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After they placed the crown on his head, Jacaerys Targaryen wept.
Luke could do nothing for his brother but hold him, stroking his hair and rubbing slow circles onto the back of Jace’s hand where their fingers were clasped. At no more than seven and ten, Jace had to bear the weight of the crown, the weight of their mother’s death, the weight of their younger brothers being passed into their care. It was a burden no one his age should have had to bear. But Luke would never let him bear it alone.
Jace’s coronation had been a solemn one, occuring in the throne room itself with only the Lords of the Realm present. The death of their mother by the hands of the Usurper had been almost too much to bear—their little brother Viserys hadn't stopped crying, and Luke had to rock him throughout the entire coronation to keep him quiet. Fealty was sworn to Jace easily—the men of the Realm had heard of his victory after victory for their mother’s war, and of his kindness. He would make a fine King.
Lord Corlys was named Jace’s hand, even as old as he was. He was wise and loyal to their family, to Luke—they knew he could be trusted. An entirely fresh small council had to be brought in, men that Jace threatened coldly and who he made kneel before both him and Luke. Jace’s small council advised them to search for families for their youngest brothers, as a young King like Jace had little time to care for three children. But Jace bared his teeth, growled and said that he would not let his brothers from his sight.
By order of the King, their quarters had then been rearranged–a room for Jace and Luke with two smaller ones to the side. A room for Joff and a room for Aegon and Vis. The council had been shocked at Luke and Jace’s decision to share a room, but they had always been close and it made things easier for when their little Egg had to come to them for relief from his nightmares. They slept on opposite sides of the bed, though sometimes Luke allowed himself to wish that Jace would close the gap between them and hold him in his arms.
It was hard work—running a kingdom as well as raising their younger siblings as their own. But Luke loved them, and he loved Jace, and neither of them would let their mother down. They had to do right by her, even after she had passed on.
***
After their treatment as children in the training yard, Jace trusted no one other than his own hand to continue Joffrey’s training with the blade.
Some of the people in the Keep whispered about how it was admirable, the King caring so much for his own brother that he would oversee his training personally. Others viewed it as impractical–a waste of time for the King to concern himself with such matters. Luke heard all of these whispers as more, but Jace had told him not to listen. It doesn’t matter what they think, Jace had told him in this very training yard, all those years ago. And it didn’t. How they ran their family was of no business to anyone but them.
Their septa was watching Aegon and Vis for the morning, so Luke decided he could use some fresh air—as polluted as it was in King’s Landing. So here he was—out in the training yard, perched atop a weapons rack while Jace gently took Joffrey through different swordplay positions. Luke could see the strain on Jace it took to be a patient teacher, but it was one Luke was grateful for. When the two of them had trained together, Jace had been harsh on him, sometimes pushing him too far until they were both near tears.
(“I worry about you,” Jace had admitted once, while they were patching wounds from their training. “I’m sorry. I know I can go too hard sometimes, when we train. But I need you to be able to defend yourself, Luke. I need you to be safe. Do you understand me?”)
But the crown had mellowed him, and now Jace was as gentle as a river on a summer’s day with their Joffrey. Luke hadn’t picked up the sword in a while—he was far too busy these days, helping Lord Corlys with ship legers and tending to their younger siblings—but he still knew the art well and enjoyed watching Jace and Joffrey dance with their blades.
“Spread your legs a little wider, Joffy,” Luke suddenly spoke. Joff and Jace both looked over at him, smiles spreading across their faces when they realized who had come to join them. At Jace’s nod, Joffrey dropped his wooden blade and ran over to Luke. Luke laughed, wrapping Joffrey in a hug and pressing a kiss to the top of his head.
“I swear you get taller every time I see you,” Luke teased Joffrey, ruffling his curls. “Is Jace being nice to you?”
“Is Lord Corlys being nice to you?” Jace sheathed his own sword, coming to stand next to them too. Luke moved to hug him but hesitated, unsure if he could. Everything between them had gotten so complicated—with the weight of the Realm on their backs and their brothers they had hardly any time to be just Jace and Luke. Strange feelings had begun to stir in Luke’s gut whenever he looked at Jace, but neither of them had any time to unpack what that meant.
“It was a busy morning,” Luke finally replied. “We went through the ship records from Pentos. Grandsire needs to speak with you about that too, Jace, once you’re finished here. But I figured I would come watch for a bit, then we could go back in together?”
“Luke,” Joffrey butt in, clearly annoyed at the lack of attention he was receiving. “We’re working on my parry today. Do you want to see?”
“Our Joffrey is turning into quite the prodigy with the sword,” Jace ruffled Joffrey’s hair, and Joffrey beamed at the praise.
“Well, I have to see now,” Luke smiled. “Impress me, Joff. I do want to see.”
He had never seen an eight year old grab a wooden sword faster than that moment. Joffrey was quick to show off his skills—while juvenile still, and clearly young, he was a natural talent with the blade. Luke smiled sadly when he realized how much he resembled Harwin in that moment, and he imagined Joffrey becoming a knight one day.
Luke clapped when they finished fighting, and Joffrey ran back over to him, chatting excitedly. Luke wrapped him in his embrace and looked up to catch Jace’s eye, who was looking at the two of them with something akin to pride in his eyes.
And if Luke’s eyes lingered on Jace’s form, dripping sweat as he was, that was no one’s business but his own.
***
Luke was woken up by a crash of thunder and a flash of light so bright it illuminated their rooms.
Jace could sleep through just about anything—Luke was fairly certain the entire Keep could burn down and Jace would sleep through it without a care in the world. So of course it was Luke’s fate to be wide awake, unable to find sleep again while a storm raged on outside their window. Realizing he wouldn’t be falling back asleep any time soon, Luke rose, tying on a robe and sat by the window to watch the rain.
It reminded him of Driftmark. The sun shone little there, rain and storms often ravaging the island. He had gone with Grandsire to visit a few moons ago, to learn more about the island and the castle and how he would one day run it. It pained him to think about–he was no longer the scared boy he once was when his Mama had petitioned for his succession, but he was still terrified. Terrified of leaving the Red Keep someday—of leaving Joffrey, Aegon and Vis. And Jace.
The rain poured on. Luke rested his forehead against the edge of the window.
He had finally decided to accept the strange feelings inside of him. Luke was in love with his brother, the King of the Seven Kingdoms—and perhaps he had been for as long as he could remember. But what could he do about it? Jace did not feel the same way about him. And more importantly, they had a kingdom to run, and three young children that they had to care for.
“Muña?” Luke smiled. Think of them and they shall appear. Little Aegon was standing in the door to his and Jace’s chambers, night clothes on and looking entirely downtrodden. Muña was fairly new too, but Luke loved it. For a while, when Egg and Vis called him that, he felt guilty. Like he was betraying their mother’s memory somehow. But he knew he could never replace her—now he was just all his little brothers had. And he loved being their Muña.
(He wondered if one day they would call Jace kepa. But Jace spent less time with the children because of his duties as King, as much as he hated to be separated from them. Their brothers loved Jace, yes, but Luke was unsure if he was their kepa. And yet—Luke knew, truly, that it was only a matter of time. He wanted that so badly it made his chest ache—to be the muña to Jace’s kepa.)
“Come here,” Luke said softly to Aegon, holding out his arms. Aegon practically ran over, throwing himself onto the window seat next to Luke and burrowing himself in his arms. “Did you have a bad dream, sweet boy?”
Aegon nodded and Luke cooed sympathetically, stroking his blonde hair. Aegon had been forced to watch their mother die. Luke had nightmares about it too—as did Jace—but Aegon was far too young to have witnessed such a thing. It would likely haunt him for the rest of his life.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
When Aegon shook his head, Luke hummed and continued to stroke his hair. Softly, he began to sing a lullaby in High Valyrian, the rain underlying it to make a soft melody. They stayed that way for a while, Aegon’s tears wetting the collar of Luke’s robe while he sang to his little brother.
“Hey,” Jace’s sleep filled voice sounded from next to Luke and he startled, stopping his song. Aegon looked up at him briefly to protest, but smiled when he saw Jace. “Oh, my love. Bad dream?”
“He doesn’t want to talk about it,” Luke whispered. Jace nodded and reached down, picking up Aegon and settling him on his hip. He was getting a little too big for such a thing, but that was no matter to Jace, who lifted him like it was nothing.
“Do you want to sleep in here tonight?” Jace asked. A nod. “I bet you’re tired, huh? I know it’s hard having dreams that keep you awake.” Another nod. Jace gestured for Luke to follow and he did, the three of them settling onto the bed with familiar ease. Jace and Luke slept on either side with Aegon in between them, protecting him and making sure he felt safe.
“Will you sing again, Muña?” Aegon asked quietly once they were settled. Luke noticed Jace’s wide eyes at the name, but he paid him no mind.
“Of course,” Luke answered. Jace stroked Aegon’s hair again as Luke resumed his song. The two of them made eye contact over Egg’s head and Jace gave him a soft smile, mouthing I love you. Luke ducked his chin, cheeks flaming. He knew what Jace meant—like a brother, but it still made him feel like he had been set alight. When Aegon’s breathing finally evened out, Jace reached over to grab Luke’s hand.
“Okay?” Jace whispered, careful not to wake Aegon.
“Okay,” Luke mouthed back. And for just a moment, it really was.
***
Time passed. They continued to heal.
Jace took Joff riding on Vermax while Aegon and Vis took turns on Arrax. Aegon’s dragon was still far too small to ride, but Tyraxes was getting larger every day. Luke knew it would only be a matter of time before Joffrey took to the skies. Jace tentatively helped Aegon learn to use a wooden sword, encouraging the boy to come farther out of his shell. It was slow going, but between the two of them they could sometimes get a smile to light up Aegon’s face. The sight of it was magical.
But being the King didn’t become any easier with time. Jace still had to spend long hours locked away in his solar, even with Luke’s help. There was so much to be done, issues that sprouted from their family’s fruitless war still peppered throughout the Realm. Jace’s problem was that he was so good and just. He wanted a solution that would help everyone, and was never satisfied until he found it.
It was one such night where Luke had to put the children to sleep by himself. Aegon and Joffrey, to his great surprise and pleasure, had gone down easily after their morning of riding. But Vis was fussing, no matter what Luke had tried to get him to sleep he wouldn’t.
Kepa, Viserys had said, to Luke’s shock. Wanna see Kepa.
The hour was late and Luke wanted to go to bed himself, but he needed Jace. Luke knocked on the door to Jace’s solar gently, adjusting Viserys on his hip. He had tried their chambers first, hoping Jace had just retired early for the night, but when there was no answer he had to come all the way over to this wing of the Keep.
“Come,” Jace’s quiet voice came from inside his solar. He sounded exhausted and Luke closed his eyes for a moment, a wave of sadness crashing over him before he squared his shoulders, pushing open the door with his free hand.
“Hi,” Luke said softly. Jace looked up at him, a soft smile spreading across his face at the sight of Luke.
“Hi,” Jace answered, closing the tome he had open on his desk. “To what do I owe the pleasure? The hour is very late. Shouldn’t our little one be in bed?”
“He wanted to say goodnight to you,” Luke brushed back Viserys’ hair with one hand, encouraging the boy to come out of his spot hidden in Luke’s neck. “Didn’t you, Vis?”
Vis did look up, blinking slowly and smiling when he saw Jace. He held out his arms and Jace cooed, reaching over to transfer him to his own arms. Luke smiled at the sight of them together. He could imagine, in the dark and quiet of Jace’s solar, that they were a family, a real one, where Jace was the father and Luke was the mother and—
“Kepa,” Vis said softly. “Kepa.”
Jace looked up at him in shock. Luke just nodded.
“That’s right,” Jace said in awe, as if he couldn't believe his ears. It was the first time Viserys had called him that. “I’m your Kepa, baby.”
Vis nodded, satisfied. His eyes began to droop and Luke tutted softly, taking him back into his arms. When he locked eyes with Jace, his eyes were wet with tears.
“Goodnight, Kepa,” Luke whispered, then nudged Viserys. “You too, baby.”
“G’night, Kepa,” Vis waved. “Can I have a kiss goodnight?”
“You can have anything you want,” Jace leaned over, pressing a kiss to the top of Vis’ head, then his forehead. Viserys giggled. “Now go to bed, sweetheart, or you will be a terror for your septas and your Muña to deal with in the morning.”
“Uh uh,” Vis crossed his arms, and Luke had to adjust him again to keep him from tumbling straight from his hold. “Give Muña a good night kiss too, Kepa.”
Jace hummed, and without hesitating placed a gentle kiss on Luke’s forehead. Luke gasped softly at the feeling, and he knew that when Jace pulled away he was terribly and rather embarrassingly flushed. Jace paid it no mind, smiling at the two of them.
“I’ll be along soon,” Jace told Luke. “Do you think he will sleep?”
Luke recovered quickly. “I think so. If not, I’ll sit with him a while.”
“Not too long. You need rest too.”
Luke waved him off, adjusting Vis a final time on his hip. His forehead still burned from where Jace had kissed it, and he heard Jace’s laughter in his heart all the way back to the children’s chambers, through putting Vis to bed next to Aegon and slipping into their bed. He was still warm when Jace slipped into bed beside him, and instead of keeping his distance Jace pressed a sleepy kiss to the back of Luke’s neck, gathering him into his arms.
“I love you, Lucerys,” Jace slurred sleepily. “Thank you.”
“I love you too,” Luke whispered back, closing his eyes. It almost felt like Jace meant it.
***
Luke blinked awake to the feeling of Jace wrapped around him, his nose pressed to the back of Luke’s neck. Luke sighed happily. Jace was holding him—he was still dreaming. Wanting to make the most of his dream Luke turned in Jace’s arms, smiling at the sight of his peaceful face. When Jace slept he looked young again, like the boy Luke loved to tease back on Dragonstone. Or the boy you took someone’s eye for, an uglier, darker part of him reminded, but he pushed it down.
This would be a good dream.
“Jace,” he whispered softly. When Jace didn’t wake up Luke smiled, running a finger down the straight part of his nose, stopping on top of his lips. That was what seemed to wake Jace up, his eyes opening slowly. He pressed a kiss to the finger that Luke had rested on his lips.
“Baby,” Jace whispered. Luke nodded, his chest flooding with warmth. Never in his dreams had Jace called him that but Luke liked it, he wanted to hear it fall from Jace’s lips again and again. He wanted to never wake up. “Is this a dream?”
“Yes,” Luke sighed, and then Jace moved down to kiss his neck. Luke gasped at the feeling, throwing his head back and shutting his eyes.
“Look at me,” Jace said softly. Luke opened his eyes to see that they had shifted, Jace hovering above him on the bed. “There you are. Can I kiss you?”
Luke nodded eagerly, and Jace smiled, grabbing one of Luke’s hands in his own before connecting their lips together. They were rougher than they usually were in Luke’s dreams but he didn’t mind, eagerly parting his lips to allow Jace access. Jace’s free hand came up to tangle in his hair and oh it was perfect, it felt so real that tears threatened to spring in Luke’s eyes.
“Good boy,” Jace told him softly. “Mother of my children, my Luke, my Queen.”
“Yes,” Luke answered again, their kiss growing more heated. He could imagine it—their wedding, where he would be draped in pearls and Velaryon blues, Lord Coryls would give him away and Jace would look so handsome in his armor, and their kids would be there too, Joffrey and Viserys and Aegon dressed in the colors of their house. Luke wanted it so badly that his stomach burned. He wished it wasn’t a dream. He wished that Jace truly wanted him in the way that he wanted Jace.
Satisfied with whatever he had seen in Luke’s eyes, Jace’s hand darted lower, cupping Luke through his sleep clothes. Luke arched into the touch, gripping Jace’s wrist and nodding. Jace smirked easily, his fingers dipping beneath Luke’s waistband.
“I’ll make you feel so good, my wife,” Jace growled, and Luke nodded frantically.
“Jace, please, please—”
A sharp knock sounded on their chamber door. They both froze.
“Your Grace,” came the voice of one of Jace’s Kingsguard. “Lord Corlys has requested a meeting with the two of you at your earliest convenience.”
Luke felt like a pail of frigid water had been dumped on top of him. Things like this didn’t happen in dreams. That meant that–
“A moment please, Ser Marcyn,” Jace cleared his throat, voice pitched a little lower than Luke was used to. “Tell Lord Corlys we will see him after our noonday meal.”
“As you wish, Your Grace,” they listened for the retreating footsteps of the guard before turning to one another. Jace was still practically on top of him, his lips still tinged red from where Luke had kissed him.
“Luke,” Jace said softly. “I’m so sorry, I swore—”
“The fault is mine, I thought—”
“I would never—”
“It was a dream, I—you wouldn’t?” Luke frowned, the way Jace had said his last protest so resolutely making his chest ache. Jace had kissed him back. For a single moment, he had allowed himself to hope.
“I thought I was dreaming,” Jace sat up, scooting towards the end of the bed, back facing Luke. “I’m sorry, Luke, I took advantage of you—”
“You did no such thing!” Luke scrambled off the bed after him, moving so that he was standing in front of Jace, so that Jace had no choice but to face him. “I wanted you to. I… I thought I was dreaming too.”
“You dream about me?”
“You dream about me?” Luke parroted back. Jace sighed, running a hand through his own curls. They had gotten so long, but Luke adored them that way.
“I never meant for you to know,” Jace continued. “This… desire I held for you. Yes, we are Targaryens, but we have lost so much. I did not want you to feel burdened by my feelings for you. It’s just… seeing the way you are with Vis and Egg and Joff, it awoke something in me. I have always loved you, Luke, since I knew what that meant. But never before have I wanted to act on it like I have in these past moons.”
Luke felt his heart in his throat. Jace loved him. Jace wanted him. He felt heady with it, this realization that they had been wanting one another in secret washed over him like rain.
“I love you too,” Luke rushed out. “Jace, I adore you. I want you in every way that I should and every way that I shouldn’t. When Vis called you Kepa last night, and I Muña it felt so…” he trailed off, waving his hands. Jace grabbed one of them in his, pressing a kiss to his knuckles.
“Right,” Jace finished for him. “It felt right.”
“And you called me your Queen,” Luke continued, blushing slightly at Jace’s actions. “Were you…”
“I meant it,” Jace admitted, and Luke’s knees almost buckled with the weight of the admission. “You already hold the responsibilities the Queen would, Lucerys. But I want to wed you, make you my wife, make you my Queen so that all the Realm knows how deep my love for you is.”
Luke took a shaky breath. “I want that too. And I want…” suddenly embarrassed, Luke ducked his head, his free hand coming up to brush along his stomach. Jace caught on immediately.
“You would give me the loveliest children,” Jace said in awe. “That’s something you want? Truly?”
“I think we have established our mutual want for one another,” Luke teased, looking back at Jace again. “Could we… could you kiss me again? Please?”
“Oh, my darling,” Jace breathed, standing up to face Luke. When they stood face to face like this, Luke barely came up to Jace’s shoulder. (Jace had sprung up like a tree when he was six and ten. Luke hadn’t, although he was still certain there was time.) Jace wrapped his arms around Luke’s waist. Luke smiled, and went up on his toes to bring their lips together.
They kissed lazily, softly, getting to know one another in the only way they hadn’t yet. Luke felt as though he was soaring on Arrax, the wind rushing in his ears and his cheeks pink from happiness and exertion. When they finally parted, Luke gave Jace a cheeky grin.
“So… we’re going to get married? Do you want to tell the kids, or should I?”
“Yes, baby. We’re getting married,” Jace responded, and overwhelmed with the headiness of getting everything he had ever wanted Luke sighed dreamily, placing a kiss to the side of Jace’s neck that was quickly becoming his favorite place in the realm.
“Like, tomorrow?” Luke pouted. “We could have been together years ago—if what you told me about your desires is true, we wasted so much time. I want to get married tomorrow.”
“Not tomorrow, sweetheart,” Jace said, laughter evident in his voice. “There’s no way we’ll be able to get married without me asking Lord Corlys for your hand first. You remember that I am the King, right? And you the future Lord of the Tides. It will have to be an entire affair. And I have to actually propose to you, anyway.”
“Doesn’t this count?” Luke asked. “You told me we are getting married.”
“And we are,” Jace soothed. “You just deserve a real proposal. One where I’ll give you a ring and tell you all of the things I love most about you.”
“You can tell me all those things now,” Luke said haughtily, tossing his hair over one shoulder rather importantly. “I want to hear them.”
“You’re terrible,” Jace said, amused. “You’ll hear them when I decide it’s time for you to hear them and not a moment before. Or I’ll pick someone else to be my Queen.”
Luke’s eyes flashed, something terrible burning inside of him. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Wouldn’t I?” Jace smirked, pulling away from Luke with a wink. “Maybe someone else in King’s Landing will be nice to me.”
“I can be nice,” Luke whined, grabbing Jace’s waist and kissing his shoulder. “I can be so nice. I swear.”
“Somehow, I don’t believe that,” Jace said, but dropped it, turning in Luke’s grasp to kiss him properly. “I don’t want someone nice. You know that right? I want you, Luke. No matter how terrible you are.”
“Poor you,” Luke quipped, starting to walk Jace back towards the bed. His mind swam with all sorts of things they could do on that bed, what he had been dreaming about since they had placed the crown on Jace’s head, what they had started before being interrupted. “You have to put up with me for the rest of your life. How ever will you make it?”
Jace pushed Luke’s shoulder gently, sending him tumbling backwards onto the bed. He crawled over him, kissing Luke soundly, keeping him pinned to the bed. When he came up for air, Jace’s eyes looked hazy, and a dreamy smile was plastered on his lips.
“Lucky me,” Jace whispered, and he went back in for another kiss.