#ghostcerys

The sound of skin and bones hitting metal was the only thing that could be heard, the guards looked blankly at the scene before them, but inside they could not believe and did not want to see the now king Aegon beat his brother, Prince Aemond.

In the same way he did with the assassin called Blood.

But it was little, his heir had died and all for his uncle, paying the debt of “A son for a son”, making the king filled with hatred for his uncle and secretly -in their eyes- his own brother.

– You took my son from me… – he said breathlessly and raised his arm with the iron bar, delivering a blow again to Aemond's face – and you took my omega from me…IT'S NEVER ENOUGH FOR YOU!

He screamed.

After days holding in the feeling of bitterness and pain for the horrible news his brother brought after Storm's End, trying not to hear his mother's speeches and his grandfather's harsh words again, he swallowed it all and pretended so well…

That the death of the only omega he had loved and desired had died at the hands of his brother...also not giving Aemond the satisfaction that he had already wounded him, that he had finally won.

And then his tragedy happened, his son, his heir murdered.

Aemond had, again, taken away a person he considered his, from his property and the damned one did not seem sorry for what he caused in him, only showing his sympathy and comfort to his sister.

– Lucerys belongs to me – still beaten, with a purple eye and cheekbone, with blood dripping from his chin, he smiles mockingly – and you know that perfectly...your majesty.

The mockery in his voice, the look of superiority and the way he referred to him…

Again he raised his arms and dealt another blow.

It hurt.

Because it was the truth, but he would never admit it out loud, no word of what he said about the omega would come out of that dungeon, Lucerys Velaryon would never be named again.

He would avenge his son, he would make Daemon pay and make him suffer so badly that he would beg for death.

He would leave his brother to the end, the murderer of the omega he desired and the cause of the death of his son, he would not leave anyone without paying for his suffering.

“Qybor”

The steps stopped, his only eye looked over his shoulder, white folds were the only thing he saw in the corner at a distance from his path, he standing there for a few minutes, stoic face in the abandoned hallway, a storm was the only thing that could be heard and he knew that the servants would be busy securing the windows and putting away the training ground equipment so that it wouldn't be ruined, so-

Who was calling him?

He turned back and continued to his steps, the thunder echoed in his ears like daggers, hurting him, but he refused to pay attention to them, because in front of him he could see whoever was calling him, completely dressed in white and with bare feet, soaked, brown curls stuck to his neck and his footsteps leaving prints in the hallway.

“Qybor”

He lost sight of “him” when he turned in a hallway, “he” started running, ignoring him and only calling him with “his” voice, even so, he didn’t get bothered and continued the meaningless game that the other was making him follow…he stopped at the sight of the door to the throne room ajar, there it was, he felt it.

“Qybor”

The voice and the thunder now rumbled at the same time, the pain moved to his chest for no reason, again he ignored it to walking to the throne room with determined and heavy steps, finally he was in front of the door and pushed it slowly with his only one-eye looking at what the candles illuminated, the air, the throne and “him” felt so heavy.

In front of all the swords at the foot of the throne “he” was- Lucerys Velaryon had his back to him with a totally different image, he was wearing a thick nightgown torn and splattered with blood from the sides to the end of the folds, where Vhagar bit him, he could see in one of his ankles the mark of the dragon’s teeth.

- Lucerys…

With his hands behind him, he began to walk without fear, without guilt, his only eye now fixed on the silhouette of his nephew, the same one he had killed, who turned to look at him, he remained the same and so different- his skin was still so pale, but now there was no color in his face and his eyes were dead, two clear lifeless wells and his hair that once shined in softness, was dull...but he was still just as beautiful, he was still HIS Lucerys, he was standing there at the throne that he knew, that EVERYONE knew, should be his.

Maybe this was the sign he had been waiting for so long and his Lucerys was giving it to him, even in the death by his hand, he kept coming back to him.

“Aemond”

The water was beginning to cool and his muscles were still sore from the constant flights in Vhagar, he had to do it, he need to do it, the war would not stop, the massacres would continue, now it was a “them” or “us”, peace was no longer an option and it would be ridiculous to try to get it.

He grunted, rubbing his shoulder, eyes closed.

- Was it worth it?

There he was again, his voice, his damn beautiful voice.

Opened his eyes, in front of him, in the tub was the reason why they called him “Kinslayer”, soaked with his dark hair stuck in his face, his empty eyes and strangely pink lips, as if he were alive, as if he were with him right there.

- Uncle? – his dead eyes looked directly into his one eye, demanding an answer – Was it worth it?

Aemond tilted his head, examining “him”, his skin paler and the mark of his dragon's teeth on his sides, there was no more blood, but the wound was still red, as if it were healing.

– Was it worth taking my eye, Lucerys? – finally he spoke, leaning forward and taking his face with both hands, caressing it with devotion – was satisfactory for you?

“Lucerys” brought his hands between his, guiding his right hand to his lips to kissing his palm.

– I don't regret it – he whispered as he separated his cold lips from the warm skin – it was Jace or you, my brother…or the uncle who hated us.

– I didn't hate you – he pulled Lucerys's face sharply, bringing it closer until it touched his nose – not until that night.

– Was it worth it then?

His breath was just as cold, but his smell was sweet, like the lemon cakes he used to force him to eat when they were children and steal them from the kitchens, Aemond kept every memory of his childhood with him inside his dark heart, when he was happy, when they were still innocent...

When he still doesn't hurt him, when Lucerys would never betray him.

– You know the answer, taoba.

He only heard his laugh, the same one he hated and loved.

– Aemond?

Turning to his side, the witch of Harrenhal was looking at him with a raised eyebrow and with a robe in her hands, she knew what was happening.

– The water is cold, next time make sure they heat it well, Alys.

– Of course – with a smile she approached and handed him the black robe – did he come again?

Did he did it?

No. Lucerys never left, he didn't leave, his ghost would follow him until the last day of his life, just like that moment.

And he liked that, now he would have him by his side, Aemond was tormented all those years by the hatred in his lost eyes and now that negative feeling disappeared like smoke, he could enjoy the company of the ghost of Lucerys hunting him.

The ghostcerys delusions prevail 🙏🙏🙏

(link)

GHOSTCERYS GHOSTCERYS GHOSTCERYS