A Different Kind Of Dance

by FreyaSky

Summary:

Basically Lucerys manipulates the shit out of Aemond and makes sure to get him on the black's side, taking out the biggest piece of the chessboard of the green's hands. And everyone's reaction to it (mostly everyone, as usual Vizzy t. ignores everything so only the green's and Joffrey and Daemon react-for now-, also Luce gets a chapter too so we get his perspective on it).

Notes:

First of all english in NOT my first language, so if there is some mistakes pls comment about them so i can fix them, also there might be some weird sentences or smth that does not go well together bcuz this was written first in my mother tongue (which did not sound good) n translating the sentences from my mother tongue to english might come up weird, i tried my best to make them as perfect as possible but there might be some mistakes, so pls comment if there are bcuz i have no beta reader. I did get ai to proofread it, so if u have a problem with that pls leave, i get that u might not like it but u don't need to tell me that i shouldn't do it bcuz it's embarrassing or whatever, this is my story n i'm gonna write it n do it like how i want. On that note, i did wrote this mostly with help from my mother who has a degree in my mother tongue n is pretty good with english (not enough that she'll tell me this sound like u got help from ai or that it's pretty obvious that i did use ai), she also doesn't know the characters exactly n i haven't read the books in a while so i might do the character's wrong or do them like how i perceive n remember them but are not exactly how someone else does. If so pls stop reading n exit out, u have a right not to like what i write but don't come at me bcuz YOU don't like how i wrote things. Almost forgot to mention, i don't know how to write the romance aspect (i have no real word experience of that shit n honestly don't want to find out), so it's only implied that that's how Lucerys manipulated him-trough seducing him or whatever, thh i don't know how much what i wanted to imply got transferred here, so just a warning if it's not good or u didn't get it n mention that i shouldn't have put the ship tags. Also this is tagged as Daeron/Joffrey, so if u don't like that pls leave, even tho it might not be outright romantic it's still in the tags, so if u don't like the tags don't read, i don't have the patience for people on the internet to tell me how to write MY story. For the rest of you, I hope u like it and thank you for reading.

Chapter 1: The Queen's Loss

The hall glowed with gold and laughter. Chandeliers dripped candlelight like molten jewels, their reflections rippling across polished marble. Music filled the air — lilting, triumphant, threaded with the hum of victory and new beginnings.

It was a celebration. A wedding. Peace, or what passed for it, between dragons.
Jacaerys and Baela were wed beneath the eyes of gods and men, and the court applauded as if they truly believed it would last.

Alicent Hightower smiled because she must. Her hands rested gracefully on the table before her, the queen’s composure practiced, unbreakable. But her knuckles whitened against the goblet’s stem.

She told herself it was fatigue. The wine was rich, the hall too warm.
But she knew better.

From her place beside Viserys, she could see everything — every false smile, every shift of allegiance dressed as courtesy. And among them all, one sight drew her gaze again and again, no matter how she tried to look elsewhere.

Aemond.
Her most disciplined son, her sharpest blade.

He stood just beyond the dance floor, half in light, half in shadow, speaking to Lucerys Velaryon. His nephew. His rival. The boy who had taken his eye and lived to boast of it.

They should have been enemies across the battlefield of memory. Instead, they stood too close.
Lucerys was laughing, soft and low, his dark curls gleaming as he tipped his head toward Aemond. The movement was careless, intimate. And Aemond — her Aemond — was listening.

A smile ghosted across his face. Not cold. Not mocking.
Warm.

Alicent’s throat tightened.
She did not know when the air had become so thin, or when her son had begun to smile like that.

Otto murmured something to her left, but she barely heard him. Her gaze stayed fixed on the pair. The music swelled, dancers spun in silk and jewels, and still — that flicker of connection remained.

Aemond leaned closer, as if Lucerys had said something meant only for him.
Lucerys’s eyes lifted, and in that instant, they found hers.

He knew she was watching.

The boy’s grin sharpened. He raised his goblet slightly, a mock toast across the distance, and with deliberate slowness, his lips shaped the words — silent but unmistakable.

I win.

The meaning struck like a blade turned sideways — no blood, only the ache of it pressing into the bone. Alicent’s breath caught. She did not move, could not.

Lucerys held her gaze a heartbeat longer, smirk curling, eyes bright with triumph, before turning back to Aemond — who, oblivious or uncaring, said something that made Lucerys laugh again.

Aemond smiled in return.

That was worse than any blow.

Alicent forced herself to breathe, shallow and even. The hall had not changed — the music still played, courtiers still danced — and yet everything in her world felt tilted.

She reached for her goblet, but her hand trembled faintly. She steadied it against the table, fingers tightening around the cool metal until her knuckles turned pale.

Otto’s voice broke through the haze, low and edged. “He is speaking to the Velaryon boy.”

“I see him,” she replied, her tone measured, as if the words cost her nothing.

“He should not.”

“He is.”

Her father said nothing more, but she could feel his disapproval radiating beside her, sharp and deliberate as a dagger laid flat.

Across the hall, Lucerys leaned in again, whispering something that drew the faintest curve to Aemond’s mouth — not his usual smirk, but a smile. A real one.

Alicent’s stomach turned to lead.

Beside her, Viserys was smiling too, lost in the glow of his grandchildren dancing together. The King saw peace where there was only surrender.

Alicent saw it for what it was — a shift, subtle and irrevocable.
A thread snapping.

Her son — her most loyal, her fiercest — was drifting beyond her reach.

And Lucerys Velaryon, that silver-tongued viper in a prince’s skin, knew it.

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Alicent did not rise. She did not speak.
The queen of the realm sat in her place of honor, watching her careful world begin to tilt on its axis, a quiet smile fixed on her lips as everything she had built began — ever so softly — to slip away.