Dorne Federal courthouse, all inmates at Hellhot are sent there for their hearings.” She answers.

Holy fuck

“In two weeks, right?” He asked for a second time; he needs to be positive.

Alicent’s face screws up in worry. “Yes, I’m certain, is everything fine Luke?”

“Yea, I'm great. Please continue.” 

She nods. “Tomorrow I'll Be taking you to the courthouse so we can practice and act out the process to rid of any qualms you may have, Jayne will also be joining us, she’ll act as the judge and I the court hearer. I’ve booked a three-hour session so there will be plenty of time for us to make sure we get everything down packed.”

“Three hours sounds like too much; the judge is only going to ask what my plea is.”

“You are correct, however when we take into account how long it takes for everyone that must be present to arrive and set up, as well as go over their notes and correct any errors that may have slipped through the cracks, you're looking at a three to four hour day in total, even though the hearing itself will only last fifteen minutes at the absolute most.”

“That’s fucking stupid.” He grumbled.

Alicent’s face morphs into a look of amusement as she giggles. “That my dear is the beauty of court.”

Beauty of court my ass.

“There is another thing I must discuss with you.” Alicent says.

He nods, signaling for her to say what she needs to. “Do you remember Jayne saying anything about the possibility of a court mandated foster family taking you in once the judge allows you your freedom while we wait for the trial?”

Luke thinks back to the last conversation he had with the red head. He recalls her saying something along those lines but never put much thought into her words. He didn’t see the point at the time since he was sure he would be spending the rest of his time in Hellhot. What backwards ass family would agree to take in a kid under suspicion of attempted murder anyway?

“Yea, I remember.”

“I know an amazing couple who are well known and respected in their community that would love to take you in.”

Luke blinks rapidly, unsure that he heard correctly. “Excuse me?” She had to be pulling his leg, there was no way in all seven hells that anyone would allow Luke into their home. Well known and respected? More like batshit crazy with a few loose screws.

She giggles excitedly, her eyes light up and she starts practically buzzing in her seat. Why the fuck is she so happy?

Is this the part where he regrets agreeing to her managing his case?

“Their names are Rhaenyra and Daemon Lannister; I have told them a lot about you, and they are extremely excited to meet you. Would you like to meet them?” Alicent asks, clearly hoping he would agree.

He doesn't reply, instead looking at her trying to figure out what she was playing at. 

Alicent could sense his reluctance as clear as day and decides to take matters into her own hands. “They’re a very lovely couple, they’ve been married for fifteen years and have three children, two sons I'm confident you’ll get along with and an adorable baby girl that’s sure to melt your heart. They are very liberal people, the most nonjudgmental pair I’ve ever come across. I know you have your reservations about this, but I swear on everything I hold dear that you will not regret letting them take you in.”

Luke had no immediate response, Alicent’s rant was more than a lot to take in all at once. 

He was unsure of this random couple’s intentions. You had to be an actual saint to welcome a stranger being charged with attempted murder into your home around your young children.

Not to mention that all foster parents are given a rundown of their potential foster child's past actions which includes a behavior and personality chart assessment. On paper Luke didn’t have a single redeeming quality. 

This couple had to have an ulterior motive.

“What do they want?” He asked, his words must have come out harsher than he intended because Alicent looked worried.

“Whatever do you mean?”

“Please excuse me when I ask you to cut the bullshit. This couple wants to take me in, I understand, but what’s the catch?” 

Alicent looked hurt. “Do you truly think I would lie to you? I know you’re scared but all I ask is that you trust in me. I would never hand you over to someone I didn’t know like the back of my own hand”

“So, you know them well?”

“I trust them with my children's lives, they are truly my family.”

Luke grits his teeth.

I hope this is the right decision.  

“You said their names are Rhaenyra and Daemon right?” He asks.

He looks into Alicent’s eyes and sees a glimmer of hope.

“When do I get to meet them?”

Chapter Text

Sand is gathering between my toes; I wiggle my toes together causing the small grains of dirt to tickle at my skin. 

I stare forward, mesmerized by the waves coming high only to soon sink low in the distance.

“Luke!” A deep voice I don’t recognize calls out to me.

Where am I?

“Luke.”

Luke opened his eyes, rapidly blinking away the crust from last night’s sleep. He wiped at his mouth instinctively at the feeling of cool drool pooling at the side of his bottom lip.  

“Luke, did you hear me? I said, pass the detergent.” Cecil complained, upset by Luke’s lack of attention at their current chore. He didn’t want to be there anymore than Luke did.

Luke let some saliva pool in his mouth which was still stuck together from lack of use since the start of the day. “Here.” He grabbed and handed the large jug to his roommate across from him.

At the moment Luke and Cecil were on laundry duty, the pair rarely were assigned together to work, so finding their way around one another while they did their assigned job was proving to be complicated. Luke was used to working alongside Blondie, and Cecil with Simone. So, neither of the boys were used to how the other functioned in this sort of environment.

Luke constantly nodding off wasn’t helping much either.

He knew his daydreaming was starting to annoy the guys, but he couldn’t help it, seventy percent of the time his dream was the only thing on his mind while the other thirty percent was the upcoming trial. He was stressed the fuck out.

Such a big change in his life has occurred and he couldn’t even tell anyone because they would think he was out of his goddamn mind. Imagine not only trying to explain to someone that since you’ve had the ability to retain memories, you’ve been dreaming of being eaten by a glorified dinosaur with wings, but also how now that you have finally found peace, you’re upset about it.

Luke was absolutely certain that would earn him a round trip ticket to a private therapy session with Dr Grayson, which was the last thing he wanted.

He didn’t write anything else in his journal when he came back from his meeting with Alicent, too tired with a head full of new knowledge he was having trouble comprehending, choosing to take a nap instead.

It's funny. Him, Luke Rivers, out of all people, actually willing to take a nap. Ridiculous.

Cecil sighed in frustration when he took notice that Luke was once again in his own head rather than focusing on the task at hand. They had already been here for an hour and had only washed one out of four loads of laundry. “C’mon man, I understand you got a lot going on in that big brain of yours, but we need to get this done before Tywin’s annoying ass gets back.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” Luke apologized, scrubbing his eyes and mentally chanting to himself to get his act together.

“I understand bro, I got things going on too. My hearing is coming up real soon” Cecil says.

“When’s your court date again?” Luke asked, finally starting to fold the pile of uniforms sitting in front of him. The clothes had been there for so long that they were no longer hot from the dryer, a testament to how long he’d been standing there daydreaming.

Cecil dumps the next load of dirty clothes into the washing machine, making a face when the smell of the filthy garments hit his nose. Luke is glad he chose to fold clothes instead of washing them.

“The fourteenth I think, why?”

Luke hums. “Mine too.”

Cecil’s head snaps to Luke, eyes wide. “You're shitting me.”

Luke held his hand up in the air. “My right hand to all the Gods.” He didn’t believe nor have any faith in any of the Gods, but Cecil didn’t need to know that. 

Cecil looked to be in deep thought, he walked back over to Luke and slammed his hands on the countertop. “That means you're going to the courthouse so you can practice with Alicent today, right?”

“How did you-”

“Cause I’m going today too. Well, not with Alicent of course but I’m going. Olivia is supposed to come for me at 2:00pm.” 

Luke put down the clothes he had in hand. That’s an hour after Alicent said she would arrive to pick him up. Cecil must have noticed the confusion on his face and began to clarify. “I know you’ve never been in the pen before so let me explain. There are only a few days out of the month where the courthouse lets juvenile inmates come to court, I don’t know why but that’s just how it is.” 

“Because of that Hellhot has to assign every inmate a specific court date for their hearing out of the one’s available. So there ends up being dozens of us going to court all at the same time. Rico down the hall from us has court on the fourteenth too.”

“I assume he also has a rehearsal today?” Luke asked.

Cecil snaps his fingers. “Bingo.” A look of uncertainty comes across his face. “Or at least that’s what Olivia told me; I think.”

“It makes sense.” Luke assures.

Cecil nods but the frown etched on his face remains. “Are you feeling confident?”

“To be frank, not at all. Alicent has been trying to get me to be more optimistic but I can’t. No judge in their right mind is going to let me out of here. Not with the charges I’m facing” Luke proceeds to start folding the clothes again, more quickly this time around. The current conversation made him more aware of what little time they had to finish their work before they were to leave.

Alicent had spent the last twenty or so minutes of their meeting attempting to surge some confidence into him. Luke felt crappy when he saw how hard the woman was clearly trying to make him trust her words. He knew he was stressing her out.

Last night while the others were sleeping he laid awake in his bed repeating her words to himself, sadly to no avail. He felt no more convinced than he did before.

“I feel the same way. All that judge has to do is take one look at my past arrests and it’ll be over” Cecil frowned. His arms were shaking a little, causing some uniforms to fall out of his hands whilst he was moving them from the washer into the dryer.

Luke, now finished folding, hobbles over and picks them up then throws them in the machine. “At least we’ll be sent back to this shit hole together.” He said, patting Cecil’s shoulder in support. 

Cecil grinned and returned the gesture with care. “We might even be cellmates again.”

Luke rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically, the chances of that happening were one in a million, but he humored the pink haired boy anyway. “Maybe so, but if the Gods hold any sort of love for me they wouldn’t.”

He laughed and playfully shoved him. “Don’t act like that, you know you love me.” Seeing the boy laugh after his moment of despair gave Luke a warm feeling in his chest. 

“Yea whatever, let’s finish this shit so we can leave.”

Cecil raised an eyebrow. “Oh, so now you wanna get shit done.”

Luke didn’t feel the need to respond to Cecil's obvious bait. He rolled over the cart containing the next load and went to work.

Two hours of hard work flew by. Luke and Cecil finished just in time for Tywin’s arrival. After their work is approved, he and Cecil are given the green light to go back to their room and get ready for their later departure.

When Luke enters their living quarters he sees none of the other guy’s there, likely still downstairs scrubbing toilets, a punishment for not finishing the laundry yesterday. The poor things were assigned the worst job an inmate could receive. Luke may have never been assigned to bathroom duty, but he knew well enough from common sense as well as other inmates' complaints that it was absolute hell.

Being forced to use those filthy toilets was punishment enough, he didn’t want to imagine what getting down on your knees and cleaning them must be like.

Luke’s heart went out to his roommates, Simone specifically. Luke knew firsthand how much of a pain in the ass Blondie was when it came to getting chores done, the blonde was a total drama queen.

Cecil makes a noise similar to a small shriek and skips over to his bed “Damn, they gave us new outfits.” He said in awe as he held up the fresh pair of black jeans that were laying crisply on his blankets.

Luke looks over to his bed and spots a new outfit as well, a plain white t-shirt and blue jean shorts, there was also a pair of all white sneakers on the floor that seemed to be brand new. Who the hell brought him this stuff? Outfits given to inmates by staff were usually old and worn down, sometimes still smelling of the person who wore them prior.

He picks up a single shoe and inspects it, it’s definitely new, not a scratch or speck of dirt to be found. 

He sits down, letting his crutches fall back against the wall and strips down to his underwear 

“Can I ask you something, Luke?” 

Luke looks to Cecil as he attempts to get his bandaged foot into his pant leg without bending it too much. “Yea?”

“Do you mind telling me more about your tatt’s?” He asked, pulling a coral pink shirt over his head, similar to the color of his hair.

Luke looks down at the ink decorating his skin, he had more tattoos than the average seventeen year old, but not nearly as many as Cecil. Though he figured that the size and placement of his pieces made up for it.

Cecil has asked Luke about his tattoos before, curious as to when he got them and how painful they were. They guy really did have an infatuation.

A majority of the time, Luke isn’t in the mood to converse about tattoos with Cecil, way too caught up with the shit show going on in his head. Even so, there was something about the way he asked that melted Luke’s ability to deny him. ““What do you want to know?”

Cecil sticks his tongue out to the side of his mouth, fiending deep thought. “Tell me your reason behind them.”

“My reason?” That question was unexpected. Taking into account how many tattoos’ Cecil had, Luke didn’t think he was the type to think tattoos had to have a deep meaning.

“It doesn't have to be anything down to earth. I just wanna know what made you get them. Any one of them” Cecil further explains.

Most of his tattoos had no real meaning. Other than his seahorse he only got them because they looked cool. He could say he got them because he wanted something that truly belonged only to him and couldn’t be ripped away but decided against it. Luke didn’t want to fuck up the mood with a pathetic sob story.

He pointed to the tattoo on his sternum, right between his pecs. “I like Vivienne Westwood.” He stated simply. Some might say getting a designer symbol permanently etched on your body just because you liked it was dumb. To that he would ask, wasn't the point of getting tattoos to cover yourself in things you adored?

Luke loved Vivienne, mostly because of the anime ‘Nana.’ 

He discovered the show in sixth grade after hearing about it from a friend in science class. Luke fell completely and utterly in love with the way Nana and Hachi dressed. He was obsessed with how they styled themselves and rambled about the show to anyone that would listen.

A childish part of Luke still wishes he had access to a wardrobe like the characters on the show.

“What about those?” Cecil pointed at Luke’s knuckles.

He looked down at his hands and began to caress the chunky letters.

The words ‘dead end’ were drawn in a mix of gothic and old Westerosi font. They weren’t good quality work, be that as it may, they still looked nice in his eyes. Probably because they were the first tattoos he ever got. Personal attachment and all that other crap.

“Nothing deep, it was my first one and I was kind of depressed when I got it.”

Depressed was an understatement, Luke got it a year before he moved in with Tessa after getting out of his first ever group home which hadn't been a good experience. The home’s ward was a pervert, always coincidentally barging in on them while they just so happened to be getting dressed or using the restroom. 

The first time Luke became aware of the man's inappropriate behavior he was in the bathroom getting ready to take a shower. He was naked from the waist down when he noticed he hadn't gotten a towel to dry off with. He decided to run out and retrieve one before anyone saw him. 

Looking back, he has no idea why he didn't just put his pants back on.

When he opened the door, he came face to face with the man, he was standing there as still as could be, face blank and breathing heavily. Luke’s eyes wandered down and he caught sight of an obvious bulge.

He slammed the door in the man’s face and stood there in shock for what seemed like forever.

When he came out of his trance he turned off the shower and put back on his previously discarded clothes, no longer comfortable enough to get undressed, let alone take a bath. After building up the courage to open the door. Luke let out a sigh of relief when he saw the man was no longer there.

Luke shook his head to rid of the memory. That was a can of worms he wasn’t in the mood to open.

As Luke put his shoes on, he decided to ask some questions of his own. “Why do you always tattoo yourself? Can’t you just order some of those pig skin sheets from Amazon?”

Cecil shrugged, looking down at his arms twisting and turning them. Luke wondered what was going on in the typically upbeat guy’s head. “It may sound stupid but-”

Before Cecil could answer, the door opened revealing nurse Phillipa. “You boys look dashing.” She squeaked. They thanked her and she stepped out of the way, gesturing for them to walk out. 

Cecil grabbed Luke’s crutches for him and followed behind him as they left.

Phillipa handed them off to two officers once they exited the fourth ward. 

A knot formed in Luke’s belly as they were led towards the first building.

This would be his first time stepping off Hellhot grounds in over a month. It was strange, in reality he had been there for a short while, yet he felt as though he had spent an entire lifetime there

Entering the main building Luke almost gaped at how busy it was. There were dozens of inmates packed in the halls talking to officers as well as people with briefcases he assumed were their case workers. Luke could’ve sworn they passed by others from the fourth ward in the crowd, but he wasn’t sure.

Suddenly, a man Luke didn’t recognize came up to them. He was dressed in a blue suit and his demeanor was one of agitation. “Luke Rivers and Cecil Sand, correct?” He asked, looking at the officers escorting them for confirmation rather than the boys themselves. The officers curtly nodded and the man instructed them to follow behind him.

He took them to a small room across from the building's main entrance, Luke is certain he passed by the exact room during his booking process. 

His eyes landed on a brunette woman with long hair who he automatically knew was Alicent by the way she carried herself, only she could seem to be confident and nervous at the same time. She was standing by the desk, evidently, mid conversation with who he assumed was a receptionist. 

“Luke Rivers, anyone here for Luke rivers?” The man in front of them yelled out.

As soon as the words left the man’s mouth Alicent spun around. The attorney looked ecstatic at Luke’s presence. She skipped past the man towards Luke, holding her arms out ready to hug him. Luke opens his arms and is pulled into her tight grip.

“Are you ready to go?” She asks after letting him go, she was practically shaking with excitement and a bit of what Luke deemed to be anxiety. 

“Yep.” He answers, popping the P. 

A lie from the pits of all seven hells.

She softly pats him on the cheek and leans in, gently whispering that there’s no need to be scared, they’re only going to the courthouse to practice. 

“Ahemm.” Cecil clears his throat.

Luke looks over, his cheeks go red, having forgotten the boy was there. As he scrambles to introduce him to Alicent, Cecil cuts him off, deciding it was for the best to take the introduction process into his own hands.

“Hey, I’m Cecil.”

Alicent quirked an eyebrow, her face morphed from excitement at seeing Luke into amusement at Cecil clearly faking a deep voice. The idiot sounded like he was attempting to do a Darth Vader impression and failing miserably. If Luke didn’t know any better, he would’ve sworn he heard one of the officers suck their teeth at the display.

“Hello young man, you’re a friend of Luke’s I presume?” Alicent asked, moving to shake his hand.

Cecil visibly gulped and nodded, too nervous to say anything else to the woman. When he doesn't reach to shake Alicent’s hand Luke nudges him on the shoulder, the dumb ass was probably too shocked to move. He inquired about Alicent on a daily basis, clearly enthralled by her infamy. 

She laughs and wraps her arms around him instead. Luke is sure he can see Cecil’s brain explode through his eyes. She gives him a few good pats on the back before letting go. She reaches over and wraps her arm around Luke’s. “I would love to talk but we must get going, I’ll see you another time Mr. Cecil.” She chirps and gives a corny two finger salute.

As Alicent moves to walk Luke out of the door he looks back at Cecil “See you soon alright?” 

Before he could catch the other boy's reply Alicent touches Luke’s cheek to get his attention. “Do you remember our schedule for the day, or shall I remind you? No worries if you need the reminder, I always need a reminder for things no matter how simple the task.” She rambles as they make their way out the building.

“Can you remind me please?” 

“Of course, darling”

When the unfiltered breeze of the wind hits Luke’s skin for the first time in over a month it feels like heaven. The cool air dancing around him is like a kiss from mother nature herself. Leafs and wisps of sand float away in the distance as they’re carried away by the wind.

The bright sun shines down hitting his cheeks, Luke closes his eyes as he looks up to bathe his face in the warmth.

He takes a deep breath, not caring about whether or not he looks like a weirdo, which he’s certain he does. 

He hasn’t had a breath of fresh air in what feels like forever. There was something so fulfilling about breathing in real air straight from the heavy winds of nature and not from a dirty air filter that hadn’t been cleaned in who knows how long.

“This way.” Alicent instructs. 

Luke opens his eyes and looks to his front; his breath is knocked away once his gaze lands on the very expensive Range Rover truck Alicent is guiding him towards. 

“This is your car?” He asks, marveling at the vehicle. Luke wouldn’t have guessed in a million years he would ever get to see something so nice in person. The only cars Luke had any familiarity with were Toyota’s, Honda’s and police cars. The third one more often than not.

“She's a beauty, isn’t she?” Luke wasn’t looking at her, but he could hear the smile in her voice.

He nods in agreement; beauty is an understatement.

When he takes his eyes off Alicent’s car, he notices the prison gates open revealing a black car that Luke is certain is a Bentley. 

Are luxury cars falling out of the sky today?

The car drives over to them and parks on the side of Alicent’s truck. Luke notices Alicent’s grip on his arm tightens by a pinch, he isn’t sure if the woman is aware of her movements, she seems to be doing it unconsciously.

The door opens and a man steps out. 

A tall man.

Alicent walks over to the man and because the woman has his arm in a chokehold Luke has no choice but to follow.

He takes a good look at the mystery man, his hair is a dark brown mop of curls with a full beard to match, his broad shoulders remind Luke of a wrestler. He can see his arm muscles pop out even under his long-sleeved shirt. 

He was incredibly intimidating to must it simply

The man stares at Luke and smiles without teeth. “Hello.”

Once Luke took a moment to really focus on the man’s face, he noticed that he wasn’t as intimidating as his physique made it seem. His smile was soft, dare Luke say gentle. His eyes were dark brown and filled with something akin to sorrow. That alongside the smile made it look like the man was simultaneously having the best and worst day of his life. 

Alicent takes a deep breath as though she was trying to calm herself down, her grip tightened once more. “Luke, this is my bodyguard Mr. Harwin Stark. He’s been loyal to me and my family for well over a decade now”

Bodyguard? What the fuck did Alicent need a bodyguard for?

“Hi.” Luke repeats, voice cracking slightly.

Harwin chuckles, on the surface it’s filled with happiness, but Luke can sense something deeper he’s holding back. Desperation?

He’d hate to know what’s got this guy’s emotions all twisted up.

“Hello, just call me Harwin,” Harwin says once again, extending his arm for a handshake. Luke, for reasons unknown even to himself, looks to Alicent for confirmation. 

She nods happily.

Luke takes the bodyguard's hand in his own, his grip is strong, Luke can feel the hard calluses built up from what he’s sure is years of hard work. Harwin shakes his hand back eagerly, smiling like he won the lottery.

Luke takes his hand back, having had enough of the man’s touch. “Can we go now?” He asks Alicent.

She looks at Harwin, holding his gaze for a few seconds before the man turns to open the car door, motioning for Luke to get inside. He hobbles over and slightly throws himself in the seat, ignoring Alicent scolding him for being rough on himself while still injured. 

He rolls his eyes at that, he’s damn near healed and could walk without the crutches if he really wanted to, it might take some time to get around, but he could do it as long as he was patient.

Her bodyguard looked distressed when Luke threw his bandaged leg across the seat like it was a sack of potatoes. When he noticed Luke was staring at him his concern quickly melted away, replaced by a mask of nonchalance. 

Luke is confused when Alicent suddenly opens the opposite door and climbs in next to him. Was she not driving?

When he turns his head to the front he’s greeted by a familiar head of red hair. “Jayne?” He asked suspiciously. Jayne turns, just like during their last encounter she looked unimpressed by Luke’s informal greeting. “Mr. Rivers.” She acknowledges before turning back around to start the car up.

Alicent buckles her seatbelt. “Luke, be a dear and hand Harwin your crutches please.” 

Luke then notices he never closed the door behind him, Harwin was standing there looking straight inside the car, particularly at Luke.

What’s this guy's deal?

Luke pushes his crutches towards the bodyguard earning him a cheeky smile in return, he waves before closing the door. 

While Alicent and Jayne are chatting, he looks back to see Harwin opening the driver's side door of the car he arrived in.

I can’t believe she gave her bodyguard a Bentley.

“Luke, put on your seatbelt darling, we don’t need you potentially getting hurt with Jayne’s horrible driving.” Alicent quipped, her hand now on his shoulder. Luke chuckled when Jayne gave Alicent the finger, the attorney was so caught up in making sure Luke was properly strapped down that she didn't even notice.

Once Luke was tied in, Alicent clapped twice. “Alright, let's be on our way.”

Before they sped off, Luke looked back to the facility and caught sight of a head of pink hair stepping into a red car. 

The tension he had unknowingly been holding in his back melted away.

Driving with Alicent is an interesting experience. 

She was very vocal in many ways other than talking, she often hummed, squeaked, and muttered under her breath. The woman honestly seemed to be in her own little world with nothing but her quirky thoughts.

Luke admired that.

As they pulled off, she started chatting to Luke about a plethora of things, mostly the couple that were interested in fostering him. Apparently, the pair lived all the way in King's Landing, thousands upon thousands of miles away from Dorne. This led to confusion on his part, Luke was certain the couple weren’t planning to up and move their entire family down here, so he didn’t understand how Alicent thought this fostering situation would work out, 

“I know you’ve never been there, and the area may seem intimidating from the outside looking in, but I assure you there is no need to worry, you’ll enjoy it there, I can feel it” Alicent Tries to reassure him, much to her dismay Luke wasn’t having any of it.

Luke sighs for what feels like the millionth time in a row. “My point isn’t about whether or not I’ll like it there. It’s that no judge that’s working with a full deck is going to allow me to go all the way to King’s Landing.” Gods, it was like everything he said went through one ear and out the other with this lady.

Luke doesn't have the broadest understanding of that law, but he did know for a fact that when someone was charged with a crime in a certain area the court wouldn't allow them to travel out of their jurisdiction.

Especially not when the location was halfway across the damn country.

If by some miracle the judge did agree to letting Luke move to King’s landing, who’s to say Luke wouldn’t just run away as soon as the opportunity presented itself?

Alicent pursed her lips and placed her open palm in the middle of the seat directly between them as a peace offering, a small gesture of comfort the two had developed rather quickly. “I need you to trust me Luke, everything will work out in our favor. Don’t fret over minor details, I have the situation under control.” 

Luke gulps, fingers twitching. “Why do you always say that?”

“Say what?”

He makes a fist, trying to kick the urge to hold Alicent’s hand. “Say ‘we’ or ‘our’. Your future isn’t going to go down the drain if I'm convinced.” 

Alicent gasped faintly, so soft that Luke almost didn’t hear it. She quickly pulls his hand into hers. “Look at me Luke, please.”

Luke was staring out of the window at the scenery flying by. They passed several historical buildings, statues dedicated to famous Martell’s, and one of the biggest Christmas trees he had ever laid eyes on in the middle of what looked to be an outdoor shopping center.

That’s right, I missed Christmas.

Oh well, it wasn’t like he had anyone special to give a gift.

Or vice versa.

“Luce-Luke, please.” She whispered brokenly.

Luke reluctantly looked at her. She was holding his hand over her heart as she tenderly caressed his knuckles. Something she did often. “We’re in this together , you hear me. I will never abandon you.”  

Owen told him something like that once.

He nodded. “Alright.”

Alicent held onto his hand for the remainder of the ride.

He desperately wanted to shove her touch away.

“Everyone ready?” Jayne asked before they stepped out.

They were currently parked in front of the courthouse steps. Alicent looked at him with a questioning gaze, displaying what she wanted to say without having to say it.

It’s up to you.

Luke took another peak at the building where he would be receiving his fate in two weeks.

The courthouse was several stories high, on the roof stood a small round structure resembling a gazebo with what looked to be a statue sitting at the tip top. There were dozens of pillars scattered around the building. At the sides of the structure were Giant windows that rounded at the top, all made up of colorful glass; they reminded Luke of the windows at churches.

From what he could see, the entire courthouse looked to be made out of marble.

It was amazing.

“I’m ready.” He answered.

Jayne got out and Alicent followed behind her, calling out to Harwin to come and help Luke.

Luke groaned in annoyance. He didn’t need help; he was perfectly capable of getting out of the car on his own. A fractured knee, which was almost fully healed might he add, didn’t make him invalid. Luke opened the door and hopped out on his good leg, making sure to put menial pressure on the other.

He slowly made his way to Alicent who was talking to Harwin. “No need, just hand them to me.” He called out.

Neither Alicent nor Harwin looked pleased.

Alicent’s face morphed into a look of concern and frustration, she balled her fists and walked over to him angrily, the clicking of her heels serving as background music. “Are you mad? You’re hurt, Luke.” She waved her hands in Harwin’s direction as he rushed over with Luke’s crutches.

The muscular man looked just as, if not, more upset than Alicent. 

Weird.

Luke grabbed hold of his supports and steadied himself, ignoring Alicent as she fussed about his recklessness. He knew she was doing it out of a sense of duty, but that didn’t make it any less irritating.

“Hey you.”

Luke’s gaze fell on Harwin whose hands were held up, almost as if he wanted to grab onto Luke. “Be careful, you were given crutches for a reason. Don’t hurt yourself trying to prove something that doesn't fucking matter.” His voice was commanding, assertive. Completely opposite from the relaxed tone he spoke with earlier. 

Luke didn’t reply, holding back the intense urge to tell the man he should mind his own business.

What Luke did or didn’t do was none of his concern.

“Let's go everyone, we only have the room for the next two hours.” Jayne shouted, already making her way up the courthouse steps.

“I thought we were going to practice for three hours.” Luke asked.

Alicent groaned as her upper lip twitched “Minor change in plans, they let me book three hours no problem, but when I checked on the reservation this morning they told me two was the limit, Morons”

As they ascended up the stairs, Luke noticed something was off. “Wait, why didn’t an officer follow behind us?”

Luke was certain that at least two officers were always supposed to accompany inmates no matter where they went, if they didn’t it would lead to an awful number of escapees. So why did no one follow behind him? The chances that sending an officer alongside him slipped their minds was unlikely.

Luke tried to look back once more to affirm his suspensions, but Harwin’s big ass was blocking his view. 

Alicent patted his shoulder. “No need to worry about that. Let’s get going.”

Inside the courthouse was even more beautiful than the outside. Almost everything was white, from the pillars at the ends of the staircase, to the marble floors that were so clean Luke was confident he could eat off of them. The high ceiling looked to stretch all the way up to the sky, there was a grand spiral staircase connected to the walls and Dornish art graced the walls.

In the middle of the courthouse was a ginormous glass chandelier, lit up by candles rather than lightbulbs, the colorful glass windows casted beams of shimmery, rainbow-colored light all around.

It looked more like an art museum than a court of law.

“This way.” Jayne said, guiding them to the practice court room. 

The room was brightly lit with numerous light fixtures on the ceiling, the walls were white and brown with small black lines creating a pattern of squares, and the blue carpet was also decorated with the same lines. 

At the left side of the room where Luke assumed the jurors were supposed to sit, there were two rows of chairs each separated from the other by a wooden panel. In the middle of the room stood two podiums, one larger than the other with a microphone that resembled the Pixar lamp and the other a smaller version. 

Alicent handed her briefcase to Jayne who took it over to the judge’s seat where she assumed the position for their rehearsal.

She guided Luke over to the small podium. “Before the hearing we will be in the back room, once our names are called I, as well as an officer of the court will guide you behind here where we’ll be standing.” She stepped in the middle of the podiums. “The speaker of the court will be stood right here as they read out all the important information such as the charges being pressed against us.”

Alicent pointed to the larger podium. “Sydney’s head lawyer as well as Sydney himself will be over here, but you don’t even have to look at them let alone acknowledge them. Just pretend like they aren’t there once the time comes.”

Easier said than done.

The attorney walked over to the juror's seats. “Because this is simply a hearing there will be no actual jury, the only people that will be sitting here are court witnesses who have to do boring stuff like type everything that happens on the record.” 

She turned and pointed at Jayne. “And I’m sure you know who will be sitting up there. Do you have any questions before we start, darling?” Alicent inquired, she was tapping her foot and rubbing her hands together, she looked to be jittery about something.

He shook his head. “No, we can start.”

Alicent smiled and gave him a shaky thumbs up. “Perfect.”

As they acted out the hearing the routine got repetitive rather quickly, the entire process from Jayne calling out the case number to Luke stating his plea took twenty minutes at most. It was so simple that Luke thought it was odd that this was something that required practice at all. 

After what felt like forever, Jayne stood and announced they were finished for the day, much to Luke’s satisfaction. He was sure he would go crazy if they kept going at it any longer.

“How are you feeling? Is there anything you feel we should go over once more?” Alicent asked.

“No, I got everything down packed.”

Alicent and Jayne both nodded, Jayne gathered her belongings and told them she would wait for them in the car. Harwin, who had been standing by the door the entire time like an idiot, also left behind her. However, he made an odd gesture to Alicent before stepping out.

Alicent got closer to Luke and clasped her hands together, she took a deep breath to prepare herself for what she wanted to say. “Luke, there are some very special people I would like you to meet if that’s alright with you.”

Just as the words left her mouth the doors squeaked open. 

A man and women walked in, hand in hand. They both had light blonde hair with a slight golden tent. The woman was about the same height as Luke, she was a little chubby as well, especially in her cheeks. Her hair was cut into a shoulder length bob, parted down the middle with one side pulled behind her ear.

The man was taller, Luke couldn’t see his body type from under the coat he was wearing, but he could tell his shoulders were broad. His hair was short yet longer on one side and flipped over to the right.

The woman was dressed in a plain white top that was tucked into a pair of flowy satin dress pants held up by a golden belt. Over her shoulders was a light pink fur coat that Luke had no doubt took dozens of small animals to make. Her stiletto heels also had fur on them which wrapped around her ankles.

Poor chinchillas. 

The man beside her was dressed just as nice as she was, he had on an all-black suit with gold buttons and wore a long black coat with golden swirls covering the shoulders.

Just looking at them made Luke feel poor.

As if he didn’t get enough of that feeling when he spent time with Alicent.

“Luke, this is Rhaenyra and Daemon, as I told you, they’re interested in becoming your foster parents.” Alicent stated, fidgeting with her fingers as she stood next to him.

“More than interested.” The couple blurted at the same time. 

Luke’s face contorted in weariness. The couple seemed so…eager.

Daemon had his arm wrapped around Rhaenyra while she held onto his waist, her hold was so tight it seemed as though she would tumble over if she dared to let go.

“Hello.” The woman greeted, she was shaking as if she were stuck in negative degree weather, the slight shake in her voice made it sound like she was about to fall out at any given moment. She was trying her best to hide it, but it was as clear as day how anxious she was.

Her husband on the other hand was the picture of calmness, his lips were upturned into a smirk as he looked Luke up and down. When his focus landed on Luke’s uncovered tattoos his smirk turned into an amused smile.

What the fuck?

These people were making him more anxious by the minute, Luke could feel sweat collecting in his palms the longer Daemon held his gaze.

The couple didn’t say anything else, simply taking in the sight of Luke as if he was going to disappear if they looked away.

Maybe agreeing to meet these people wasn’t a good idea on Luke’s part.

Alicent, like the life saver she was, chose to step in and get the ball rolling since neither Luke nor the couple were going to do so themselves. The brunette was probably dying on the inside from the pure amount of awkwardness filling the air.

They were literally just staring at each other.

“Luke, as I told you yesterday, you are required to stay with a foster family while we wait for the trial, which could take up to a year to actually happen considering the weight of the charges. Rhaenyra and Daemon want to foster you in the meantime, I’ve told them much about you and they are excited to get to know you.”

Luke scoffed, what could she possibly have told them to get that reaction?

Rhaenyra stepped closer to Luke, still in her husband’s grasp. “Hello, I know this may sound a little odd, but may I please hug you?” The tone in her voice was desperate. Her husband began to rub circles on her shoulder to soothe her.

Luke was stunned by the request. Hug him? “I’d rather not, no offense.” He tried to deny her gently, attempting to not sound too harsh. Rhaenyra looked as though she was about to cry or shit a brick, perhaps both.

He held out hope she did neither, not in the mood for another rerun of his first encounter with Alicent.

Eventually the woman nodded, respecting his wishes. 

Her look of dejection made him feel like an asshole

“We can shake hands though.” He spoke.

Both Rhaenyra and Daemon perked up at that. Rhaenyra’s eyes sparkled as if Luke’s words brought a surge of life through her. She smiled, causing the dimple in her cheek as well as her chin to poke out.  

She grabbed his hand and held onto it tightly. “It’s very nice to meet you Luke, I- I’m very happy to finally see you in the flesh.”

“Likewise.” Her husband agreed. Amusement and something else Luke couldn’t put his finger on fluttered through his eyes. 

Alicent spoke up. “I think it would be best to tell Luke a bit about yourselves.”

Rhaenyra nodded, now smiling after being able to hold his hand, which she had for some reason not let go of yet. Luke didn’t have the heart to pull away, she seemed so happy to touch him.

“I’m Rhaenyra and this is my husband, Daemon. I’m an OBGYN, so my days are spent around many expecting parent's and their babies. Daemon has been working at the same law firm as Alicent for the last ten years.” Her smile got even wider once she mentioned Alicent, Luke could see Alicent look at Rharnya fondly out of the corner of his eye.

Daemon decided to chime in. “We have three children, our oldest Aegon, just turned thirteen. He’s currently in his ‘I hate everything phase’ So, he’s been getting on my fucking nerves as of late.” He chuckled thinking of the moody teenager.

“Our second, Viserys, is nine. He’s our more inquisitive one, always asking for answers to shit I don’t know, and our daughter Visenya is two, she’s our special girl.” Daemon looked proud as he told Luke about his children.

“We live in King’s Landing, as I’m sure Alicent has told you. It’s absolutely gorgeous there, there are a lot of fun places to go. We live close to one of the largest sea aquariums in the entire state. I’m sure you would have a ball there. We take family day trips there all the time” Rhaenyra said, enthusiasm lacing her voice.

Daemon nodded in agreeance

“That sounds nice.” Luke said slowly. He felt like his head was about to explode from the influx of new information coursing through his mind. This was proving to be more to take in than he thought he could handle.

This couple was trying their hardest to convince Luke to come with them. It scared him, these people were coming on so strong and he didn’t have a single clue as to why. None of this was making any sense, what could these two possibly see in him? Did they need an unsuspecting street rat with no family to serve as a human sacrifice or some other weird shit rich people probably do in their spare time?

Right now, Luke wanted nothing more than to lay down and let the world go dark around him. 

He wanted to go back to the beach in his dream where the grueling parts of reality melted away

There, he didn’t have to do anything besides just existing.

“I see that you’re confused.” Rhaenyra said.

“The last thing I want is to start our relationship off on a lie, so allow me to be honest. The reason I’m so emotional is because you look very similar to my son who passed.” 

Once she saw Luke make a face at her confession she rushed to continue.

“But please don’t think that’s the reason we want to foster you, we’ve looked into what happened and we know you’re innocent. You should be nowhere near a prison, let alone a place like Hellhot. What that man did to you wa-was.. . ” She sniffled; Daemon held her even tighter.

The man made a sour face, looking as if he just ate something spoiled. “That cunt’s six foot tall and a cheeseburger away from being three hundred pounds. What you did was nothing more than self-defense, to say it wasn’t is preposterous.” He sounded angry, the wrinkles in his forehead were popping out. 

He kept talking Luke wasn't listening, to focused Rhaenyra's words'.

Dead son that looks like him?

…Lucerys?

Now the pieces were beginning to come together. 

Alicent more than likely told them Luke resembled her son and that’s what convinced the couple to look at his case. It made a world of more sense than simply doing it out of the kindness of their hearts.

Luke pondered for a moment. If he looked that much similar to Rhaenyra’s son, the chances that he would be treated badly lowered significantly. It was less likely that he would be mistreated if simply looking at him tugged on the couple’s heartstrings so severely.

However, it could also backfire. Who’s to say once the Deja vu wore off they wouldn’t act cruelly.

He looked at the pair in front of him.

Well, this is the best offer I’m ever going to get.

“Ok.”

Rhaenyra and Daemon looked confused, meanwhile Alicent, who has spent the last week getting to know his personality through letters, knew exactly what his words meant. The attorney was smiling from ear to ear, eyes continuously looking between Luke and her friends.

“You can foster me if that’s what you want.” He continued.

Rhaenyra went still, then suddenly rushed forward and pulled Luke into her arms.

“Thank you, sweet boy.” 

Chapter Text

January 1st, 2023, Stone Inn Hotel, 1 hour after meeting

“Gods, I'm such a fool. Why on earth would I do that?” Rhaenyra muttered as she paced across the living room of their hotel suite. Daemon and Alicent were both following along beside her, each attempting to calm her down but their efforts proved useless.

Alicent grabbed her hands, effectively stopping her in her tracks. “Nyra, I understand you’re upset but stressing yourself won’t help any.” She attempted to reassure her friend.

“How can I not? I clearly scared him. I saw the look in his eyes, Alicent. I frightened him, I- “She broke down into a fit of sobs, unable to hold back her hurt any longer. She had been waiting so long for this moment only to ruin it.

Alicent pulled Rhaenyra into a bone crushing hug. “You did nothing of the sort.” She tisksed. “I did the same thing as you the first time I met with him, and my behavior was way more off putting. We just need to make sure everyone is able to tone their reactions down a little before we bring him home, yes?”

Rhaenyra nodded yet her cries persisted. 

Jace stood up from his place on the couch, no longer having the strength to stay silent in the matter, not when his mother was so upset. “Mom, I think it would be a good idea for us to-” 

Aegon huffed out an amused laugh, he couldn’t hold it in any longer. Jace was standing with his back hunched in the most awkward looking position ever, the fool looked like the hunchback of Notre dame.

It was way worse than a simple case of bad posture, the kid was obviously suffering from a medical issue. Scoliosis perhaps? He should google what scoliosis looks like later on so he could bring this to Jace's attention because Rhaenyra, Daemon, Harwin nor the gay one clearly weren’t going to do anything about it.

As a parent how could you sit back and watch your kid walk around like that? It had to be worrying. Aegon looked over to Daemon who he noticed wasn’t doing too well posture wise either. 

Is he sure Jace isn’t his biologically?

Aegon’s laughing grew louder which caused Daemon to look at him with a murderous glint in his eyes. “Pray tell, what about this is so funny to you, nephew?” The older man seethed with anger at Aegon’s crude behavior during what was meant to be a serious discussion.

Aegon breathed a sigh and scooted up, ignoring Jace’s protective stance. Gods, even after being given a second chance at life his nephew still hadn’t taken the opportunity to learn how to actually be menacing.

It should’ve been a piece of cake considering who his fathers were. It was truly a mystery, just like the boy’s back issues.

“I’m not laughing at my sister or her pain. I don’t know if any of you have noticed but I want Lucerys back just as much as the rest of you.”

Aegon ignored Jace’s growling in the background. Honestly, why did the boy think snarling like a stupid dog was scary? If anything, it made Aegon want to give him some doggy treats, a Scooby snack specifically.

He continued. “It’s obvious you’re coming on too strong and it’s freaking him the fuck out. I mean, telling him he looks like a dead kid then asking to hug him? I’d be shocked if he didn’t think you were a freak. You can’t act like that, none of us can.”

Rhaenyra’s look of dejection got even worse causing Daemon to snarl while his mother gave him the evil eye and gestured for him to zip his mouth shut.

“Well how should we act then smart ass?” Baela growled from over the phone, Aegon jumped in surprise when he heard her voice, he had forgotten Jace facetimed her after his mother called for a family meeting.

God’s, was she growling too? Was that some strange sex shit she and Jace started doing but it’s become so normal that now they can’t stop it?

Baela, Rhaena and their grandparents had been in Essos on a trip when Alicent broke the news of Lucerys return. Daemon called Rhaenys faster than a pin could drop and they boarded the first available plane ride back the very next day.

From what Aegon heard, Corlys had choked on his morning orange juice when the girls told him Lucerys had been found, a sight Aegon sadly wasn’t there to witness.

It seems that the God’s didn’t intend for them to arrive on time to see the long-lost boy since their plane suddenly had to take an emergency stop for unknown reasons. They’ve been stuck at a hotel in Pentos for the last week and Corlys hasn’t been able to book another plane or boat ride back.

He bets the bastard has been pissed off the entire time.

Aegon laughed. “Well for starters, we treat him normally, not like our long lost Lucerys but like any other normal kid who needs help.”

And wasn’t that an understatement. 

His mother tried to stop him from reading her case documents, even going as far as to hide them under Helaena’s spider pit so he wouldn’t go peaking, but Aegon didn’t let that stop him. As Lucerys uncle it was his job to know every tiny detail of what the little shit’s been up to. And boy he’s been up to a lot.

When Aegon read what had happened he was certain he was going to shit himself from shock right then and there. His nephew had done quite a number on that motherfucker, the man probably looked like a crash test dummy after getting a beat down like that. Aegon had never been prouder. 

Much to his confusion Lucerys had been arrested and was facing a pretty hefty jail sentence. Aegon for the life of him couldn’t understand why. The Luke he remembered was a frail thing who was always hiding behind his mother’s skirts, he probably even slept in the same bed with her and Daemon, telling them he was too afraid of the dark to rest in his own chambers or some other childish bullshit. 

It was crazy to think he beat that man out of his own volition. From the way the alleged attempted murder was described, it was obvious Lucerys had been desperately fighting for his own life.

No one bashes someone’s brain’s in simply because they felt like it. Well, at least not nowadays due to laws and shit.

It made him wonder how much little Lucerys had grown up. The documents he earned the rights to read fair and square, said he was seventeen now, so he finally had a chance to fully go through puberty. Was he big and tall like Harwin? Or did he still favor Rhaenyra? If he remembers correctly there were whispers of the people calling Lucerys the new realm's delight back then. 

Aegon asked his mother about Lucerys’s side of the story, but she merely told him to hush and wait for Lucerys to arrive and become comfortable enough to reveal it on his own.

Ugh, that would take forever.

“He’s not just anybody you stupid, beer belly having twat.” Jace spat, his fists were clenched and his shoulders were tensed up. 

Ok, that hurt. He did not have a beer belly; it was more of a beer pouch.

Aegon disregarded Daemon’s delighted chuckle and his mother’s pleas for them to not argue.

“No shit Sherlock. That's not the point though, now is it? We may know who he is, but he doesn’t. Whatever clicked in our brains to make us remember who we are clearly didn’t do its job with Lucerys. On the outside looking in we’re just some overly kind strangers, and if you keep acting weird he’s gonna run for the hills.” Aegon shrugged and took another sip of his warm beer, it was awfully hard being the only intellectual in his family.

Rhaenyra sighed, it was sad and despairing. Aegon’s heart broke for his sister, they had grown quite close. Their relationship was a world’s better than it had been the first time around.

“Aegon is right, we must treat him normally.” She said as she allowed Daemon to kiss her forehead.

Aegon chuckled and raised his beer in the air. “When am I ever wrong?”

“All the time!” Jace and Baela shouted at the same time. 

Aegon rolled his eyes, those two were a pair of tight asses, they really did belong together. And speaking of tight asses, he realized that Aemond was missing. Interesting indeed.

“If you’ll excuse me, my dearest family, I have some other business to attend to.” He exclaimed as he made his way towards the door.

“And don’t come back!” Baela shouted.

What a bitch. You propositioned a girl in front of her man thousands of years ago and she still holds it against you till this day. Madness.

Aegon made his way out of Rhaenyra’s suite and down the hall, following the thick scent of leather and self-loathing until he came face to face with his sibling’s room door. He dug in his pocket and got out the second room key he had bribed the chick at the front desk to give him since Aemond never allowed him into his and Helaena’s shared room.

As he walked in, he saw Aemond sitting on their sister's bed, focused on her portable spider enclosure with sad eyes. He looked halfway out of it, like he was too far inside his head. The guy clearly needed some cheering up.

“Hey buddy, you didn’t come to the family meeting I see” Aegon said in a high-pitched voice, he was trying to come off as friendly and caring. Like Rhaenyra when she was trying to convince someone to do her bidding as she batted her eyelashes at them. The someone in question nine times out of ten being his mother.

She didn’t need to do any convincing with Daemon though, he automatically did whatever she asked without question. Their love makes him want to vomit, too much PDA if you ask him.

From the way his brother was looking at him he could sense his Rhaenyra impression was having the opposite effect. Looks like that idea is out the window.

“Fuck off.” Aemond growled, his top lip slightly twitched as he clenched his jaw. 

He had to stop doing that, Aegon was positive he would break a tooth one day from the pressure. And even though the image was funny he did not want to deal with a bitchy toothless Aemond, no sir.

And what the entire fuck is up with the growling lately?

“Pump the hate breaks babe, I just wanna know how you’re feeling.”

“Eat shit.” Aemond cursed.

“You first.” He retaliated, Aegon could play this game all day he wasn’t doing anything of value anyways. 

Aemond put his head down as he started roughly pulling at his hair as if he were going to rip it out. Aegon knew his brother was taking the news of Lucerys current situation hard, but he didn’t expect this. Aemond never mistreated his luscious locs, always using the most expensive girly shampoos and hair oils he could get his hands on. For him to yank at his pride and joy like that wasn’t a good sign at all. 

But then again, his brother hasn't been the same since Vhagar took a nice big chomp out of Luke all those years ago.

Aegon put his hands on his little brother’s back. “C’mon, talk to me.”

Aemond licked his dry lips as he loosened his grip. “Which would you rather? Living with the boy you killed and having him despise your existence or living with him while he’s completely unaware of who you are or what you did.”

Aegon kept quiet. The first option sounded like a pain in the ass. Having to live with a person that despises you sucked but to do it in this era would be even worse. There were a shit ton of things you could do now to make a person’s life hell without causing actual harm.

Putting Nair in their shampoo or a large dose of Viagra in their coffee during breakfast with the family was a worse fate than death in his opinion. Aegon would know, he’s been a victim of both.

On the other hand, living with someone you killed who was none the wiser about it would probably be pure torment. You would always have an apology on the tip of your tongue but you would have no choice but to swallow it down. 

Aemond was definitely in a pickle.

“Ever since we found out the others returned as well; all I could think about was getting the opportunity to-to say sorry. I know he would’ve told me to go to all seven hells or maybe even try to take my other eye but at least I would’ve been able to make my regret known. Now…”

He pulled Aemond's hands away from his hair and forced him to look up. “What’s done is done, all we can do now is treat him kindly until Daemon finds a way to make him remember. Then you can apologize all you want” 

Aemond laughed, it was bitter and without humor. “And do you truly think he’ll be able to do that?”

“He should, the old fuck always finds a way to give our sister what she wishes for.” He smirked.

“She’s not our sister anymore. You know that right?” Aemond questioned. He was the only one that didn’t address the rest of the family by their old relation.

Aegon rolled his eyes at his brother's rebelliousness, he always had to be a whiny emo bitch, didn’t he? “She’ll always be our sister, Aemond. There’s no escaping that.”

Aegon patted his back before he stood up and made his way out of the room, leaving Aemond alone to enjoy his pity fest. The younger would eventually figure it out on his own, he always did.

Ok, maybe not always, but he did like fifty percent of the time .

Before he made his exit he turned around. “And be careful, Heleana’s bugs always find a way to escape their enclosures. We wouldn’t want those critters to shit on your eye now, would we?” Aegon laughed, pointing at his brother’s glass eye that was sitting in cleaning solution on Heleana’s nightstand

He ran out and slammed the door behind him. Aemond’s yells of anger could be heard all throughout the hallway.

“Boys!” Their mother shouted angrily; she was now standing outside of Rhaenyra’s room with the door open wide behind her. “May the God’s help you, you better not be fighting again!”

Aegon held his hand over his mouth as he ran for safety in his room. He couldn’t wait for Lucerys to get here.

Soft waves of the sea crashed down on the bumpy rocks scattered across the ocean, sea foam was bubbling at the end of the waves like soap suds. The strong smell of salt penetrated my nose, but it was different than before, calming.

Peaceful.

I looked up only to be greeted by clear blue skies, not a cloud to be seen nor did a drop of rain fall down. A small flock of what looked to be seagulls flew by, greeting me with their loud chirping.

A pinch at my toes stole my attention, I peeked down to see a small red crab nipping at my feet. 

Looking back at my hands I see that they’ve gotten smaller as well, my fingers are no longer long and slender but short and stubby like a small child’s. My knuckles were clear of any ink, I'd had my tattoos for so long that the sight of the unmarked skin was foreign.

The crab nips at my feet again. I pick the creature up. It’s small, fitting in the palm of my tiny hand almost perfectly. The crustaceans’ claws are nothing to be scared of, they’re no bigger than the current size of my thumb.

Sticking my finger out, I let the little thing grab it. The points of its claw pinched hard enough to hurt but weren’t sharp enough to break my skin.

The crab's shell has white and pink specs covering the pale red base, there are also a couple barnacles littered on its back. A tiny strip of slimy seaweed was stuck between its legs.

I walk over to the water and gently place the creature in, letting it float away with the waves.

Sand is gathering between my toes; I wiggle my toes together causing the small grains of dirt to tickle at my skin. 

I stare forward, mesmerized by the waves coming high only to soon sink low in the distance.

“Luke!” A deep voice I don’t recognize calls out to me.

Where is this place?

“Luke!” They call out once more.

I turn around and am greeted by two figures standing in the distance. I can’t see them clearly, but from what I can tell it’s a man and woman. The man is tall, he’s waving out to me, gesturing for me to come forward while the woman stands beside him quietly. 

I can’t make out their features but from the way the woman is wrapping her arms around herself I can tell she’s in distress.

“Luke, you must return. It’s important, my boy!” The man’s tone is one of urgency, he sounds worried and even a little scared.

What’s happening?

.

.

January 14th, 2023, 3:45am. Hellhot juvenile facility 

10 hours before the court hearing.

Luke's eyes blinked open as he awoke from his dream. His heart was beating fast, and he could feel the blood in his veins pumping harder than it should have been. He immediately turned over onto his stomach as he tried his best to catch his breath. He put his hand over his heart as he began to take big deep breaths, in and out. Hold for a few seconds, let go and repeat.

Over and over.

Once he’s calmed down, he rolls onto his back and looks up to the ceiling, mind going a million miles an hour, overwhelmed by everything. He felt as though the whole world was on his plate, making it overflow and he was powerless to stop it all from falling to the floor. It wasn’t the first time he’s felt like this, but it hurt just as much.

It was still dark outside; the sun hadn't even risen yet. Luke could still see the moon shining brightly, lighting up the night sky from the barred window perfectly. He figured it would be hours before the sun rose to greet them.

He’s certain that if he could hear from outside, the crickets would be chirping, and the owls would be howling. 

Luke wasn’t an avid enjoyer of being in nature, mosquitoes gravitated towards him like he was a prime cut of steak, dirt was everywhere, and the smell of grass clung onto clothes like crazy. But that didn't mean he couldn’t appreciate the beauty of nature and the animals that lived in it.

When he was still in Sydney’s care Luke would often watch the Discovery channel late at night while he attempted to fend off sleep. They would have marathons every week focusing on a specific type of animal, and he found it entertaining enough to keep him focused in his exhausted state. It made him look at nature in a more appreciative light, regardless of the fact that he’d rather stay inside, far away from leaves and dirt.

He missed it. Sitting up all through the night while Sydney was fast asleep, wrapped in his thin bed sheet while watching a documentary on the evolution of whichever animal of the week and snacking on a party sized bag of Cheeto puffs. 

At the time he thought he was miserable, looking back Luke is sure that’s the best he’s ever had it in life.

He really screwed himself over, didn’t he?

He closed his eyes and tried to fall back asleep, but his attempts were fruitless, nothing worked. From counting sheep to softly singing lullabies, his mind was too busy analyzing the changes happening to him to even entertain the idea of rest.

The night after he came back from his court rehearsal Luke’s dream suddenly changed once again. Whereas before Luke always woke up after that unknown voice called out to him, now he turns and notices a strange couple in the distance.

Two weeks have passed and since then he’s never able to see the couple clearly. For some reason once he turns to look at them his vision goes blurry. It’s as if something was blocking him from being able to see whoever was waiting for him.

Luke had learned years ago that your mind couldn’t create a person on its own, it needed some sort of real-world reference to draw from. Therefore, it would take the image of someone you’ve come into contact with in the real world, whether that be a cashier or a mail man and insert their likeness into your dream. 

Were the figures he saw people he’s come across before? If that’s the case, is it the same for whoever was chasing him? He never saw an actual person, but he heard the voice, the shouting and the angered taunts.

Luke’s afraid he doesn't know anything anymore.

Why does it feel as though someone is trying to tell him something? Luke does his best to ignore it, but he knows in his bones, in his heart, that there’s something deeper going on. If only he knew what.

He would do anything. 

Luke curled up in the fetal position and put his hands over his face, then for the first time since he was locked in Hellhot allowed himself to cry. The warm, salty tears cascading down his cheeks made Luke feel more alive than he had in a long time.

He quietly whimpers into his pillow, praying that he didn’t accidentally wake any of his roommates. He didn’t need to go through the embarrassment of being caught in the act mid crying fest.

It’s not as though Luke thought any of the guys would laugh at him or use his moment of weakness against him, he had more faith in them than that. He wouldn't be as close to them as he was if he didn’t. 

Luke didn’t like being vulnerable in front of others, of not being the one in control of a situation. He craved control, needed control, and when it was taken away from him, he was left defenseless.

Luke sighed heavily; he’d die for a shot of tequila right now. 

He shook his head to his pillow as he chastised himself, those are the types of thoughts that got him into this situation in the first place. Rotting in jail while desperately waiting for sunrise to finally get his day in court.

He’d spent the last week trying to be more optimistic about the possible outcome of the hearing, he never asked Alicent to tell him anything about Judge Stone but now that the clock is ticking closer, he’s beginning to regret it.

He knew that knowing whether or not the judge was an asshole wouldn’t change whatever sentence was given to him, but at least he would go in knowing what to expect.

Luke asked Cecil about his past experiences in court along with the types of judges he had been assigned to. The pink haired boy said some judges were more forgiving and willing to give out second chances while others were strict about abiding by the law and didn’t believe in free passes.

He wondered which kind or Judge Stone would be.

January 14th, 2023, 10:58am

As Luke looked at himself in the mirror, he couldn’t help but feel like a different person was staring back at him. His normally wild curls had been tamed thanks to the large amounts of anti-frizz cream provided by Blondie, he wore a simple clean (and clearly expensive) suit which had been gifted to him by Alicent, and most importantly for the first time in Luke’s life he looked like he had a good night’s sleep. A shocking tidbit taking into account he couldn’t fall back asleep for hours.

He could barely recognize himself; it was giving him a bad case of imposter syndrome.

Luke fiddled with his tie for the fourth time in the last five minutes, he had been constantly fixing himself up to make sure he looked as presentable as possible to the court. His presentation was extremely important at a time like this, your looks were the first thing people paid mind to when they looked at you. Especially when you were accused of a crime.

If you looked like a clean, well-rounded member of society there was a big chance you would be treated as such and vice versa.

That was just the way life went.

Though Luke knew he was, he didn't actually want the court to look at him like a lowlife; it's the main reason he did his best to hide his tattoos. 

Tattoos screamed ‘loser’ to a majority of people, and though Westeros had become a thousand times more liberal than older folks claim it used to be when they were younger, a large portion of society was still very conservative. So, Luke thought it would be in his best interest to cover his little works of art. It worked for the most part, but sadly the ink on his knuckles broke the illusion he was attempting to conjure. 

Fuck his younger self for wanting to look like a badass and thinking hand tattoos were the best way to achieve it. It’s not like it worked, Luke would always have a face that screamed innocence. Even now that his chubby cheeks were gone and he had grown a more defined jawline, he still didn’t look as mature as he wanted to.

Maybe his cherub-like face would make the judge more lenient now that it wasn’t covered in bruises.

Earlier Luke had asked Blondie if he could put concealer on his hands to hide the ink and the boy had looked at him as though he had slapped his mother then ran over his cat with a Mack truck. According to Blondie, his makeup was too good to waste on Luke’s ‘dry ass hands’. Fucking asshole.

It’s not as though Luke hadn’t asked the blonde for lotion before, he just never let him use any.

Luke sighed when he focused on his nose. It was fully healed, and he had been able to breathe through it on his own just fine. The only problem was that it was crooked, the appendage now leaning slightly to the left. 

It was nothing drastic like Owen Wilson’s iconic train wreck of a nose, but it was noticeable enough if you looked too closely. 

Luke thought he didn’t care at first, but now whenever he caught a glimpse of his face in a reflection his nose was all he could focus on. He was starting to become more self-conscious than he normally was.

A loud thump came from the outside of the changing room.

“Luke, it’s Cecil. Let me in.”

Luke gave himself one last look in the mirror before moving to open the door.

“Hey man, can you help me with this?” Cecil asked, he was holding up a pink and red striped tie. He looked more scared than Luke had ever seen him before, he didn’t even look this spooked when nurse Tywin barged in their room and threatened to send him to solitary if he didn’t admit to giving crazy ass Ron a stick and poke tattoo which had become infected.

The boy looked like he was about to piss his pants as he swore up and down, he didn’t do any such thing. He was lying through his teeth of course, Luke was the one that guarded the common room door for Cecil while he did it, but Tywin didn’t need to know that.

“Sure, come in.” Luke agreed, ushering his roommate in the small room. Luke didn’t exactly know how to tie a tie of any kind, he just sort of fiddled around with his own until it magically tied itself. Hopefully he could do the same for Cecil. If not, then oh well.

Cecil hurried in, slamming the door behind him. Luke could see he was shaking like crazy as he muttered something under his breath.

Luke grabbed his hands and pulled the boy closer to him “Calm down, I know you’re nervous but walking around like you belong in the psychiatric ward isn’t going to make the situation turn out any different.” Luke said as he tried his best to get Cecil to relax, he was starting to freak him out.

“I know but I can’t help it. My granny’s gonna be there and if that judge doesn't let me go home she’s gonna have a heart attack on the spot I just know it.” Cecil breathed out heavily.

Luke put his hands on his roommate's shoulders and slightly shook him, forcing the boy to look up at him. “Look at me, nothing is going to happen to your grandma because you’re walking out of that court a free man. Say it with me.” Luke encouraged; he knew he had to spark some of Cecil’s usual fire back into him. He couldn’t have the guy walking around as if he had already been sentenced.

When Cecil didn’t say anything, Luke shook him again. “Say it, say you’re going to be a free man.”

He nodded his head and took a deep breath. “I’m gonna be a free man.”

“Say it again.” Luke Ordered, putting more vigor in his voice.

“I’m gonna be a free man.” Cecil said more confidently, almost shouting. His trembling had ceased, and he was looking at Luke like he was ready to take on anything. 

He smirked. “Speak it into existence, you understand?”

Cecil grinned wide and toothy like the Cheshire cat. “Definitely”

Luke then began his attempt at tying Cecil’s tie. The boy looked at Luke with raised eyebrows when he didn’t tie it professionally like he assumed he would, instead repeatedly looping and unlooping his way through the process.

Luke ignored the weird looks and continued until he finally tied it properly. He stuck his tongue out childishly at Cecil when he looked in the mirror with a shocked face as if he was surprised Luke’s messy method had worked in his favor.

Luke stood next to Cecil and looked in the mirror alongside him. Cecil adjusted his shirt and tie, looking at himself as if he belonged on the cover of a magazine. “Fuck, we look good, don’t we?”

Luke laughed and playfully ran his fingers through his hair. “Damn right we do.” 

The door opened behind them revealing an officer. “Time’s up, come on.”

Luke and Cecil looked at one another, remembering the promise they made to each other.

No matter what happened they were sticking together.

The fourth ward was quieter than it normally was, missing all of the usual rowdy-ness from the inmates and background grunts of frustration from Tywin. The atmosphere seemed empty; it made Luke feel uneasy. Everything felt and looked so much grayer, as if everyone’s emotions were showing through the environment.

The duo stopped at the exit when they saw Simone and Blondie standing in front of the door, waiting. Simone had tears in his eyes and was playing with his fingers to distract himself. Blondie on the other hand had his arms crossed, face marred with annoyance.

As soon as Simone saw them, he jumped into Cecil’s arms and began sobbing loudly, begging the older boy to not leave him, screaming out that he didn’t care that it was a selfish request. The scene reminded Luke that the younger boy was only thirteen, a fact he often forgot due to Simone being the voice of reason among the group.

Cecil cooed and rubbed his friends back.

Luke looked away from the scene unraveling in front of him, it was an incredibly intimate moment they were sharing and he felt like an intruder. He figured the officer also shared Luke’s sentiments when he looked the other way as well, allowing Cecil to comfort his friend without rushing him to get going.     

Luke turned his attention to Blondie, at first glance you would think he couldn’t care less about what was happening around him, but Luke knew better.

From the way his eyes remained glued to the ground, to the soft tapping of his foot, Luke could tell his roommate was seconds away from a meltdown. He walked over to the blonde and wrapped his arms around him. Blondie didn’t hug him back nor did he speak, but he didn’t need to.

“I’ll miss you.” Luke whispered in his ear. He let go and stepped back, the blonde still didn’t meet his eyes, continuing to look down.

Luke went to Simone who was now holding onto Cecil’s hand and gave the boy a hug from behind. “I’ll write, ok?”

Simone let go of Cecil’s hand to grab his. “Please.”

Lude smiled and kissed Simone’s forehead gently. The boy had become like a little brother to Luke, having to leave him was doing things to his heart that he couldn’t describe. He felt like he was being stabbed in the chest.

“Ok, i’ve let you say your goodbyes, but we don’t have all day, let's move.” The officer barked, but there was no bite behind it.

With one last squeeze Luke let go of Simone and followed the officer with Cecil trailing behind them seconds later, but not before he patted Blondie on the shoulder and whispered something quietly into his ear.

Luke nor Cecil would ever know that as soon as the door slammed shut behind them, Blondie broke down into a fit of tears.

January 14th, 2023, 12:07pm. On route to Dorne federal courthouse.

Luke is told Alicent wouldn’t be allowed to drive him to the courthouse this time, instead he would be driven by a police officer with Cecil. Though Luke wanted to take another ride in Alicent’s Range Rover he was happy that he would be sticking beside the pink haired boy. His roommate was Luke’s only peace of mind at the moment.

Luke chuckled to himself, describing Cecil as his peace of mind was not on his 2023 bingo card. Life is full of surprises though, right? The last month and a half of his life was hard core proof of that.

“How are you feeling?” Cecil asked as they were driven to the courthouse.

Luke shrugged his shoulders. “Truthfully? I have no clue.” Luke’s mind and emotions were mixed up all over the place, he didn’t know which way was up and which way was down, let alone figure out how he felt.

His new foster parents were rich as fuck if the way they presented themselves was any indication. That fur coat Rhaenyra wore felt like the real deal, or at least what Luke assumed the real deal supposedly felt like. They were also close friends with Alicent who was definitely having no trouble in the money department.

The promise that if he’s let out into the couple's custody, he’ll be taken well care of financially was a relief. No more empty refrigerators and moldy bathrooms for him thank the God’s.

Besides that, everything about the couple made Luke nervous. They were nice people, he guessed. 

Rhaenyra came off like a kind woman, her voice was soft, and her smile was even softer. She spoke gently and was obviously the touchy feely type, something he hoped wouldn’t apply to him once she got to know better. Had she been a man her desire to touch him would have been a lot more alarming.

He would die if he was forced into another one of those homes.

Her husband Daemon was her complete opposite, a bit rough around the edges and more confident about how their meeting would turn out. It's not as though he came off like a bad person, but more or so that he clearly could do some real damage if he really wanted to.

If life taught Luke anything, it’s that men like that are a bright red flag, so Luke would do his best to stay on the man’s good side.

However, Daemon was pretty insistent in stating he thought Sydney was a piece of shit so maybe his red flag wasn’t so bright. 

Or maybe not, people lied about how they felt all the time.

Only time will tell.

January 14th, 2023, 12:40pm. Dorne federal courthouse.

Once he and Cecil stepped out of the car, they were ambushed by court officers and immediately shackled. While Cecil was only cuffed by his wrists, Luke had received them around his ankles as well. 

“Hey, what the fuck are these for?” Cecil shouted at the officer, lifting up his restrained hands.

The court officer groaned; it was a deep groan of pure annoyance. One most people made during an interaction with Cecil. “You’re being charged with criminal offenses; therefore, you’re not allowed to go roaming free without restraints. Do you understand or should I spell it out for you?”

What a fucking dick.

Before Cecil could open his mouth and give officer fuck face a reason to hurt him, which by looking at his rigid stance he could tell he wouldn’t think twice about doing so, Luke spoke up. “We understand just fine, thank you.” 

The man chuckled and gestured for the other officers to bring them inside. However, unexpectedly, while Cecil was taken right by two officers, Luke was brought to the left by the remaining bunch.

Cecil nodded at him before leaving his view, reaffirming their promise to stick beside one another regardless of the outcome. 

The courthouse was running wild today, a starch difference from the calm atmosphere the first time he was there. Every corner of the room was crowded by suited lawyers, police officers, other inmates in handcuffs and even he caught a glimpse of a few people in long black robes and powdered wigs, most likely judges.

Luke always thought the outfits they wore were over the top, he understood the usage of robes, but the white wigs were unnecessary. This wasn’t old Westeros anymore; they should drop the medieval shit.

“Luke, darling.” He heard out of nowhere.

Luke looked around until he spotted Alicent with a smile on her face as per usual. She was wearing a light pink pants suit and her hair was slicked back into a side bun. She ran over to Luke and gave him a warm hug, when she pulled back and noticed he was in shackles her face morphed into a look of controlled irritation. “Would any of you fine gentlemen be willing to tell me why my client is in shackles?” She asked, her lips were pulled together tightly, and her head tilted slightly to the side. It was obvious she wasn’t amused by what she was seeing.

The fat officer to his right side scoffed. “He’s being accused of attempted murder ma’am. Be happy we didn’t put a muzzle on him like we should’ve.”

Luke rolled his eyes; he could say the same for him. Everyone’s ears would benefit a great deal from not being subjected to the officer's voice. The man sounded like there was a glob of mucus stuck in the back of his throat that he refused to cough up.

“What is this I hear about muzzles? Because last time I checked, that was outlawed around twenty years ago. Isn’t that right?” A deep voice said from behind the officer.

Luke turned to see Harwin, looking just about as pleased as Alicent did. 

Harwin was about six inches taller than the officer and without a doubt could fold him in half if he really wanted to, if the policeman had any sense, he wouldn’t try to act smart in his current predicament.

The man remained silent which earned a noise of satisfaction from Alicent. “Anyway, it’s almost time for court to begin, so I must take my client to prepare.” She wrapped her arm around Luke’s and gently pulled him away from the officers with fiery eyes.

“Harwin, would you be a dear and let Director Matthew know about these men’s deplorable comments? I don’t think he would appreciate such behavior from officers of the court.” She said with a false look of worry.

Harwin’s face however remained as unmoving as stone. “It would be my pleasure.” He grunted.

Alicent kept a firm yet gentle hold on Luke as she led him to the courtroom. “There’s been some change in plans regarding the judge.” She said hastily, Luke felt his heartbeat speed up at the woman’s words. What did she mean by a change in plans? 

She continued. “Judge Stone has decided that it would be in everyone’s best interest that he hand the case off to a good friend of his. His name is Judge Viserys Tarth and he often deals with cases such as yours.”

“A new judge? Is that even possible?” Luke stuttered.

“Yes, if a judge thinks he isn’t suited to proceed with his assigned case or has a bias in said case, it is common to hand it off to another Judge they know and trust. It's done all the time, there’s nothing to worry about.” She promises.

“Is he a dick?” He asked quietly as Alicent guided him into the back room.

Alicent smiled as she put her hands on his cheeks. “A little, but not in the way you’d think.” She said, continuing to hold eye contact with him, as if giving words of encouragement through her mind. 

She patted his cheeks and let her hands fall to his tie as she began to unravel it. “I remember my oldest son’s first job interview; he was an emotional wreck the day of. Running around the house like a chicken with its head cut off trying to make sure he was prepared. Right before he left, I stopped him to say goodbye but saw his tie was all over the place, and as his mother it was my job to fix it.” She said lovingly as she started to re-loop the fabric

“Two hours after he left, he called me and screamed into the phone that he got the job. I was so proud.” Luke felt his eyes start to water as she patted his chest. “Not to toot my own horn, but I’m pretty sure it was my mother’s love I put into fixing his tie that landed him the job.”

She wiped the single tear that slid down Luke’s cheek. “Now, I'm putting that love into you.”

Luke felt his lips wobble as his heart clenched in his chest, finding himself unable to respond to the woman. 

“Now enter Luke Rivers and his attorney Alicent Tully.” They heard the court announcer announce.

She took hold of his arm once more as they made their way into the court. 

The room was silent, not counting the typing of the court reporters and clacking of Alicent’s heels. The courtroom was more crowded than Luke thought it would be. There were two police officers guarding the closed doors and one in front of the judge’s bench with his hands on his weapon ready to put an end to any trouble that may occur.

Rhaenyra and Daemon were seated at the juror’s bench. Rhaenyra gave Luke a small smile of encouragement as he made his way across the room, while Daemon held his usual smirk, but Luke could tell there was more to it than teasing. Beside them was a guy who Luke guessed was around nineteen, he had short brown hair and a sharp jawline, Interest sparkled in his eyes as he looked at Luke but didn't keep his attention on him for too long, turning his gaze down to his lap in what seemed to be nervousness.

Finally, next to him was another boy, probably a freshman. His hair fell down to his shoulders in ringlets of dark brown curls, he had a baby face, but Luke could sense there was something sinister hiding behind those big doe eyes. The kid had a violent aura.

He grinned at Luke once he caught his gaze, slightly lifting up his hand to wave before turning back to the older boy next to him.

Those can’t be Rhaenyra and Daemon’s son’s. They look way too old.

Were they Alicent’s? They sort of favor her when he squints his eyes.

Luke turned his focus towards the Judge. He was an older man, likely in his early sixties, he had gray stubble on his chin and wore a big poofy white wig with tight curls and blue ribbon holding two ponytails together at the side.

The shoulders of his robe had blue and gold swirls making up the shape of the sun and moon, likely in honor of his house.

The man looked at him intensely, but Luke couldn’t get a gauge of what he was thinking. His face was completely neutral, much to his frustration. God’s, was it so hard to at least give him a taste of a reaction?

Once Luke and Alicent were at their place the court announcer spoke up again.

“Now enter, Sydney Winston and his Lawyer Lionel Green.” 

Entering out of the main door came a short, bald man with thick glasses. He walked into the courtroom slowly, taking his precious time as if they had all day to be there. Behind him entered Sydney.

In a wheelchair…

The man had clearly lost a worrying amount of weight, he was half the size Luke remembers him being. His skin was blotchy and pink, almost as if it was irritated from sunburn and he had also grown a full beard.

His eye was covered with a sort of bandage, Luke flinched at the memory of what he did to the man’s eye.

As he struggles to get up off the ground Sydney grabs his ankle with his good hand pulling Luke back down towards him. Luke falls belly first with no choice but to let himself be dragged. Sydney keeps a tight hold on his ankle refusing to let go, he’s on his stomach now as well.

Luke turns over as much as possible and lifts his free foot using it to kick Sydney in his eye until he lets go. He cringes as he feels the heel of his shoe sink into something soft and mushy. Sydney shrieks like a banshee “My eye, my fucking eye, I'll kill you bitch.”

The heel of Luke’s boot is a bloodied mess. 

Luke felt his heart drop down to his stomach as he began to breathe heavier, Alicent noticed his reaction and held onto his cuffed hands and whispered in his ear to not pay Sydney any attention, reminding him he didn’t have to look at anyone but the Judge.

Once everyone was at their assigned place the court hearer took a sip of water and began. “The defendant Luke Rivers, aged seventeen is being charged with one count of underage drinking, theft of private property and assault with a deadly weapon with intent to maim. In addition to these charges, he is also being charged with one count of attempted murder in the third degree.”

The judge nodded slowly. “How do you plead, Mr. Rivers?”

Luke cleared his throat and straightened his back. “Not guilty.”

Alicent kicked his leg with her heel.

Luke blushed. “Your honor. Not guilty, your honor.” He stuttered in embarrassment, fuck, he only had one job and he somehow found a way to screw it up. He just needs to jump off a cliff at this point.

He could see Daemon’s shoulders moving in silent laughter out of the corner of his eye and Rhaenyra flicked his ear.

The judge nodded. “And how do you respond, Mr. Green?” 

“Your honor, I request the defendant be sent back to Hell Hot Juvenile Facility where he should spend the rest of time until trial begins.” The lawyer announces with a tilt of his head.

“What is your reasoning?”

“Luke Rivers is a dangerous individual who made an attempt on my client’s life, potentially paralyzed him for no reason other than selfishness,” Sydney’s lawyer argued.

“Selfishness?” Alicent huffed. “Sydney Winston viscously attacked a teenager who is almost a foot shorter than him and weighs no more than 120 pounds while at the time Mr. Winston was around 270. Sydney Winston brutally attacked my client first by slapping him and proceeding to spit vile insults at him.”

“Luke Rivers broke the agreement of a previous plea deal by stealing alcohol from my client, and when he was caught decided to beat him so he wouldn’t be able to tell his caseworker, which would have made his previous legal deal null and void.” Lionel argued, his fist was clenched on the podium and his words were spit out like acid. Luke was becoming more anxious by the minute.

Alicent’s face became red in anger, yet she didn’t let it show through her words, remaining calm but forceful. “Lies, as soon as my client entered the plaintiff’s home he was met with an assault on his person. Mr Winston did his best to provoke his foster son into attacking him back by saying vile, horrid things. When he didn’t receive the reaction he was aiming for he chose to try and beat it out of my client instead.”

Sydney’s lawyer tried to speak but Alicent didn’t allow him the opportunity. “Luke Rivers was defending himself from a violent man who would’ve killed him had he not worked up the courage to fight back.”

“My client may be paralyzed from the waist down for the rest of his life. He has lost all sight in his right eye from a wound infection, a wound that Luke River’s gave him.”

Alicent clicked her tongue. “And my client was in a medically induced coma for almost half a week to jumpstart his healing from a brain hemorrhage. Mr. Winston's attack was so brutal that one of the blood vessels in Mr. Rivers Parietal Lobe brusted. Had the signs not been noticed in time by one of the paramedics on the scene he would’ve potentially lost most of his cognitive functions or even died.”

Luke was so overwhelmed by everything going on around him he had to lean onto the podium so he wouldn’t fall over. His mouth was dry and he could feel as all the blood in his body rushed to his head. He saw Rhaenyra and Daemon as well as the boys in the stand look around in worry when they noticed his discomfort.

“Mr. Rivers has shown no remorse for his actions.” Lionel said in anger, even in his distressed state Luke could tell he was desperate for something to stick.

Luke may be hearing things but he’s sure he just heard the word ‘cunt’ from a younger voice in the stands.

Alicent held back a chuckle at her rival’s argument. “Also untrue, though one is not required to show guilt for protecting themselves in the face of danger, my client has. Luke Rivers called emergency services for his foster father. There is an audio recording of the call which I have here today and am able to play if your honor so wishes. During the call in question, he was in distress and near tears asking for help. When the police and paramedics arrived they noted that my client had wrapped Mr. Winston's head in his own shirt to stop any bleeding and had his fingers on his pulse point to make sure he didn’t stop breathing.”

Alicent turned to look at Lionel. “Are these the actions of a cold blooded murderer to you?”

“Luke Rivers has been tossed from home to home throughout his life due to numerous complaints of devious behavior. He is a stain on society and most people would classify him as a waste of space!”

“How dare you-” Alicent seethed.

“Enough!” The judge shouted, silencing both Alicent and Lionel. “I’ve heard everything I need to hear-”

“Your honor, may I present one more reason as to why the plaintiff should be sent back to Juvenile immediately?”

Judge Tarth raised an eyebrow. “No, you may not.”

Lionel went red in the face. “Your honor-”

The judge slammed his gavel down in anger at the man. “Are you deaf Mr. Green? I said that I’ve heard everything I need to hear.” He turned his attention to Luke. “Straighten yourself up young man.”

Luke gulped and did as he was told, not in the mood to get on the man’s bad side like a certain someone. “Yes, your honor?”

“This man has called you a stain on society and a waste of space. Do you believe those words to be true?”

Luke blinked, he let his mind roam back through his short life from his first memory all the way to the present. He had made many mistakes, ones he had the chance to make up for and others not so much. His life has been a rough one, filled with pain at nearly every corner. Sometimes he wonders if life is worth living if all that comes with it is pain. There were good moment’s, no doubt about it. But the bad heavily outweighed them.

What made a person a stain on society? Doing drugs?

Owen ran his fingers down his stomach until he reached the inside of his thigh, with his thumb he rubbed a spot on his skin as he told him to keep still. Suddenly Luke felt a sharp pinch, but as the fluid flooded into his vein the pain melted away and was replaced by burning hot pleasure.

His head felt like cotton and he could barely keep his eyes open, he felt small tingles travel all throughout his body. He felt like he was in heaven.

Owen returned from between his thighs and whispered in ears “You like that huh?” Luke nodded and softly whimpered. “Yes.”

Selling your body?

“Fucking hell.” Luke muttered under his breath as he felt the man behind him rut into his body with no remorse as he breathed heavily into his neck. The man was sweaty and smelled of moldy shoes, his breath was even worse. He could tell he didn’t brush his teeth very often, if at all.

The john's hands ran up Luke’s torso to roughly play with nipples, he felt like he was going to vomit from the touch as the stranger pinched the sensitive buds. “How does this feel?” He growled.

Luke didn’t respond, lowering his head and shutting his eyes tight as he tried to pretend to be anywhere but here.

“Tell the man how it feels, baby.” Owen said gently from across the room.

Luke opened his eyes and looked into the dark eyes of the man he loved. “It feels good.” He moaned, trying his best to make his pain sound like pleasure. This only egged the man further on as he started thrusting harder.

When will it be over?

“I don’t know, your honor.” Luke said as he swallowed roughly, knowing he didn’t have it in him to lie.

He avoided Alicent’s gaze, he already knew what his words had done to her. He only hoped she didn’t feel too saddened by them. 

Judge Tarth frowned and nodded, accepting his answer. “I, Judge Viserys Tarth, am releasing the defendant Luke Rivers into the custody of Rhaenyra and Daemon Lannister until the trial is to take place.”

Luke didn’t have the time to digest what had been said before he was pulled into a hug by Alicent. Her arms squeezed him as she planted fat kisses on his forehead and swayed them back and forth.

“I told you to believe in me.” She cried.

At the same time he could hear Sydney’s lawyer bark out complaints about bias as he demanded a new hearing with a different judge.

“You lost, get over it you sniffling mutt.” Daemon growled out with a smirk as he and the rest of his family got up from their seats to greet Luke.

The judge ignored the man’s demands and continued. “During this time he will be living with his foster parents in King’s Landing where he will be on a court mandated house arrest for the next five months.”

An officer came up to Luke and began to unlock his shackles.

“During this time Mr. Rivers will also be attending bi-weekly therapy as well as enrolling in online virtual schooling until said house arrest is over. Everything else is private information and will be given directly to Mr. Rivers' attorney, Alicent Tully, as well as his foster parents.” Judge Tarth said as he gestured to Alicent who nodded her head in return.

“All is dismissed.” He banged his gavel for the second time, dismissing everyone.

Luke rested his head against Alicent’s chest as she continued to hold him close. He saw his new foster family approach him with wide smiles and shining eyes.

Rhaenyra was the first one to reach him with the brunette boy hot on her trail. “Hello, how are you feeling?” She asked hopefully. Luke raised his head, Daemon was now behind his wife, stroking her side lovingly while the boys beside them looked at Luke with excitement. 

why? Luke couldn’t figure out for the life of him. But it felt so good that he didn’t care to ponder on the reason. Luke let all the tension that had built up in his bones melt away. For now he was a free man. 

Or, semi-free, if you want to get technical.

“Fucking amazing.” He sighed, earning a look of shock from the older brunette boy and a loud laugh from Daemon who held his hand out.

“Welcome to the family kid.”

Chapter Text

Alicent died in the darkness. Alone in her quarters surrounded by the ghosts of her past failures, and afraid of the color green. The very color she once proudly draped herself as well as her beloved children in.

She had gone mad by that point. At every turn she saw one of her children.

Helaena, her darling girl. The child she failed the most, appeared the least. Alicent could not see her clearly due to the darkness shrouding her figure, but she could make out various stab wounds on her stomach from the day she jumped onto the spikes awaiting her from Maegor’s holdfast

She sat in the darkest corner of Alicent’s rooms’ in a fluffy white chair, much like the one she had as a small child. She would have an embroidery hoop and needle in hand, stabbing her delicate fingers as she wept for Jaehaerys and Maelor to return to her.

Alicent would call out to her, beg and plead for her darling girl to forgive her. She did wrong by her for not doing more to help her in her depressed state, for forcing her to marry Aegon and bear children so young, subjecting her to the cruel fate she herself was forced into. Perhaps she could’ve found Helaena a love match had she focused more on her daughter’s wellbeing than giving into fear. Perhaps she wouldn’t have flinched at her own mother’s touch.

But it was too late now. Her pleas went unanswered and unheard. 

Alicent laid on the cold hard floor of her prison with nothing to illuminate her view but a small candle that was but a whisper away from burning out and smiled to herself. Helaena adored the color pink. She only accepted dolls and stuffed animals that were pink, only allowed her ladies in waiting to braid her hair with pink ribbons and wore pink dresses and nightgowns almost daily. 

That was before Alicent betrothed her to Aegon and began to force her into green garments.

Aemond, her perfect boy, her dutiful son came to her more often than his sister.

The last time Alicent saw him before his death he held her close, kissing her forehead as he promised to soon return to her and bring her to safety.

The day he mysteriously appeared in her heavily guarded chambers with blood flowing from his dead eye, groaning out in pained words she couldn’t understand, she broke down into a fit of anger and sorrow. She attempted to take her own life by bashing her head against the brick wall of the entrence door.

The guards had to sedate her with heavy amounts of milk of the poppy until she calmed down.

When Aemond came to Alicent he would always stand directly in front of her no matter where in the room she was. He would talk but she couldn't make out anything he was trying to tell her, his words coming out gurgled and slurred as if he was holding water in his mouth.

All she could do was sob. Her wails of mourning flowed through the guarded door of her chambers, haunting the dark halls.

When Alicent really thought about it, she realized there was nothing her poor boy ever expressed interest in during his younger years besides gaining a dragon. And by the time after he had accomplished that dream, he had been consumed by rage. Her heart shattered once more. 

Aegon, her eldest love who she focused all of her pain and resentment onto is who she saw the most.

He would sit at the window seat looking down at the mess the outside world had become. Half of his body was burnt, raw, and bleeding from dragon fire. Legs twisted in such an inhumane way that it made her sick to see. But Alicent forced herself to look anyway, the war she helped her father start was the reason he ended up like this, the least she could do was gaze upon her work.

Aegon would wail out in pain, confessing to her that he did the best he could, asking if he had finally made her proud for trying his hardest to rule. All Alicent could do was cry alongside her first babe and profess her love, apologize for forcing him into a position he never wanted and shaming him for drowning his pain in wine when in reality it was the only escape he had. 

Alicent allowed herself to imagine the kind of man her son would’ve turned out to be if she expressed her love for him in life as she did now in his death. 

Yet and still, her professions of love weren’t heard.

She chuckled to herself, dry and painful from her refusal to drink water as memories of Aegon’s younger years came to mind. As a boy he spent his days playing with small soldier figurines, pretending to send them into battle. Would he have become a knight had she allowed him to follow his own destiny?

She would never know now.

Alicent died shortly after, hot from fever with words of forgiveness cool on her tongue. Alone.

She thought of Jaehaera, her last living grandchild, the only surviving member of her family. Alicent was sick with what the guards were calling Winter fever, she knew that she would soon succumb to the stranger and her sweet shy girl would truly be alone. The only thing that brought Alicent comfort was her betrothal to Aegon iii.

Aegon iii or ‘egg’ from what she heard the servant girl’s call him in passing, was a quiet boy with sad eyes. He never spoke when he was brought to Alicent’s chambers alongside Jaehaera for visits, choosing to sit in the corner furthest away from her and silently weep into his hands.

She wanted to hate him, Seven knows she did. In a passing moment of anger, she attempted to convince Jaehaera to slit the boy’s throat while he slept. Taking the young girl's shoulders in her hands and shaking her in hopes she would agree, an act Alicent desperately regretted once she came back to herself.

She wanted to hate Aegon, but she couldn’t. Not when he was just as pure as her little Jaehaera. He was only ten name days, a harmless little boy whose only sin was being his mother’s last living child.

There were rare moments when Alicent would hear him calling out for Rhaenyra.

Her stomach churned and her eyes would burn with salty tears as she was forced to hear that innocent little boy cry for his fallen brother’s, the sister’s he wasn’t allowed to have contact with and most of all his mother.

The woman who Alicent confided in once upon a time. Her first love.

She caused this. She was the reason he was alone with no one to wipe his tears away.

Oftentimes, Alicent would feel the urge to wipe his tears away herself, but she knew better. The boy would probably try to bite her fingers off, not that she would blame him for doing so.

Maybe, just maybe, he and Jaeharea could find happiness together after her death.

Alicent was sweating profusely but felt as cold as a crow in the north, no matter how many blankets she bundled under. Her eyelids had become so heavy that keeping them open felt like a chore. Her muscles were slowly but surely becoming more relaxed, she could hardly find the strength to move.

Forgive me, my precious grandbabe.

Alicent’s eyes close for the final time. She let the darkness take her without fuss, for she was tired of fighting, she had nothing left in her to fight with. She knew the stranger wouldn’t be kind to her, her willingness to ignore the scheming vipers around her and her childish nativity when it came to her father’s ambition-filled lies as well as her own hatred for the little freedom Rhaenyra was granted plummeted the realm into war. 

She would burn. This she knew for certain.

The world before her went black. 

June 24th, 1985, Hornwood North hospital. 

“You can do it, don’t give up just yet mama, I know you have it in you.” The bedside nurse encouraged as she wiped the woman’s forehead with a damp towel. This was the longest labor she’s ever witnessed, 72 hours in total. Why Doctor Greyjoy didn’t opt for a cesarean section after the first 48 hours passed was a mystery to her.

The woman’s pained scream tore through everyone’s ears. It was a distinct wail that anyone who has ever had a child could recognize from anywhere, the fearful pain filled shrill of giving birth.

The pregnant woman groaned as she shook her head in grief, she didn’t want to do this, she couldn’t take it anymore. This baby was going to rip her in half, she just knew it. 

Another contraction tore through her back and lower body. She felt a ripping sensation shoot from the front of her pelvis all the way to her buttocks; the second nurses' gleeful gasp confirmed that whatever just happened down there was a good sign.

“I see the head! one more push, Miss Tully, they're almost out.” Doctor Greyjoy shouted, doing her best to comfort her young patient. 

A wet squelching noise echoed through the room which was soon followed up by the shriek of new life. When Doctor Greyjoy caught the child and held them in her arms the assignment nurse ran over to the man on the other side of the room and offered him the scissors to cut the umbilical cord. Unsurprisingly he waved her off in refusal.

The nurse sighed sadly and went back to cut the cord herself. She then took the infant into her arms and began to wipe down and bundle the new addition to the world as she softly cooed. Once she had the baby swaddled in the softest pink blanket the hospital had to offer, she handed the little thing to their mother.  

“Congratulations Miss Tully, she’s a girl.”

The woman hesitantly reached out her arms as her hospital gown was opened by grabby fingers revealing her chest. She nearly cursed at the nurse for doing so without her permission. 

she didn’t want to hold the screaming child at all let alone do skin to skin contact with it as she was being encouraged, very aggressively might she add.

The baby opened her eyes, there were lights shining down as bright as the sun, nearly blinding her delicate senses. Once the newborn’s vision focused, she was met with the sight of a short haired woman with a face covered in bruises and scabs looking down on her, face contorting with a rollercoaster of emotions. 

The staff left to give the new mother and baby some bonding time, promising to come back and give the child a proper bath and checkup in ten minutes.

“What will you name her?” The man on the opposite side of the room asked. He had been standing at the hospital window facing away from the woman since her contractions first began, not caring to look upon the messy scene let alone be involved. He sounded uninterested, bored at the situation taking place in front of him. 

“Alicent, Alicent Tully.” The woman said, her voice was beaten down and broken. She sounded as if she had been through war, in a way she had.

“Aw, you aren’t going to give her my last name? You wound me.” The man said sarcastically. He wanted to laugh, the slight amusement in his tone made it perfectly clear.

The woman didn’t reply, instead continuing to look down at her daughter with glass eyes.

Alicent’s cries didn’t stop, continuing all through the night into the next morning no matter what anyone tried to do. Why the infant wouldn’t stop weeping was a mystery to everyone.

At merely eight years old, Alicent Tully had been labeled a prodigy by those around her.

She said her first word at 6 months old, much to the shock of her mother and grandfather. She began to walk when she was only a year old, almost giving her grandfather a heart attack when he saw her stand up and shakily walk across the living room from the couch all the way to the tv in order to pick up the bottle she had flung away in a fit a few minutes prior.

Alicent mastered the entire alphabet and could recall numerous advanced aged fairytale books from beginning, middle to end before she turned three and at only four, she had already learned how to multiply and divide simple equations.

People in the small, snow-covered town called Alicent a genius, constantly trying to pressure her mother Anya into sending Alicent into a gifted program so she could grow and learn among other children that were on her wavelength. 

But, unbeknownst to everyone else Alicent knew she wasn’t gifted, at least not in the normal sense of the word. This just happened to be her second time living, she was only repeating what she already knew.

When Alicent was four years old she relayed to Anya with a melancholy face, that she wasn’t her actual mother and that her real mother died a long time ago in the birthing bed. 

Anya looked as though was going to faint at her daughter's confession.

Alicent hadn’t understood what about her words made Anya so upset, she was just telling her the truth as she knew it. Anya may be her mother in this life, but she wasn’t the mother she loved and cherished, that title will always belong to Celine Hightower. 

Celine taught Alicent how to sew, bake sweet treats, and wiped her tears when her father was too harsh on her. She’ll always be Alicent’s mother in her eyes.

When Alicent was five she began to have a repeated night terror which had her screaming and kicking in her sleep at people who weren’t there whilst she yelled out the phrases ‘stolen his eye’ and ‘there is a debt’. 

Those dreams lasted an entire year, no matter what Anya tried to do to remedy them they continued. The stressed-out mother tried every old school trick in the book, giving Alicent warm milk before bed, letting her watch more cartoons, and opening her daughter's windows at night so the cool night air could relax her.

In a fit of desperation Anya visited the town's local alleged witch doctor who gave her herbs called ‘dream root’ that she told Anya would give her daughter sweet dreams if eaten in her dinner before bedtime.

None of it worked.

Anya decided to ask her daughter what the dreams were about after a particularly rough night, and when the young girl told her that she was reliving the night her son's eye was stolen, she slapped her out of anger.

In spite of her mother’s harsh treatment Alicent didn’t back down. Insisting that she was speaking the truth. It came to the point where Anya had banned Alicent from attending sleepovers with the girls from her ballet class out of fear she would scare the other children with her tales and their moms would spread rumors. 

When Anya told Alicent of her decision the girl ran to her room and cried her eyes out. After an hour of nonstop crying Anya went to her daughter’s room and held her ear to the bedroom door, that's when she heard the name ‘Aemond’ in the girl's sobs.

Anya had immediately barged in and demanded Alicent tell her who Aemond was.

“Who is that, is he a boy? What has this boy been whispering into your ears? How old is he?” Anya yelled as she held down her struggling daughter.

“Anya, what are you doing? Stop before you hurt her!” Anya’s father yelled in terror once he walked onto the scene after hearing a commotion.

The next day after Anya had taken some time to calm down and collect herself, she went back to Alicent and politely asked for the truth of the matter, making sure to come off as gentle as possible. Alicent told her mother that couldn’t tell her the entire truth because she would think there was something wrong with her. 

After some poking and prodding on Anya’s side Alicent sat her mom down on her Princess Belle themed bed sheets and told her everything she knew about her former life.

Her assumptions that Anya would think she was crazy proved right.

Anya had become weary of Alicent after that day, letting her out of the house less and less, no longer allowing her to watch television or movies of any kind, pulling her out of ballet class and even refusing to sign her up for elementary school once the time came, telling her father she would homeschool her instead. 

Alicent’s tales of her supposed past life were grueling and terrifying. Anya had become so fed up that she went to the town’s local library and searched their documents for the name Alicent Hightower. She nearly toppled over in fear when she found out that not only was this woman a real person, but that everything Alicent told her matched the story of her life perfectly.

Anya tried to tell herself that her daughter likely stumbled upon some sort of media about the dowager queen and got confused because they had the same name. 

“Sweetheart, have you gotten these tales from that show ‘the green queen”? Is that why you think you and this woman are the same person?” Anya asked with a gentle tone and demeanor, Alicent had never heard such softness from the woman before.

Alicent raised her dark bushy eyebrows and gasped. “There’s a tv show about me?”

That wasn’t the answer Anya was hoping for.

By the time Alicent was nine she could count on two hands how many times she had been allowed out of their house in a whole year.

Alicent cried constantly in the darkness of her room, begging the gods to send her to her death to be with her children. She didn’t want to be subjected to this new life any longer, she wanted to know the sweet release of death. To feel the stranger's kiss on her lips as the life left her body for the last and final time.

Her wish was never granted.

Anya started to hit Alicent every time she mentioned her past life or insisted that her true name was Alicent Hightower. 

The woman would scream at her to act like a normal child, forcing her to go to bed without food if she so much as mentioned dragons or shoveling her into the dark, damp downstairs closet if she brought up the topic of war once more.

Alicent had learned quickly to keep the talk of her past life to standstill around Anya.

By the time Alicent had turned ten she could no longer find it in herself to hold judgment against Anya for her harsh treatment; she now vividly remembers treating her own son similarly all those years ago. Slapping him when he expresses any feelings or emotions she didn’t like.

Alicent had been a horrible mother despite trying her best, the history books her grandfather snuck to her even recalled her as such. She had not been remembered as a woman who did what she thought was best for the kingdom she saw over, but as a vile woman, an evil stepmother who craved the sweet taste of power. 

It’s been two thousand years since Alicent’s death, the war ended shortly after she took her ‘final breath’ with Aegon iii taking his place on the iron throne. Alicent fell to her small knees when she read of her granddaughters alleged suicide. She was inconsolable for weeks. 

Her mother tried to beat some sense into her, nearly throttling her in the process.

Her grandfather simply hugged her as she wept into his shoulder, he was confused as to why she was so upset, his old age making him unaware of the things happening around him half of the time but didn’t question her.

The elderly man who Alicent called grandfather in this new life loved her dearly, he always brought his grandchild history books and allowed her to watch movies about famous Westeros events and people after the dance ended when Anya wasn’t around. He didn’t like going behind Anya’s back but watching his granddaughter's eyes light up while watching a movie about Daenerys Targaryen, the first woman to sit upon the iron throne, it was all worth it.

When Alicent woke from her nightmares he would hold her against his chest and hum a gentle northern tune until she relaxed in his arms.

He was her only peace.

That is, until he was taken away from her.

“Please sweetling think this through, you barely know this man. And w-what of Alicent, she trembles in terror just looking at him.” The elderly man stuttered, he had been outside of the home that had shared with his daughter and grandchild pleading with Anya to rethink her hasty decision.

Anya smoothed out the wrinkles on her forehead. She was sick and tired of arguing. “Edrick is a good man dad; he wants to take care of Alicent and I. He even offered to let her decorate her new room however she likes on his own dime. He may look a little rough around the edges but as soon as Alicent gets over his looks and sees him for who he is everything will be fine...” 

Anya sighed at her father’s silence as she wiped at her eyes. “This is what’s best, Alicent will realize that soon enough” Her voice was beginning to crack. She looked away; Anya knew she would cry if she kept looking at her father.

“Sweetling-”

Anya held her hand up. “No more dad, Alicent is almost a teenager and I just turned thirty. We need a man in our lives.”

The teary eyed elder wiped at his tears. “ I’m the man in your lives. I provide for and protect the both of you.”

“That’s not the same and you know it.”

The man put his hand to his fast-beating heart as he turned to look at his sweet granddaughter. She was standing at the front doorstep with her arms wrapped around herself, it would be obvious even to a blind man that she was terrified of her mother’s new boyfriend.

He was too.

“I don’t trust him.” He snapped, clenching his shaking fists. She couldn’t do this; she couldn’t just take his granddaughter and move across the entire country. He wouldn’t be able to protect them in Storm's End, what if something happened to them?

The woman huffed. She reached out to hug her father for the last time but was denied. Anya shrugged and walked away as she called for Alicent to get in Lionel’s car. 

Anya’s new boyfriend was a man by the name of Edrick waters. He was tall, muscular, had bad teeth and putrid smelling breath.

Edrick was a rude man, always arguing with others no matter the reason. You could say the sky was blue and he would somehow come up with a reason as to why it was actually green. He always thought he was the most intelligent person in the room. 

When Anya asked Alicent to spend some time with Edrick while she made a stop at the corner store, he saw her history books stacked on the coffee table and decided to spark up a conversation about history.

He grabbed the book on the very bottom of the stack which retold the events of the two year civil war the measters had named the dance of the dragons, a mistake on Edrick’s part considering that Alicent had lived through everything in that book. 

It was safe to say she knew more on the subject than he did.

When Alicent corrected Edrick every time he made an inaccurate or downright untrue statement about the war or the people involved in it, his face got more red. By the time Anya had come back from the store her boyfriend was shouting at Alicent, calling her a know it all whore.

Unsurprisingly, Anya reprimanded her daughter for making Edrick upset.

Alicent cried, not even Otto had been that cruel. 

She wanted to kick and scream until Anya let her stay in the north with her grandfather. Alicent had never known such kind touch until she met him, she didn’t want to leave, not now or ever.

Anya huffed in annoyance at her daughter's rebellion. “Alicent, do as I say before I get upset.” She was now holding the backseat door open waiting for her to get in.

Alicent sniffled and walked slowly down the steps. She kept her eyes down, refusing to look at her mother. Once she was in, Anya slammed the door shut and got in the passenger side seat. Edrick kissed her hand and told everyone to buckle their seatbelts.

As they drove off Alicent looked back at her grandfather, watching his figure become smaller and smaller until he faded into the distance like a ghost.

After a torturous week-long drive, not including stops, the makeshift family arrived in Storm’s End. The apartment building they would now be living in was clearly beaten down, the paint was chipping off the walls, there were multiple broken windows, and there were multiple people sleeping outside the building doors.

“Home sweet home everyone!” Edrick shouted cheerfully as he opened the door, Anya forced herself to smile as she cheered alongside him and turned to Alicent in the backseat. “Don’t mess this up for us.” She said sternly, motioning for her daughter to gather her belongings and get out.

Alicent sucked her teeth, she couldn’t understand what Anya was thinking. The town they’re in was horrible, people were aimlessly wandering around like the undead, police sirens could be heard coming from every corner, and there wasn’t a single proper grocery store within literal miles. 

The home they shared with grandfather was nowhere near a castle, but it was a real home. It was warm and held years of memories. Why would Anya give that up for this? 

As they entered the building Alicent became more and more terrified of living there. The man at the front desk was obviously drunk, the elevator door was covered in caution tape and the stairwell was dark and dirty.

After climbing up four flights of stairs they finally reached the top floor. Edrick opened the door of his apartment inviting the girls to come inside. Edrick’s home wasn’t as small as Alicent assumed it would be, it was smaller than their original home but big enough for all of them to fit comfortably, at least in theory.

The apartment was dingy and cold, the lights Edrick flipped on were dim and constantly flickered, threatening to completely shut off at any given moment. As Alicent walked around she held her belongings close, as if they would jump out of her arms and run away at the sight of their new so called home. 

Anya smiled. “Sweetheart, your room is down the hall to the right. How about you go check it out?” She asked sweetly, her tone was dripping with desperation. Alicent left without disagreement, she knew where she wasn’t wanted.

As soon as she left, she could hear Anya and Edrick start to paw at each other, causing Alicent to hurry to her room.

She carefully closed the door and walked across the room to gently place her books and teddy bear on the window seal, unwilling to sit her beloved items on the dirty carpet.

The room was small and cold like the rest of the apartment. The lightbulb looked to be cracked so she didn’t even bother to try and flick the lights on. There were cobwebs in every corner of the room, she saw a small spider crawl across the glass on the window.

She focused on the tiny creature as memories of Helaena flooded her mind and her eyes began to water.

Maybe this is her punishment

January 1st, 1999, 12:03am

“Look Ally, it was cool while it lasted but I’m not the kind of guy who's up for commitment. You knew what the situation was when we first hooked up, don’t act surprised now.” Travis huffed out a laugh while stroking the patchy, barely there beard on his chin.

Alicent’s face fell, her lips turned down in a frown. “You're breaking up with me?” 

Travis hissed. “Sweetheart, you have to actually be in a relationship with someone in order to break up with them. But I understand your confusion. You’re young, you’ll understand one day.”

She held her head down, eyes focused on her blistered covered feet, they had just walked back from a firework show at the beach across town in celebration of the new year. It had been the happiest moment of her life. “I love you.” She whispered; voice full of anguish. 

Travis said nothing at the confession, it was nothing he hadn't heard before. He walked up to her and patted her shoulder while whispering empty meaningless words of comfort. “I paid for the room in advance, so you don’t have to leave for a couple of days if you don’t want to.” He looked as though he wanted to say more but kept his mouth closed and walked out. The door closing behind shut him as he left caused the dam keeping Alicent’s tears from falling to finally come crashing down.

Alicent was currently fourteen years old, she had long run away from the abuse she faced from her birth mother and Edrick. It had gone too far; she knew it when Anya started to beat her with the TV cord as if it were a whip.

Before Alicent left, she owned a fluffy pink diary with a matching heart shaped lock and key. When she picked it up after spotting it walking through the aisles of Target her mother told her it was too childish for someone her age, she had just started high school a couple months prior after years of homeschooling. 

Alicent hadn't cared, not only was the book adorable it seemed like something Helaena would have asked for had she been with her.

After a lot of begging which ended in an offer from Alicent to pay for the item with her own money, Anya let out a frustrated sigh and bought the diary. Alicent wrote in it day and night, everything from her feelings about the modern world, to grievances about her past, and the goals she wanted to achieve in her new life.

She would write about her past life. How she yearned to be with her long gone children and grandchildren every day and how she wished she could hold them just one last time. 

There were moments when the pain of her loss was so deep that the only thing that would console Alicent was to write small stories as if her children were here with her. It was pathetic and even a bit crazy, but it was the only thing keeping her going.

One afternoon after a particularly bad day at school, Alicent wrote of how her and Rhaenyra would’ve been as fat as could be if they were with each other now. Modern grocery stores, specifically the bakery aisles wouldn’t have stood a chance against them. They would have bought dozens of cakes and other pastries all at once then stuffed themselves until they were too full to take another bite.

Alicent made a lemon pound cake in home ec class once. It was moist and fluffy on the inside with a nice crunchy crust on the outside. She teared up when she realized she would never get to make it for the woman she once called her friend. 

Much of her time was spent huddled up at the desk in her room, writing in her diary of how their lives would’ve turned out if they were born in this day and age. The diary put Alicent on the track of working through her grief. However, her progress had been ruined when she came home one day after a lengthy after school tutoring session to find her room door open and the little pink book ripped into pieces on the floor. The diary looked as though a rabid animal had gotten to it, using it as a chew toy.

Alicent was so enraged that she ran to Anya’s room and screamed at her, cursing her for being such a vile horrid woman who didn’t possess the ability to love. Why couldn’t she let Alicent have this one thing? She no longer spoke of her past life to anyone but herself, not in years. What more did this woman want from her?

That night ended with Alicent running out of the apartment barefoot with a stinging red cheek.

She had no clue of where she would go or what she would do, she had no one, unable to fit in a school or find the courage to join in extracurricular activities to make friends. She wanted to contact her grandfather, but she had no money for a payphone. Even if she did, who's to say his number would be the same? It’s been three whole years since the last time she saw him. A lot could change in so little time, she knew that better than anyone.

No one paid Alicent any mind as she walked down the streets, a young girl walking down a dark street crying her eyes out was just another day on this side of town. 

Alicent had walked for an entire hour until she came by a small restaurant with a glowing sign that read ‘open until midnight’ in the front entrance. She walked in and headed straight for the restroom, not bothering to greet the woman at the counter. 

She cried as she looked at herself in the mirror, her long hair was a tangled mess, her eyes were red and puffy, clumps of her eyelashes stuck together from her tears acting as glue. Tear streaks falling down her chubby cheeks were stained black from her mascara.

Alicent did her best to clean herself up, she finger detangled her hair to the best of her abilities and put it in a messy bun with the singular rubber band she thankfully had wrapped around her wrist. 

She ended up using a fourth of the restroom's toilet paper to wipe the tears, snot and ruined makeup from her face.

Once she cleaned herself up to the best of her abilities, she left the restroom and sat down at one of the vacant tables in the darkest corner of the restaurant. Thankfully the waitress never came by to take her order, probably sensing the girl wanted to be left alone.

Alicent sat there for hours watching out the window as the fast cars sped by leaving smoke in their dust. 

It was odd, being reborn into modern society. She’s known today’s technology since before she was able to figure out what her past memories truly meant, yet she can’t help but feel like a medieval time traveler. Never fully able to blend in with those around her, her thoughts constantly on the past.

This was her punishment for her past sins, a life of nothing but loneliness and mistreatment, forced to watch as the world went by while she wallowed in memories and past regrets. Unable to join her loved ones who have crossed over. 

Alicent would be lying if she said she’s never contemplated suicide. The only thing that has stopped her was the idea of being reborn again, what if she was stuck in a never-ending loop for the rest of time?

She didn’t want to know, not yet. She’ll cross that bridge when she gets there.

This wasn’t what she expected when she was on her deathbed, but it was fitting nonetheless. Uncanny to the last years of her life imprisoned in her chambers, driven half mad by her own hallucinations. Even her disdain for the color green remained the same, the color made her sick. She refused to wear it no matter the occasion. The few times Alicent had managed to convince Anya to decorate for Christmas she never picked out green decorations, Anya argued that red and green were traditional Christmas color’s but she didn’t care.

Instead Alicent picked silver and blue items. The color she always found happiness in and the shade of her babes hair.

There was a time when she found the silver locks of the Targaryen’s to be a deformity, a mark of unholy acts. Now she desires nothing more than to see it once again. 

Suddenly she felt someone touch her shoulder, she quickly turned around coming face to face with a golden haired man with deep brown eyes. “Hey, I don’t mean to bother you, but the lady upfront said they’re closing in like fifteen minutes.” He explained. 

Alicent rubbed her eyes. “Oh, that’s right. Thank you for telling me.” She tried her best to sound appreciative, but it didn’t shine through.

The man nodded; he turned around to leave but turned back. “Are you okay?” He was looking her up and down, obviously worried by her messy appearance.

Alicent felt embarrassed under the man's gaze, moving to smooth out her wrinkly shirt and sneakily fix her hair. She must look even worse than she thought she did. “Y-es, I’m fine.”

He didn’t look persuaded. “Do you need a ride? I’ll take you anywhere you need to go.”

Alicent shook her head. “I don’t want to be a bother and I don’t have any money to pay you for gas.” She stuttered.

He shook his head. “don’t worry about any of that, I'm just being a good Samaritan.” The man's smile was dreamy, his eyes squinted, and the inner corners wrinkled up. He was looking deep into her eyes causing her to blush. Alicent had never had anyone direct such a look at her, it made her insides melt.

The feeling was shameful but surprisingly not unwelcome.

“O-ok.” She agreed and got up, allowing him to guide her to his car. As they walked Alicent mentally berated herself for trusting this random man. He could be a serial killer for all she knew. But then again, what did she have to lose if he was?

“What's your name?” Alicent blurted out, successfully cutting off her inner monologue. She figured that if she was going to trust this man, she should at least get his name.

The man chuckled and scratched his neck in embarrassment. “Oh, my bad. I didn’t even tell you. My name’s Travis Lannister. Yours?” 

A Lannister? She should’ve known from the hair. A Lannister’s hair was a particular shade of gold people pay stylists a fortune to recreate.

People did the same thing trying to imitate the now extinct Targaryen look. Alicent scoffed when she would read magazine articles about celebrities bleaching their hair to death in order to achieve the sought-after silver locks. She would be lying if she said some people didn’t come close, but no one could ever replicate that distinct shade of blondish silver. 

“Alicent Tully.” She introduced shyly.

He smirked at her obvious nervousness and opened the door for her on their way out. 

That was it took for her to fall for him.

He asked if there was anywhere she wanted him to take her, when she told him she had nowhere to go he offered to let her stay at his place. It turns out that Travis lived in a condo on the more affluent side of Storm’s end. 

As they arrived Alicent gaped at the amount of luxury cars she saw in the parking lot while he looked for an empty spot to park, but the one that really caught her eye was the all-white Range Rover truck, her interest didn’t go unnoticed by Travis. 

“You have nice taste.”

“Thank you.” She mumbled as she looked down at her hands. 

Once they were in his home Travis let her sleep in his bed while he took the couch. He was nice, more than he should’ve been. Others had strayed away from Alicent or simply flat out ignored her existence no matter how hard she tried to create relationships. Travis was the first person besides her grandfather who had been kind to her in this life. 

It felt nice to be seen.

When morning came, he offered to let her stay for as long as she wanted, an offer she shyly accepted. Their relationship started off innocent, but it wasn’t long before it spiraled into something more.

Travis had shown Alicent a whole New World, he took her to underground parties, they would get in his car and take road trips on a whim to any destination she chose. He quietly listened as he allowed her to cry into his chest while she detailed Anya’s abuse. How the woman that was supposed to protect and cherish her, would beat her any little thing. Travis never pushed or prodded, he merely listened and softly rubbed her back as he told her she was safe.

It was funny actually, Alicent had found her prince charming in a world where the concept of royalty was a thing of the past.

That’s what she believed before reality started to come crashing through the small fantasy world she created.

Alicent had a strong aversion when the topic of sexual intimacy came up. Though sex was an open topic in this world she still held onto the past teachings of shame when it came to women’s sexuality. She desired Travis, much to her own embarrassment. Yet all she could think about when they got too close was Viserys on top of her.

She chastised herself. It’s not as though she had been raped, she was simply doing her duty as his wife, they both were. Why were those moment’s the only thing on her mind? Was she truly that broken?

“Is it me? Are you not as attracted to me as I thought you were?” Travis asked, they were on his bed half nude. Alicent willingly took off her shirt but couldn’t find the confidence to remove her remaining clothes. Travis on the other hand only had his boxers on, and he was pushing her to let him take them off.

“No, I am-”

“Then why won’t you sleep with me? I love you, Ally. Don’t you love me too?” He said sadly.

His words were enough to melt her resolve. No one had ever told her such things, not even Viserys who she had been married to for decades and given three healthy children to. 

She closed her eyes and allowed Travis to take her.

That was only a mere week ago. 

As it turns out he only desired what was between her legs. Alicent laid on the couch and closed her eyes, praying that the Gods would have mercy and allow her to never wake up.

“No no no.” Alicent cried. “This can’t be happening.” She sobbed with her hands over her mouth as she looked down at the stick shaking in her hand.

Alicent had been feeling awful for the past few months, she was hungry all the time, constantly crying and feeling incredibly overwhelmed. She even had heartburn so horrible she felt as though she could breathe fire.

In the beginning she chalked it up to stress and heartbreak, she was living in a shelter with no hope of leaving anytime soon. She had no family and the only friend she made was simply a woman that pitied her. The stress of her current situation would be enough to cause anyone’s body to act abnormally.

If stress could kill people, it wasn’t crazy to think it could make you crave pickles and ice cream too, right?

That was until her period was late for the second time in a row. When the month came and went with no visit from aunt flow Alicent knew what she had to do. 

Alicent was currently sitting on the toilet seat in the bathroom of the woman and girl’s shelter she had been living at. When Travis called it quits Alicent was left with nowhere to live since she met him the very day she left Anya.

After two whole days of sleeping and crying her eyes out into the hotel pillows, Alicent gathered her clothes and walked across the entire city to his apartment in order to retrieve her things. Once she got there, she opened the door to find Travis already rolling around on the floor with another girl, a redhead with a pixie cut.

When the door slammed shut behind her the two jumped up and scrambled away from one another. Travis was confused at first, but that quickly morphed into annoyance at Alicent’s presence. Meanwhile, the girl he was with couldn’t keep her eyes off Alicent, not even long enough to adjust her clothes.

Travis rolled his shoulders, trying to loosen the stiff joints. “What are you doing here Ally?” He asked, faking confusion. As if he was totally unaware that all of her stuff was piled up in their room.

His room now.

Alicent let out a shaky breath, doing her best to keep from crying at the cold behavior she was receiving from the man she loved. “I need to get my things.”

“Do you know each other?” The redhead interrupted; her eyes squinted as she looked back at Travis. Her voice was low, and her tone was untrusting, as if she was looking at the man in a new light after Alicent’s sudden appearance.

He nodded. “It’s complicated-”

“He said he loved me.” Alicent cut in, not allowing him to spew lies about what they were to each other. She could practically smell the incoming falsehoods he was about to tell, it was the same scent Otto had reeked of. Deception.

The woman’s face twisted up in disgust. She stood up and walked over to Alicent. She felt the wind get knocked out of her at the sheer size of the woman. She was a giant, there was no way in all seven hells she was under six feet tall.

The woman bent down to look into Alicent’s eyes. “How old are you?” She asked softly.

Alicent felt her eyes go wide at the question but answered anyway. “Fourteen?” She stated, unsure of the woman’s reasoning for asking such a thing.

The redhead’s lips curled, she spun around and marched over to Travis, grabbing him by his hair and slightly raising him off the ground. He screamed out in a mix of confusion and pain at his latest hookup’s actions.

“She’s a child you sick fuck!” She yelled as she continued to throw him around with only her right arm.   

Alicent ran over and pulled at the woman’s arm. “What are you doing to him?” She shouted. She was upset with him but there was no reason for this woman to act this way. She didn’t even  know her.

The woman let go of Travis and turned to Alicent. “Did he have sex with you?” She asked, breathing heavily. Alicent’s face went red from the invasive question. Why did she feel comfortable asking her such questions? Didn’t she know that was private?

“That’s none of your business.” Alicent hissed, her lips were pursed and the lines in between her eyebrows had become prominent.

The woman sighed. And turned back to Travis who was currently rolling around on the floor, crying out in pain. “You, stay right there.” She whipped around to Alicent and pointed at her. “And you’re coming with me.” She demanded. Before Alicent could reply she grabbed her hand and took her outside into the hallway.

“Let me go!” She yelled, screaming at the top of her lungs to alert the neighbors

The woman laughed. “No way in hell.”

‘I don’t even know you.” Alicent sneered as she continued her attempts at escaping the redhead's hold.

Her words sounded ridiculous to even her own ears. She hadn’t known Travis either, yet she still went home with him like an idiot.

Now look at me

The woman stopped and let go of Alicent’s arm causing her to almost tumble over. “Jayne Snow, I’m a second year student at KL University.” She looked down at herself as she buttoned up her blouse. “My major is child and family welfare. You’re a child, so your welfare is my business.”

Alicent scoffed. “Second year? You’re not that much older than me.” 

“I’m old enough to know he took advantage of you.”

Alicent remained silent. She wasn’t a child, not actually. She had lived through a cruel time in history where the way of the world was an eye for an eye. She lived among dragon’s and vipers alike, she may be a child in body, but she was nothing of the sort in mind.

Jayne sighed. “I know a place you can stay, follow me.”

It had been three months since then.

Alicent looked back down at the test and took a deep breath. She didn’t have to go through this if she didn’t wish to, there were more options for women now. All she had to do was say the word and Jayne would schedule an appointment faster than she could blink.

But something in her gut told her that wasn't the right option.

She had to listen to it.

“Push Alicent. C’mon just a little more” Jayne encouraged as she let her squeeze her hand.

Alicent screamed out in agony at the feeling of being torn open. This was nothing like her previous experiences, she only now knew just how much had lucked out all those years ago. None of her pregnancies were a fuss, she floated by with little more than a few odd food cravings and slightly swollen ankles.

Giving birth was even easier, Aegon and Aemond had practically slid right out of her once the time came. Her dear Helaena had been slightly more trouble than her brother’s, however it was nothing too terrible.

But this? It was torture. She was sweating profusely as she continued to push on the doctor’s orders, forcing herself to stop when they commanded her. Every push was more painful than the last. It had come to the point that Alicent could barely feel anything below her pelvis. The pain from the contractions had basically numbed the rest of her lower body.

Was this what Aemma had gone through? The unbearable, excruciating pain? She cursed her past self for the cruel judgments she once held over the poor woman. Alicent had shamefully thought the queen was weak willed, defective in not being able to do what she thought at the time was a woman’s only purpose in life.

If only she had known.

. 

Another contraction shot through her. “I see the head! Give me one more push, just one.” Doctor Tyrell shouted.

After one last push Alicent felt the pressure in her pelvis disappear, immediate relief followed, and a loud cry of new life filled the room

“It’s a boy!”

Jayne let out a cry of happiness and hugged Alicent from the side. “Let me see him, please let me see my baby.” Alicent held out her arms as she cried.  The nurse rushed over and handed the baby to her. Once Alicent’s eyes landed on her son she went still with shock and began to sob.

He had light blonde hair, ocean blue eyes and chubby cheeks, and a single dimple right in the middle on his chin creating a tiny cleft. She had seen this face before, it was the very face that had graced her in her dreams during her lonely nights. 

This was her Aegon.

“My boy.” Alicent wept, unable to hold back. “My beautiful baby boy.” 

Jayne smiled, not caring to hide the tears running down her face. “What’s his name Ally? Thomas? James? Rickon maybe? He looks like he could be a Rickon.” She rambled as her eyes remained stuck on the child in her friend's arms.

“Aegon, Aegon Tully.” Alicent laughed, she felt as though she was on cloud nine. 

After all these years, the heartbreak, the loneliness and yearning for everything she lost, her precious boy has returned to her. Just as beautiful as the first and very last time she had laid eyes on him.

Jayne raised her eyebrows, but her smile didn't fade. “Not Lannister?”

Alicent shook her head as she rubbed her cheek against his. “For what? Travis didn’t jack shit to deserve the honor.”

Jayne choked on her own spit as she fell into a fit of laughter.

“Hello, my love. We’ve finally found each other yet again. Haven’t we?” She whispered into his ear. “

“Thank you for allowing me to be your mother.” She kissed his button nose.

The small smile that came across Aegon’s lips was the only answer she needed.

Three years have passed since Alicent has been reunited with her son.

She would be a liar if she said it was easy, but they made it work. Alicent had finally decided to go back to school in hopes of joining the child welfare program Jayne had recently graduated from. Her friend has gushed over the possibility of them being hired at the same law firm together and helping children across Westeros. 

How could she say no to an offer like that?

Today they had celebrated Aegon’s third birthday with a small party at Chuck E cheese inviting a few children he spent time with from his daycare. Jayne happily dressed up as Jessie from Toy Story, Aegon watched the movie almost every day on repeat.

Sometimes Alicent would catch her boy eyeing his dolls and stuffed animals with childlike wonder and a tiny bit of sneaky suspension. And if Alicent would oftentimes rearrange his toys to make it seem as though they had moved when he wasn’t looking, it was no one's business. Not even Jayne’s. 

Alicent bought a three-layer chocolate cake with strawberry icing with red and green sprinkles in the shape of dragon’s, exactly how her precious boy liked it. 

He laughed uncontrollably when he speared cake into Alicent's hair, causing the other children in attendance along with a few of their moms to giggle at her shocked expression. Alicent found the only way to properly retaliate was to cover Aegon’s chubby face in pink icing. 

She had never seen him so happy.

This birthday was different from the birthdays they shared together in the past. Yes, the love had always been present, but there had been so much pressure, so many expectations for them to meet as the prince and queen mother that it couldn’t shine through. Alicent found herself hyper aware of every little detail from the way she dressed to the words she said, there was no room for error of any sort.

They didn’t have to worry about such things any longer, now they were simply an everyday family celebrating one of the best days of the year as it always should've been. Alicent had never felt more at peace than she did now.

At the end of the day after she and Jayne had cleaned up their rented section and Aegon had made an abundance of adorable little goodbyes to his friends, promising to see them after the weekend, Alicent pulled him to the side and sat him on her lap.

She reached into her bag and pulled out a small picture.

“Look my love, do you know what that is?” She asked her son as she held the photo up to his face.

Aegon tilted his head and smiled. “Nooooo.” He giggled.

Alicent smiled as she felt her eyes begin to water. “That’s a baby.” She said softly, rubbing Aegon’s stomach which was poking out from under his G.I Joe shirt from stuffing himself with pizza.

“Baby?” Aegon whispered.

“Yes, Aegon. A baby is in mommy’s belly.” Alicent breathed.

After an entire year of trying Alicent had finally become pregnant. She practically jumped up and down in the seat at the doctor's office when the nurse said she would be having a healthy baby with all ten fingers and toes. However, she opted out of knowing the sex, not wanting to place any hopes or expectations on the slim chance another one of her children would come back to her.

That was her original plan when she initially resumed her sexual relationship with Travis (much to Jayne’s disapproval.) She did it with the initiation that her other children would return to her just as Aegon had, but after a long year she threw her faith up in the air and let the Gods decide what would happen. No matter what the outcome was, she would love this baby with everything she had to give.

It may not have been the smartest idea to have another baby at the moment. She was only eighteen and she had only just figured out what she planned to do with the rest of her life.

But all she wanted was a family. Was that really so bad?

Aegon grabbed the picture with his tiny fingers and bought it closer to his face as he examined it. He pointed at the gray figure and pursed his little lips “Hel!” He shouted 

Alicent’s mouth dropped. “Hel?”

Aegon twisted his head to look at her, finger still pointing at the photo. “Laena!’ He shouted once again, more sternly this time.

“Hel.” He said once again, eyes shining so brightly that Alicent swore she saw them sparkle. 

“Laena.” He finished as he giggled excitedly. “Helaena!” He laughed in joy as he looked at his mother’s shocked expression. Burying his face in her chest while still gripping the ultrasound photo tight.

“Oh, my precious boy.” She cried as she squeezed Aegon as close to her as possible.

They would be together again.

She would never let go.

Chapter Text

Luke, practically high from his win, took his new foster father’s hand and shook it. The man’s grip was so strong he felt as though he was mere seconds from having to deal with a severe case of cut off circulation. 

Even so, he still managed to hold his own. The pleased smirk on Daemon’s face tells him the older man thought the same. 

Luke had never felt as good as he did right in this moment. After months of being torn down, beaten and practically held prisoner by his own grueling thoughts, he’s finally found a sprinkle of light at the end of the tunnel. It wasn’t much in the long run, the possibility of the future trial ending in a guilty verdict slowly but surely followed behind him like the grim reaper. 

Nevertheless, he closed his eyes and ignored the dreaded thoughts rather than focusing on them. He would cross that bridge when the time came. For right now, the list of shit that could ruin his mood was shorter than ever before.

Hopefully it’ll last.

“And as a part of this family, it’s only proper for everyone to introduce themselves.” Rhaenyra said as she looked towards the brunette boys beside her.

The older boy’s eyes were still wide, seemingly from Luke’s initial reaction to Daemon’s question. Did the guy have some weird aversion to foul language? He did stand like he had a stick up his ass, or was it bad posture?

Maybe he was one of those religious, conservative freaks that believed dropping an F bomb was the first step to securing a first class ticket to all seven hells. 

Luke had no problem with people that chose to follow whatever faith they saw fit, someone in this crap world has to have hope there’s something better waiting for them from the beyond. Yet and still, many followers of the seven proved themselves to think they were holier than thou. Luke already had enough on his plate without some stuck up ass wipe judging his life choices, he could do that all on his own thank you very much.

The boy shuffled closer hesitantly. “I’m Jacaerys but call me Jace.” He said as he reached to shake Luke’s hand. Luke took it without issue. “Luke, but I guess you know that already.”

“I would have to be deaf, dumb and blind not to.” Jace chuckled. 

Damn, his grip was strong too. Luke was certain his poor hand would be in a world of pain by the end of the day if everyone he met shook his hand like they were trying to squeeze water from it.

Just when Jace let go he was pushed aside. “I’m Joffrey.” 

“Joff.” Rhaenyra reprimanded, clearly used to the younger's behavior. 

The long haired boy looked Luke up and down with pure fascination, eyes especially focused on his hand tattoos. Luke had a feeling he would be dealing with a lot of odd questions. He could tell just from looking at him that the kid had no filter whatsoever. All he hoped for was the kid’s questions were more on the funny side than invasive.

Jace looked pissed meanwhile Joffrey had a shit eating grin plastered across his face.

“And you guys are Alicent’s sons?” He questioned, pointing towards the attorney.

For some odd reason his foster parents thought his question was funny, both letting out a small chuckle while Jace simply shook his head. However, his lips turned upwards into a fond smile. “No, she’s more like an aunt than anything. Were Harwin’s kids, you’ve met him right?”

Harwin? Now that he’s mentioned it Luke is beginning to see the resemblance. Jace is pretty tall too, he basically towered over him, though standing over Luke wasn’t a hard task to accomplish. The muscle definition in his arms was quite apparent as well. If he grew his hair out like his brother he could very well be Harwin 2.0

He didn’t look nearly as intimidating though, the bodyguard nearly scared the piss out of Luke the first time he laid eyes on him.

“The one that looks like he could go up against The Rock? I’ve met him.”

“Oh please, Harwin would crush that man.” Rhaenyra scoffed. “Isn’t that right?” She asked, eyes focused on Alicent.

The woman in question laughed. “They used to call him break bones for a reason.” 

Luke couldn’t for the life of him understand what that meant, but he figured it was an inside gag from the way both women began to laugh as if they heard the funniest joke of all time. He was sure he even saw daemon crack a smile.

Is it weird that I feel left out?

The court announcer walked towards the group and tapped Alicent’s shoulder. “My apologies for interrupting but Judge Tarth needs to have a quick chat with you, it’s important.” The man said in an apologetic tone at having disrupted their ongoing conversation.

Alicent turned her attention to the Judge who had stepped down from his seat and was now searching through a pile of papers. “It looks as though Judge Tarth is gathering the remainder of the information needed for your stay in King’s Landing.” She focused her soft gaze into Luke. “Will you be comfortable without me for the next twenty or so minutes?” She asked, her arm around Luke not loosening even a little after all this time.

Was it pathetic how badly he hoped she wouldn’t let go? Luke felt a sense of safety and relief in her hold he’d never experienced before.

His previous foster mother, Tessa, held him like this on a few separate occasions. Mostly after he awoke from his dreams crying out in phantom pain. But her arms weren’t as warm, nor did she ever hold onto him like he was to be protected.

She never referred to him with love as Alicent had.

Luke felt his body slightly tense at the thought of being without Alicent, even if it was for a short amount of time. He mentally scoffed at himself for acting like a child that couldn’t last a day without holding his mommy’s hand.

Luke had always been able to hold his own regardless of the situation at hand, he was never afforded the luxury of another choice. It was almost shameful how it only took a few back rubs to make him feel so dependent on her presence. But then again, Owen had Luke at his mercy by doing even less.

He cleared his throat. He would be fine, Luke had to live with these people anyway, and he was sure his time with Alicent would be cut dramatically once he was settled in King’s Landing. She was a busy woman who he was positive had more important things to deal with than his attachment issues deciding to rear its ugly head.

“No problem.” He said cooly as he waved his hand in dismissal, not missing the small squeak of joy his foster mother let out. 

Out of everyone she was the most elated at the outcome of the hearing, buzzing with excitement like a child that had been told they were going to Disney World. If Luke didn’t know any better he’d say she was even happier than him.

Rhaenyra didn't approach him like how she did when they met for the first time. Looking to be more mindful of her actions towards him, something he was thankful for. He didn’t want to avoid her out of fear she wouldn’t respect his boundaries. Whether or not he was a doppelganger of her dead kid would quickly lose the weight it held if she did. 

Rhaenyra really did seem to be a kind woman, no matter the true reason for said kindness. He would take what he could get, beggars can’t be choosers.

Alicent gave him a simple okay before releasing Luke and leaving to greet the judge. From the way Judge Tarth enveloped her in his arms once she got his attention Luke was willing to bet this wasn’t their first time meeting. 

“Since our dear Alicent is busy we should wait in the car, yes?”  Daemon said, playfully slapping Joffrey on the back of his neck. The slap looked like it was painful and the sound it made was even worse, but the boy simply laughed as if it was no problem. Luke was definitely going to keep one eye open when next to the kid.

On their way out Luke made sure to keep his gaze off of Sydney, who was still seated behind the podium, possibly due to his lawyer screwing around in the corner of the room furiously typing on his phone.

Though he kept his focus straightforward he could sense the man’s eyes on the back of his head. Luke could almost feel the hot fury the man had for him coursing through his stare. If looks could kill he would be dead in an instant.

The seconds it took to leave the room felt like hours.

The halls of the courthouse were somehow even more crowded than they were when Luke first stepped foot inside. It was as if the amount of people present had tripled within a span of an hour. 

Jace took to walking next to Luke, giving him the opportunity to get a better look at him. 

His hair is just as curly as his little brothers. It was shorter, reaching to the bottom of his ears creating bangs that almost covered his eyes completely. Probably attempting to hide a massive forehead. From what Luke could see Jace’s eyes were dark green, similar to moss on a tree, tiny freckles were scattered across his nose and cheeks like sprinkles on a cake.  

His lips were pursed tightly, his eyes quickly dotted back and forth from Luke as though he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the courage to spit it out. Luke was confused as to why. He wasn’t an intimidating guy, barely reaching above 5’7 and had been told multiple times he had ‘princess eyes.’

But when he thought about it, he realized the only people who said such things were guys who he had been in the middle of sucking off. Those fuckers will spew all sorts of nonsense mid nut, it was truly pathetic.

Luke didn’t blame Jace for his reluctance, he had seen him in literal shackles as he sat and listened to Sydney’s lawyer give a detailed recount of how Luke half blinded and probably crippled him for life. Fear was an understandable response in the presence of a person like that.

It did, however, cause a sinking feeling in the pit of Luke’s stomach. Did he seem like the type to hurt people unprovoked? He spaced out quite a bit during Alicent’s defense, mostly due to seeing Sydney for the first time in what felt like forever.

From what he remembers she put heavy emphasis on the fact that he only did what he did to protect himself. But was that believable? Judge Tarth must’ve thought so, had Luke not been the person accused he would’ve laughed at how the judge basically told Sydney’s lawyer to kick rocks.

He looked at the other boy’s face, still shrouded in caution and sighed. Things were already coming off to a bad start.

Out of the blue, a loud whistle shot through halls as they walked through the courthouse. Luke looked around to find the source only to catch Cecil speed walking over to him with an elderly woman right by his side. To Luke’s surprise she was able to keep up with the pink haired boy without issue.

“Guess who’s a free fucking man!” Cecil shouted as he held up his hands, now free of the silver cuffs.

Luke’s frown turned into a full blown smile. He abandoned his place with the Lannister’s and zipped across the room, almost running head first into a few people to meet Cecil halfway, ignoring his foster family's confusion at his sudden departure. 

“Motherfucker! I told you, didn't I?” Luke was now shouting just as Loud as Cecil, eliciting a few odd looks from lawyers and other court staff. Normally he would feel bad for his rude behavior in such a setting, but he was too excited to give a shit. They could stare all they wanted to, he was walking out of this place no matter what and no amount of judgmental gawking was going to take that victory away from him. 

Cecil hugged Luke, whispering thanks into his ear. Luke cradled his friend's head giving him a slight noogie. “We made a promise, didn’t we? No matter what happened we would stick together.”

Cecil let go. “Now look at us.”

The older boy now had an air of happiness around him that Luke had never seen before. Cecil had always been a high energy guy who seemed to be in a good mood nonstop, but there was just something so different, so refreshing about him now. 

Luke’s grateful he’s able to witness it. His friend deserved his freedom, no doubt about it.

Luke’s focus moved to the woman standing beside them as they had their moment. She was a tiny thing, likely no taller than five feet, she had lilac colored hair that flowed down to her shoulder in messy beach waves with dark gray roots, deep set eyes and was completely covered in tattoos from her forehead to her toes.

What stuck out the most was the tattoo of a yellow flower between her eyebrow and cheekbone. 

Seeing a woman her age covered head to toe in ink was one of the most interesting sights to see. He wanted badly to ask this woman a million and one questions but he could only find the words to ask a single one.

“And you are?” Luke asked uncertainty, a singular eyebrow raised. 

The woman stared at him with a look that said ‘you know exactly who I am.’

Cecil laughed. “Who do you think she is? Granny, this is my friend Luke. Luke, this is my grandma Olenna.” He said proudly, sticking out his chest. 

Olenna rolled her eyes and waved her hands at her grandson dismissively. “Cut it out boy, I’m not senile, I can introduce myself.” She cackled and she grabbed Luke’s hand, encasing it in both of her own.

She leaned in close to him. “Thank you, for being Cecil’s friend. You have no idea how much it filled my heart with joy to read Cecil’s letters about you and the others. You’re all the reason he survived that shithole of a place.”

Cecil hunched his shoulders as his cheeks turned pink at his grandmother sharing their private conversions. “Hey, those letters were private. Talking about them with others is off limits” He whined in humiliation.

Olenna rolled her neck and scoffed in a mix of disbelief and amusement. “And my room is off limits too, but that doesn't stop you from barging in and throwing your dirty feet on my bed while I’m not home, now does it?”

Luke couched to hold in the laugh that was attempting to escape. Cecil’s grandmother was everything he imagined and more.

“Hey, my feet are not dirty. And in my defense your bed is way more comfortable than mine.”

Olenna looked taken aback. “In case you’ve forgotten you had a bed just as soft as mine before you decided to jump up and down on it like a toddler and broke the springs.”

“You should’ve known Cecil better.”  Luke said, fiending disappointment. 

The elderly woman tisked. “I tell him that all the time. He needs to take some lessons from you in behaving properly.” 

Cecil’s mouth gaped in shock as he started to stutter. “Are you serious? This dude is ten times worse than me.” Cecil wailed at his grandmother's favor towards the other boy. She shooed her grandson off and turned to Luke’s own foster family, who had been paying close attention to the encounter occurring in front of them. 

“Are you leaving with these people?” She whispered, making sure no one could hear her besides him. 

He nodded.

“Do you trust them?” She inquired even softer, looking him deeply in his eyes.

Luke bit his lip, not sure how to answer. He didn’t want to scare the woman by saying no but from the look she was giving him, she would be able to call his bluff if he lied. 

“My attorney said they’re good people. I trust her.” He answered.

Though the sides of her mouth turned down she nodded, seemingly satisfied with his answer. She held up Luke’s hand and turned to the Lannister’s. “You take good care of this boy you hear me? If not, we’ll have a problem.” She said sternly, raising her voice.

Daemon looked intrigued by the threat while Rhaenyra looked seconds away from tears. “Trust me, we’ll do more than that.” Daemon assured.

“He’s safe in our hands.” Rhaenyra doubled down.

The elderly woman, not caring to respond to their promises, simply threw them a threatening look as she gave Luke’s hands one last squeeze. 

“Let’s go boy, we have a long trip to make.” She told her grandson, turning around to leave the building.

Cecil and Luke looked at one another for the last time, Luke felt his chest become tight. Ever since he was sent to Hellhot all that clouded his mind was how he could potentially make it out. But now that he’s made it, it feels bittersweet for reasons he can’t begin to comprehend.

He wouldn't miss the lack of privacy or torturous kitchen duty, but the thought of no longer waking up to Simone buzzing with excitement at the news of new snacks being stocked up in commissary, Cecil begging him to practice stick and pokes on him during their time in the common room, or even being forced to endure Blondie being a bitchy mess for whatever new reason of the week made him feel empty inside.

They all made such a big impact on his life in so little time. When he entered Hellhot he never thought he would exit like this. 

Never entertained the idea that it would be so bittersweet.

“I love you man.” Cecil breathed, doing his best to make sure his words could only be heard by Luke.

Luke smiled sadly. “Same to you.”

They let go and went their separate ways.

As Luke walked back to his foster family he was once again greeted by warm smiles, it didn’t stop the pain he felt eating through his chest, but it certainly helped ease it. 

Outside the courtroom steps awaited Harwin, the muscular man smiled as he held his hand out to help Rhaenyra down the staircase. Snickering when the woman trailed down the stairs at a snail's pace.

Daemon snickered at his wife teasingly. “I warned you not to wear those shoes my love. Several times might I remind you.”

Rhaenyra flipped him off with her free hand and continued down the steps. Luke was a bit surprised at the woman’s reaction, from the way those two constantly made googly eyes at each other he didn’t think they would be the type to tell one another to fuck off. Every relationship has its layers, he guessed.

Luke walked down the stairs just as carefully, though he no longer needed his crutches his leg was still wrapped in bandages. This morning Doctor Jackie had taken the liberty of re-wrapping his knee after she checked and confirmed his stitches could be removed in the next week. Even though Luke appreciated it the doctor had put the material on extremely tight and it was now making it hard for him to move his knee as he pleased.

Going up the stairs was apparently a world easier than going down them.

Jace saw this and asked if he needed help, an offer he quickly declined, ignoring the green-eyed boy’s look of dejection. Why the hell did everyone assume he was incompetent? It was a flight of stairs, not a damn mountain.

“How are you feeling kid?” Harwin asked once Luke made it past the last step. 

“He said he feels fucking amazing.” Joffrey blurted, walking backwards facing the group.  

Harwin let out a hardy laugh and winked at Luke, throwing him a nod in understanding. 

“What the hell did I tell you about all of that cursing Joffrey?” Rhaenyra chastised.

Luke raised an eyebrow, he didn't know shit about being a proper role model, but he was sure cursing while reprimanding a child for doing the same wasn’t the best approach possible.

The curly haired boy pouted like an elementary schooler. “You let Jace call Aegon a fat cunt all the time.”

“Because he’s actually a fat cunt, and everyone knows it.” Jace sneered.

Oh, so he does say naughty words.

Jace blushed when Rhaenyra tilted her head and shot him a look of disappointment. When he looked down in shame her stern face fell, she cracked a grin that held a slight touch of amusement, causing a dimple to appear in her chubby cheeks.

“Who’s Aegon?” Luke asked as they entered the parking lot. He didn’t know exactly which car to look out for but his guess was on whichever was the most expensive.

He started to wonder about Alicent's whereabouts. Was there really that much information to collect? Luke shuddered as he thought of what awaited him in King’s landing. He would be on house arrest well into the year as well as be forcibly placed into therapy sessions with some stuck up douchebag that thought they could fix the crap going on in his brain simply because they took a few tests and walked across a stage.

What more did he have to do? Community service? He would take that over therapy any day. At least that would do someone some good.

“An idiot that you won’t have to deal with if you don’t wish to.” Jace gently assured as if he were talking to a small child.

Luke was trying his best to figure out if he was purposely trying to be condescending or not. 

“He’s our uncle.” Joffrey answered. His brother shot him a death glare. Joffrey scoffed and rolled his eyes, not threatened in the least by his brother’s obvious displeasure.

Why the hell is their uncle here? Did he work for Alicent too?

“What’s so bad about the guy?” Luke asked, it would be in his best interest to try and get a good gauge on the type of people he would be interacting with. In the past he’d always gone into these situations blind, now he had the chance to prepare for what he would be met with. 

He wished someone had given him a warning about Sydney.

And in all honesty, he found himself interested in knowing their family lore. If any of the shit he read about rich families was even a quarter of the truth then he was certain this family had a lot of drama he could entertain himself with. From the sidelines of course, the last thing Luke needed in his life was more drama. He had enough of that to last several lifetimes.

Was Aegon a drunken asshole sort of uncle or the type you tell the younger children in your family to stay away from? Luke has unfortunately encountered both and he didn’t have any wishes of doing it again, spicy drama be damned.

That is if he had a choice at least.

“Where do I start?” Jace sighed.

“Please don’t make him start, he could go on for days if you let him.” Joffrey groaned.

The right side of Jace’s top lip turned up. “I could say the same for you. You’re still pissed he ate your leftover pulled pork four years ago and remind him anytime he asks for a bite of your food. You literally brought it up yesterday.”

Joffrey hums and turns his head down, suddenly very interested in the bricked pavement of the road. 

They soon stopped in front of a matte black G-wagon with red rimmed wheels parked next to Harwin’s Bentley.

The car was the darkest shade of black Luke had ever seen, he bet money that it would completely disappear under the night sky had the rims not been so bright. The windows were almost the same color. There was no way in all seven hells that tinted windows that dark wasn’t illegal.

“I know she’s hot but you're getting drool all over my baby kid.” Daemon teased.

Luke let out an embarrassed chuckle as he realized he had been eyeing the car for longer than necessary. 

“I thought I was your baby?” Rhaenyra pouted. Daemon frowned then leaned in to give her a deep kiss. 

At first a part of Luke would say their affection was cute, but as it dragged on he scrunched his nose and turned away, not in the mood to view what the couple were putting on display. From Jace and Joffrey’s gagging he would go out on a limb and say they shared his sentiments. 

“I’m back everyone!” Luke heard a familiar voice shout. He looked up to see Alicent waving with a handful of papers. “Let's get this show on the road!” She yelled as she skipped towards them. 

When she noticed her friends had been unresponsive, steadily wrapped up in their own little world she smirked. “Am I interrupting something?” She asked Harwin as she passed him on her way over to Luke.

The bodyguard grinned as he stared at the couple intensely. “Ok everyone , we’re in for a long drive so choose where you want to sit wisely.”

Rhaenyra thankfully paused her current activity to hum in agreement. Patting her husband's chest as they departed, earning a noise of disgust from Joffrey and he held his stomach. 

“Luke, where would you like to sit, love?” She asked as she opened the passenger side door. 

“As long as I get a ride I couldn’t care less.” He shrugged, peeking inside the truck. The interior was just as if not nicer than the outside. The seats were red leather with black detailing, not to mention there was a shit ton of space. Luke didn’t care where he sat as long as he could relax before his brain eventually went into overdrive.

“Are you sure?” She said with a twinge of worry.

He nodded, all he wanted to do was rest his leg until they took off to wherever the hell they were supposed to be going.

“I’ll take the left side.” Jace stated as he got in the car, sliding over to make space.

“I’m gonna ride with dad. We’ll be right behind you guys” Joffrey said before skipping over to Harwin.

“Do you have any items? Clothes or electronics?” Daemon asked Luke, seeming to only now realize the boy didn’t have anything with him.

“No, just the clothes on my back. I was booked in an outfit but I'm sure they threw it away.” He said as he sat next to Jace with Alicent following behind shortly after.

“What do you mean they threw them away? Are they allowed to do that?” Jace asked, perplexed. 

Luke laughed; he didn’t know the half of it.

Luke felt Alicent put her hand on his thigh. “The items that were confiscated during your booking are being sent back to my local office so you should have them by tomorrow morning. I’ve also put in a request to retrieve your belongings that were left at Sydney’s home since the police department confiscated everything.”

“So, you’re saying they just took all of his stuff?” Jace continued, still not fully grasping the situation. It was funny seeing the guy trying to process the idea of someone having all their shit taken away.

“It wasn’t much to begin with. Trust me, I’ll live.”

Luke’s response only served to upset the guy even more. He began ranting about how the number of things he had didn’t matter because it was still his stuff, so on and so forth. In all honesty Luke thought the boy’s strong feelings were sweet, albeit a bit weird. He couldn’t see why Jace cared so much about whether or not he had clothes.

Maybe he was one of those wrong is wrong’ sort of people.

Alicent tapped his shoulder. “Are you ready?”

Luke took one last look at the courthouse and nodded.

The purring of the engine as they rode away was like music to Luke’s ears.

Luke laid his head back and allowed his entire body to relax, letting out a deep breath as he felt the last remains of tension leave his muscles. He closed his eyes and fell into a peaceful middle ground between sleep and relaxation. A skill he originally learned as a way to trick his body into feeling as though he was asleep so he wouldn’t fall out from exhaustion.

He was never able to do it for longer than ten minutes at a time, but it worked wonders if you did it correctly.

The day wasn’t nearly over, and he was already tired as the roads were long. The hearing had sucked all of the energy out of him, leaving him feeling lazy and sluggish. A nap sounded like pure heaven; he could also go for a meal. He hadn’t eaten anything during breakfast, having slid his tray over to Simone in fear he would puke all over himself from nervousness if his stomach was full.

As his thoughts floated over to potential meals his stomach growled, cutting into the peaceful silence. Luke could feel his cheeks heat up in embarrassment but didn’t acknowledge it, choosing to keep his eyes closed.

“Are you hungry Luke? Would you like to stop and get some food? Let’s find a place to eat Daemon” Rhaenyra told her husband, voice laced with concern.

Luke opened his eyes. “You don’t have to, it’s fine.” He said, not wanting his own hunger to be an inconvenience. He was sure he would get a chance to eat eventually, there was no need to pull over for a slight stomachache.

“I could eat.” Jace gruffed out, he sounded like he was halfway towards falling asleep. 

“I’m a bit peckish as well. All I had today were a few cups of coffee.” Alicent chimed in.

“It’s settled then. How about the golden shack?” Rhaenyra suggested.

“We just ate there yesterday, and the day before.” Jace complained, his bottom lip was sticking out and his eyes were closed tight as if the almost pitch-black tint on the windows still weren’t blocking out the sun enough for him. 

“So what?” 

Jace huffed in annoyance. “You just want their lemon cake.”

“He’s right, your lips are going to turn yellow pretty soon,” Alicent added, pulling a laugh from Daemon who hadn't yet voiced his own opinion on the matter of where they would get food from, causing Rhaenyra to narrow her eyes and look around the car. “Is this an attack?”

“More like an intervention” Jace reasoned, now open and face plastered with a wide grin.

“They have lemon cake?” Luke asked tiredly. 

He heard of the golden shack in passing, it was a well-known food chain in Dorne. From what he knew it started a year ago and went viral on Tik Tok soon after due to a video of a girl ranting and raving about their strawberry lemonade that had enough caffeine in it to make you feel like you had just done a line of coke.

Luke had always meant to stop by and order one but never got the chance. 

“You like lemon cake as well?” Rhaenyra asked.

Luke sniffled and nodded, he always liked lemon flavored things, cake, candy, soda, it didn’t matter. 

“Our hotel has a good lemon pound cake on their dessert menu. Would you like to order one when we arrive? I’m the only one who likes it, would you care to share it?” Rhaenyra asked hopefully. 

So that's where they’re going. It made sense they were staying at a hotel, they lived in King’s landing so it was unlikely they would keep flying back and forth. But it had been weeks between today and their first meeting. They couldn’t have been in Dorne the entire time.

“That sounds good.” 

She smiled before turning back around.

After forty minutes they arrived at what Luke assumed was the hotel they had been staying at, although the place looked more like the mausoleum than a place where people spend their nights.

The building was enormous, there was a long marble runway, on each side of the runway were multiple small water fountains that were sculpted into the shape of spears. The runway led to the entrance which was enshrouded by greenery with two statues of what looked to be naked men on each side of the revolving door.

Very queer indeed

Daemon slowed down the car as they pulled up to the entrance where a man in a red and yellow vest was waiting with his hand held over his chest with the other behind his back. He walked up to the car as Daemon let down the window.

“Good evening Mr. Lannister, entrance or exit parking?” He asked.

“Exit.” Daemon said as he handed him a small black card covered in gold lines. The man’s grin widened as he pulled his other arm from around his back revealing a handheld carder.

Damn, that was quick.

“Time to get out everyone!” Alicent exclaimed cheerfully. 

As they got out Luke noticed Harwin’s car wasn’t behind them. “Where’s the big guy?” He asked Alicent.

“They stopped for McDonalds about ten minutes ago.” Jace answered, seemingly annoyed.

“How do you know that?” The attorney questioned; nose scrunched up in confusion.

“He sent me a picture.” Jace held up his phone to show a high quality picture of Joffrey with a cheeseburger in hand with mustard smeared all over his lips. 

Luke choked on his own spit at the image, Joffrey might as well just text his brother a picture of his middle finger while he was at it. Alicent giggled and ruffled Jace’s hair. “Don’t be upset, we’ll order room service.” 

He shrugged his shoulders, groaning out an inaudible response as he turned his phone off. 

Luke’s eyes widened as they walked into the hotel. The lobby was all white, the floors and walls alike were stone with black and yellow swirls. The floor was engraved with the symbols of house Tyrell and Martell alike in their respective colors. 

Two giant glass chandeliers sparkled as they lightly swayed back and forth.  

Bright light shone down on Luke, it felt warm. He looked up to see the ceiling was glass and the very top was uncovered, letting the bright sunshine pour down. 

Ahead was a grand double staircase leading to the second floor which from Luke could see was decorated with paintings.

Luke made sure to stick by Alicent as they moved through the room towards the stairs. Few people were in the lobby, mostly sitting on the huge, very expensive looking couches. They were dressed in leather and fur, their jewelry practically shining under the sunlight coming through from the roof. 

He saw diamond earrings, gold watches and suitcases covered in designer symbols. Being face to face with such obvious wealth made Luke feel more inadequate than he ever had. Yes, Alicent technically dressed similarly to these people, but it was different.

Her obvious wealth never came off as intimidating, maybe it was because of her personality but he never really paid it much mind aside from ogling at what shoes she wore from time to time.

With Rhaenyra and Daemon, he was always too worried about their intentions to truly focus on how loaded they were. But here it felt as though everyone present was looking at him with judgmental eyes, seeing past the nice suit and clearly into the piss poor aura vibrating off of him. As if they could sense Luke’s idea of luxury was ordering an extra basket of biscuits at Red Lobster.

He turned to Jace. At first glance he looked to be dressed in average everyday clothes, that is until you actually focused and noticed the eight hundred dollar pair of beat up Rick Owens on his feet.

Alicent could feel the nervousness from Luke, she gently grabbed his hand as they walked up the stairs. 

Rhaenyra caught the gesture from the corner of her eye and gave him a worried glance. She looked as though she wanted to say something, but she sighed and decided against it. The woman began to scratch at her wrist, when Daemon noticed he grabbed her hand and rubbed it with care.

“So, I was thinking of ordering room service and discussing our plans going forward. We aren’t scheduled to check out until tomorrow morning so that gives us plenty of time.” Rhaenyra said.

“That sounds good, it’s been a long day.” Alicent agreed.

“You're staying here?” Luke asked, starting to become confused at the situation at hand. Not only was Alicent apparently not going anywhere anytime soon but they would be staying here for the night. Where the hell was he supposed to sleep?

“Yes, my room is a few doors down from theirs.” She answered.

Jace, possibly sensing his confusion, nudged Luke. “You can stay in my room. I have a double suite so you can have your own space.” 

“A double suite?” He had no idea what the hell that meant. Maybe he was just stupid.

More like poor.

“There’s two rooms in one, it’s sort of like a small apartment.” He shrugged.

“Oh, alright, why not.” He agreed plainly as if the fact that the guy had just compared his room to an entire fucking apartment like it was no big deal didn’t leave him feeling like a damn peasent. Luke felt he was going to develop a deep inferiority complex quite soon.

“Let’s go.” Jace said with a small smile.

Luke looked to Alicent, almost asking for permission to leave. She laughed and let go of his hand, Rhaenyra smiled and told him to come back soon.

Luke followed Jace down the hall to the left, stopping in front of room 13. “Check this out.” Jace said excitedly as he reached into his pocket taking out a key.

As he opened the door Luke’s mouth went agape. Jace must’ve never stepped foot in an apartment in his life, never mind a small one if this is what he compared it to.

The suite was even bigger than Luke imagined it would be, the walls were suede, and the floors were mahogany hardwood. Though he had on shoes he could feel the warmth from the floors on the soles of his feet.

The room had a huge window that took up the entirety of the wall facing the frontside of the hotel, he could see everything from miles away as he got closer. A couch sat in the middle of the room, it curved into the shape of an open circle and had a round ottoman sitting in the middle, fitting together like a puzzle piece.

There were mirrors everywhere he turned, it felt like he was in a funhouse.

To the left was a kitchenette that was almost the size of an actual kitchen, old boxes of pizza and empty beer cans sat on the marble counters collecting dust.

“Damn.” He breathed.

Jace laughed. “If you think that’s nice, come check out my room. Have you ever slept in a waterbed before? I’m talking a throwback 70’s style one.”

Luke didn’t need to think twice, he followed Jace down the hall instantly. When the older boy opened the door he was hit by the strong scent of eggs. Luke put his hand over his nose, he hated the smell of eggs, he barely ate them and when he did, he quickly became disgusted when it settled in his mind that he was actually eating them.

His eyes quickly landed on the man lying on Jace’s bed with a big plate of what looked to be deviled eggs. The man’s hair was strawberry blonde, cut short and swept to the side with heavy amounts of gel. He was wearing an oversized black t-shirt with a polar bear on the front with dark gray shorts and no shoes, feet conveniently on one of Jace’s pillows.

His eyes were closed, humming while stuffing his face full of mayo filled eggs. The man was clearly in his own little world.

It would’ve been funny had Luke known who the fuck he was.

“What the hell are you doing in here?” Jace sneered, barging across the room.

The man’s eyes snapped open. He smiled, toothy and packed full of eggs. “My dear nephew, what do I owe the pleasure?” He said, words coming out muffled. His arms opened for an embrace but was met with the opposite. Jace took hold of his shirt and pulled him forward, seething in his face.

“What do I owe the pleasure? This is my room. Why are you here!”

The man looked away as he mumbled something under his breath. 

A look of confusion takes over Jace’s features. “What?”

“I said that I lost my room key.” The blonde sighed pathetically, slightly slumped over like a deflated balloon.

“That doesn't explain how you got in here.” Luke cut in. He didn’t want to get involved in their argument but he wanted the line of questioning to speed up so he could get a chance to test out the bed. 

The Blonde whipped his gaze over to him, just now noticing his presence. He looked him up and down with eyes full of wonder. “Look at what we have here. You’re Luke right?” He asked with his head turned to the side and an amused grin spread on his lips.

“Mhm.” He mumbled, he could tell the man already knew who he was.

He wiped his mouth with his wrist then wiped the residue on the bed before standing. Jace yelled out in horror but the man paid him no mind.

He walked over to Luke with his hands placed on his hips. He circled him, giving himself a full 360 from his hair all the way down to his feet. Every couple of seconds he would let out an amused laugh or an interested hum. 

This encounter was definitely going into his top ten most weird moments.

“Stop it, now you’re the one being a creep.” Jace shouted sternly.

“What’s so creepy about wanting to get a good look?” He shrugged.

“Your wording is doing you no favors.” Luke advised, this guy genuinely seemed to be an idiot and didn't see how his words could be badly interpreted.

He hummed and scratched his nonexistent beard. “You're probably right. Wanna start over?”

Luke raised an eyebrow. 

He smiled with all teeth, rocking side to side excitedly. “I’m Aegon, Alicent’s son. Behind my mom I’m literally the smartest person here so if you need anything I’ll likely be your guy.”

Jace scoffed and he picked up egg crumbs out of the bedsheets.

“Your Aegon?” Luke asked, confusion marred all over his face. 

Joffrey said Aegon was their uncle, but he couldn’t look any less similar to them. If anything, he favored Rhaenyra, looking as though he could be her brother.

As he thought it over he remembered that one of Rhaenyra and Daemon’s kids was named Aegon, but wasn’t he a pre-teen or something?

They were from King’s Landing, maybe the name was more popular in that part of the country, like how so many women and girls in Dorne were named Margaery.

Luke decided to go with that explanation, it was easier than giving himself a potential stroke from this confusing ass family tree.

“Yes, that's what I just said, did I not?” 

Luke eyed the man down. “Be a pissy little bitch with someone else, I was just asking a question.” 

This was already coming off to a bad start.

This seemed to shock Aegon, he frowned and held up his hands defensively. “Just fooling around with you, I meant no harm.”

Luke didn’t reply, instead choosing to walk around the room. In the middle of the floor were two open suitcases, one filled with clothes and shoes while the other with electronics. Luke spotted an Ipad, computer and a PlayStation remote.

“You wanna play COD? I bought the latest one a few days ago.” Aegon asked, he clearly couldn’t take the hint that Luke didn’t want to be bothered.

“With the money you took from my wallet.” Jace interrupted as he threw the sheets off the bed, grunting in irritation and muttering something under his breath about filthy people. 

Aegon gestured to the brunette. “Just so you know that guy is a real bitch here.”

“Doesn’t Hel keep an extra key for everyone’s room? Go ask her for yours.” Jace growled.

Aegon sucked his teeth and put his hands on his hips. “She went to the park to catch Dorne Beetles or something like that. Probably won’t be back in hours.”

Catching beetles?

This led to Jace calling Aegon a dumbass which turned into the beginning of a screaming match. Luke couldn’t take it anymore, both of these idiots were going to give him another brain bleed if he had to listen to their shit for another second.

“I’m going to go find Alicent.” He said quietly, walking towards the door with a slight limp, Gods, he couldn’t wait to get these bandages off, they were irritating his knee from all the walking he had been doing. Maybe he did still need the crutches. 

He sighed, it was too late for that now, he’d given them to Doctor Jackie.

Jace looked at Luke. “I’ll come with you. We were supposed to order room service anyway.” 

Luke shrugged, he didn’t care as long as he didn’t have to hear anymore whining.

“Aww, I want to go.” Aegon blurted, rushing to follow both boys’ out of the room.

As they approached the spouse’s room loud voices could be heard flowing throughout the hallway from their door, Luke could make out Alicent’s voice in the commotion. It didn't sound like any argument he had ever been privy to, there was no cursing or sounds of glass breaking. It was more along the lines of a bunch of people trying to talk all at once. 

Aegon knocked on the door, continuing to knock when he received no answer, even taking to creating a beat on the wood to catch the group's attention. When Jace told him to cut it out he knocked even harder, now humming a melody.

In less than fifteen minutes Aegon had proven himself to be loud, brash, and a bit clueless. He sort of reminded Luke of Cecil in a less charming sort of way.

His stomach churned as his thoughts wandered over to his friend, it hadn’t even been a full day and he already missed him terribly. Was he home already? He wonders if Olenna made him a home cooked meal. The pink haired boy had talked about her cooking skills a few times before, claiming she made the best sweet tarts in the country.

He chuckled at the image; he hopes Cecil is elbows deep in all the pastries he could ever desire.

The voices eventually stopped as the sound of loud footsteps stomped towards the door. It opened quickly revealing a tall man with dirty blonde hair, similar to Aegon’s and wide blue eyes. His jaw was clenched, and his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance.

Did someone piss in a cup and tell him it was lemonade?

He opened his mouth, presumably to yell at Aegon when he noticed Luke standing beside Jace. All of a sudden, his jaw relaxed allowing his mouth to slightly open, his eyes glazed over as if he’d fallen into a trance. 

The stranger’s eyes were shaking as he continued to stare, that's when Luke noticed only one of his eyes was moving, the other was frozen almost as if it were dead. His eyelid blinked slowly but the eye itself was as still as stone.

Jace cleared his throat to gain the man’s attention while slyly moving over to shield Luke. This seemed to pull the blonde out of his head. He opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water before he swallowed harshly, moving out of the way allowing for them to enter.

As they walked in Luke kept his eyes on the man, his hair was a mess, tasseled all over the place with a few flyaway strands falling in front of his face. His chest was going up and down in what he assumed was panic. Luke could tell he was trying to stop it from the way he poked his chest out as it suddenly relaxed. 

The blonde didn’t cease contact either as he let the door shut behind him, following them into the room.

Luke felt a pang of familiarity in his chest as he stared at the man, he was racking through his brain trying to remember where he’d seen him before now. His face was so distinct, long strong jaw with high cheekbones and a long-bumped nose. His lips were thin but had a slight pout, his cupid’s bow was extremely defined as well.

That wasn’t a face that could be lost in a crowd or mistaken for someone else, Luke knew him from somewhere, he felt it. He just couldn’t pinpoint from where he knew him from exactly.

Everyone remained silent as they watched the two stare at one another, the silence was almost deadly, the tension was thick enough to cut with a knife. A cleaver was probably the only type that could do the job.

Luke made his way over to the couch where the women sat staring just as intensely as the rest of the room. Alicent started to pick at the skin on her fingers, the only thing that stopped her from making herself bleed was Rhaenyra placing her own over them.

Daemon, who had been in the middle of packing his wife’s shoes, hadn't stopped his assignment but made sure to loom over to the scene every few seconds.

“Luke, this is my son Aemond.” Alicent answered, her voice was tight. “Aemond, this is the boy I was telling you about. Rhaenyra and Daemon will be fostering him for the time being.” She finished.

Luke nodded, he heard Alicent’s words but didn’t acknowledge them. “Have we met before?” 

He wanted to slap himself as the words escaped his mouth, he didn’t mean to ask but he couldn’t help it, his brain clearly had a habit of doing whatever it pleased without consulting him beforehand.

Jace had become tense while Aegon tried to cover up the gag of him choking on his own spit. Rhaenyra held Alicent’s hands even tighter, her own breaths becoming ragged. 

Aemond looked like a deer in headlights, his eyes were now fully wide while he clenched his fists. Luke’s eyes lowered to the black leather jacket the man had on with a plain black t-shirt underneath. 

That’s when it clicked. “He was in that picture with Nugget right?” Luke asked Alicent.

Aemond’s face went from alarmed to dejected, almost as if he was expecting a different answer.

Alicent pouted and stared at her son, sadness flashed through her brown orbs, but it disappeared too quickly for him to read into it. “Oh, yes I did show you that picture, didn't I?” She said. Her tone was less tense, almost relieved. But there was still a hint of something underneath he couldn’t point out.

Luke nodded; he was sure the man had been wearing that exact leather jacket in that picture. He remembered wanting to jump the guy’s bones when he first saw it. His sentiments haven’t changed. 

Aemond was attractive, like in a nineteenth century, barely surviving paperboy sort of way, it worked for him. It also helped that he was tall as fuck, only second to Harwin.

Aemond kept his gaze on Luke but remained silent.

Luke did the same.

“Aemond..” Alicent said, pushing her son to introduce himself to Luke properly.

He walked forward, holding out his hand. Luke’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline when he took it in his, Aemond’s hands were big, really big, making his own look like a childs in comparison. His hand was as cold as ice, veins popping out as he squeezed Luke’s.

“I’m Aemond.” He said absentmindedly, not caring to react to Aegon’s sudden bout of giggling.

Luke’s heart sped up at his voice, suddenly his ears began to ring loudly as if a static bomb had gone off in his head. He let go of Aemond’s hand and held onto his forehead as he felt his brain pound loudly in his head.

Rhaenyra touched his shoulder in worry, he saw her mouthing something from the side of his eye, however he couldn't make out what she was saying, her voice was drowned out by white noise.

“You’re wet bastard. Is it the rain, or did you piss yourself in fear?”

“Give me your eye, or I will take it, bastard!”

Luke groaned in pain as his headache worsened. Aemond went still, flinching as if he had been burned, looking around the room in worry. Alicent scooted closer to him and placed her hands on his cheeks attempting to get his attention. Rhaenyra did the same, holding onto his shoulders as panic marred her features.

Luke wasn’t certain but he was sure he could hear Jace and Aemond yelling at each other.

This caused Luke’s chest to become tight, there were way too many people touching and talking to him all at once. The amount of noise being made throughout the room only served to cause the static in his ears to buzz louder as the seconds passed. 

He couldn’t handle all the simulation at the same time, Luke was sure his brain was going to turn into mush if this went on any longer.

Suddenly the room went silent and the women were pulled away. Daemon came into Luke’s view, taking his hand gently and pulling him up, escorting him down the hall of the suite.

Luke wanted to rip his hand away and tell the man to never touch him again but the pain scorching through his head was too great to do much of anything other than moan in pain like a dying dog.

He opened a door and pushed Luke in, he shoved him towards the sink and turned on the water as he helped Luke bend down and gently splashed the boy’s face with the warm liquid, careful to not get any into his eyes or mouth.

“Breath boy, everything’s fine.”

The warm water and soft trickle of the faucet managed to relax him, his shoulders slumped as the static in his ears got quieter until it disappeared completely, leaving only the soft sound of water trickling from the faucet in its absence. 

He raised his face from the sink and stared at himself in the mirror, the tips of his hair were soaked with water, his eyelashes were clumped together, and droplets of water fell from his chin. His eyes were so red that if he didn’t know better he would think he had pink eye. Though his face was soaking wet his lips were dry and close to cracking, he licked his lips and left his mouth slightly open, allowing the water dripping from his upper face to fall into his mouth.

Daemon handed him a small towel.

“Thank you.” Luke said hesitantly as he reached behind himself to grab it, still reeling from everything that just happened. He didn’t know why the blonde’s voice set him off so badly, in front of everyone no less. Gods, there truly was something wrong with him.

Daemon sighed. “Cheer up kid, I get panic attacks all the damn time. No one here is going to judge you.” 

Daemon got panic attacks? What did a guy like him have to be so anxious about? He wasn’t a muscled giant like Harwin, but he had an aura that most people in their right mind had the sense not to mess with. 

Almost as if he had read Luke’s mind he chuckled darkly without humor, a haunted look deep in his eyes. “I’ve been through a lot of shit kid. Still haunts me till this day.”

Luke gulped, the man’s voice had gone small and raspy. He didn’t want to imagine whatever made a man like him panic and shake in fear like a lamb.

A small knock grabbed their attention. He looked over to see Alicent. “Is everything alright darling?” 

“Yea.”

She smiled and held her hand out. 

They walked back out to the main room hand in hand with Daemon trailing behind silently.

No one looked at him oddly nor did anyone take to asking him questions about his behavior. Everyone came off more on the concerned side rather than judgmental 

Aemond on the other hand was still looking at Luke, focused on him entirely as if he would fade into nothing if he looked away.

Luke couldn’t help but look back. Letting go of Alicent’s hand he took an empty spot on the large couch and played with his hands, not knowing what to do in the situation at hand. 

Aemond stood up and walked towards him. “Are you alright?” He whispered, as if talking any louder would set him off into another panic. 

Luke found himself looking right into the man’s gaze, particularly his unmoving eye. It was a completely different color than the other, an unreal shade of blue. Luke was sure he spotted small specks of silver surrounding his iris.

Contacts?

“I'm good.” 

He nodded, looking at the empty spot next to him but didn’t move. “Are you hungry? My brother was about to order room service.” He pointed to Aegon but didn’t take his eyes off Luke.

“Sounds good.” He spoke.

“There’s a menu-” Aemond’s sentence was cut off when the door opened. 

Harwin and Joffrey walked in, Harwin looked like he had just come back from fighting in a war while his son looked as happy as could be, slightly bouncing everytime he took a step. 

“Where were you guys? It's been hours.” Rhaenyra said as she rushed over to Joffrey.

Harwin flopped down on one of the many chairs and stretched his arms out. “Ask Joff, he’s the one that almost crashed the car.”

“What?” Alicent and Rhaenyra yelled.

“Ohhh, someone’s gonna be in trouble.” Aegon teased.

Joffrey rolled his eyes and sighed as the women began to bombard him with questions. Luke threw his legs over the couch and turned to look out of the large window, the sun was in the midst of setting. The sky was a beautiful mirage of purple and pink swirls, clouds illuminating with pale yellow light from the sun.

The last time he had seen the sky like this he was high off pain medication in the hospital. It was just as magnificent now as it was then.

He finally took off the coat of his suit and threw it across the arm of the couch, happy to be out of the constricting material.

The day had gone in a completely different direction than he was originally prepared for, everyone and everything blindsided him all at once. 

Luke looked back, Joffrey was still being scolded while Harwin and Daemon were mid conversation about something involving car repairs and Aegon was showing Jace something on his phone with a gleeful smile, from the way Jace’s face was pulled down in disgust it couldn’t have been anything good.

His eyes landed on Aemond who was looking at the room service menu rather intensely. 

Luke felt like a complete freak for continuing to study him but couldn’t stop. He felt as though the picture Alicent showed him all those weeks ago wasn’t the reason he recognized the man; it was something else, deeper than a dumb picture.

He wanted badly to figure it out.

But for now, he would continue to watch the colors of the afternoon sky turn darker until the moon made its presence known and the stars came out to shine.

Chapter Text

The view from outside of the hotel was even more magnificent once night began to fall. The sky was blood orange, slowly fading into a muddy dark blue. Though the number of stars up above were little to none the city lights made up for it. 

Luke could see the hotel water fountains from down below, now lit up with red and yellow lights, causing the water to look as though it was sparkling. He ached to reach out and feel the cool liquid run in between his fingers.

People had tried to initiate conversation with Luke, mostly Jace and Aegon. Filing him in on the latest events and celebrity blowouts he missed while locked up. However, Luke was too worn out from the day to give them any more than a simple hum or short obviously uninterested comment. He didn’t want to be mean, they were just trying to get to know him, something very few people had gone out of their way to do. He just didn’t have the energy to engage, his bandaged knee was pulsing from all of his unsupported walking and the soles of his feet were tender to the touch.

The last thing he wanted to do was talk about Aaron Taylor Johnson cheating on his old ass wife, though he was happy for the man. It was about time he escaped that weird woman’s clutch.

Eventually, Jace and Aegon received the message and went back to whatever the hell they were doing in the background.

Luke’s previous panic attack was still the main thing on his mind. Normally they were set off by his dreams or unexpected touch. Hell, there had even been a few intense instances where all it took to make Luke go haywire was a bout of intense yelling. Aemond’s voice had been so calm, his tone incredibly relaxed despite his own obvious nervousness. 

The man hadn’t even said anything besides his own name, yet that was all it took for Luke’s mind to go numb. When he closed his eyes and focused hard enough he could still hear the static and white nose. It had been electrifying, as if a thousand tiny volts had shot straight through his brain.

Luke looked back to Aemond who was having a private conversation with Alicent on the other side of the room. Her fingers rubbing circles on his shoulders as they talked in hushed whispers. Aemond’s nose was flared, Luke could almost see the hot air shoot out as he let out a deep breath while biting his trembling bottom lip.

Even though he’d only been around the man for a few hours and they exchanged less than ten words in total, Luke felt a strange pull towards him. A need to never take his eyes away, study him until he couldn't see straight.

In the past hours Luke sneakily stole quick glances, taking in his fill as Aemond walked in and out of the room, typed on his phone or stared blankly into the distance, seemingly lost in his head. Luke would look for a few moments, taking in every detail he could until Aemond eventually felt his gaze and turned to stare back. And by then Luke had already pointed his attention elsewhere.

He racked through his mind for any encounter he could’ve potentially had with the blonde in the past. A previously shared foster home was obviously out of the equation. Not only was the thought of Alicent having one of her kids taken from her laughable, but the guy reeked like a pampered trust fund kid.

Maybe they had a heated argument in Walmart he forgot about, or a drunken hookup in the alley of one of the clubs Luke used to frequent as a freshman.

He crossed the last one out of his head as soon as it came to mind, Luke’s sure he would’ve immediately remembered fucking the guy if they had hooked up. Who wouldn’t?

God’s, it was driving him crazy.

Luke yawned, all he wanted to do was close his eyes and escape the reality presented before him. The calming waves and salty shore of his dreams called out to him with open arms. He wanted to feel the sand between his toes and chuckle as the small crab he always encountered nipped at his chubby fingers.

But no matter how much he desired rest, he would die before he let himself fall into such a vulnerable position around so many strangers, regardless of whether or not Alicent would protect him. Every time he felt his eyes become heavy as sleep threatened to take over he pinched the skin on his finger so hard he was sure there would be bruising later on.

How he would explain the bruised digits to Alicent once she eventually noticed them was a problem he would deal with later.

Hopefully she would be too preoccupied with her kids to care.

“Are you tired darling?” Alicent asked from across the room. An hour and a half had gone by and she was still explaining to Joffrey the true dangers of the road and how he needed to be careful. Much to her dismay, her words, no matter how truthful were falling on deaf ears.

Apparently, the little shit begged Harwin to let him drive to the hotel after they left Mcdonalds, reasoning that it was only a fifteen minute drive away and the intersections weren’t as crowded as usual. Somewhere in between them pulling off from the restaurant’s parking lot and catching the first red light, Joffrey had run into a street sign head on.

Either the kid needed glasses or he was just that unaware of his surroundings. The chances of it being the former or the latter were about the same.

“It is getting a bit late isn’t it? We still have so much to do.” Rhaenyra said worryingly, turning to Luke as she puckered her lips. 

The woman had a pair of bright yellow pumps in her hand, still in the process of packing her things. Luke had never seen so many shoes in his lifetime, from what he saw she had two entire bag’s worth. Rhaenyra could open a store selling her shoes second hand and there would be enough retail to last for months.

“It isn’t even ten o'clock yet.” Aegon cut in, looking at both women as if they had grown two heads. 

“So what? It’s been a long day” Jace scoffed with his eyebrows furrowed as he helped Daemon pack up the electronics that had been scattered across the room. The last time Luke had seen so many devices in one setting he was at the apple store. 

“We haven’t even had dinner yet!” Aegon argued, hands thrown up in the air.

Joffrey's eyes lit up at the mention of food. Luke found it funny considering that his appetite was what led him to being threatened with an indefinite grounding in the first place. Luke called bullshit at the threat though, rich people didn’t punish their kids accordingly. At most he would have one of his Ipads taken away for a day or two before getting them back and eventually doing the same thing over again.

Luke knew because that’s the exact thing he would do if he were in the kid’s position.

“He’s right, I’m hungry too. Ohh, can we have chocolate mousse?” 

“No.” Harwin growled. The man looked like he had been in a minor car crash, which Luke supposes is an accurate description taking the current situation into consideration that he had been.

Joffrey pouted and folded his arms, laying back against the headboard of the bed making a hard thump. “Ow.” He whimpered, twisting his arm behind himself to rub his back.

Aegon laughed and pointed at the younger boy.

Aemond, who had been sitting in the corner observing the room just as Luke had, suddenly stood up and walked over to him. Though everyone resumed their business as usual Luke could tell this had caught their attention as they watched slyly from the corners of their eyes.

He gestured towards the empty seat next to Luke with the same dinner menu in hand. “Do you mind if I sit here?”

Luke felt as though all of the saliva in his mouth had dried out, he remained silent for a few moments, only blinking at the man in front of him. “Do whatever you want.” He said plainly, hoping that his voice wasn’t dripping with the nervousness he felt.  

“Hmm.” Aemond grunted as he took his place next to Luke, sitting slightly hunched over with his folded hands hovering over his lap.

Luke brought his legs up, holding onto his knees as they pressed up against his chest. The longer Aemond stared the more conscious he became of himself. He felt like he had been dunked into a pool of ice water under the man’s gaze. In any other instance he would’ve called out Aemond’s gawking, no matter how hypocritical. But he couldn't, most of his usual bite had been sucked out of him.

Fuck, what was happening to him?

Aemond cleared his throat. “You can go to bed if you wish. You’re not missing out on anything important.”

Luke raised an eyebrow. That was the lamest conversation starter he’s heard in a minute. “You came over here to tell me to go to bed, really?” 

Aemond licked his lips and shrugged. “Not actually, I suppose I wanted a do over with our first introduction. It didn’t go as smoothly as I hoped it would.” 

“You had high hopes for our first meeting?” Luke questioned in a disbelieving tone. 

Aemond nodded curtly. “I did, my mother is very fond of you. She and Rhaenyra have spent a lot of time preparing everyone for your arrival in the past few weeks. I didn’t want anything to go wrong, a task I’m assuming I failed on the first try.” 

Hearing that Alicent’s fondness for him spread into her everyday life so much so that she’d been doing her best to make sure that even her kids were on their best behavior made his chest feel warm and tingly. He knew she cared for him, but getting reassurance from her son made it all the more real.

However, the feeling in his chest turned cold once he remembered their first encounter, how she thought her eyes had deceived her by spouting the image of Rhaenyra’s deceased son.

Was it truly Luke who Alicent had put her love into, or the faded image of a boy that had long been dead and gone.

Would she still love him once this bullshit fostering eventually fell through the ground? 

Would she still want to fight for him when inevitably directs his bottled up anger on her when he’s in a shit mood? Or defend him when he goes days without wanting to see or talk to anyone and sulks in his room as he replays memories of the days when he was with Owen? 

Caring for him was hard work and usually came with nothing in return except a headache. 

Aemond swallowed thickly, turning his body to face Luke. “I’m Aemond Tully, Alicent’s son.” He introduced himself for the second time. He didn’t hold his hand out this time around, probably too afraid the results would be the same as last time.

Luke couldn’t help but chuckle. If only he knew his touch was the last thing Luke was worried about. 

“Luke Rivers, her current assignment.” He replied.

Shock flew across his features. “It really is Rivers, huh?” He huffed, eyes darting around Luke's face.

“Will that be a problem for you?” Luke asked, slightly leaning in.

Though the belief was outdated, there were still a few select groups that held the idea that bastards were evil incarnate, spoils on the rest of the world that shouldn't exist. These people were few and far in between, acting as an incredibly loud minority. Usually spreading their hate through niche religious groups or online radical forums that were basically knock offs of Reddit since Reddit themselves banned them due to their anti-hate policy. 

Being in the system for the majority of his life, Luke had encountered way more of those assholes than he was comfortable with. For some odd reason there were a fuck ton of them running group homes and becoming foster center counselors. 

Likely because most children in the system are bastards, thrown away like last week's trash. And not only was Luke a bastard, but his mother was one too.  A bastard born to a bastard, a double whammy in their eyes.

It boiled Luke’s blood. The middle ages have long passed, bastards being less than was an extremely controversial take that was often scoffed at by most. He didn’t understand how being born to a couple that said ‘I do’ before they fucked made one person more valuable than another. But then again, he possessed critical thinking skills. 

Well…more than most anyhow.

Aemond’s lips slowly curled up with a tiny hint of amusement, eyes wide and focused on Luke as if he was the only thing in the room. Despite the fact that they were two feet apart Luke could tell his pupil had dilated. “None whatsoever.” 

“Good, let’s keep that way.” Luke breathed; a slight warning hidden beneath his words. The last thing he wanted to do was start trouble, so would make sure none happened. The plan was full proof in his opinion. 

His loose threat only served to amuse Aemond even further, the blonde now sporting a grin that spread from ear to ear. Luke could practically see the gears turning in his head as Aemond made sure to hold eye contact with him. A challenge perhaps?

“I’m back!” A voice Luke didn’t recognize shouted from across the room.

He whipped his head around to see a girl with golden hair hugging Alicent. She didn’t look familiar, but her blonde mane was all he needed to see to know this was the daughter Alicent had told him about. 

“Where have you been the whole day? You literally missed everything.” Joffrey asked, peeking up from his phone.

“You did, the little guy fucked up Harwin’s car.” Aegon spilled.

“Why are we still talking about this? It’s been hours.” Joffrey complained, clearly annoyed. 

Harwin slapped his son on the back of his head as he walked past him. “You need to shut up before you dig yourself into an even bigger hole. Don’t think we’re done with this conversation just yet.” 

Harwin opened his arms wide and hugged the girl. “How was your day, Hel?”

“Amazing, I was able to find eight specimens so I should be able to run a few tests once we get back tomorrow.” She says happily as she holds up a small clear container to Harwin's face. The box is filled with bugs crawling around in an attempt to escape from their plastic prison. 

Harwin smiles. “That’s very nice.”

“You should’ve invited me; I could have caught even more.” Joffrey spoke.

“You volunteered to go to the hearing with us, remember?” Jace reminded the boy.

Joffrey puckered his lips. “Oh yea.”

Jace shook his head and turned his attention to the girl, fed up with his brother's ditziness. “I hope you had fun. Just make sure the lid is sealed this time alright? I can’t handle cleaning bugs out of my suitcase again.”

Rhaenyra hummed. “They do look like interesting creatures. Your project will go amazingly, I’m positive.”

The girl smiled, beaming with joy at the praise. Her gaze falls across the room landing on Luke, her smile fading as she takes him in. 

Her hands begin to shake, causing her bugs to scatter up and down the side walls of their new home in panic. She looks at Luke with a deep questioning, whispering something under her breath that he couldn’t make out. Her stare eventually turns to Aemond who visibly gulped.

Alicent touched her cheek gently. “Sweetheart don’t be nervous. This is Luke. Luke, this is my daughter Helaena.”

Luke gave a small wave at the frightened girl. “Hey.” He said cautiously, doing his best to not make her anymore weary than she seemed. His presence clearly upset her, was she against him being her?

Helaena nodded. “Hello, would you like to hear about my specimens?” She asked, already walking towards him before he could give an answer.

“I don’t really-” Luke tries to decline, however, before he could get his words out Helaena had already grabbed Aemond by his jacket and pulled him up like he weighed next to nothing, effectively removing him from the seat and taking his place.

Aegon bursts out laughing while Jace is doing his best to hold back from doing the same.

She scoots the chair closer to him and places the box on her lap. “These are Dornish beetles, they’re a native species to Dorne and are notorious for their shells that change color with the climate.” She picked up the box and pointed to one of the bugs that was sitting in the corner of the container. “I don’t know if you can see because the lighting in here isn’t that great, but its shell has a tint of silvery blue running up and down its back since we’re in winter. Had we been in the summertime this little guy’s shell would’ve been deep orange or red if he was a female.”

What does she mean ’if he was a female’? Did she check its junk? 

How can you even tell?

Luke had no clue what to say so he simply smiled and nodded at her explanation. He was absolutely terrified as she kept bringing the insects closer and closer to his face, not noticing that he was extremely uncomfortable. The little things looked far too similar to cockroaches in his opinion, their round bodies and tiny legs that moved creepily made his skin itch. 

He scratched his arm as his face scrunched up, if he paid any closer attention to the things he was going to take the box and throw the box across the room. An action he should refrain from if he wanted somewhere to sleep tonight.

Aemond put his hand on the top of the box and eased it away from Luke. “That’s enough Hel. I know you’re excited but not everyone is comfortable with bugs.”

Helaena’s cheeks flushed pink in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I got a bit excited.”

Her dejected look made Luke feel like an asshole, her excitement fizzed out like a candle that had been splashed with water, shoulders slumped as a sad smile replaced the once cheesy grin. The girl reminded him a lot of a boy he used to eat lunch with in middle school. 

It’s been so long that Luke had forgotten the wide eyed boy's name. Was it Jonas? Joel? 

He was smaller than the other boys their age and skinny as a stick, something he and Luke had in common. Just as Alicent said Helaena had a thing for bugs, the boy he used to join for his daily meal had a fixation on dinosaurs. 

Luke thought it was interesting, even though both animals were the mirrored versions of one another most people felt dinosaurs were a cheap version of dragons, not as exciting nor magical in any sense. If you presented two movie scripts involving both creatures to one of Hollywood’s many coked up directors, the chances were they were going to go the dragon route. It’s simply what people wanted to see.

Not that kid though, everything from his lunch box to his shoes were covered in imagery of small dinosaurs. He was always telling Luke weird facts about the animals and how each different species evolved before they went extinct.

The boy never gave Luke the time to respond to his ramblings, continuously going on and on without stopping for their entire lunch period before abruptly standing up and leaving with a small smile painted on his thin lips without a second glance once the bell rang.

Back then Luke had found it annoying, now he wishes he could go back and listen to the boy chattering one more time.

“Don’t be sorry, they sound…cool.” He tried to reassure her.

She nodded but didn’t make an attempt to show him her bugs again, passing the insects off to Aemond. She pulled her legs up to sit criss-cross and folded her hands in her lap. “I’m Helaena.”

“I’ve heard.”

All his conversations today have been short and redundant as hell, he had repeated the same words so many times he was starting to go crazy.

Though the current conversation was no different, Helaena seemed to be the least polished person he’s met yet. Her palms were red with some sort of dye and her fingernails were caked in dirt. She wore a beat up sweatsuit that was about three times bigger than it should’ve been, her hair was up in a ratty bun and specks of dirt covered her face and neck.

I guess those beetles weren’t easy to find. 

From the other side of the room Aegon sighed and stood up. “Ok this is getting redundant, how about we all come up with a new topic of conversation? Something interesting maybe? He announced.

Joffrey raised an eyebrow as he looked at the older man sideways.

Aegon saw this and turned to the brunette. “What? Is there something on my face” He touched around his face with a frown.

Joffrey shrugged his shoulders “No, I’m just surprised you know what redundant means is all.”

Before the two get into an argument, Rhaenyra cut in. “How about we all get to know each other a little at dinner? It's still early and the dining hall doesn't close until midnight, so we should go there instead of getting room service. Aemond, do you know what they’re serving tonight?”

Aemond, who had been clutching onto the container of his sister's bugs rather hard, looked up in confusion. When he noticed Rhaenyra staring at him he cleared his throat. “Ribeye cap and lobster are the main courses for tonight.” 

“What the fuck is a ribeye cap?” Luke inquired. He knew that ribeye was a kind of steak, he wasn’t that damn stupid. But the cap part was what threw him off.

Daemon chuckled while Aemond’s eyebrows shot to his forehead. “A prime cut of steak. It goes well with their grilled asparagus.”

Luke nodded, he guessed that sounded good, but he’d rather have a burger. 

“Alright then, let’s be on our way, shall we?” Aegon smiled, grabbing Jace’s arm and heading for the door, ignoring the guy screaming profanities at him on the way out.

They just don’t stop, do they?

The dining hall was something out of a storybook.

The high ceiling was held up by a circle of gold and black columns which had the symbols of house Tyrell carved into them. The biggest chandelier Luke had ever seen was hanging in the middle, lit up by candlelight. Glass crystals hanging from the bottom of the fixture were sparkling so brightly it was almost like staring at the sun.

As they descended down the stairs Luke looked up to see there were two more levels to the room. Each floor was surrounded by black rails with green shrubs wrapped around them, making the room look less more serene.

Dozens of tables covered by gold and white cloth were spread across the room, small statues sat in the middle of the tables, matching the color of their respective cloth. Surprisingly the room was quite empty, the only people present outside of their group being the waiters and front door security.

“Quite a bit empty, isn’t it?” Aemond asked quietly behind him.

Luke turned and looked at the man. “Like a fucking ghost town.”

Aemond moved closer to Luke, now walking beside him. “You have a bit of a potty mouth, don’t you?”

Luke rolled his eyes, not bothering to respond to the comment.

As they made their way to the table Rhaenyra chose, Aemond opened his mouth, but before he could say anything Joffrey pushed the man away slightly. “Luke, come sit by me.” 

Luke chuckled at the boy's eagerness. He didn’t understand why he was so interested in being around him, but he wouldn’t ask questions, it was fun to watch the curly haired boy act like a fool. Luke ended up sitting between Joffrey and Alicent with Rhaenyra, Daemon and Harwin sitting across from them, while the others sat at the sides. Aegon kept close to Jace and Aemond with Helaena. 

Soon after they were seated a waiter came up to their table and introduced himself, asking what they would like to start off with. Rhaenyra asked for a few appetizers while Daemon sent for a bottle of wine as everyone figured out what they had a taste for. 

“I want the tenders.” Helaena told Aemond as she held her hand over his. 

“With French fries or mashed potatoes?” He asked.

“Either or, it doesn't matter.” Aemond nodded and put her menu back in the middle of the table. 

Luke’s face turned up in surprise, he was shocked to hear a place like this served finger food let alone something as simple as French fries. Maybe they would be covered in some kind of expensive sauce that only a small percentage of the population could afford in their lifetime.

Aegon loomed over Jace’s shoulder while the other tried to read the menu, much to his annoyance. “We should get that.” The blonde pointed.

“That looks disgusting.”

Aegon sighed. “You’re so boring, you never wanna try anything I want.”

Jace turned to Aegon. “I’d try if everything you recommended didn’t look like vomit.”

Joffrey looked over to the two with amusement shining in his gaze. “You do like gross looking food.”

Aegon opened his mouth in shock, tugging the menu out of Jace’s hand and shoving it over to Luke. “Does this look gross?”

Luke peered down at the item Aegon pointed to. It looked like some sort of thick pasta covered in green sauce with chunks of meat sprinkled on top. He couldn’t pronounce the name to save his life and the first ingredients listed that caught his attention were pork and avocado, a combination that sounded awful.

What were the chefs smoking back there?

“It looks like dog shit.” He spoke.

This caused most of the table to laugh but the only person Luke paid attention to was Aemond. He didn’t laugh, instead giving him a small smirk as Aegon started to refute the comment and accuse everyone of being tasteless bullies.

“What would you like to eat?” Alicent asked Luke as she shared her menu with him. When he didn’t answer Alicent put her arm over his shoulder and allowed him to huddle closer to her. She smelled like lilacs; the scent was soothing.

“You can have anything you wish for, okay? Nothing is off limits.”

He scratched his neck. “I’ll have the steak I guess.”

“The ribeye?”

Luke sighed; he had never been so stressed out doing something as simple as ordering food. “Yea, that one.”

Alicent frowned but put his order in anyway.

The waiter returned with a bottle of red wine and four glasses, passing them off to the adults before taking everyone's order. As Daemon leaned over to pour the expensive drink into Alicent’s glass while Rhaenyra talked to the server, Aegon bit his lip and began to softly tap his fingers against the table. Though the blonde’s smile never faded, his face had become stiff. He looked more worried than relaxed as he had the entire day. Jace looked at the blonde with worry and whispered in his ear.

It was the calmest Jace had been with him since Luke was first introduced to the chaotic man.

Alicent noticed this and told Daemon she didn’t want any, but Aegon shook his head motioning for the older man to continue. “It’s fine mom, enjoy your drink.”

Alicent nodded sadly and allowed Daemon to pour the wine.

Aemond turned to his brother with a look Luke couldn’t pinpoint, sorrow? “Don’t be so upset brother, it tastes horrible anyway.” He attempted to break the tension.

“Like you would know, you aren’t even old enough to drink yet you big baby.” Aegon rolled his eyes as he took a bite out of a piece of bread.

Luke snapped his gaze towards Aemond. “How old are you?” he blurted; face twisted in confusion. He’s sure he heard wrong.

Aemond raised an eyebrow. “Nineteen.” He said slowly.

“Only?” 

Aegon spat his bread out onto his empty plate as he began to laugh hysterically, bending over as he clutched his arm over his stomach with Joffrey following behind.

Daemon spilled a few drops of his drink as Rhaenyra chuckled in his arms.

Aemond sucked his teeth, not even acknowledging the laughing from the others as he kept his eyes glued on Luke. “Very funny, little boy.”

“Considering we’re only a couple years apart I could call you the same.” Luke snarked. Reviling in the way Aemond’s eyes slightly widened as his nose flared. 

His gaze sharpened, bending his head down slightly “Touché.”  

Luke huffed.

Touché indeed.                                                      

Luke couldn’t sleep that night.

It was ridiculous, he’d spent the entire day yearning for rest, pinching every part of his body that he could reach without attracting the other’s attention in order to force himself to sober up from the sandman’s elusive influence. And now that the chance is finally in the palm of his hand, he can't for the life of him get his body to cooperate with his wishes.

He rolled over and pushed his head into the pillow.

Once dinner was over everyone went back to their respective rooms with a simple goodbye and confirmation they would meet up in the morning to leave. 

Luke remembers feeling Aemond’s burning gaze on his back as he left, it made his heart pump three times faster and his brain slowly start to pulsate. There was something about the man that made him want to hide but never fully disappear from his watching eye.

After Jace wished him a good rest he hurried to his room for the night. It looked similar to Jace’s, sans water bed and Aegon’s food crumbs. He wonders if the older boy’s bed sheets still smelled like mayo and feet, poor guy.

Once the door closed shut behind him Luke locked it, breathing a sigh of relief at finally having time to himself. He had been bombarded with meeting so many people at once that he couldn't tell up from down or who was who anymore. 

Everyone’s name was so damn similar that it was hard to keep up. He truly cares for Alicent, but the woman wasn’t creative in the least when it came to naming her kids. Aegon and Aemond were basically the same name, the only difference between the two was one extra letter.

Regardless, everyone had been nice. Making the effort to get to know Luke and involving him in their conversations even though it was clear he had nothing of importance to add.

Luke learned two very important things tonight. 

One, rich people food is fucking disgusting. The portions are small as hell and it always has some weird sauce dripped into a pattern on the plate or a colorful piece of garnish sprinkled on top as well as placed on the side for decoration that you're apparently not actually supposed to eat.

It was stupid as hell, food is meant to be eaten, not look pretty. 

Luke isn’t entirely ignorant, he understands that food can be a form of art and self-expression, simply there to be a centerpiece and garner attention. He’s watched a few episodes of Cake boss before, those cakes (if you could even call them that by that point) were mostly cardboard, plastic pipes and fondant with a few layers of buttercream icing. Those cakes looked so hard Luke was sure he could break someone’s window with it if he rolled a piece of it into a ball and threw it across a parking lot.

Those brides must’ve been paid actors because there’s no way they were happy with an inedible wedding cake. But even still, he didn’t ask for the steak to admire the grill marks on it or compliment the overworked chef about the way the asparagus was lined up in perfect rows, he ordered it to fill his stomach.

Maybe that was frowned upon in this sort of environment.

The menu was even dumber, instead of simply telling him what the meal consisted of it rambled on and on about what kind of farm the cows were raised on and the specific diet the farmers had the animals follow before they got turned into pieces of meat. Information that meant nothing because the food tasted like water and expensive air.

Maybe it was his low class tastebuds talking, but he would rather eat a greasy slice of pizza from a cheap, run down restaurant in the worst neighborhood the city had to offer instead of that expensive crap.

And the worst part of the whole dinner was Luke had to act like he enjoyed it.

Don’t get him wrong, Luke’s happy that he even got a chance to eat. In his lifetime he’s been sent to bed practically starving more often than not, whether those times were his choice or another's was a story for another time.  But in the grand scheme of things, his foster parents weren’t required to drop two hundred dollars on his meal, they could’ve easily given him scraps from their leftovers and called it a day.

He wondered when the ball was going to drop, it always did in the end. Usually when he thought things were going well too.

Luke groaned in frustration as he tossed and turned for the hundredth time.

The bed was more than comfortable, heaven in the form of a mattress if you were ok with blasphemy. The soft warm blankets wrapped around him are what he imagined reaching into the sky and touching a cloud felt like. The sheets were silk, not the fake shit you pass by in Target for $59.99 but the real deal. 

God’s it was like nothing he’d ever experienced before, there weren’t words to describe the sensation that rubbing his bare legs against the fabric felt like. If he were a weaker man this would’ve been all he needed to turn his faith in the God’s around.

Yet and still, the night continued but no rest came into play.

It pissed Luke off, in his last weeks at Hellhot he slept like a baby on top of his shitty mattress that felt like concrete covered in crumpled up newspaper with a thin sheet serving as his blanket and Blondie’s unbelievably loud snoring.

Maybe it was nerves.

He pulled himself up and looked out of the window. The sun was beginning to come out of hiding, illuminating the back of his curtains with soft yellow light. 

Luke stretched his arms as he yawned and threw the blankets off of himself, internally mourning the warm softness. He didn’t want to get up, he’d rather remain under the blankets until Alicent forced him out, but he saw no reason to. He couldn’t sleep to save his life and even if he did somehow manage to make it happen he would’ve been woken up soon anyway.

From what he remembers Daemon said their flight leaves around eight, since the sun was starting to make an appearance, it had to be somewhere around six thirty. That gave him enough time to shower and gather his thoughts.

As he walked into the bathroom the lights cut on automatically, he stripped out of the pajamas Jace let him borrow and threw himself into the steaming hot water.

A knock on their door stole Luke’s attention, he opened the door and was met with a smiling Rhaenyra. “Goodmorning, are you two ready to go?”

“Yep, everything’s set.” Jace assured.

“Good, now you both remember the seating arrangements, right?”

Luke nodded. “Me, Alicent, Daemon and you on jet one.”

“Me and the others on jet two.” Jace finished, reaching out to touch Luke’s shoulder but quickly took it back.

“Very good, let’s get going before Daemon yells at us for being tardy.”

Jace puckered his lips. “You mean yell at us? He never tells you off.” He whispered to himself as he closed the door behind him.

“What was that sweetheart?” Rhaenyra asked.

“Nothing.”

She smiled and allowed Luke to walk in front of her as they made their way to the car.

Because Joffrey was the worst driver Luke had ever met, the second half of their group was forced to take an uber to their port due to everyone being unable to fit in Daemon’s car all at once. 

The ride wasn’t exciting, everyone kept quiet for the most part, closing their eyes for a while until they made it to their destination. Daemon played some middle-aged man music that Luke didn’t recognize, but it sounded nice nonetheless.

Once they arrived at the jetport Luke almost lost his breath as he marveled at the aircraft in front of him.  

It was huge, clearly big enough for everyone to ride in at once. He didn’t understand why they had to take separate ones, but he kept his mouth shut. It was too early in the morning to ask questions anyway.

It made him ponder, how rich were the Lannister’s in the first place. Luke didn’t know much, but he could guess that private jets weren’t cheap. How could they afford such things on a lawyer and doctor’s salary?

Yes, delivering babies made good money he assumed, but not that damn much.

Luke chuckled, as his brain raked over the countless possibilities.

Maybe they’re in the mafia.

As they got settled in the craft Alicent fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow she laid on the couch, her long hair was tossed all over the seat and the little mascara she had applied was already smeared, her mouth was slightly open, and her tongue was peeking out. Luke wished he had a phone more than anything at the moment, feeling a need to keep the photos to mess with the attorney later on.

He breathed a sigh and leaned back into his seat, it was comfortable, way more comfortable than an airplane seat should be.

He could get used to this.

“Hey Luke.” Rhaenyra greeted as she and Daemon entered the jet. Daemon waved to Luke before kissing his wife on the cheek and heading to the pilots’ quarters. 

Rhaenyra sat across from him with a small smile, placing a medium sized box on the table and looked at him excitedly as she removed the covering revealing a pound cake with white glaze and whole lemon slices decorated on top.

“We never did have that slice of cake yesterday; I figured you would like to have some today with me.” She said, voice full of hope and eyes shining.

Luke looked at the desert then back to the woman in front of him, his new foster mother.

He leaned into the cake sitting in front of him, it smelled just as amazing as it looked. The glaze on top was hardened, causing a milky white color and the candied lemons were sprinkled in flakes of sugar.

“Yea, that sounds good. Do we have any plates?”

Rhaenyra’s mouth wobbled as if she was holding back a cry, she didn’t say anything, simply reaching into her bag and pulling out two plastic plates and utensils, placing one in front of him along with a fork.

“Let’s dig in, yes?” She laughed and she cut the first slice.

Luke laughed with her, maybe this flight wouldn’t be so bad.

Fifteen hours and an entire cake later they landed.

King’s Landing was like nothing like Luke imagined.

He’d seen pictures on social media, watched movies and trashy reality tv that was filmed from some of the biggest cities in the state. His favorite season of Gossip girl was literally filmed from the capital, but now that he was there in the flesh everything he’s seen second hand through screens paled in comparison.

The city was lit up so bright that it made the sky above look pitch black, even drowning out the sight of the stars. Surrounding them were buildings and skyscrapers so tall that Luke was sure they touched the clouds. Each and every building was lit up with a multitude of colors from electric blue to hot pink, covering the entire city in a purple glow. Planes flew amongst the birds as thousands of people made their way through the city looking to explore the night life.

Flashy cars speed through the streets faster than he could blink, leaving nothing but black smoke in their dust. 

As Luke looked out of the window, he saw a multitude of luxury stores and high end restaurants with lines going on for what seemed like miles. His jaw almost dropped when he noticed they passed the stadium last year's Super Bowl was held at the previous red light. 

Everywhere Luke turned there was a billboard playing an ad or announcing a local event. Groups of people with cameras walked by, sparking a picture of any and everything they could get a good view of.

Nothing felt real.

A part of him felt as though this was all a dream, a figment of his imagination he’d created to escape his shitty reality and soon he would wake in his drafty, shoe box sized room at Sydney’s place with nothing but a torn-up blanket to keep him warm.

Everything inside Luke hoped the God’s wouldn’t be as cruel to play such tricks on him.

Luke sighed and rested his head on his arm as he continued to watch the colorful streets pass.

Real or not, King’s Landing was truly a sight to behold.

Rhaenyra scooted closer to Luke, smiling at the fascination spread on her boy's face as he marveled at the sight spread out in front of him. Luke was so focused on the blinding lights and loud music that he didn’t take notice of the small beads of tears that welled up in the corner of the woman’s eyes.

She gripped her phone tight while clenching her other fist to stop herself from wrapping her arms around the young man and pulling him against her chest just as she did when he was a babe. Alicent had told them quite sternly that Luke wasn’t accepting of physical touch very often and that he and the others would have to earn his trust, be someone he wouldn’t shy away from.

She would do everything in her power to make sure she was that person.

Rhaenyra refused to let him slip through her fingers. 

She would hold him close and never let go.

She couldn’t fail again.

“Welcome home.” Rhaenyra breathed, trying her best to keep her voice from cracking as she held back the tears threatening to spill.

My sweet boy.

Chapter Text

December 18th, 2022, King’s Landing.

4 weeks prior.

“Do you have any questions?” He asked, as he unlocked the door.

The kid shook his head, not taking his eyes off his beaten up sneakers that he more than likely bought from the clearance rack at Walmart for the price of a McDouble.

Aemond sighed, he didn’t have time to sit around and decipher this kid’s signals because he was too shy to speak. He had been in a good mood this morning, something that was rare. 

Aemond woke up at his computer desk, apparently having fell asleep while studying for his upcoming exam and did his usual morning routine. As the blonde made his way downstairs for breakfast he was greeted with a sack of confetti to the face by Joffrey and Aegon. 

His initial reaction was anger, screaming at the duo for being an annoying pair of cunts that would end up in jail one day, referencing Joffrey more than Aegon. But when Helaena ran over to him and enveloped him a hug he took a moment to actually look around the room. Balloons were everywhere, tied to the chairs and floating to the ceiling. A comically large birthday card sat next to the table and adding the finishing touch, a happy birthday banner strung up on the wall above the fireplace. 

Everyone was seated at the table with a smile as they sang happy birthday. Aemond acted nonchalant as to avoid Aegon’s teasing as he made his wish over a stack of celebratory pancakes, blueberry with happy birthday written in whipped cream topped with three cherries, a small tradition of his.

Even Rhaena and Baela, who he had a sour relationship with, took the time to call him from Essos and wish him a good day.

A twinge of hope sparked in Aemond’s chest, mayhaps they were on the road to truly forgiving each other. Not for the good of their family but for themselves.

His mother wasn't present, away in Dorne for another potential case, but he knew she sent her love.

Little Viserys tried his best to trick Aemond into revealing his birthday wish, just as he had every year since the boy learned to talk, but only receiving a playful slap to the face in return. Viserys was still young, barely grasping a hold of what his memories truly meant. For him the memories and sudden flashes of violence and carnage were normal, he was none the wiser. Viserys was coming to at a slower pace then the rest of them had, but as he aged he would soon realize what everything truly meant. 

By that time he would figure out what Aemond’s wish was just as the rest of their family had.

Lucerys.

As per usual he didn’t receive any gifts, something he was grateful for much to his mother and Rhaenyra’s disapproval. 

The women showered them in gifts for any reason they could come up with. A birthday, Christmas, valentine’s day, a positive report card, what have you. It was nonsensical to say the least, there was no sane reason for Rhaenyra to buy Jace a cherry red Maybach because he won most likely to succeed in his twelfth-grade yearbook poll. He didn’t even have his license yet.

While Aemond denied the expensive presents the others took their own happily, rejoicing as if they didn’t buy half that kind of shit on their anyway. 

“This is the documentation library, professionally known as the archive. No more than two people are allowed access at a time and you must punch in every visit you make. If something is out of place, lost or destroyed then they’ll trace it back to whoever was present last and question them thoroughly.” Aemond informed as he took a pair of latex gloves out of his pocket, motioning for his trainee to follow his lead. 

The boy looked around the room in fascination, mouth agape as he took in the rows of books that soared to the sky and touched the ceiling. Almost dropping his notebook in awe when his gaze landed on the murals painted across the walls. 

Aemond couldn’t find it in himself to be annoyed by the kids’ reaction, he had one slightly similar the first time he stepped foot in the archive. Anyone would, there was over a hundred years of hidden art sitting in this room. As the mural stretched the style and underlying meaning of the painting changed dramatically. An obvious indicator that it had been added onto overtime, probably by numerous artists. Truly a wonder.

“Every book in here is over hundreds, even thousands of years old. They are extremely fragile, no matter what you touch it must be handled delicately with the utmost care.” Aemond relayed as he escorted the boy through the room.

Their archive is the most sacred place in St. Jon Museum, outranking the displays of found relics. Being in possession of crystallized dragon egg hands is phenomenal, but a written documentation of what dragons symbolize to the Targaryen’s means even more. Otherwise, the great treasures would be nothing more than a strange egg to these people.

“A simple tear or smudge of ink is all it takes for the knowledge stored here to be lost to history forever, do you understand?” He asked. 

The boy nodded as he clumsily struggled with putting on his own gloves. He looked like he was in the middle of a seizure, truly a pathetic sight. Part of Aemond wanted to help the boy but refrained, if the kid couldn’t so much as slip on a pair of gloves by himself then there was no question that he wasn’t the right person to handle such important pieces of Westeros history. 

The boy, Charlie, was it? Stuttered out an apprehensive yes. As he continued to struggle he looked as though he was dangerously close to soiling himself, out or nervousness or fear Aemond couldn’t tell. A combination of both was likely the correct answer.

“Follow me.” Aemond commanded, grunting in frustration when the trainee almost tripped over his own feet.

Training newcomers was work. Long, irritating, troublesome work.

There were usually two types. Ones that can’t keep their mouths shut, and others that didn’t know to speak up, much like Charles who was following behind him like a scared puppy. Aemond had a tough time figuring out which was worse to deal with. 

The loud mouths reminded him of his mom’s dog. Constantly yapping. Going on nonstop about everything under the sun except for the job at hand. From their life goals to how they spent their previous gap year, and a bunch of other shit he didn’t care to remember. On the opposite side of the spectrum were the quiet ones, shy and introverted with bad social skills, oftentimes had a hard time communicating.

The loudmouths got on his nerves, never giving him the chance to actually explain what the agenda for the day was. These types loved talking his ear off about what they learned during their time at KL technical or how they were confident they would have no trouble adjusting to their time as a trainee because they were at the top of their class, and we all know how accomplishing something like that is so hard.

Those annoying little cunts never lasted more than a week, much to Aemond’s cruel satisfaction.

It was always amusing to watch them slowly break down as reality set in that this career path was a world’s more complex than simply dusting off displays or categorizing old books. It took time, effort, and willingness to surrender to the fact that in reality none of the time you spent in the gifted program of your high school meant anything, and you knew nothing.

You had to give up your confidence and cockiness at the door and go into it as if you were learning everything from scratch, it was the only way it wouldn’t break your will to survive in this field.

Aemond had learned that lesson the hard way when an older, soon to be colleague humiliated him after he attempted to correct the man on his pronunciation of a word in high Valyrian. The older man laughed in Aemond’s face and told him he was the one who needed to brush up on his knowledge of the ancient language.

Aemond scoffed at the man, if anyone knew how to properly speak high Valyrian it was him. He was one of the few people living that had learned the language straight from the mouths of the dragon keepers themselves. 

Aemond spent countless hours of his youth focused on his studies, making sure he was as well acquainted with his Valyrian heritage as possible. Especially since he had few people willing to learn along with him. Aegon was too busy drowning himself in his cups and sticking his cock in anything that possessed a warm wet hole. Whereas Helaena was far too disconnected to properly focus and digest such complex topics.

Aemond would be suspended in piles of books for days on end, from morning, evening to night. To have his understanding of Valyrian questioned was enough to make him considerably upset.

So when he stormed home after his shift ended later than normal due to an influx of storage transports, Aemond ranted to the only people who had been awake at the time. Daemon and Harwin. 

The older men were lounging in the family room in nothing but their robes as they slowly sipped on scotch. Aemond could tell from the love bites and scratch marks running up and down their necks plus the visible parts of their backs, in addition to the pleased expression plastered across their faces that Rhaenyra and Laena had worn the pair out.

The fools looked like cats who got the cream. Shameless, all of them. 

At least the women had the decency to remain in their room.

Aemond sat next to the pair, too angered to give a shit about their unabashed state and released every bit of pent up aggression from his colleague's accusation in an hour long rant. Harwin looked as though he genuinely felt bad for Aemond; making a few remarks about ‘lack of confidence’ that Aemond hadn't caught at the time. 

Fucking cunt.

He was knocked down several pegs when Daemon; who had been a silent observer throughout the entirety of the rant, joyfully informed Aemond that his pronunciation was in fact poor.

Humiliated was an understatement.

Not only did Aemond return to work the next day knowing that some randomized npc had a better handle on his former mother tongue than he did, but he also realized that throughout the entirety of his past life he hadn’t been speaking it correctly.

Not a single. Fucking. Time.

“Now, I assume you’ve taken the proper courses in how to handle these materials in the correct fashion, yes?” He asked as he led Charlie to the desk in the middle of the room, not bothering to look at the boy beside him.

Aemond saw movement, likely a head nod from his peripheral vision but remained silent until he was given a proper answer. Closed mouth’s led to empty bellies.

“Y-yes, I have. Numerous.” Charles answered quietly.

“Hmm.” Aemond grunted, he would take his word for it. 

He continued. “This is one of the five journals of Cersi Lannister that survived Daenerys Targaryen's conquest; it is two thousand years old to date yet is in perfect condition. Give me some reasons as to why they haven’t degraded into nothing over all these years, quickly.” Aemond instructed as he carefully opened the book and set it under the inspection light. Making sure to turn down the brightness so as to not put any stress on the paper.

Charles' eyes widened, he looked like he was about to shit himself, yet picked up his head and cleared his throat. “They’ve been stored away from high sources of heat and moisture. If they were placed in an area that was too hot the material’s very likely would have turned brittle and fallen to pieces or even shriveled up, causing the text to become ineligible. Had they been stored in an area with too much humidity or moisture, they would’ve fallen apart like paper mache or attracted insects.” 

His eyes continuously dotted to Aemond, attempting to read the man’s face for any disapproval. When he remained silent with his poker face intact Charles took it as his sign to continue. “Shelving is just as important. Books must be approximately the same size to be stored together so as to not lose their shape and become wonky or distorted.”

Aemond hummed, precise answers so far, but any tart that memorized the first few pages of their textbook could give it.

“And lastly?” 

“Book repair, books degrading over time is inevitable, in order to slow down the process we repair them. Mending the spine and reattaching leather covers with tape or paste. The process is long and can take upwards of over a week in order to be done correctly, but it’s important for them to remain in our hands.” The boy answered, now speaking clear and confidently. His shoulders became less tense and his demeanor more relaxed.

Aemond nodded. “Okay.” 

Charles raised an eyebrow, confused at his superiors' short, unclear response. “W-was that incorrect? Please give me another chance-”

Aemond picked his eye glass up from around his neck and brought it to his functioning eye. “Now, we’re going to take a look at the journal. Do you think this book has been repaired and if so, what are the main indicators that give you that idea and vice versa.”

Charles' look of worry melted, a toothy smile replacing it, displaying his large gap. He shuffled closer to Aemond, excited to look upon such a treasured art of history up close and personal.

Aemond rolled his eye so hard he thought for a moment it would get stuck.

This day is going to be longer than I thought it would be.

By the time Aemond was set to take his lunch break he almost fell to his knees and thanked the god’s. His trainee, who’s name apparently was neither Charles nor Charlie, but Clifton, talked his ear off like no other. Once Aemond had the kid going it was practically impossible to get him to stop. He prayed that his superiors would take him off of his hands before he choked the kid.

Aemond took a deep breath as he forced his thoughts to stop in their tracks. He was doing his best to be better, to stop his violent tendencies and rudeness. He no longer wanted to be a person people dreaded to be around, he longed to improve himself.

He ached to be good .

Humiliation bloomed in his chest like a flower in spring at the thought that Aegon of all people had successfully turned his entire being around whereas he had failed, still in the infancy stages of his journey to becoming a better person.

Aegon was no longer the lousy, good for nothing drunk from all those years ago, but a decently okay guy. Despite the fact that he was still overwhelmingly crass and as dumb as dirt.

His brother still battled with handling his liquor, limiting himself to solely beer. Something Aemond originally saw no sense in. Alcohol was alcohol, regardless of the specific type. However, when Aegon sat him down and explained that it was similar to how recovering nicotine addicts smoked vape pens rather than actual cigarettes he sighed and admitted it was better than nothing.

Dorne wasn’t built in a day.

Their mother had fallen to her knees the night of Aegon’s sixteenth birthday after he returned home reeking of beer and cigarettes. She tried so hard to make sure he wouldn’t fall back into his addiction that she felt like a failure.

Aemond broke Aegon’s nose that night, too angry to control himself even with Helaena and a seven year old Joffrey crying in the background.

He had known his brother was drinking again, had been for years. He trusted Aegon to keep his promise that he wouldn’t out himself to their mother, it would destroy her. 

A promise Aemond was an idiot to believe the older would follow through with.

Daemon had to pull Aemond off his brother, by then Aegon’s nose was cracked in several pieces and his own hands were covered in blood and saute. Rhaenyra was screaming at everyone to get out while Helanea cried in the corner cuddling Joffrey as she covered eyes from the scene.

He thought about that night often.

Everyday was a constant struggle to remind himself he no longer had reason to act in such a way. To be bitter and vile. He was no longer the one eyed kinslayer, but Aemond Tully, a smart young man who graduated from highschool two years ahead of his time and attended the most prestigious university in the country, earning him an archivist position at St. Jon’s that it took others decades to achieve.

He was no longer a murdering genocidal madman.

Or a kinslayer.

The small doorbell rang as he stepped into Lottie’s before he was greeted by the hostess, Samaya. A tall girl with bright red hair and kind eyes. She favored his aunt Jayne, minus the kind eyes. Jayne was a raging cunt to most people. 

Perhaps that’s why he never minded Samaya’s overly sweet smile or need to start up a conversation with him when she noticed he was getting ready to go about his day.

For the past year he's taken to frequenting a small cafe called ‘Lottie’s’ downtown from the Museum during his lunch. It was quiet and quaint with decent wifi. Much more comfortable than the Starbucks he used to visit.

Lottie’s was in the very heart of King’s landing, surrounded by numerous shopping centers and historical attractions. One would think that made it the perfect spot to bring in customers. Employees on their lunch break or tourists looking for somewhere to stop and have a quick snack. However, they had been having a hard time getting business.

Aemond made his way to the counter, reading the available pasteris on the special’s menu. His sweet tooth had been getting the best of him lately, usually kicking in right after dinner, craving something sweet to tone down his savory meal. A bad habit his trainer had chided him for multiple times.

His go to were pastries, preferring the sweet bread over creamy desserts like ice cream or mousse.

“Hey Aemond, what will you be having today? The usual I suppose?” Simon greeted.

Simon was one of the baristas that worked the counter at Lottie’s.  After a little more than six months, he and Aemond were on a first name basis. The barista knew Aemond’s order like the back of his hand since the blonde rarely ever tried something different, no matter how much Simon threw out recommendations.

He was an average height guy that was way too old to be working a minimum wage coffee shop gig with crooked teeth and frosted tips, disgustingly out of date. Aemond wonders how a man like that could go home and fuck his Wife.

But then again, he was probably queer. The way he bent his fingers as he punched in Aemond’s order was a dead giveaway.

“Correct.” Aemond replied dryly, not in the mood to give back the chipper attitude he was receiving. Not that he ever was. “Add a strawberry tart to that for me.” He said as he took out his debit card, too tired to deal with apple pay.

Simon nodded. “Of course. Your total is $8.75.”

After he paid and received his food from the female barista, Amy, was it? Aemond took to his usual spot in the nook of the cafe behind the overly large decorative plant. Helaena had called it his safety corner once, explaining that it was the perfect space for him due being dark, cozy, and hidden from watching eyes.

Aemond chuckled, truer words have never been spoken.

Once he was seated he took his laptop out of his carrier bag and decided to go over his emails. It may have been his lunch break, but the museum was expecting an important shipment and his superior’s put him in charge of tracking it. 

Aemond made sure to check for updates on its whereabouts every available moment. If he missed even a single important message, he was done for.

Though the pressure was stressful, the serene atmosphere of the cafe helped calm him immensely. It was quiet, a stark difference compared to other coffee shops around the area. The staff strayed away from playing music and instead burned candles and essential oils, not only creating a relaxing environment but also providing a nice aroma, especially paired with the scent of their baked goods.

He laid a napkin on the table as he took a small bite out of the tart, bits of strawberry staining his lips.

He’s brought Hel here on a few occasions, she was sensitive to loud noises and for the most part didn't enjoy being around people she didn’t know, all things she encounters on a daily basis while attending one of the biggest schools in the country. Aemond hoped the small shop could become a safe space for her to relax and escape the stress of her busy life. He’s come home one time too many to Jace rocking her while she was in the middle of a breakdown. 

Helaena always told him she had a nice time, that the food was tasty and the people were nice. However, she never took to visiting the establishment unless Aemond asked her to accompany him.

He didn’t push though; she could do what she pleased.

She didn’t need to be taken care of or handled with children’s gloves, something she’s had to remind him as well as their mother of often.

“Have you forgotten that I was a mother once, little brother? I am more than capable of taking care of myself.” 

Aemond’s jaw clenched as he remembered his precious niece and nephews. “For as long as I live, I'll never forget.”

The cafe was brightly lit, tall rounded windows giving customers a perfect view of the bustling streets. There were only six group tables, all long with about eight chairs at each, and three single seats. Green and cream colored striped walls were decorated with tacky celebrity quotes and cheesy messages about mental health like “There is no health, without mental health!” and “It’s ok to have a bad brain day.”

Laughable really, half the people that resonated with that cringy shit were children that developed their political positions from TikTok comment sections and Twitter threads. They thought being nervous to go to a Katty Perry meet and greet was the height of what it meant to have anxiety. 

All those whiny cunts do is bitch and moan all over social media about mental health and not judging people, but as soon as they hear about the reality of being mentally ill they shied away in disgust.

Depression was more than moping around all day, it was not taking a shower or brushing your teeth for weeks straight, letting half eaten plates of food rot beside your bed for months as it molds and attracts flies. In the worst of cases a person won’t even move from their bed to use the bathroom, soiling themselves because they’ve lost the will to do even the simplest of activities. 

Using jargon they didn’t even know the dictionary definition of. ‘Omg guys, I almost told my crush I like him! Ugh, my intrusive thoughts always get the best of me.’

If he told those idiots what real intrusive thoughts were they’d try to cancel him. 

Aemond took a sip of coffee as he opened his work email to see over a hundred messages in less than two hours. It was the reality of bearing a position such as his, every message had to be read, examined and replied to if it required, and it usually did.

As he scrolled, beginning to sort through the messages and type out his replies he noticed his phone screen was lit up. 

Aegon was calling, probably asking to use his phone charger after losing his own for the umpteenth time or wanted him to check over one of his back moles in fear it was cancerous. All things that could be dealt with later.

Unlike usual, his brother didn’t quit calling, still trying to get ahold of him. Aemond refused to answer, Aegon was approaching his mid twenties, he was a big boy, the idiot could deal with whatever was happening on his own. He was more than old enough; he’d figure out whatever was going on eventually.

Aemond leaned into his laptop when he came across an email from the shipping company. The shipment was set to arrive around midnight so Aemond would have to make sure someone was available for the pickup.

As he grabbed his phone to text his co-worker, Julius, that never had any problems working the night shift, he noticed Aegon called him thirty times in the past hour including dozens of texts. Aemond’s face twisted in worry, his brother may have been annoying, but he wouldn’t be so desperate to get in contact with him if there wasn’t an actual emergency.

Aemond scrolled through his call log, almost dropping his phone when he noticed the entire family, even Daemon had been trying to contact him. His mother had called just as much as Aegon, leaving various distressed voicemails.

Aemond pressed play and held the speaker to his ear letting every message play in order.

Aemond, it’s mama. Pick up please.

Please, answer me. You need to go home. I'm leaving my flight now.

I’m begging you to answer.

He slammed his laptop shut, cursing as he fumbled to gather his belongings. Coming close to dropping his bag as he clumsily threw it over his shoulder, not bothering to discard his coffee cup or napkins. They had a janitor for a reason.

Simon and another barista looked at Aemond worryingly as he hurriedly made his way out of the cafe, they had never seen him in such a rush before.

As he approached the door, boots stomping heavily on the ground, the Samaya looked at him in confusion. 

“Are you okay Aemond?” She asked, concern thick in her voice.

Aemond ignored her, leaving before she could get another word in. He would apologize for his rudeness later, he needed to figure out what was happening. He called his mother back but got no answer, nearly throwing the phone after the eighth failed attempt to reach her, getting sent straight to voicemail.

“Fuck.” He breathed, rushing through the crowded streets trying to recall where he parked his car. On the way he bumped into groups of people and was violently cursed at as he stepped on numerous toes.

Once Aemond spotted his car he pulled out his keys and pressed the button like a madman, squeezing the small thing so hard that it was a miracle it didn’t break in his grasp. He threw his bag in the car and jumped in right after, fumbling with his phone as the car lights sparked on and the engine reved up, pulling off in a hurry as soon as he put his foot on the gas pedal.

His eyes were frantically dotting from his phone to the road, reading distressed messages while attempting to stop at every red light in time. Even Jace who never contacted Aemond by his own valtion sent him a few texts.

He called the brunette back, left leg shaking as the rings went on for what seemed like forever only to send him to voicemail.

“Fucking cunts! All of them.” He screeched.

Just then his phone rang causing Aemond to almost swerve off the road. It was Aegon who was also simultaneously texting him to pick up.

He instantly answered, getting an ear full of screaming in return. 

“Where the fuck are you!” 

“I was on my lunch break. I told you that already.” He gritted. 

“So, you were available and what? Just ignored us? God’s you’re nothing but a selfish ass.”

“I was still handling business, doing work . Something you know nothing about other than a shitty part time gig at some run-down dive bar that you couldn’t even hold for more than a month. Now tell me what’s going on before I lose it!” 

The other end went silent, all he could hear was Aegon’s heavy breathing. It sounded like the older had run a marathon.

“Well?” Aemond sneered, taking his right hand off the wheel to throw it in the air. Fed up with the guessing game his entire family had been adamant to make him participate in since they couldn’t bother to que him in on the apparent emergency.

“Speak up right this instant before I ram my foot-”

“Mom found him.”

Aemond halts, nearly crashing his car into the person in front of him, hitting the brakes just in time. The rubber of his tires makes the most ear wrenching screech he’s ever heard, the people next to him have likely covered their ears from the auditory assault.

Aemond was breathing heavily, heart sunken down to his stomach as he clenched the wheel so tight there was no doubt his handprint would be embedded into the leather for the rest of the day. Every vein in his body had popped out from his forehead to his hands. Beads of sweat gathered at the base of his neck, slowly sliding down to his chest.

Aemond hadn't noticed but he was violently shaking, barely able to drive in a straight line.

Aegon sniffled, his voice now soft, defeated and full with a sorrowful mix of despair, anger and joy.

“She found Lucerys.”

His brother laughed mournfully.

“He’s alive Aemond. Lucerys is alive.”

The night Lucerys died he took Aemond’s sanity along with him. Sunken into the deep nothingness of the blue waters, lost forever to the raging sea. The thunder laughed in mockery as it had already seen the future to come.

Seen the dragons dancing.

Foreseen the once strong house Targaryen crumble to nothing as the last of their great beasts died, abandoning them to fester in madness as the magic in their veins turned black and rotted them from the inside out without their monsters of old Valyria to balance it.

They had fallen from grace in the most tragic of ways, and it all started because of one fated feud, a push and pull of obsession and lust sewn together by the gods themselves.

Aemond still remembers that night, it haunts him, vivid and bursting with color.

He walked the shoreline for hours. Back slouching, feet burning as they cried out for rest. Aemond could feel the blisters forming on his soles. 

His lips were dry, cracked and bleeding from thirst, the salt floating through the air hadn’t done him any favors either.

His shoes were filled with sea water, his pants were completely soaked all the way up to his waist as he had been searching through the water. Picking through seaweed, floating rocks and dead fish, looking for a sign, any sign of Lucerys.

Sweet nephew.

He hadn’t meant to kill him, not consciously. He had been angry, furious that after irreversibly altering the course of Aemond’s life that Lucerys didn’t even think him worthy of acknowledgement. Pretending as though he was invisible, no worse, not even present.

Aemond could’ve been somebody, made a name for himself that garnered the respect of the entire realm. Viable proof that he was more than a second son with no land or titles. Lucerys took that chance away from him, snatched it from Aemonds grasp with only a sharp blade and those chubby little fingers. All without remorse. Now he was nothing more than the one-eyed Targaryen.

His nephew hadn’t thought he was even worth as little as an apology all those years ago and he was now affirming his presence wasn’t even worth acknowledging.  

Having the gall, the absolute audacity to stand in Lord Borros hall, soaking wet with nothing to offer but a message from his whore mother. A reminder, his half sister wrote. Absolutely pathetic. If Aemond didn’t know any better he would think she was the one that lost half her sight. Expecting the lords of the realm to get on their knees and kiss her cunny for no reason other than a twenty year old promise.

Aemond was furious. That whoring old bitch had nothing but nerve, and her son was the same. Though he knew that already, the way Lucerys plump lips pouted and cheeks perked up when he laughed had garnered him the title of the realm's new delight, following in his sister’s footsteps.

He would soon lose that title.

The debt would be repaid.

He thought the boy would shrivel up in fear and do as he was asked, Aemond his superior in every way, intelligence, strength, prowess. He didn’t expect his nephew to stand so strong in his stance. Especially not when he spent most of his time hidden behind his mother’s skirts, holding onto her hand and resting against her chest like a suckling babe.

When Lucerys stood ten toes down in his refusal despite obviously being scared out of his mind it did no more than anger Aemond even further.

He didn’t know why he ran to Vhagar. It wasn’t his brainless, plain faced betrothal’s taunts about his manhood. He couldn’t care less about what that baseborn bitch had to say about him.

He just…. He needed to go after him. 

He didn’t mean for it to end like this.

Aemond looked back, falling to his knees once he caught sight of hundreds of food prints embedded into the sand. All his.

His hands fell into the dirt, scrunching up his fists as he let out a deep shreek. 

Waves crashed into him, soaking his entire body as he laid there, mourning everything he’d lost as well as what could have been. Knowing that there would be no happy ending after this, no negotiations or offers of peace. 

War would rage, bodies would drop like flies and villages would be pillaged. 

He thought of Helaena, his big sister, the only other person besides their mother that cared for him after Driftmark. She wasn’t fit for war, she was a kind soul, a sweet girl in a woman’s body who spent her days playing with her children and collecting bugs. She had been so confused at all the anger during the king’s sham of a family dinner, awkwardly clapping at what she believed was a genuine toast to the strong bastards. 

The innocent were always the first to die.

Just then he noticed swirls of red in the water. Only a few feet away lay a red and black cloak, floating in the ocean's suds.

Aemond hurried up, almost falling as he rushed over to grab the cloth before it was taken by the sea. He inspected it, the scale like detailing, golden specks painted into the crevasse of the scales, the torn apart high neck collar. All soaked in blood.

He held it up to his nose. Eyes snapping closed as he took in the metallic scent of blood, but as he continued to take in the scent he found what he was looking for.

Lucerys.

His nephew smelled like orange petals and fresh gardenia, has since they were children. It was still thick on his cloak, even torn apart and bloodied.

He looked into the distance to see large chunks of meat floating through the waves, pearl and gold. 

Arrax.

What have I done?

For years he dreamt of the moment he would meet Lucerys again.

Instead, the years sailed by with no sign of the puppy eyed boy. Every birthday or holiday that came and went without him ended in tears. Celebrations, though happy as they tried to make them, were always empty, missing something. 

Missing him.

Lucerys birthday was always a sad occasion. Everyone would slowly fill with dread as the date crept up. Rhaenyra would seclude herself, not bothering to see anyone on the day other than the children, holding them as she let out her sorrows. 

His mother often stayed to support her friend while he and Aegon returned home, knowing they were welcome but too guilty to remain.

Jace and Rhaena become somber, Aemond once walked in on them holding each other as they cried on the other's shoulder while whispering assurances that Lucerys would be there to celebrate next year. 

Baela and Daemon on the other hand would get angry, snapping at anyone for any reason whatsoever. 

Corlys drank, the pain being too much for the usually straight edged man to handle.

Leanor’s actions were a mystery, he would disappear out of thin air and not return until the next day with red eyes and stinking like boo’s. Rhaenys would drag him out of the house and give him the telling off of a lifetime, but that never stopped him from doing it every year.

Everyone else simply moped around while the little ones were too young to even understand what had everyone in such a state.

After all this time, their hopes for the missing piece of their puzzle to return felt like a pipe dream, a hopeless desire that would never be fulfilled. No one had the guts to say it, but the truth is they were all slowly losing their faith, beginning to believe they would spend the rest of their days longing to be reunited with a ghost.

Aegon’s words ricocheted through his head on a loop. He didn’t know if he would be able to withstand the pain if his brother’s words were false.

He wanted to stare into those deep brown eyes just once more. Get down on his knees and beg for forgiveness, for the absolution he spent the short remainder of his past life hunting for in the ashes of Harrenhal. That he searched for in Alys’ supple skin and dark curly hair, taking in her scent and hoping that it would be similar to the boy he’d lost to his own need for vengeance.

He pulled up to their neighborhood gate and rolled down the window. Their community security guards' look of annoyance melts once he notices him, putting on a porcelain mask of happiness. 

The man leaned down. “Good afternoon Mr. Tully-”

“Just let me in. I truly don’t mean to be rude but there’s a family emergency I have to attend to.” Aemond said impatiently, thumbs tapping the steering wheel. The corner of the officer’s mouth twitched, his mask only a hair away from shattering. Aemond could see the man’s adams’ apple bob as he swallowed harshly, veins in his forehead making an appearance. “No problem, sir.” He said as walked back to his booth.

Once the gates opened he sped in, leaving dust behind in the wind. 

The streets were peaceful, likely due to school still being in session. The group of desperate housewives at the tennis court honked the horn of their golf carts as they smiled and waved at him driving past. Making sure to stick out their chests and hike up their skorts, showing off their badly tanned, almost orange legs. 

As he pulled into the driveway he noticed everyone’s car was parked across the street at Rhaenyra’s. As he got out he slammed the door behind him and rushed over, blood pumping as he got closer, mind running a million miles an hour. Was Lucerys here, was this the day? 

Once he was at the doorstep he noticed the window curtains were drawn, pulling the spare key from under the entrance mattress, fingers shaking as he opened the door. 

He rushed in, hearing the door slam shut behind him. Everyone was piled in the guest living area, whipping their heads around as he walked in. Aemond was breathing heavily, fists clenched as he did his best to catch his breath. 

“Look who decided to show up.” Daemon voiced, hands behind his back looking a second away from snapping.

“Where is he?” He asked slowly looking around for any trace of the curly haired boy that haunted his every waking moment.

All he got in response was silence, only serving to agitate him further. “Well? Is anyone going to speak?” 

His mother stood up, she was barefoot, shoes likely thrown off to the side somewhere. Red eyes and smudged eyeshadow were clear signs she had been crying not long ago. She approached him like a wounded deer, slow and steady. Cupping his cheeks as she leaned in and put her forehead just below his chin. He wrapped his arms around her back, she was shaking like a leaf.

She looked up with sad eyes and trembling lips. “He’s not here darling.”

Aemond felt his chest cave in, his arms slipping from around her and falling to his sides limply. He swallowed thickly, moving his jaw as he dug deep to find his words. “What do you mean? You called me, everyone did. Aegon told me you found him.” His voice got loud as he went on, full of despair and confusion. Had Aegon lied to him?

Aemond stepped down the steps towards his brother who was seated on the floor with his arms wrapped around his legs. He looked like a frightened child, he should be for lying to him about something like this. The man child wouldn’t know a thing about boundaries if they hit him over his thick skull.

“What in all seven hells is wrong with you? Are you that much of a slobbering child that you-” 

Aegon looked up, snot running from his nose. “Fuck you.” He groaned, barely keeping his head up before looking back down.

Aemond’s jaw clenched. “Fuck me? You pathetic ball of lard-”

“Don’t speak to him like that!” Jace growled.

Aemond turned around. Jacaerys was on the couch holding his mother who looked to be in shock. Harwin had his arms wrapped around both of them, staring at Aemond intensely as he mouthed to him.

Calm down son.

He ignored the man; where Aemond was concerned, Harwin could eat a bag of cocks. 

“That’s rich coming from you, the person that trash talks him every chance he gets.”

Jace’s face slowly turned red. “You wouldn’t-“ 

“Stop arguing this instant! All of you are acting like children, better yet, stray dogs.” His mother shouted, hands clutching tightly onto his arms in panic. She pulled him towards her, forcing herself into his line of vision. 

She grabbed his jaw and turned his head down. “Look at me. That is not how we talk to each other. Not in this household, not anymore. Do you understand?” 

He nodded hesitantly.

She took a deep breath, steadying herself with every exhale.

“Your brother told you the truth. Lucerys has been found. However..” She trailed off as her voice trembled, thick with tears.

“Tell me. I need to know.” His voice cracked with every word, throat burning from screaming his lungs out. 

The pain will destroy me once more if I don’t know.

She smiled sadly. “He doesn't remember. Not me, this family, or himself.”                                         

The St. Jon Museum, once the great sept of Baelor, is the largest museum in all of Westeros, home to over 200 relics of old Westeros from the coldest parts of the north to the hottest depths of Dorne. 

Every artifact is placed inside a stone alcove, protected by unbreakable glass. 

Within the marble walls great treasures lie such as the crown of Robert Baratheon, the man who ended the three hundred year reign of the Targryens over Westeros. Over the years house Baratheon has tried to sue for ownership of the crown, stating that it belongs in their families private collection as it is an heirloom. 

Though the Baratheon’s have taken the Museum owners to court numerous times over the past eighty years they have been unsuccessful in every attempt. It is likely that Liam Baratheon, owner of Baratheon enterprises and heir to the house's fortune, has plans to sue in the upcoming year, but nothing has been confirmed.

The bones of Balerion, one of the oldest beasts of ancient Valyria, rest in the dragon exhibit along with the remains of Drogon. The last Targaryen to ever ride the behemoth before its death was Viserys i Targaryen, father to Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, whose short reign was officially legitimized in 308 A.C by her descendent Queen Daenerys Targaryen.

Though it has been years in the making, archaeologists have been unsuccessful in their search for more remains of these creatures. A common belief is that once a dragon was on its deathbed it would use what little energy it had left to journey back to their home of old Valyria, making the wasteland their final resting place.

However, no one knows for sure since the lifespan of a dragon was never estimated. Some such as Vhagar lived for over three hundred years and died from war injuries rather than natural causes.

One of the most popular attractions were three fossilized dragon eggs, found in the ruins of what was once old Valyria after an expedition in 1915 that ended in eighteen out of the twenty archaeologists on the mission going missing, never to be seen again. The two surviving members of the team were said to have gone mad. Returning completely nude with nothing in clutch but the gold and red eggs. Dying of mysterious causes only days after. 

Their cause of death has never been revealed to the public.

And one of the most scandalized relics, the alleged casket of the night king. 

Many reporters and historians alike have questioned the legitimacy of the supposed relic. Stating that the night king was no more than a northern myth created by parents to keep their children from wandering during the decade’s long winters. Many held the belief that the supposed casket was a farce, made up to attract more visitors. A greedy plot since the museum garnered an average of 9.8 million visitors per year. 

Others believe the journals of king consort Jon Snow say otherwise. 

However, these are simply rumors with no standing biases.

Most would think that in a place such as this with a multitude of unexplained, mysterious wonders from all over the world that a young man like Aemond would take to exploring them instead of spending his days locked in the museum’s archives. Whenever Julius' young co-worker did make an appearance, he never showed interest in any of the displays except for one.

He walked over to the small alcove, trying to see what the young man found so interesting about the vestige. 

The cloak of Lucerys Velaryon, 115 A.C - 129 A.C

No one knows how it ended up in the hands of the Harrenhal witch (Alys Strong) as its owner had died brutally either by dragon or falling to the sea two years prior. 

However, we do know that after Alys strong’s disappearance every inch of Harrenhal was searched, through that search this cloak of house Targaryen was found. Though torn and bloodied was in exceptionally good condition.

On the inside of the collar the initials L.V are stitched in sea blue with a small heart, making it quite obvious who once wore the royal piece.

Interesting. Not his taste when it comes to relics but, everyone has their own unique interests. Who is he to Judge?

Chapter Text

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Rhaenyra asks, giggling as she takes in the fascinated look shining in Luke’s big brown eyes darting every which way, taking in his new surroundings. Gratitude isn’t enough to describe what she feels at knowing she’ll be able to share in this experience with him. King’s Landing always brings a childlike wonder out of people. 

Luke shifts his gaze to her. “To say it’s beautiful would be an understatement. Unreal is more fitting. It looks like a firework show out here.” 

The entire city was lit up like a damn edm concert, the kind that only let you in if you had one of those invisible tattoos that could only be seen under a purple light like they were cum stains on motel six bedsheets. Had he not been so captivated by the view Luke probably would’ve found the sight to be overstimulating. 

King’s landing was so different from anywhere he’s ever stepped foot. Luke was used to dull earth tones and underfunded, run down towns. Most cities he’s lived in didn't even have proper groceries stores with healthy meats or veggies, or all the other shit middle class moms talk about in their Facebook groups. Greasy fast food restaurants and corner stores filled with chips and beer were all that was close, not to mention affordable. Five dollars can make five days’ worth of food if you play your cards right. 

It was almost painful how in less than fifteen minutes they had passed more than three Whole foods. Having access to healthy meals must be a middle to high class only type of thing, guess he got the memo late. 

“Really? I’ve never been to one of those.” Rhaenyra hums, turning her body towards the boy. Content with watching his face contort with emotions as he takes in everything for the first time. 

Luke whips around, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion at the admission. “Are you fucking with me?” Rhaenyra’s eyebrows shoot to her hairline. Luke can hear Daemon attempt to stifle his laugh, coughing uncontrollably as he loses the battle.

Beside Rhaenyra, Alicent makes a gurgling noise in her sleep, probably the drool pooling in her mouth. The attorney had been knocked out for the absolute longest, only waking up to walk to their next ride. Had she not made so much noise Luke would be worried she passed onto the stranger while he was distracted. 

“Is it really that hard to believe?” She laughs with an eyebrow raised in questioning.

“Yea? I mean, you’re rich, like filthy fucking rich. I’m sure your shoes cost more than everything I've ever owned in my entire life all together.” He says, pointing to the petal pink, red bottoms on his foster mother's feet. Rhaenyra’s gaze flickers to said shoes, frowning as she rotates her foot, inspecting them as if this were the first time she actually looked at them. 

Luke continues. “Not to mention you live in the capital. The biggest firework show in the country is held there every New Year’s Eve, and you’ve never taken the time to go see it? Ever? Not even on one of your little family trips I'm certain you guys take.” He mutters the last part quietly; certain she wouldn’t be able to actually decipher his words.

“Ok, when you say it like that it does sound incredibly absurd. Sadly, it’s the truth.”

“Why haven't you gone? I’d kill to see something like that in person.” Luke huffs, air coming out of his nose. He knew that it was weird to say, but he was a little upset at the woman’s admission. He can’t imagine having such easy access to something like the Baratheon fireworks show and not going. 

Rhaenyra sighs sadly. “It’s not that I don’t want to go, it seems like it would be a fun experience, watching the lights shoot through the sky. I have a thing with loud noises and bright lights, they scare me a lot to be honest, terrify me even. Having to sit through that for five hours straight would be torture.”

Luke goes still, feeling like a first-class asshole once he digests the woman’s words. Rhaneyra had a faraway look in her eyes and her breathing had slightly sped up as if she was trapped in a bad memory. 

He cleared his throat. “Sorry, I didn’t know, I shouldn’t have assumed.”

“Don’t apologize, you did nothing wrong.” She waved her hand in dismissal. “Let’s talk about something else, hm? How about a round of twenty questions? We still have some time left before we meet up with the others.”

Normally Luke would’ve shot the suggestion down, but there was something about Rhaenyra that made him want to play along. Perhaps it was the fifteen hour jet ride that helped slightly ease his reservations about her. The lemon cake was a satisfying addition as well.

“Sure.” Luke agreed, apparently immune to the woman’s charm.

Rhaenyra smiled as a mischievous glint shone in her eyes. “I have a good one. Who’s your celebrity crush?” She asked smugly.

“Easy, Tom hardy.” Luke said as a matter of factly. Anyone who had taste in men would agree. There was something so attractive about the older man, seeing him in peaky blinders for the first time nearly made Luke melt into a puddle. The rough bread really did it for Luke. His old myspace pictures weren’t an awful sight either.

“The name sounds familiar, but I can’t put a face to it.”

“Ever seen that movie Venom?” He asked. 

She nodded. “With the alien made of black goo that took over the reporter’s body? We all saw it on opening night. Aegon literally begged Daemon to come with us.”

“Your Aegon?” He asked, he had to since there were a thousand Aegon’s in this cluster fuck of a family. What happened to originality? 

“No, Alicent’s son.” She smirked.

Luke’s face twisted at the image, imagining the older man's reaction to the younger throwing a hissy fit to get him to see a movie about a gay interspecies relationship. Luke would like to say he couldn’t imagine the blonde doing such a thing, but he absolutely could. He wonders what Jace’s reaction to the scene was.

“Why did he beg?” 

“Aegon greatly enjoys family time. So, when someone doesn't want to join in on the festivities he gets a little whiny. He’s been like that since a baby. It may seem a little annoying at first but it’s very sweet. If he tries to get you to participate in something you're not interested in all I ask is to let him down gently. He means no harm.” She explains.

So, she’s known Aegon since he was a child. Alicent didn’t look to be that old either, nor did Rhaenyra herself. How long have these two known each other? 

“Has he been in anything else?” She asks, steering back to the original topic.

Luke smiles smugly, ready to hit her with a bomb. “Yep.” He answered, popping the p. “He played Bane in that Batman movie too, the one with Christian Bale.” Luke said, feeling it was his duty to indoctrinate anyone he could into the Tom Hardy simp community. The man was just that glorious.

Rhaenyra’s jaw dropped. “No way that was him. He's huge.” 

She looked to be in pure disbelief, rapidly blinking as if she were trying to recall every time she had seen the man in a movie. 

Luke nodded, only now noticing how little space was between them. “He isn’t, that’s the funny part. Apparently he gained like forty pounds and wore a hundred layers of clothes. The cameras also filmed him from a high angle so he would seem taller.” He explained as he scooted more towards the door.

“You sure do know a lot about this man.” She commented, sounding strangely impressed.

Luke shrugged unashamed. So what if he went down a bit of a rabbit hole after he’d seen the man for the first time? Anyone who says they’ve never watched all the interviews and movies of an actor they wanted fuck was nothing but a liar. Researching about an attractive celebrity was more perfectly normal, at least that’s what he figured.

“Enough about me. Who’s yours?” 

Rhaenyra hummed, lips curling to the side as she thought. “It’s split between Pedro Pascal and Christina Hendricks. Those two are what dreams are made of.”

Daemon hums in agreement in the front. Obviously in agreement with his wife’s choices.

Luke nods, the woman has good taste. Pedro Pascal was the definition of a dilf. It also helped that he was the pinnacle of tall, dark and handsome, a type he had been weak against in the past. He heard some rumors about him being a member of house Martell but hid it, allegedly he didn’t want to be put in the nepotism baby box. Luke couldn’t blame him, who wanted to be talked about in the same breath as Lily Rose Depp? 

Christina Hendricks was hot as fuck too. Luke didn’t often find himself attracted to women, but the redhead had an aura around her that was so hypnotizing. It also helped that her character in mad men was perfection personified.

“If you could only eat one meal for the rest of your life, what would it be?” He asked, finding himself enjoying their little game. Keen to keep the ball rolling.

Rhaenyra whistled, folding her arms as she tapped her heeled foot. His question was clearly a hard one to answer. “God’s, that's difficult. Are we allowed sides or only a main dish?” 

“Sides are permitted.” He allows.

She nodded, tapping her manicured fingers along her arms. “Maybe lamb chops and a loaded baked potato with a lot of cheese. And bacon.'' She adds.

“What do lamb chops taste like?” Luke asked. He’d seen private chefs cook lamb chops on Instagram, slathering the meat in all sorts of different sauces and seasonings. Luke’s stomach gurgled as he recalled the time he watched a live of a man making curried lamb chops with roasted potatoes. The meal looked so delectable he was able to taste it through the screen. Fuck, he was salivating just thinking of it.

“Their taste mostly depends on how you cook them. For example, if you marinate them in a smokey, brown sugar mixture then they’ll taste like steak, but if you simply throw a few random seasonings on them and right into the oven they’ll taste like pork chops. I prefer my lamb chops pan seared with a lot of butter, but everyone’s different.” She explained.

Luke chuckles. “You really like lamb chops, huh?”

Rhaenyra blushes. “You can tell?” She asked jokingly. “I just like food in general, cooking for my family is how I show love. It’s incredible how food brings everyone around us together, no matter what’s going on. Good food truly heals the soul.”

Luke guesses that makes sense; food is one of the things needed for survival. No food means death and crappy food makes you cranky. All it takes is one good meal to lift your spirits out of the dumps. There have been many days in his life where he was ready to walk into traffic but relaxed after a good cheeseburger. But then again, that was likely just him eating his feelings instead of dealing with them. Typical.

“The day of giving must be amazing at your house.” Luke chimed in, not having much to offer to the conversation of enjoying food with your family.

“It is, you’ll see soon enough. Now, what’s yours? Let me guess, pizza?”

Luke raised an eyebrow at her first comment, trying to figure out if he heard the woman correctly. 

“Yep, I’d eat pizza for the rest of my life no problem. There's a million different toppings to choose from and no pizza place tastes the same, not counting the store brands. And if I get bored, I'll simply cut the slices into different shapes to spice things up.” He explained.

“Okay, but answer me this, which restaurant has the best pizza?” 

“This place called Annie’s in Higheart, you wouldn’t know it.” He grumbled.

Back in elementary school Luke had a teacher, Mr. Veil was his name, who threw a class pizza party before the school year ended. Some shit about them deserving a treat after getting passing marks on their end of year test. He decorated the classroom with balloons and colorful ribbons, going out of his way to lay out games for everyone to play. He even played the movie emperor’s new groove on the screen projector towards the end of the day.

Luke ate alone as per usual, choosing to stay in his cubby corner. It had been a rough day for him, one of his classmates with a shitty buzzcut who Luke is certain was likely somewhere attempting to commit fraud, had poured orange soda all over his (mostly) white t-shirt. 

The asshole had gotten away with it, claiming it was all an accident and that he was sorry, even going as far as to offer up his friendship, making sure to fold his arms and bat his eyelashes under the principal's gaze like some saint. Luke knew it was an act, he could practically smell the deceit leaking from his greasy crevices.

As he ate Mr. Veil noticed his dejected form in the corner away from the other student’s. The man walked over and offered Luke another slice of pizza even though he had previously stated there was a two slice per person rule, likely because he was an underpaid teacher using his own cash to throw the party.

Luke’s eyes lit up, a big cheesy grin taking over his chubby face as he practically shook in his seat at the thought of getting another slice. The man smiled as Luke threw the peperoni covered treat down his hatch as if it would jump out of his hand and run from him if he didn’t. He leaned down and ruffled Luke’s hair, advising him to ask his mother to go to Annie’s pizza if he ever wanted more. He smiled through the rest of the day.

Wasn’t it crazy how such a minor act can be the highlight of someone’s day.

Rhaenyra looked interested. “A local mom and pop place I’m assuming.” She questioned.

“Yea.” He said quietly, turning to look out of the window. They were on a highway, surrounded by hundreds of cars making their way in and out of the city. The flashing taillights and turning signals made it seem as though they were traveling among a sea of colors. 

“Mountains or beach?” Rhaenyra asked.

Luke looked back to her. “Like to visit?” 

She nodded.

“Beach. It’s calming.” He says softly. “What about you?” Luke questioned, interested to know the woman’s preference.

“I like the beach too.” She smiled.

They continued their game for the duration of the ride. Laughing at the ridiculous questions and becoming quieter and more jaded during the personal ones, Luke more than Rhaenyra. Luke learned a lot about his foster mother, apparently her favorite color was red which made sense considering it was one of the colors of her house.

He also learned quite a bit about their family dynamic. Apparently, Daemon had two daughters outside of their marriage, Twins named Baela and Rhaena. They were currently in Essos with their grandparents, but Rhaenyra was confident he would take a liking towards them once they returned from their trip. Even joking that they would be stuck at the hip once they got all to know each other.

He didn’t have the heart to tell her he wouldn’t be doing jack shit except happily crawling into whatever room they gave him and holing up in there until he was hauled to court and forced to face whatever future he was given. It seemed as though Rhaenyra didn’t understand he wasn’t here to recreate full house, he was here because he had no other choice.

Had he been given a choice; he’d jump on the next available boat ride to Essos and drop off of the face of the earth. Probably go live in a small village and sell fish for the rest of his days, hidden away from the grimy filth of the world. It was a nice dream.

When Luke asked how big their family actually was she laughed, asking if he wanted a simple or long answer. He hesitantly chose the long answer, wanting all the details. If he was going to live with this family he needed to know everything he could.

God’s how he missed his ignorance to the true situation. He cursed himself for being so inquisitive.

Together she and Daemon had three children, while he had two from another woman named Laena who Rhaenyra was good friends with, constantly going out to brunch and shopping sprees with. Luke raised an eyebrow at that, maybe it was his emotional immaturity talking but he would never be friends with someone that fucked his man, regardless of if they had kids together. But again, probably his immaturity taking the wheel.

She also revealed that she was the godmother to all of Alicent’s kids, present for Helaena and Aemond’s birth, making them basically one big happy family. It made his head spin, the more he learned the more he wished he stayed quiet and never asked in the first place. The dynamic was too much to know too soon.

Rhaenyra likely caught on and chose to switch to a different topic, apologizing for the information overload. He brushed it off, saying that he would learn how their household worked in the next few hours anyway, better to know now at least.

What really did him in was the chance he would be seeing Aemond often. The thought caused a warm feeling to spread in his stomach as dread filled his chest. Luke was still trying to figure the man out. Aemond was quiet, choosing to be a silent witness rather than a loud conversation starter like his older brother.

Luke still couldn’t wrap his head around Aemond being the little brother of the two. He looked twenty five at the least, hard lines and board shoulders matured him at an exceptional rate. Luke remembered the older’s touch as they shook hands, his grip was firm and his calluses were thick. Everything about Aemond screamed grown man, not that it was a bad thing.

Though they haven't exchanged many words Luke decided Aemond was one of those jaded, woe is me sort of guys. Probably a douchebag to most people because they weren’t worth the effort it took to be nice.

At least he was a hot douchebag.

The car stopped, a loud honk catching his attention. He looked to the front to see a blue hummer truck parked across from them with Joffrey hanging out the window. The curly haired boy was waving at them as he shouted something Luke couldn’t make out.

They were in the middle of a car lot; the sky was still as dark but the streetlights gave him a good view of their surroundings.

“Alicent, wake up. We’re here.” Rhaenyra barked as she shook the attorney. 

Alicent snorted as she slowly gained consciousness, shoving Rhaenyra’s hands away in confusion. “Wha…?” She slurred, wiping the side of her mouth as she sat up. She looked as though she had been in a fight with a grizzly bear and lost tragically.

Luke learned forward. “Time to go.”

She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and nodded. “We’re here already?” She asked sleepily, her voice was scratchy with sleep, rumbling deep from her chest. Luke wished he could’ve slept that good, he could even see the lines imprinted into her cheek from her headphone wire.

“Correct.” He answered as he took off his seatbelt. 

Luke got out with the woman following behind him. He walked slower this time around, not wanting to overwork his knee again. 

The left passenger side door opened revealing Aegon hanging out of the side, similar to Joffrey only his upper half could be seen. A wide grin plastered across his face while his hair was in a tiny ponytail sitting on top of his head with strands hanging in front of his eyes imitating bags. “Hey strangers, we haven’t seen you in forever.” He said cheekily.

“Aegon, get off my lap before I do something I regret!” Jace screamed, earning an eye roll from the blonde.

“Hello everybody, I hope we didn’t miss anything exciting." Alicent said as caught up with Luke, intertwining her hands with his own.

“Not at all. In fact, you’ve just arrived for the good part.” He said shakily as he was thrown out of the car by a very pissed off Jace. 

“And why is that?” Alicent sighed as she watched her son try to regain his stance.

“Aemond is upset…again.”

Luke let go of Alicent’s hand and looked into the car, curious to see what was happening inside. Aemond was sitting in the middle with his legs spread and arms folded, he looked pissed but from what little Luke had gathered over such a short period of time that was the norm. 

Aemond looked over to Luke, his pissed scrowl melting into a small smirk. “Welcome to King’s Landing, little boy.”

Luke rolled his eyes, refusing to reply to such obvious bait. Aemond could play with himself, he wasn’t going to get anything out of Luke. Not even a pissy remark, his obvious goal.

Joffrey noticed the pair staring at each other and raised an eyebrow, eyeing them and down. “Luke, wanna sit next to me?” He asked, patting the very little space available between him and Helaena.

Luke tore his gaze away from Aemond and shrugged. “I guess.” He couldn’t give two shits where he sat, as long as they made it to their destination.

Daemon chose to speak up, replacing Harwin in the driver’s seat. “Not so fast, I have pre planned the seating arrangements so none of you should get ahead of yourselves.” He stated, waving a piece of paper Luke assumed was a seating chart. Very middle school teacher coded.

This earned a whine from Aegon and Joffrey, but they were ignored.

Harwin took the paper from Daemon. “This is how everything is going to go down. Daemon will drive while Alicent sits up front with him. Rhaenyra and I as well as Jace and Hel will be in the back.”

Luke turned to see Helaena fast asleep, next to Joffrey she really is her mother’s daughter.

“And lastly, Luke, Aegon, Aemond and Joffrey will sit in the carrier. Does everyone agree to this arrangement? He asked as he looked to everyone for confirmation.

“No!” Jace shouted as Aegon giggled. 

Harwin shrugged. “Sorry son, everything’s already been planned out.” He said as he took his spot. The tone of his voice was the exact opposite of his words, sounding as though he found his son’s complaining entertaining. Luke sure did.

“Then why ask?” Joffrey muttered, collecting a plastic bag filled with what looked to be snacks and an iPad.

“Do you not want to sit next to us Jace?” Rhaenyra pouted.

“Stop putting words in my mouth.” Jace sighed as he made space for the blonde woman.

Everyone got into their assigned seats, mumbling and cursing under their breaths as Daemon simply sat back, ready to pull off once they were ready. When Aegon opened the trunk Luke climbed in first, making sure to be careful with his knee. Joffrey followed quickly behind and Aemond after him with Aegon making his way in last, almost getting his own fingers caught in the trunk door as he closed it.

Joffrey chuckled while Aemond sighed deeply.

“Oh shut up, as if none of you have got your fingers caught in a door before. "Aegon muttered as he plopped down next to Joffrey. 

Luke leaned back and stretched his legs, laying them out flat as he messaged his thighs. His muscles felt a bit stiff after sitting in that car for three hours straight, his entire lower half was aching from having fallen asleep.

Just then Luke noticed he was next to Aemond, looking to his right and coming face to face with the blonde who already had his gaze on him. “You look relaxed. You enjoyed the jet ride I’m assuming.” He said plainly as if nothing was odd about the apparent staring contest they had going on.

Luke didn’t have a clue who was in the lead.

“You assume correctly.” 

Aemond hummed, cocking his head to the side just a tad as he continued to study Luke’s face without shame. “That’s good.” he breathed. 

“Let’s be on our way. Buckle your seatbelts everyone.” Alicent exclaimed, lifting herself up to look at them through the rearview mirror. The look on her face was stern, he’d never heard the woman curse before but he's sure if she did there would’ve been a I’m not joking you little shits attached to her words.

“Especially the ones all the way in the back. If someone hit’s us you’ll be the first one’s hurt. And I can’t speak for any of you but I for one don’t want to spend my night in the emergency room” Rhaenyra chimed in, looking back at Joffrey who simply smiled under her intense gaze. Putting his hands up in surrender after her stare deepened.

Luke couldn’t agree more. He’d just been released from the hospital only two months ago. A week and a half of beeping monitors, crappy cafeteria food and awkward sponge baths was enough for him. Though he did wonder how Doctor Martell and nurse Vern were holding up from time to time, hopefully fine.

One always thought fondly of the people who held them when they vomited and washed their ass when they couldn’t do it themselves.

“There’s seatbelts back here?” Luke whispered to himself as he looked to his side searching for the belt. He was beginning to feel like an idiot when everyone buckled up while he was flopping around from side to side like a dead fish.

Without warning Aemond reached across his lap over to his left side. “Over here.” He said smugly, presenting the black strap to him. 

Luke snatched the belt out of his grasp in embarrassment. “I could’ve found it on my own.”

“That doesn't sound like a thank you.” 

Luke looked up at him with his own solid smirk. “Because it wasn’t” He whispered, jerking his chin up at the blonde, earning him a smile full of teeth.

This would definitely go well.

“I spy with my little eye, something red.” Joffrey announced suddenly, looking around the car in hopes someone would choose to play along. Unsurprisingly it was Aegon who accepted the challenge. 

He leaned forward, peaking between Harwin and Jace’s head’s to stare out of the windshield. “I don’t know. The red light we’ve been stuck at for the past ten minutes?”

“Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner.” Joffrey sang.

Aegon smiled, looking around for something to keep the game going. “I spy with my little eye…” He trailed off as he focused his gaze on Daemon who had been blissfully ignoring the younger men’s racket in the backseat. “Something old, like really old.”

Luke snorted, unable to help himself.

Daemon shifted his gaze to the rearview mirror to stare at Aegon. “I’m forty eight. Hope and pray to every god out there that you make it to my age because with your stupidity it seems unlikely.”

Aegon scoffed. “Don’t take your anger out on me because you’re halfway to the grave.”

Jace snorted in amusement. “Be serious Aegon, between the two of you, you’re probably going to die first. You tried to put a ball of tinfoil in the microwave because someone on twitter said it would turn into a smooth sphere for fucks sake.” He ranted, turning around to face the idiot in question. It was comical how his eyes widened as he remembered Rhaenyra was seated next to him, apologizing for his crass language. It made no difference considering the woman was too busy playing candy crush on her phone than monitoring them. If that didn’t scream forty year old mom nothing did.

Luke leered at Aegon. There was no way he was actually that dumb. If he was then there was a serious need for a legal guardian because he was going to die in the most avoidable way possible if immediate action wasn’t taken. 

“First of all, I wasn’t actually going to put it in the microwave. I just wanted to see if you would stop me.” 

“Let me get this straight. You acted like you were going to blow up the house to see if I would stop you?” Jace hollered at Aegon’s confession. 

Aegon pouted and fluttered is eyelashes dramatically. Luke could practically hear the animated winking. “I wanted to see if you cared enough to stop me.”

“See, pure stupidity.” Daemon pointed out, sighing in relief once the light turned green after being stuck in place for an ungodly amount of time.

“I suggest you simmer down with the intelligence insults Daemon. There’s a list of things you’ve done I can confidently say were quite dumb.” Alicent cut in.

Daemon smirked. “No need. Just friendly banter is all, isn’t that right Aegon?”

Aegon didn’t answer, too caught up arguing with Jace while Joffrey enjoyed the show from the sidelines as he snacked on his third bag of Cheetos.

“Let Aegon fight his own battles every once in a while, mother.” Aemond hummed once again, a noise Luke was strangely beginning to enjoy hearing. 

“Sounds like someone’s jealous.” Luke muttered under his breath. The older had clearly had something against his mom defending Aegon. Probably nothing more than a classic case of jealousy, something Luke didn’t understand considering Aegon was clearly on the special side of the spectrum. At least Luke was certain he was.

Aemond turned, leering down at the brunette in amusement. “What was that? I couldn’t hear you that well.” He inquired, shit eating grin managing to light a fire inside Luke. He wanted to wipe it off his smug face. Only the second day into this and Luke was already falling back into his tendencies. So much for self reflection huh.

“You heard me, if you didn’t you wouldn’t have that look on your face.”

“And what look is that?” He questions, fiending confusion. The fucker knew exactly what Luke was talking about.

“The one you’re giving me.” Luke retorts.

“I hate to burst your bubble but that’s just how my face looks.”

“You poor thing.” He says fake pity dripping through his tone. The guy looked as though he’s been constipated for forty days and forty nights, he was making the face on purpose without question. Or maybe he just needed to unclench.

“A snarky boy aren’t you. Being nice wouldn’t hurt, you know.”

“So, you consider yourself a nice person?” He raised an eyebrow, face displaying a look of disbelief, basically signaling to the older to cut the bullshit, playful banter or not. 

Aemond sucks his teeth. “I’m a work in progress, what can I say.”

Isn’t that the understatement of a century?

“So Luke, why don’t you tell us a bit about yourself.” Aegon asked, pulling himself away from his and Jace’s screaming match and folding his legs crisscross applesauce. “We’re your new foster family, not to mention our mom has basically adopted you as her own so it’s only proper.”

Luke’s face scrunched up. He wouldn’t use those words to describe their relationship. Though it’s taken a while he does believe she cares for him, and he’s going to soak that up for as long as he can before his inevitable wakeup call slaps him in the face, but Aegon was pushing it for sure. It was extremely easy to take simple gestures of kindness for much more than they were, he was very experienced in that field. And a very embarrassing field it was. 

“Why the face? Is the thought of our mom adopting you that unpleasant?”

Joffrey snorted. “Of course, it is. He’d have to be siblings with you.” 

Luke shook his head. He’s been unadoptable from the moment he stepped foot into foster care, already too old and damaged to attract even the most desperate and damn near hopeless couples. To say someone like Alicent would actually want him to be her fourth child would be laughable if it wasn’t so fucking sad.

The idea that someone like Alicent would think of a gutter rat like him as her child made his stomach do backflips while a sprinkle of hope rose in his chest like oven baked bread. It was embarrassing how even after everything he’s been through he will melt into people’s hands like putty. That’s always been his problem, hasn’t it? Falling too easily.

“What do you want to know? I’m not as interesting as you seem to think.”

“It’s not about being interesting, your family now and we wanna get to know you man. Let's start with the basics, shall we? When were you born?”

The words he and family left a bad taste in his mouth. The last time Luke heard that he was faced down in some dingy hotel room. Some family he was.

“When were you born?” Luke retorted as he laid his head back. He was sick and tired of sitting up right. The middle of his back was sore as hell, and it was beginning to feel what he was positive scoliosis felt like. He needed a fucking bed more than ever.

“September 30th, 2000. I was a week overdue, or fashionably late as I like to call it.”

Aemond scoffed from beside him. Luke could almost sense the annoyance radiating off the guy. It was funny yet incredibly nauseating, like the middle-aged women at Macys who trip over their own feet hounding you to buy a bottle of their store's latest perfume that smelled like grandma and rubbing alcohol. Watching them trying to make a sale was entertaining, but the smell that suddenly hits you when they spray that crap was enough to be labeled as chemical warfare.

“2005.” Luke plainly, picking the dirt out of his dirty fingernails. God’s he was disgusting, he hadn’t gotten the chance to properly groom himself in weeks. 

“Aw, no date? Stop being such a stick in the mud.” 

Luke’s poker face remained intact, still picking at his nails. Not bothering to even acknowledge the complaintive comment. Aegon was going to get what Luke felt like giving, he could bitch about all he wanted; it made no difference to Luke.

“Okay whatever.” He puffed, holding his hands up in defeat. “Favorite rapper.”

Luke looked up at him. “Easy, Doja cat.”

Aegon’s lips turned down but nodded anyway. “She’s good, but I'd say Future’s better. Codeine Crazy is a modern masterpiece.”

Luke snorted, of course he thought that.

Joffrey shoots Aegon a look. “You’re crazy, she has more talent in her pinky than he’s got his entire body. Not to mention she’s hot as fuck.” He shuts his eyes and sighs longingly; Luke assumes to envision the woman in question like a little creep. “The things I'd do if she gave me the chance.” 

“I doubt her type is skinny twelve year olds.”

“I’m fifteen!” 

“There’s no difference.” Luke heard Aemond rumble under his breath.

Aegon poked his tongue out as his face twisted in deep thought. “Favorite song?” 

“Don’t have one.” He answered.

Lie, his favorite song was a tie between ‘Breakdown’ by Mariah Carey and ‘Cherry’ by Lana Del Ray. Both songs were heartbreakingly beautiful, even though breakdown was more fast paced, the lyrics reached into his chest and squeezed his heart for all it was worth. Always managing to make him shed a tear. Luke knew better than to admit that to a guy whose favorite rapper was a notorious misogynist.  

“Who’s the bullshitter now?” Aemond decided to say as he rudely inserted himself into the conversation. 

“Still you.”

“Hmmm,” Aemond adjusts his position with a smirk. “Personally, I think we may have to share that title.”

After a dozen more questions which all branched off into a multitude of conversations everyone fell asleep one by one except for Luke and Daemon. The older man noticed his foster son’s lack of rest but didn’t comment, figuring it was nerves and he would likely get rest once they arrived home.

The sun was in the midst of rising, signaling the true start of a new day. 

Luke was resting with his lead turned facing Aemond, not able to keep away even when the man was dead to the world. He slept as you would expect an asshole like him to, proper and incredibly stiff. Luke knew for a fact the blonde was not comfortable like that, he looked more like he was getting ready to write a ten thousand word essay than getting a good night’s sleep. Back completely straight making for perfect posture, hair only slightly messy, and arms tightly folded as they rested against his chest. 

While he napped Luke was able to get a closer look at Aemond’s face, interest peeking when he noticed a very faint line of raised skin stretching across his eyelid. He scooted just a smidge closer wanting to get a good view while also being as discreet as possible. Luke knew his actions were weird, a bit deranged even. In all honesty he was starting to creep himself out.

Not that those worries stopped him.

As Luke got closer he noticed a part of the blonde’s eyebrow didn’t have hair, looking as though he took a razor blade and made a cat scratch. 

A scar?

“Hey Luke.” Daemon called.

Luke turned slowly, silently yelping as he felt his heart skip a beat. “Yea?” He answered, voice wavering in anxiousness. He didn’t catch him staring, did he? God’s how would he talk his way through that one?

Yea, I was uncomfortably close to your friend's son's face while he’s dead asleep, but it was only for scientific purposes, I swear.

“Welcome to your new home.” He said cheekily.

Luke looked out the window. They were pulling up to an enormous gate, all black bars with golden detailing between two stone pillars. He could feel his mouth fall agape as he took in what little he could see of the neighborhood. Tall green shrubs with various flowers that probably shouldn’t be in bloom considering it was still winter fell from the trees slowly, picking up anf listing through the wind. Mansions that looked like something out of one of those luxury edition home decor magazines. If he squinted really hard Luke was sure he could see a midnight blue Farrari parked at the mansion straight across from the gate.

“You live in Sara Vega now, kid. Remember that name.” Daemon chuckled, while still managing to sound stern as he pulled up to the small booth with an older man standing by, assumingly waiting for them.

Sara Vega, huh? 

Let’s see how this goes.

Chapter Text

Daemon rolled down the window. “Good morning Frank.”

“Good morning to you Mr. Lannister, how was your trip?” The man asked happily, way to chipper for such an early time of day. He was older, from the wrinkles, liver spots covering almost every visible area of skin as well as his fully gray hair and stubble Luke guessed Frank was pushing seventy at the least. He gritted his teeth at the thought of someone his age having to work rather than bask in the joys of retirement. He had to have some grandkids he would rather spend his time with. 

It couldn’t have been easy to be forced to work in your old age, but to work for an entire community of people that had more money than they would ever actually need must’ve been infuriating.

“Wonderfully.” Daemon answered with a genuine smile, absent of any sarcasm or mockery. Luke found it surprising, he was positive the man would brush the elderly worker off like an insect, he seemed like the type to see service workers as beneath him.

Or perhaps Luke was projecting. It was anyone’s guess at this point.

Frank chuckled, causing the corners of his eyes to wrinkle up further like an old shriveled up prune. “That’s what I like to hear. Go ahead and have a wonderful day, sir.” He said as he held out and clicked a small remote. Daemon tilted his head down in thanks, wishing the elder a well day without words. 

Once the gate’s opened Luke was thrusted even deeper into the Lannister’s world. Sara Vega was a neighborhood that stretched out for what seemed like hundreds of miles on end. Mansions with grand entrances resembling castles more than actual houses greeted him at every turn, luxury cars that Luke is certain cost more than an arm and a leg combined were parked out front as if they weren’t worth the effort to park in their garages. 

Luke unbuckled his seat belt and turned around, putting his face as close to the window as he could to get the best view possible, slightly squishing his nose against the glass in the process. Several women passed by clad in workout gear jogging with small dogs that looked like tiny sentient balls of fur more than actual animals. Children in what looked to be preppy school uniforms with lunch pails in their tiny hands skipped down the street without a care in the world.

The further they drove the more Luke felt as though he had been caught in a tornado and transported to the land of Oz. A stranger from another land that was thrown toward a strange world separate from their own. He didn’t belong here; he didn’t deserve to be here.

The grass was unnaturally green, had there not been running sprinklers watering the soil Luke would’ve bet it was the plastic shit cities laid down at playgrounds. There were tall grass shrubs sheared in the shapes of famous houses' mascots. Just by quick glance Luke immediately recognized the lion of house Lannister and the deer of house Baratheon. Both influential and drowning in thousands of years of cash.

Luke wondered what it was like being a part of such a large and respected house. He couldn’t for the life of him understand influencers that were born into this type of life with everything they could have ever wished for at their fingertips yet spent all their time bitching and moaning about the supposed societal pressure to succeed to their millions of broke followers who could only dream of a luxurious life filled with the finer things.

The tone deafness boiled his blood yet made him green with envy. 

Soon the car turned as they pulled into the circular driveway of what Luke assumes is his new home. It was the picture of wealth, a water fountain in the center with spools of water spouting out through the opened mouths of three stone lions holding up the second layer of the fountain, small trees and various flower bushes compiled into a decorative garden which adorned the grand walkway with a white staircase leading to a tall double door inside of an alcove. At first glance one would guess this was the Prime Minister's house, but then again Lannister’s were known to flaunt their wealth. 

In all honesty Luke felt as though he was an intruder simply by being there.

“You might wanna cover your ears kid.” Daemon advised, looking at Luke through the rear-view mirror. 

Before Luke could ask what that meant the older man honked the horn, holding his fingers down to keep it on a continuous loop. Luke quickly covered his ears, holding his hands over his head as hard as he could. The sound of the horn was ear shattering, so sharp he was sure if he hadn't covered his ears when he did his ear drums would’ve burst within seconds.

Joffrey and Jace jumped up at the same time, yelling out in confusion as they immediately covered their ears. Everyone else quickly followed behind, groaning and cursing at the intrusive noise. The only person who remained peacefully resting was Helaena whose ears were protected by a set of headphones. 

“Daemon cut it out!” Rhaenyra yelled as she swatted at the man, eyes closed tight as if shutting them would make the noise cease. This in turn pulled a sadistic laugh from Daemon as he finally let the car go silent in defeat. Despite Daemon waving the white flag her swats didn't let up. The corner of Luke’s mouth turned up at the display, though Rhaenyra was making contact with her husband’s face her hits had no force behind them, love taps were a more accurate description of her actions.

“Fucking cunt.” Aemond grunted from beside Luke. The blonde’s face was scrunched up in displeasure at Daemon’s little joke. He looked disheveled; strands of hair thrown all over with his now wrinkled t-shirt pulled up just enough to put a small patch of skin below his navel on display. Luke can feel his heart skip a beat as he notices a trail of blonde hair. 

Aemond may be an asshole, but Luke appreciated the view. Probably more than he should considering he was Alicent’s son.

“He’s always like this I’m assuming?” Luke asked no one in particular.

Aemond snorted, running his fingers through his blond locks. “Not a day goes by where he isn’t. The man is nothing but an insistent ass.”

Luke rolled his eyes, takes one to know one.

“Everybody get out and get your own stuff while you’re at it. No trying to bribe anyone with fake money.” Harwin lectured, attention set on Aegon instead of the group as a whole.

Aegon huffed, still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “You give someone a fake bill once and you never hear the end of it.” He muttered under his breath as he pulled up the back door and hopped out with no grace whatsoever, landing on his wobbly feet by the grace of the gods. Joffrey immediately followed behind like a shadow as he whined about not getting enough sleep.

Jace gently shook Helaena, her eyes slowly fluttering open as her light snores turned into inaudible mumbling. “Come on Hel, we’re home.” She nodded, letting out a loud yawn as she stretched out her arms, hitting Jace in the cheek in the process.

Alicent looked back at Luke, eyebrows still furrowed from displeasure at the rude awakening. “How did you sleep darling?” She yawned as she covered her mouth. The right side of her face was covered in lined marks, likely from the seatbelt strap digging into her skin as she slept.

“Pretty good, it’s more comfortable back here than I thought it would be. ”Luke answered confidently as he shrugged. He had grown close enough to the woman to feel awful for lying, but he knew if he dared to admit that he hadn't slept a wink in the past twenty-four hours she’d probably pop a blood vessel. And in his experience, he could confidently say it wasn't a pleasant feeling.

Alicent smiled. “That’s good, now let’s get you inside.” She gestured for him to follow she as exited.

Luke sighed anxiously as he moved to get out, only to see Aemond who hadn’t moved an inch staring at him intensely with amused eyes. If Luke was as delusional as he’s been accused of, he would say there was a gleam of fascination hiding there. 

“Is there something you would like to say to me?” He asked, faux kindness lacing his overly sweet tone. 

“Not really.” Aemond smirked , licking his bottom lip before continuing. “I just want to know why you lied and how you were able to do it so effortlessly. You don't strike me as someone who enjoys not being truthful.”

Luke’s lips twisted, he reached over the blonde and made his way out of the backseat, he didn’t have to answer shit this prick asked him. Who the hell did he think he was to ask him something like that? Aemond could go fuck himself with a ten mile long pole for all Luke cared. Who knows, the douche might enjoy it. 

Unsurprisingly Aemond was right behind him, slamming the trunk shut as he stayed on Luke’s tail. Hearing the blonde's small hums of amusement only further lit the fire under his ass, Luke wished for nothing more than to wipe the smug look he knew the blonde was sporting right off his long face.

The same face you wanted to sit on when Alicent pulled that picture out for the first time, don’t forget.

Luke made his way back to Alicent who had been talking to Jace, seemingly about something important from the way their faces were turned down. Jace was scratching the back of his neck, biting down on his lip as worry danced through his eyes. 

“Hey.” Luke waved, hoping he wasn't interrupting anything important.

Jace’s look of worry melted at Luke’s greeting, brightening up like a wilted flower that had been watered for the first time in weeks. “Hey man, how did you sleep? Aegon didn’t snore too loud, did he? I was out cold before him so I couldn’t tell.”

“I slept pretty good, and yes, he sounds like a fucking pig.” His gaze darted to Alicent whose eyebrows were raised at Luke’s brashness when addressing her son. “No offense.” He claimed, puckering his lips at the awkwardness.

“None taken, he is a bit of a snorer. Always has been.” She says, leaning closer to Luke as if telling him a secret.

“Mommmm.” Luke looked around to spot the topic of conversation waiting by the door with a bright eyed Helaena who had her supposed specimen box close to her chest, swaying side to side as she waited for the others. Aegon must’ve heard everything from the way he was pouting like a kicked puppy. Oops, I guess.

He’ll live.

“Don’t take it personally sweetheart, I love you no matter how loud you snore.” Alicent shouted as she attempted to soothe her son's bruised feelings.

This in turn only embarrassed Aegon further, he stomped his foot on the ground like a toddler and folded his arms. Helaena on the other hand couldn’t seem to care less about anything going on around her, too entranced in her own little world. Despite that, she lifted a hand and rested it on her brother’s shoulder, rubbing soothing circles as she mumbled something. The scene made Luke raise an eyebrow, yet it resulted in a toothy smile to bloom on Aegon’s lips.

Though it was weird, Luke couldn’t help but find the sibling’s interaction to be incredibly sweet, a warm sensation pooling in the pit of his stomach. Luke wiped at his eyes, knowing what was about to come next. Looking at close family interactions from the outside had never been easy for him. Pining is something he feels very strongly, jealousy and loneliness are a close second. 

Ever since Luke could remember he’s always been an observer to familial bonds as opposed to experiencing them. He never had the picture perfect nuclear family with a dog and white picket fence. He’s never experienced what it feels like to stay the night with grandparents while they bake sweets and tell you stories about their own childhood. 

Family was something his younger, more naive self pined for desperately, driving him to tears most days.

In elementary school he knew a pair of siblings that were in the same class as him, the bond they shared with each other brought out feelings inside of Luke that he couldn’t pinpoint at the time. His chest burned every time he saw them embrace or laugh with one another. Why had his mom never given him a sibling? He could be a good big brother, he didn’t have many toys, but the few he did have he would gladly share and give his younger sibling all the piggyback rides he never got.

That was his first real experience with jealousy, an emotion he would unknowingly become the best of friends with. His only true companion.

He soon got over it, at least he’s sure he did. Mostly because as Luke got older he had a bit of an epiphany; having a sibling to look after in his situation would’ve been pure hell. The more bullshit he went through the more Luke thanked the gods that his mom never brought another poor kid into this world.

There were more than enough people suffering; there didn’t need to be another.

On rare occasions Luke would be placed with a couple that were already fostering a pair of siblings, a small naive little brother or sister that didn’t understand why they couldn’t go home to their parents, too young to digest and accept whatever shit situation the god’s put them in and in turn taking in out on the other. The older sibling, who was sick and tired of the bullshit, who had to give up everything for the younger, whether it was the clothes off their back, the food on their plate, or even a minute of privacy. All luxuries they could no longer afford. Luke always breathed a sigh of relief that he wasn’t the poor soul stuck in that situation.

“You should stop making that face. He’s not a kitten, he's an overgrown toddler with medically low intelligence.” Aemond whispered from behind him. Luke flinched, not having noticed the taller man dangerously close to him until now. “I’m not making a face, fuckface.” Luke hissed.

Aemond smiled tauntingly. “Incorrect.” He spit out before walking past to meet up with his siblings, hands held behind his back like a forty year ol d divorcé with a rebellious teenage daughter who was raising his blood pressure. The oldest looking and acting nineteen year old in existence.

Before Luke could reply Rhaenyra and Harwin met up with them with numerous bags of luggage in tow. “This way Luke.” She said excitedly as she gestured for him to make his way up the stairs. He looked to Alicent who in turn smiled and took a hold of his hands as always. 

“C’mon dad open the door already I gotta pee.” Joffrey whined as he hoped back and forth on both legs in desperation. Luke felt his own pelvic muscles twitch in sympathy, going hours on end with release was pure torture. The kid had to be uncomfortable considering that Luke is certain he drank at least four bottles of sprite on the way.

“I told you to stop drinking all that soda, but you didn’t want to listen to me, did you? Now you have to wait.” Harwin scoffed as he tried to find the correct key. After the first thirty seconds of fumbling around with them Luke came to the conclusion that Harwin was fucking with his son deliberately.

“Harwin,” Rhaenyra called out, unamused with the man’s actions.

Just then the door unlocks with a loud click and creaks open, the smell of gardenia and lemon wafting out with a cold breeze. Luke’s breath is stolen from his lungs as the air travels by in soft waves. Most of everyone immediately runs in to unpack and settle, relieved at finally being home after weeks of living in an entirely different state.

Luke barely moves, still in body and mind. He can feel Alicent’s grip tighten around his, worried yet ready to guide him through this unfamiliar and quite frankly suffocating environment.

Rhaenyra also remains by Luke’s side, looking to Alicent with worry, wordlessly asking her if Luke was okay. The brunette smiles, assuring her friend that he was fine, simply overwhelmed. Something she herself understood very intimately.

Luke squeezed Alicent’s hand, finally gaining the confidence to step forward, the final step towards submerging himself into the Lannisters' world. There would be no coming back from this once he enters, agreeing to be their foster son and ward. He would be vulnerable at every turn and forced to comply with every rule they gave, something he had always struggled with. 

Bad decision making was in his nature; all he could hope for was that his future self didn’t do anything stupid to fuck everything up. Again.

His throat was scratchy and dry as though he had opened his mouth wide and dunked his head into a bowl of sand and forced it down the hatch. A weird taste suddenly appeared on his tongue; Luke slightly cringed as he realized it was acid that had climbed up from his stomach, itching to spill itself onto the floor below him. His clothes felt too tight, and his shoe’s seemed to be too rough on the sensitive soles of his feet, suddenly his palms began to itch as the suffocating feeling of dread dug deep into his once warm chest.

Frighteningly beautiful was the only word he could use to describe the home.

The floors were pristinely white, glistening in the light shining down from the glass chandelier, two grand staircases stood in the middle of the home leading to the second level, both lined with dark brown rails. As Luke’s gaze reached higher his eyes landed on the rectangular opening in the ceiling, similar to the one at the hotel. Yet this opening had gold and red dragons carved into the glass, seemingly dancing around each other causing a small rainbow like light to glimmer down. As Luke stepped forward he noticed the dragons weren’t dancing but tightly embraced, the fluid gold lines sparking from the sun giving off the illusion of movement.

A husky laugh pulled Luke out of his gazing. He looked forward to see Harwin sitting on a large couch as everyone laid down and relaxed, too tired to make the effort of going back to their rooms.

“Admiring the art?” He laughed.

Daemon scoffed on the opposite end of the couch with a shot of what Luke immediately recognized as whiskey in his hand, swirling it around before taking a small sip. Luke’s mouth twitched down in disgust. Whisky tasted like rubbing alcohol that had been poured into a burnt wooden bowel, wretched enough to cause a massive headache. 

Owen had always preferred it, egging Luke on to take a few swigs even after he had expressed the drink made him want to spit up. Sometimes Luke would frown after they kissed, the taste of whiskey strong on the older man’s tongue as he licked Luke’s own. He always ended up with his head in the toilet bowl after the man insisted on kissing him while drunk off of the dark liquor.

“Of course he’s admiring it. He chose us as his foster parents, he’s clearly a young man of taste.” Daemon smiled as he wiggled his almost nonexistent eyebrows. Luke had to clench his jaw to stop himself from informing the man he didn’t have many other options besides him and Rhaenyra. 

Between the Lannister’s and jail, the former sounded better to Lukes ears. Not to mention there were literally no other prospects to choose from.

You also didn’t want to disappoint Alicent you ungrateful ass.

He ignores Daemon; choosing to analyze the living area everyone seems to have decided to crash in. There were two large sofas, one facing the large back window while the other was up against the wall along with a few matching chairs, all having their own matching decorative pillows. Aegon and Jace were sprawled across the second sofa. Aegon was laying upside down with his legs thrown over the head of the sofa like a monkey. Jace on the other hand sat normally, legs spread with his eyes closed promptly ignoring Aegon tapping his knee.

Aemond was on one of the chairs leaning forward as he unpacked a green duffle bag, mumbling curses under his breath while taking the opportunity to glare at his brother in barely controlled anger every few seconds. 

Square in the middle of the area was a round red, black, and gold rug which was embroidered with a large dragon as well. The creature was gold with red scales and sharp horns, taking on a fearsome stance as it breathed red and orange flames. If he was anyone else’s home Luke wouldn’t think twice about the numerous amounts of dragon imagery, the entire world had an unhealthy fascination with the long dead beasts. They represented the magic this shitty world once held in the palm of its hand. What Luke did find odd was that a family of Lannister’s were so fond of the creatures.

It’s no secret that even thousands of years later the Lannister’s weren’t particularly fond of Targaryen’s. Luke didn’t have an extensive amount of knowledge on the subject having been a low class bastard himself, but he was sure it had something to do with the Targaryen’s never wanting to intermingle with the golden haired house through marriage. 

In short, the Lannister’s were butthurt and carried that through the years even after the house went poof. Luke honestly respects their ability to hold a grudge. 

Luke let go of Alicent’s hand, now confident enough to explore on his own. “I thought you Lannister’s didn’t like anything having to do with Targaryen’s.” He questions as he steps foot on the rug, inspecting it up close. Squinting his eyes at the small symbols scattered around in red. 

Daemon chuckles darkly. “Most Lannister’s are cunts.”

Family issues, huh? 

Luke makes his way towards the large back window, as he gets closer he notices that the window isn’t in fact a window but a sliding door to the backyard. His hand rises to the glass, basking in the cool sensation on his palm. The backyard looks more like a resort than a family hang out area. An enormous pool, what looks to be a step up jacuzzi and a shit ton of toys and other pool equipment scattered all around.

Luke tilts his head as he sets eyes on a dragon pool floaty lazily making its rounds across the water. “Nice house.” He breathes mostly to himself. 

“You think that’s cool? You ain't seen shit.” A voice Luke automatically recognizes as Joffrey yells from atop the second floor. Luke looks up to see the boy peering down at him with a look of excitement, no longer holding his crotch desperately.

“Language!” Rhaenyra yells, reprimanding the teen. At this point she should just give up and let him say whatever he wanted because her nagging wasn’t accomplishing a thing.

Joffrey laughs, ignoring Rhaenyra’s irritation at his colorful choice of wording. “Aegon, let’s give this young man the grand tour, shall we?” He says in a weirdly formal tone, now with one hand behind his back with the other across his stomach mimicking that of a stereotypical butler in some cheesy movie. Aegon sits up so quickly one would think he was being called on to help in an emergency. He throws himself off the couch almost flipping over in the process, catching the armrest of the chair just in time before landing on his head which pulls a laugh out of Jace and Daemon alike. In the distance he can hear Alicent once again chastising the pair for laughing at her son.

The blonde manages to stand up straight and take a bow. “Yes, we shall. Come forth young Luke and let us give you a tour of this humble abode.”

Luke hums, humble isn’t a word he would use to describe the castle they so nonchalantly called a home. obnoxious, overkill, or gluttonous even would be more fitting.

“You don’t even live here.” Jace scoffs dramatically as he stands up, ready to get into another argument with Aegon. Luke raises an eyebrow, he’s not sure if Jace realizes it, but he’s coming off as a pissy bitch. A trait Luke doesn't find as endearing on the older as he did with Blondie. Maybe it’s because Blondie actually had a valid reason to be an annoying drama queen.

Luke’s chest closes up with longing at the thought of the bleach blonde. He tried to give him a proper goodbye, but he obviously wasn’t in the place to receive it. Luke wonders how he’s doing, how Simone’s doing too. Are they okay without him and Ceil? Is Simone doing well in physical therapy? They only had about two sessions together, but he knew Simone was struggling to even stand without his shoe supports.

It hasn't even been three whole days and he misses them severely. After spending such an extended amount of time in each other's vicinity Luke is struggling to be his lone self once again. A feat he’s not sure is working since he’s been stuck to Alicent’s tit like a toddler.

“Here they go.” Harwin whispers, nudging Daemon’s shoulder at the pair. “Like clockwork.” Daemon agrees.

Aegon holds him hands up. “I know you love to argue with me, Jacey, but we must show Luke around his new home. We can take off where we left later.” He says sweetly before clapping his hands and gesturing for Luke to follow in his lead.

Luke goes along, too amused to do anything but laugh at Jace's face which is now beat red and spreading to his neck at a rapid pace as he’s left stuttering. Eventually after accepting defeat he follows behind the two deciding to chaperone the house tour, it’s his responsibility as well anyhow.

As the young men head to the second floor Aemond watches them intensely, eye’s more focused on Luke than the others who have become simple background characters in his eyes and decides to follow along as well. 

Only to help in case his halfwit brother accidentally cuts himself trying to show Luke Daemon’s sword collection of course.

Once all the kids are gone Alicent and Rhaenyra shove the men over so they can make room on the couch. Happiness and the warm feeling of completion runs through their hearts as they hear screams of laughter from upstairs. Rhaenyra lays her head on Harwin’s shoulder as Alicent puts a gentle hand on her thigh. “I almost lost hope, now we’re here.” She admits teary eyed, hiding her face in Harwin’s neck as he rubs her back lovingly. Sitting his chin on her head as he closed his own eyes.

“We were always going to get here, Nyra.” Alicent assures her friend, the other half of her being.

“All I know is that they better not fuck with my Burbon.” Daemon sneers, but the smile that takes over his face and the wetness in the corner of his eyes betrays his harsh tone.

Their family was whole.

Exactly as Luke imagined the second floor is just as grand as the first. Big windows with sheer curtains letting in an abundance of light throughout the long halls, expensive looking abstract art on the walls that was likely made by some con artist who didn’t even make their own shit, as well as large flower vases decorate the long corridors by giving the pristine surrounds a splash of color. 

Though there was art everywhere Luke turned the house still felt empty , for lack of better words. Like there was too much space to fill leaving it more like the hotel lobby they only just left rather than a home.

“There are three main important bits to the house that you need to be as familiar as possible with. Number one is the man cave, aka our place of peace away from the women in our lives, then it’s our theater slash game room where I admittedly spend a large portion of my time, and of course the garage.” Aegon explains with three fingers held high.

Joffrey’s eyebrows fur. “What about the backyard?”

Aegon pauses before putting up an extra finger. “There are four main important bits to the house that you need to be familiar-”

“And shouldn’t we show him downstairs first?” Jace asks as they escort Luke down a long hallway. Only a few minutes into their little tour and a fight is already in the early stages of bubbling up.

Aegon looks back, a look of confusion taking over his pudgy face. “All that’s down there is the kitchen, washroom and Daemon’s study so why would he need a tour of those? It’s not as if he’s going to have to cook or wash anything. If anything, my mom and Rhaenyra can show him that if he’s interested.” He finishes with an unsaid duh.

“You realize a house tour involves showing someone around the entire property, correct? Not just the parts you like to hang around in while everyone else is at work.” 

Luke turns to see Aemond standing only a few inches behind them with a look of absolute boredom. It makes the hairs on the back of his neck rise as he wonders how the man managed to make his presence virtually undetectable. Had he been there the entire time?  And if so, why did he tail behind like a creep?

“Exactly.” Jace agrees, face dropping when he realizes he happily agreed with Aemond of all people.

“That’s where you’re wrong brother. This isn’t just any old house tour, it’s a house tour with yours truly as its tour guide making it completely different from whatever you have in mind.” Aegon corrected smugly, wrapping his arm around Joffrey's neck.

Aemond shrugs, not caring to argue with his brother about something so minute. “Whatever you say.”

“Good, now follow my lead everyone.”

Eventually Aegon and Joffrey lead Luke to a brown double door all the way down the second hall covered in stickers of cartoon characters, sticky notes with dicks and other crude drawings written on them that Luke has a feeling were the work of his supposed tour guides, and what looked to be family photos taken at different locations. 

When he notices Aegon and Jace have yet again gotten into another minor argument he figures he might as well be nosey.

Luke leans in as he catches sight of a polaroid of a couple he’s never seen before, a woman with jet black hair with her arms wrapped around a tall man with salt and pepper dreadlocks pulled back into a low ponytail. Between them are two girls with blonde hair probably around eight or nine years old. The first girl was sporting a pixie cut with teal blue streaks while the other had dreadlocks pulled up in a tight bun with a petal pink flower crown.

“That’s Corlys and Rhaenys.” Aemond tells him.

Luke nods. “And the girls?”

“Baela and Rhaena, their granddaughters.” 

“So those are Daemon’s daughters?” He asks unsurely, since there’s supposedly more than one Aegon around Luke figures it might be the same for others as well. Who knows, there might be another less douchey Aemond hiding somewhere in the basement from this ass wipe due to the shame of having to bear the same name.

Aemond clicks his tongue. “Correct, they were in Essos on a trip, but they should be back by Monday.” 

Oh, more people to meet, great.

“Rhaenyra said she thinks I’ll get along with them.” Luke throws out, unsure of why he’s telling the blonde.

Aemond hums. “I’d have to agree with her. You three have a similar personality type.”

Luke raises an eyebrow. “And what may that be?” He asks, finding himself curious as to how the man truly sees him. Or at least how he claims.

“The type that sees everything but shares little.” He breathes, looking right into Luke’s eyes.

Luke doesn't answer, feeling naked under Aemond’s gaze. He instead opens the door and heads in, knowing that if he continues to wait for Aegon and Jace to get over their lovers quarrel he’s going to be waiting forever. He can hear Aemond laughing as he follows behind without hesitation. 

Luke’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline as he takes in the miniature theater. He feels like an idiot for being taken off guard considering he was basically told what to expect. But in his defense, being told someone has a movie theater in their house and actually seeing it in the flesh are two different things.

“Holy shit.” He breathed.

The room was dark gray suede with wooden floors, a big fuzzy carpet was placed in the middle between the theater screen and the lounging couches that had been pushed together to create one big sofa. Under the screen were multiple speakers and gaming consoles, each with what Luke was sure were custom controllers.   

“Is that…?” Luke asked, pointing to a popcorn machine in the corner of the room. 

“A popcorn machine? Yes, it is. Have you never seen one before?” Aemond snorted, smiling at Luke’s fascination with everything he laid eyes on.

The side of Luke’s top lip pulled up in annoyance. “Why are you such a sarcastic dick?” He asked.

“I don’t know, why are you one?” Aemond questioned back with a puzzled look. Luke could see in his eyes that the blonde was having a good time fucking with him, it was becoming incredibly old extremely fast.

“I’m only a dick to people who deserve it, so far from what I’ve seen you’re a dick to everyone.”

 Aemond tisked, shaking his head at Luke’s observation. ”Not to my mother.”

“Mama’s boy much?” He laughs, making his way over to one of the numerous sofas. He sighed when he made contact with the seat, it was soft and plush, way more comfortable than any movie theater seat he’s ever sat in. ‘

Aemond did seem like the type of guy to be attached to his mother’s hip like a flesh eating parasite. Every time his gaze landed on Alicent something behind those harsh blue eyes melted and filled with love. Luke couldn’t blame the guy, Alicent had a way for burrowing into your heart and tugging at it with all her might. Forcing you to feel close to her, like nothing in this shit world could touch you if she was by your side.

Luke basked in it, knowing that like all things having Alicent’s love would soon come to an end, that he was living in borrowed time. All he could hope for was that their bond wouldn’t end with her regretting taking him in like Tessa did. Though she had good reason to despise him, what he did was unforgivable.

Aemond glares at him, confusion quickly taking over his face. He follows Luke over to the couch and takes a seat right next to him. Luke doesn't miss the way he glares towards him before settling down, as if waiting for Luke to tell him to find somewhere else to sit. “Were you not a mama’s boy?” He asks gently, genuinely curious.

“No.” Luke answers truthfully, having a hard time trying to figure out why the other would assume such a thing.

Aemond looks taken aback, mouth slightly opening before biting his lip as he tries to figure out how to continue. “I shouldn’t have assumed.”

Luke huffs. “Whatever.” 

“It’s just that you seem like the type to have a close bond with your mom. I mean, from the way you act with mine it clicked in my mind that you simply missed your own.” He tried to explain, tripping over his own words. A drastic difference from the asshole who Luke had been conversing with previously.

“Not really.” Luke says plainly, making it as clear as possible that his personal life wasn’t something up for discussion.

Thankfully, Aemond, unlike his brother, was able to catch on and leave the subject alone. 

“Can I ask you a question?” 

Aemond nods, “Go ahead.”

Luke takes a deep breath, not sure why he’s asking Aemond of all people but pushing forward anyway. “Does Alicent do this sort of thing often? Or at all?” He asks with uncertainty. 

Aemond’s nose scrunches up at the question, gesturing for Luke to give him more. 

He sighs, feeling his cheeks heat up. “You know, bringing in strays to live with her friends. How often does she do it?” 

Aemond looks taken aback, eyebrows furrowing at Luke’s question. He looked as though he wanted to call Luke a moron but refrained. “She’s brought some others over for family dinners or outings, but never to live for an extended period.”

Luke licked his dry lips, taking another deep breath. “Good to know.”

Suddenly the door opens revealing Alicent and Rhaenyra. 

“There you are Luke; I need you to come with us. We forgot to explain the sleeping arrangements we set up beforehand so we figured now would be a good time.” Rhaenyra announced as she huffed, obviously out of breath just as her friend was. Had they run up here?

Aegon appears from behind her, clearly displeased with the situation at hand. “Hey, we’re supposed to be giving him a tour. We haven’t even gotten to the good parts yet.”

“You say that but from what it looks like you’ve been out there arguing with Jace the whole time.” She tisked.

“Nyra’s right sweetheart, you blew your chance. You’re going to have to give him a tour later on.” Alicent said matter of factly, walking over to Luke and pulling him off from the couch like a rag doll. Does he really weigh that little?

Before he’s whisked away, Luke catches Aemond’s gaze, hot and intense.

He doesn't mind.

The women guide him to his new room giggling like schoolgirls. Alicent has her arm wrapped around Luke’s back while Rhaenyra keeps a gentle hand on his shoulder, happier than words can rely as Luke no longer cowers from her touch, at least while Alicent’s around. It’s a start she tells herself, things will get better gradually, she knows they will.

“You’ll be in the room next to Jace and across from my Aegon. Is that fine? There’s another room closer to me and Daemon if you would be more comfortable with that.” Rhaenyra asks.

Luke shakes his head, assuring the woman that his current placement is fine. Jace seems like a decent guy so far and if he remembers correctly then Aegon is only thirteen, so there’s nothing to worry about there. Besides, he’s not in any place to make demands such as where he should be allowed to sleep. All he needs is a bed that’s warm enough to keep him from shivering at night, everything is irrelevant in Luke’s eyes.

As Alicent opens the door and pulls Luke in he’s at a loss for words. The room is huge, way bigger than necessary for only one person. The walls are pale blue and the floor is dark gray panel with little streaks of white mixed throughout. Rather than a singular chandelier which seemed to be in every room he’s seen thus far there were various small circular lights built in the ceiling.

What really caught Luke’s attention was the wall across from them which had been replaced completely by a large window and matching sliding door leading to a small balcony.

Luke lets go of Alicent’s hand and rushes to the door, sliding it open as soon as his hand touches the lock. A cool breeze hits his face, the wind singing in his ear as it gently passes by. The sun shines down, breathing warmth onto his pale cheeks. The view is indescribable, almost godly. He could see everything King’s Landing had to offer as the view stretched out for days, a private bird's eye view of the world below him.

“Do you like it?” Rhaenyra asked shyly.

Luke turned to her, a cheesy grin plastered on his face. “Do I like it? This is fucking incredible.” He giggled nervously as his breathing began to increase, his emotions running wild as he tried to get ahold of himself. “W-why are you giving me this room? I’m sure you have something better to do with all this space.” He questioned, voice laced with a mix of curiosity and confusion, even a slight bit of insecurity hiding beneath the surface. 

Rhaenyra looked taken aback by his inquiry, her smile gradually falling into a frown as she stepped closer. “Alicent told me that when you left… That place for the first time you basked in the sun like a little puppy.” She chuckled. “Daemon and I figured you would like the balcony..”

Rhaenyra sighed, desperately wanting to pull him into her embrace but knowing she shouldn’t push it. Her heart broke into smaller and smaller pieces each time it dawned on her that she couldn’t express her love the way she so desperately needed to. “I want you to believe me when I say that there is nothing more of a priority at this moment than your comfort and letting you know that you’re safe with us.”

When Luke kept quiet she continued, her frown deepening as she came to the conclusion that she had to change her words to provide the dough eyed boy a reason he’ll understand. “Trust me when I say that the room is no big deal. Every room in this house is similar in one way or another, alright?”

“Sure.” He nodded, Looking back at the view once more before heading back inside.

Just as he walked back in Luke’s eyes landed on the biggest bed he’s ever seen in person, it had to be king sized at the least. 

He laid down on it and let his body melt into the mattress like butter. Though there were no sheets it was the warmest bed Luke had ever had the pleasure of resting his head. A small sigh of relief escaped his lips as he rolled over, taking the time to enjoy the cloud-like softness, no longer caring if the women turned their noses up at his obvious lack of etiquette. Luke was on cloud nine.

“I told you he would like the Vi Spring.” Rhaenyra sings as she jumps on the bed next to Luke, causing the brunette to release a giggle of his own. Alicent walks over and sits between them, letting out a relaxed moan as her body slowly contours to the softness below her. “Whatever Nyra.”

Rhaenyra snorts and lets out a triumphed laugh, proud that her decision proved to be best. 

Luke sits up, taking his time to examine the rest of his surroundings. There was a flat screen tv mounted to the wall across from his bed with a ps5 hooked up underneath it, undoubtedly untouched and fresh out of the box with a single gaming controller and two tv remotes positioned next to it.

His brow raised in suspicion, there was no way on god’s green earth they brought that for him. Jace’s room was next to this one, perhaps it was his. 

Alicent stood up. “Oh I almost forgot about the stuff, Nyra be a darling and help me with it.”

Together the women open one of the two doors to the left and pull out a big box. They pick it up together and bring it over to Luke, sitting it down in front of him as Rhaenyra begins to tear the tape off excitedly like a child on Christmas day. She pulls out three white boxes and shoves them in Luke’s hands, grinning as she steps over to sit next to him.

Once Luke takes a look at the items he goes still, whipping his gaze towards his foster mother. “An iPad?”

She grins like the cat who got the cream, jittering in excitement. “As well as a computer and phone, nothing too extreme really. You need a phone for obvious reasons, but you’re also going to start school soon and these are just a few of the essentials. Especially since you’re going to be learning virtually.”

Alicent lets out a hum in agreement. “Speaking of essentials, we are in dire need of a shopping trip. Not only do you need your own wardrobe, but I’m sure you would like to decorate and make the room your own as well. Less sterile and hotel-like, no?”

Luke doesn't know what to say, his fingers swipe across the plastic covered gifts with curiosity. They were fresh out of the store, still wrapped in plastic and emitting the indescribable smell of something new. Luke’s mind was going a hundred miles a minute trying to understand why they've brought him all these expensive gifts. A prepaid Samsung from Walmart would’ve been good enough. 

But this? He was holding no less than five grand in his skinny arms, unsure of where to continue from here on out. Having such large amounts of money spent on him made Luke uncomfortable. There was always a catch, a payment to be owed after expensive things were thrown in his face. With Owen it was his body, using Luke at his disposal whenever he pleased and however he pleased. So, what would the payment be now? 

“Decorate?” He mumbled. 

Alicent’s eyes pooled with worry, Luke wasn’t as happy as she thought he would be. “Of course, this is your room.” She looked to Rhaenyra for help, not knowing how to deal with the boy’s sudden saddened mood.

“Alicent is right, this is your own private space. We want you to do whatever you want with it, make it feel like home.”

Luke shook his head. “I appreciate it, but this is too much. You've done enough for me already.”

“Luke-”

“No!” he grunted, fed up with the pushiness. “I- I don’t need any of this alright? Just give me a few sheets for the bed and some clothes without holes in them and I’ll be fine.” 

They had already done enough; he didn’t need to be anymore indebted to this family more than he already was. The thought made him itch like crazy, his legs were beginning to feel as though he had rubbed them against a bush of poison ivy.

Both women were stunned into silence at Luke’s sudden outburst, looking at one another as they pathetically tried to find the words to respond. 

“I would like to be alone for a while if that’s fine.” He whispered, making sure to keep his face down. 

It took them a few minutes of awkward silence, but they eventually granted Luke’s wishes. Before Rhaenyra left she looked back at her foster son and cleared her throat before speaking. “Dinner is at seven, but if you don’t want to come, I understand.” 

All that followed was silence, uncomfortable damning silence. Enough to force its way down your throat and suffocate you.

The door closed gently leaving Luke to drown in his own mind.

Hours had gone by. 

The bright sun and blue sky eventually began to say their goodbyes. The sun lowered into the horizon, while the sky morphed into a mix of orange and purple; signaling to the world that night would soon be approaching. Luke had been engaged in a staring contest with the items on his bed for the past hour and a half, not knowing how to proceed. On one hand he knew for a fact that nothing in the world was handed to you freely, if he took the gifts happily, he had a feeling it would be thrown in his face later on. 

Most would say he was being paranoid; Luke would tell them they don’t know shit.

All foster parents throw what they’ve done for you back in your face sooner or later.

I feed you. I cloth you. I house you.

He’s been beaten for as little as ruining a black shirt with bleach by dirt poor pricks, so what would happen if he showed his ass and broke a fifteen hundred dollar Mac? Rhaenyra didn’t come off as aggressive or easy to anger, but her husband did. He wasn’t built like Harwin, lacking the obnoxious amount of muscle, but he gave off an uneasy aura. Luke had a feeling the man didn’t shy away from violence.

Would he use a belt? An extension cord? The possibilities were endless.

Luke sighed, wiping at his glassy eyes. He felt like he was betraying Alicent’s trust by having these thoughts. Sure, she assured him time and time again that the Lannister’s were good people, loving people without malicious intent. But the voice in the back of his head always got the better of him.

Would he hit the carbon copy of his wife’s dead son though?

Lucerys…

Luke laid back; his eyes were becoming heavier as time flew by. Surprisingly he didn’t find himself fighting back. He needed this, he needed peace and quiet.

He closed his eyes and let the sandman’s gentle touch take him.

.

.

.

I'm flying above the unforgiving waves of an endless ocean. I look down, greeted by the sight of dark water crashing against jagged rocks. The strong scent of sea salt penetrates my nose flowing to the top of my head, it’s unpleasant, stinging. The sky is dark, gray clouds have blocked out the sun. Rain pours down from the sky soaking me, causing my clothes to become heavy upon my shoulders. The weight of them was almost unbearable, layers of wet fabric resting on my skin resulting in a deep itch all over my body.

A heavy presence looms behind me following my every move, never letting me out of its sight, dead on my trail. I'm being watched. Every fiber of my being is telling me to escape before I'm snatched up like prey and devoured down to the last bone.

My hair is drenched from the rain causing water to drip down into my eyes, the sting makes my eyes water further. There's a heavy feeling at the pit of my stomach, bile is rising up the back of my throat until it’s kissing my tongue.

The skies above me somehow become even darker. What little traces of light that peeked out from the clouds only mere moments ago have completely dissipated.

Looking up, I'm finally greeted by the cause of my unease. A beast, a monster out of nightmares stretching out so wide it seemed like it wanted to challenge the heavens. It flies right over me, steadily searching, waiting to make its move and devour me whole.

Strong gusts of wind breeze across me delivering the voice once again.

A different voice roars out from above me. Gruff and menacing, laughing out in pure unfiltered joy almost as if they were playing a sick, twisted game. I look back only to see the monster has managed to sneak up behind me. I'm greeted by merciless jaws opening wide and quickly snapping shut ready to kill anything unfortunate enough to come across its path. Teeth as sharp as daggers and a long slimy tongue coated in grayish saliva.

The beast's breath was burning so hot it was near scolding and the smell of rotten meat was now etched into my brain. It felt so close, as if it was leaning right up against my neck.

I swoop low, dashing through the clouds trying to make out a way to lose the monster. I dash left, right, then left again and descend even further down towards the ocean. My pursuer is still laughing, clearly having the time of their life.

I feel my body swerve to the right and go through what looks to be a rock formation. Tall, jagged rocks creating a thin narrow passage large enough for me to slip through with ease. I look back again shocked to see the behemoth no longer behind me. It must be too big to get through here, thank the Gods.

The Gods don’t look down on me with favor much longer as my luck soon runs out when I come out on the other end of the formation into the beast’s territory. I can sense it, both the man and his beast’s eyes focused directly on me never letting up. Watching closely, ready to blindside me with an attack.

Laughing is soon replaced by the sound of grunting and yelling. The person starts shouting in what I can only make out to be frustration and seemingly annoyance. As if the chase was no longer fun, more frustrating than thrilling. I can't figure out what they are saying. The words make no sense to me. Sounds roll off their tongue that I can't relate to anything I’ve ever heard before. 

That voice, those sounds. They sound so familiar, so real…

I’ve heard that voice before, I know I have. But where?

Where have I heard it from?

Suddenly I turn and dash up making my way towards my assailant. As soon as we cross paths, fire, a burning unforgiving flame is spat out straight across the creature's face. 

As I go higher the air seems to become thinner and I'm doing myself no favors by breathing so heavily. However, that doesn't matter because I finally see the light. The clouds lighten from a harsh mix of black and gray to a soft fluffy white. Bits and pieces of the sky have become blue once more and the sun shines so brightly that I have to turn my head away. At last, there’s no more screaming, taunting laughs or roars of rage, just pure silence. 

At that very moment an Earth shattering screech thunders throughout the sky.

My head immediately snaps towards my front and all I can make out are teeth and the same smell of rotten meat but by the time I realize my fate it's already befallen me. I can feel my body being impaled on what feels like dozens of spears, I hear the crack of my own bones breaking and the squelch of my innards bursting open.

My body is spat out, spiraling downwards towards the unforgiving waves of the ocean. I can see blood, it looks sort of like red mist as it flows through the air along with pieces of flesh and other, larger body parts I can’t recognize raining down along with it.

My vision goes black.

.

.

.

My eyes snap open.

I’m greeted by the soft waves of the sea crashing down on the bumpy rocks scattered across the ocean. The strong smell of salt penetrated my nose, calming.

Peaceful even.

I looked up to see clear blue skies, not a cloud to be seen nor did a drop of rain fall down. A small flock of what looked to be seagulls flew by, greeting me with their loud chirping.

A pinch at my toes stole my attention, I peeked down to see a small red crab nipping at my toes. 

I pick the creature up. It’s small, fitting in the palm of my tiny hand almost perfectly. The crustaceans’ claws are nothing to be scared of, they’re no bigger than the current size of my thumb. Sticking my finger out, I let the little thing grab it. The points of its claw pinched hard enough to hurt but weren’t sharp enough to break my skin.

The crab's shell has white and pink specs covering the pale red base, there are also a couple barnacles littered on its back. A tiny strip of slimy seaweed was stuck between its legs.

I walk over to the water and gently place the creature in, letting it float away with the waves.

Sand is gathering between my toes; I wiggle my toes together causing the small grains of dirt to tickle at my skin. 

I stare forward, mesmerized by the waves coming high only to soon sink low in the distance.

“Luke!” A deep voice I don’t recognize calls out.

I look up, face twisted in confusion as I attempt to find the source of the voice calling out to me.

“Luke, come back!”

I turn around. There are two people in the distance, one with their arms wrapped around the other, both waving out to me, calling for me to follow.

“Come my boy, it’s urgent!” The person calls out, voice filled with sorrow, thick and heavy with tears.

Luke places the crab back to the sand, watching as it scatters away in fear.

He steps closer to the figures in the distance, squinting his eyes as the sun blocks his view of the mysterious figures.