DANCING WITH DRAGONS ;; a collection of imagines.

lucerys velaryon ; the lordling and the girl

⁀➷ summary ; requested by anon.

"So I want to request headcanons (or one-shot Idk) Luke with a fem! servant! reader (or else u can choose!) that absolutely loves to tease and fluster him, or maybe, just a relationship between them?? It doesn't matter actually I just want more stuff with Luke lmao."

⁀➷ pairing ; lucerys velaryon x servant!reader

⁀➷ notes ; for the sake of this fic, both you and luke are the same age and there will be NO sexual innuendos. just minor schoolyard teasing and kitty fluff. also this is kinda short, my apologies :(

lucerys velaryon was a short-sighted enigma.

one day, he could be playful; his laughter bouncing off the walls of dragonstone and bringing life to the dreary, volcanic castle. another day, he could be so serious and stone cold, almost like he was like another aemond targaryen reincarnate.

but one thing was for sure, he did like his mothers personal servant girl.

a pretty thing, without a doubt, you were drastically different to the white silver locks of hair he had grown accustomed to seeing. with a radiant smile and giggle that made his heart flutter a little faster and his face flush, he didn't know what this meant.

i mean, he hasn't even spoken to you himself.. yet. he hardly even knew your name.

he could go out and seek an answer to the weird feeling he was getting. maybe he was sick and you happened to cause it to become obnoxiously obvious? no, doesn't sound like any sickness he's heard of, at least. growing up in a family of mostly men was also difficult – he didn't want to be jested or ridiculed, it was the one thing that annoyed him the most.

jace, without a doubt, would do such thing. he wasn't always a reliable source of knowledge either – his elder brother would probably blow the idea out of proportion and involve their mother. thats the one person lucerys wants to keep out of this conversation. perhaps his step-father, daemon? he would be too enamored by rhaenyra to make jests of the situation, then again, he also didn't seem like a reliable source to take wisdom from.

perhaps.. rhaena? who else better knew about this sort of thing than girls?

once luke had paced up and down his room, trying to formulate his questions without sounding.. odd, was weird. he left his room and greeted the the knight that stood at his door. he turns on his heel and makes haste to find rhaena.

he's too busy walking briskly down the endless halls and corridors, that he doesn't notice you holding a tray of desserts. his body collides with yours, the tray is thrown from your grasp and little cakes are sent flying. your arms flail desperately as you try to find something, anything, that will break your fall.

to no avail, you land on your back against the floor and lucerys' weight on top of you is painfully obvious.

"get.. off me!" you say through a struggled breath, your hands moving to grasp his shoulders and roll him over to the side. he helps you and flops rather ungracefully against the cold floor on the other side of you.

he's the first to sit up, eyes wide with horror and mouth open wide. he doesn't even realize who had had.. oh no. he turns to observe your face, drinking in the appearance of disheveled hair and clothes that were now evidently marked yellow with cake. he looks down at his own clothes, a gasp leaving him as his hand scramble to swipe away the yellow crumbs. his mom is going to kill him.

there's a noise coming from him and he's sure that he's hurt you. he tries to muster an apology, but his words come out in shuddered breaths and an uneven tone.

he only realizes by looking at your face that you're laughing.

"wha–" the word of surprise doesn't even fully come out and he's struggling to find the source of why you're laughing. he looks at the splattered array of cakes on the floor. "why are you laughing?"

"because it's funny, little lordling," you respond, pushing yourself off the floor and on to your knees. with a few more final laughs of realization, you move to pickup the pies off the floor. "does your mother know you have two left feet?"

little lordling. two left feet. see, if it was jace calling him these names, he and his brother would've been on the floor wrestling. no doubt jace would've been victorious as he was older and stronger. but, to his dismay, you were a girl. he couldn't do much but respond back with equally teasing remarks. of course, he didn't know how to do that.

despite your quips, luke tries to help you rid the crumbled pies off the floor, "i'm not a lordling," he counters, disdain on the tip of his tongue. "and i'm not little."

you rise to your feet, as does the heir to driftmark. your eyes meet, leveled and unrelenting.

"we're the same height," you say in disbelief. you watch lucaerys furrow his brows as if he didn't understand. "i get called little." touché.

lucerys opens his mouth to protest, but he's interrupted by the sudden appearance of princess rhaenyra, his mother. she wears a shocked expression on her face, one that has the shadow of a smile.

"now, what happened here?" her words are like honey on the ears, compelling you to tell the truth.

you immediately move to give the princess a curtsy, "my apologies, my princess. it seems that your son and i both have two left feet. it will not happen again." a formal gesture, one that the princess dips her head in response.

the princess mother gives a small chortle of delight, observing the way that lucerys shoots you a glare. his resolve softens though and his face betrays him. the soft flush of pink crawls up his neck and it seems that without any further evidence, she knows.

"luke, my love, why don't you help (y/n) with gathering more cakes? we wouldn't want to disappoint joffrey." her jeweled hand moves to ruffle lucerys' hair and he too sends a glare towards his mother.

"mother," he tries to protest, but a raise of her brows quickly quiets his cries. he then mutters out a small, 'okay,' of defeat.

you pick up the tray and luke brushes away the remnants on his clothes, nose scrunching as he follows you blindly to what he assumes would be the kitchens. that's where you get cakes.. right?

once you're both out of earshot of his mom, "just so you know, i'm not a lord, i'm a prince." he says the title almost boastfully – though his soft resolve does little to back up the proud statement.

"whatever you say," you pause, walking through the corridor into the kitchens of dragonstone. each maid, cook, steward, and servant make sure to bow when lucerys passes by. you take a moment to share a look with him, the corner of your lips rising into a small, playful smirk. "little lordling."