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apothe-roses · 2 days ago

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Ābrazȳrys

Summary: Aemond goes to see if the king is truly dead and finds his wife instead. Paring: dark!Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader Word Count: 1900+ Warnings: MDNI, dark[ish]!Aemond, Reader AFAB, noncon elements, ghostly voyeurism? rough sex, p in v unprotected, creampie, breeding kink when you squint. Author’s Note: So, this is not for the poll I just had, but something that came from rambling with my muses [thank you lovelies]. This is dedicated to @namelesslosers whose recent piece already had my mind thrumming with dark!Aemond ever since I read your story. Thank you, Mari, this is mostly your fault. 😆 Not beta read, my mistakes are my own and I am woefully sorry for them all. Also, Sȳz ābrazȳrys is Valyrian for good wife.

An accord was struck between the Warden of the North and King Viserys; you were then packed to be sent away to the capital, to wed his second son, Prince Aemond. Your purpose, you learned, was to placate the growing rift within the house of the dragon, but you soon realized it was not something that could be easily mended.

Aemond was complexity carved from marble, both beautiful and statuesque as the blood of Old Valyria was rumored to be. You saw his ire was not unfounded when the crowned princess had returned to flaunt her sins at her side, their tousled dark hair as bold as the crimson curve that cut through the left side of your husband’s face.

You felt the shift, saw the hatred now etched onto his sharp features at the sight of them. “Bastards,” he had murmured loud enough for you to hear. His tone was dark, his hold on your hand stopping the blood from reaching your fingertips.

The tension brought with their arrival was palpable, weaving through the Red Keep and pouring into the Small Hall where dinner was held, as per the king’s request. The pleasantries seemed forced and it ended with a scathing toast, an outburst, and when you tried to follow after Aemond, he had been quick to dismiss you.

You often struggled to find your place in King’s Landing. Aemond was courteous, but cold; both diligent and disinterested in the same breath. He treated you as his duty and it left your heart aching for more. It could not be sated with his family: Aegon was too lost in his cups, as was Helaena but with her dreams, and you had never met the youngest prince, as he was tucked away at Oldtown.

This left you to shadow the queen, which was how you now found yourself quietly at her side, your gaze accompanying her own–her brown eyes were wide and wet and fearful all at the same time. Her handmaiden had brought you to her quarters to hear it firsthand: the king was dead. Now you watched as the Silent Sister finished the wrappings on the body.

There was an attempt to mask the smell of death with the tapers lit, with the cloves and fresh herbs crushed for a smoldering incense that curled upwards into the air, but the lifelessness remained, prominent still. You could only assume it was something so intricately knitted with the late king, a man who had lingered so long on the precipice that life had long rotted away before he had taken his final breath.

Alicent waited until they left before she took the crown and placed it on top of the body. You watched her shudder with a choked grief, her hands pressing onto the altar to hold herself upright until she could regain her queenly composure. She then excused herself without a word, leaving you alone with the dead.

The body in front of you was not your family, but only your king. Your own unshed tears were from the fear you felt, from the loss that would come with the inevitable civil war; you saw flashes of red from the blood to be spilled, black from the ash that would rain over the kingdoms.

“He is even smaller in death.”

You knew the voice, so low but it still wrenched the air from your lungs. You looked up to see your husband poised in the doorway. “It is something that comes for us all, it is inescapable,” Aemond finished, his eye now trained to you.

It seemed a murmured thought and you were uncertain if he would continue it, uncertain if the words spoken were even meant for your ears to begin with. You swallowed thickly, your throat dry from the smoke. “My husband,” your voice cracked with compassion, “I am so sorry–”

“I am not.”

It cuts through you, halting your tongue. You watched him carefully, warily, as his lips curled upwards. “For too long I have watched him slowly wither beneath the crown handed to him by a council,” and he looked back to the altar, a bitterness brewing. “He hid behind some want for a faux peace, but only because he lacked the conviction and the spine to speak the truth.”

His tone clipped, his smile now cruel and cutting into his cheeks as he stepped towards you with his slow, distinct gate. You remained rooted, unwilling to wilt under the weight of the harsh truth that could now be spoken out loud and without repercussions.

You tried again: “Are you certain of this? Of her misdeeds–?”

This time your voice caught once he was close enough for his fingers to trail along the side of your face, coming to cup your cheek and hold your gaze. His palm was callused from his sword, but gentle to touch, igniting a warmth that pooled towards your core. Your eyes flickered over his smile that remained, your breath knotting in your throat as you realized how tall he now stood, as if a weight had been removed from him.

“Ābrazȳrys,” he murmured, his hold now moving to curl behind at the base of your neck and pull you closer to him. Your hands touched his chest, falling into him and his heat, his sandalwood and smoke, the amber scent that belonged so intimately to Aemond.

You burned from his direct attention, something you had pitifully sought after since you arrived, and it was now being handed alongside the corpse of the king.

And it felt so wrong.

His finger curled under your chin, tilting your head back to look at him. “Perhaps if I put a babe in your belly, you can see how strong the blood of dragon truly is.”

And yet–

“Aemond,” you gasped as his other hand moved to clasp around your elbow, pulling you closer until his mouth captured your own.

The room swam in smoke; you felt drunk from the warmth of his lips and with the way his hands roamed your backside, pulling you flushed against his chest. You could feel the swell of his cock pressing against the seams, a heat that permeated through and spread to ignite your nerve endings.

You sighed sweetly with how you fit against his chest and Aemond deepened the kiss with a desperation that you matched against your own volition. Your arms lifted to wrap around his neck, pulling yourself closer still, and Aemond let out a low groan, a vibration that trilled and tightened in your core.

“Aemond, we should leave…”

His passion would not be abated and instead his mouth claimed yours again. Aemond wrapped his arms around your waist to lift you and pull you away from the dead with staggering steps back towards the enclave of bay windows the sun streaked through. His large hands tore through your layers to touch the soft divot between your thighs, until the pads of his fingers pressed to the wet patch that was growing; he hummed.

You broke away and his mouth then latched to the curve of your neck, biting you, marking you, his passion reborn from the tips of his teeth. You cried out from the mixture of pleasure and pain, your body betraying you with how it responded, with how it craved for more.

You tried again: “Aemond, we mustn’t–”

His hand caught your jaw with a hold that dimpled into your cheeks. “You must know by now that the walls are thick, as my ancestors designed them to be,” his eye looked over your kiss-swollen lips and the blood that was staining your features. “Also, the dead also cannot hear us.”

Aemond then surged against you; you could not fight back, you would not fight back. Instead, your hands balled into his tunic to balance yourself, to return the kiss until all the air left your lungs. You felt his smile against your mouth, his arms returning to snake around your waist and guide until you fell down to the rug that covered the floor; a delicious contrast of the warmth he emitted to the cold of the cobblestone beneath you.

He rucked your skirts up around your waist, his hand moving to pull away the small clothes intimately wrapped around before he slotted himself between your thighs. You felt his length grind against your bare cunt and you gasped, only for the sound to be swallowed with another heated kiss that seared the blood now coursing through your veins.

Aemond paused to look down at you. His hair spilled silver in the sunlight and he watched your corset push against your cleavage, the desperate rise and fall to catch your breath. His one arm propped himself up while the other tugged away at the strings laced at his crotch; your fingers slipped into his loosened waistband, pulling it down until his cock was freed. His fingers then wrapped around his base, flushed crimson with his passion, and you nearly cried as he rubbed his swollen head along your folds, silken with your arousal.

His arms caged you and he pushed into you, filling you with his slow thrusts to fit, until he was fully sheathed within your cunt. Your lips parted wordlessly as your pleasure began to kindle with the slow roll of his hips, something that spread towards the ends and returned to build within your core.

You mewled as his paced quickened, the wet sounds of bare skin suctioning as he fucked you into the rug, bruising your backside against the stone with each snap of his hips; you lifted to cant your own, welcoming the bruising pace. You were breathless, your walls fluttering with the first waves of pleasure coiling tightly at the base of your spine.

“Touch yourself,” he rasped, his breath hot against the curve of your neck.

You hand moved between with a fumbling touch to your pearl, swollen and wet and wanting. The pressure was enough to elicit another cry from you, the tears pearling earlier now spilling. Aemond saw this with the black that possessed his eye and his head dipped to lick your tears; his murmured, “Sȳz ābrazȳrys,” scorching against your skin.

It burst forth with flashes of white, a euphoria brimming on too much as his pace continued, until he was spilling and pulsing within your velvet walls. His weight then rested against you, his head turning to place a sweet kiss to your neck before he pulled away to stand, reaching to bring you back onto unsteady feet.

You swayed a moment and he grabbed you, waiting until you met with his stare. Your eyes were wet as they rolled from him and took in your surroundings; you let out a shaky exhale when you saw the body that had been prepared.

Aemond let go to tuck himself away and then stepped to block your view. He leaned forward to press a kiss to your hairline; your lashes were clumped together from your tears shed, wet against your cheeks when you closed your eyes, savoring the softness of his lips.

“We will win,” his confidence now laced his low tone. He repeated: “Do not worry, we will win.”

And then he left you alone with the dead, with nothing but the remnant pulsing sensation of the pleasure he took, his pearly spend now spilling down between the insides of your legs.

Tags (Tumblr kindred spirits): @aaaaaamond @annikin-im-panicin @watercolorskyy @sylasthegrim @fan-goddess @httpsdoll @theromanticegoist @assortedseaglass @theoneeyedprince @babyblue711 @girlwith-thepearlearring @theobjectofyourire @troublesomesnitch @multyfangirl @darylandbethfanforever9 @snowprincesa1 @officerbrowneyes

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apothe-roses · 11 days ago

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Oh boy, where do I start?

As soon as you mentioned the one thoughtful gift a year, I immediately clocked it as Aemond. Does that mean Alicent is in on it and covering for him? Or does she just not pay attention to gf enough to notice?

The saddest thing for me is that the chance for a happy ending is slim to none.

The only time Aemond can see her is when Aegon brings her for the holidays. It seems that Aemond doesn’t live near Aegon or his gf, and they have no other means of contact outside of these holidays. If they break up, Aemond would probably lose her forever.

If he tried to get with her himself, it’d totally break the fragile peace his family has maintained. Unlike, say Down in Flames, this Aegon isn’t a toxic mess who needs the breakup in order to move forward. I just know if he found out, he would never show up to family functions again. At least, not with his gf.

And if they did break up, and Aemond tried to shoot his shot, Aegon’s inevitable heartbreak and feelings of betrayal would leave a stain on the relationship. Hell, Aemond’s unrequited love is already staining her relationship with Aegon.

There’s no win/win here. But this cycle they’ve found themselves in is too precarious to last.

Heart Without a Home

Pairing: Modern!Aegon II Targaryen x f!reader, Modern!Aemond Targaryen x reader Warnings: Angst, emotional infidelity. Word count: ~9k

Summary: Her and Aegon have been an item for three years, and she couldn't be happier, though she has grown to dread special occasions spent with his overbearing family, particularly his moody younger brother. A Christmas week with the Targtowers gets to the root of all of the ill feeling.

Author's note: Day twelve of Smuffmas - home videos and voyeurism. No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.

The dull morning light of late December winter filtered through the curtains that they never remembered to close, the room silent save for the sounds of their quiet breathing. Aegon laid naked in her bed, sprawled on his front across her body, his head rested upon her bare chest with his eyes closed as she cradled him. Her fingertips gently massaged his scalp in soothing circles. She could feel from the oil within the roots that he was a few days past the need for his hair to be washed. Ordinarily she wouldn’t care; she loved it when Aegon’s fluffy platinum hair was a little on the dirtier side, it sat flatter to his head and looked less unruly, retaining the scent of peppercorn and bergamot that seemed to cling to him, that she had grown to love.

Yet she knew she would have to tell him to wash it, if only to save him from the disapproving comments from the woman from whom he had inherited his wild mop of curls, though hers were a vibrant auburn. It was Christmas Eve, and they were due to travel back to Aegon’s family home for three days; the shortest possible amount of time that his mother, Alicent, would allow and the longest that he would agree to. His younger siblings, Aemond and Helaena, usually always arrived the day before and stayed right through until New Year’s Day. That would have felt like a prison sentence to Aegon, so a compromise had been settled upon, and she intended to ensure it was as painless for him as it possibly could be. That included pre-empting his mother’s criticism of his hygiene and encouraging him to wash his hair.

“Come on, sleeping beauty,” she urged softly, shifting slightly beneath him as she stroked her hands down his back, “you need to jump in the shower.”

“Mmmm…don’t want to,” he groused sleepily, clinging tighter to her, nuzzling further into her body.

She chuckled, attempting to push the dead weight of him from her but failed miserably. “We have to leave soon. If we aren’t there by lunchtime then we’ll never hear the end of it from your mum.”

“Oh, god forbid we aren’t there for her horrible smoked salmon and cream cheese bagels,” he bemoaned, rising slowly up on his elbows to look at her, his brow furrowed in an expression that she was sure was intended to convey his annoyance, but just appeared adorably tired and grumpy to her. God, how she loved that face.

“But,” she countered, tapping his nose lightly with her index finger, “you get to be warm under all that nice, hot water while muggins here has to coax your dopey mutt outside in the freezing cold and try to convince him to go for a piss. I’d say you’ve got the better end of the deal.”

Aegon smirked, rolling off of her and onto his own side of the bed, nearest the wall, where Sunfyre’s bed was. He peered over the edge, watching as the large golden retriever laid on his back, all four paws in the air, snoring quietly. “You know, if you and the hound wanted to head back for a few days, I’d be happy to stay here,” Aegon muttered quietly, giving Sunfyre’s paw a playful shake, which caused the dog’s eyes to open, his tail wagging enthusiastically as he saw who loomed above him.

She rolled her eyes, disentangling herself from the sheets and rising from the bed, beginning to rummage through her chest of drawers for something suitable to wear to take the dog outside in. “Very funny. Shower. Now.”

“Ugh, fine,” Aegon huffed, pulling himself from the mattress. He paused, still utterly naked as he stood in the doorway. “Will you at least have a bacon sandwich ready for me when I’m finished?”

She turned to him, a black hoodie clutched in her hands, and tilted her head, her tone one of mock confusion. “And spoil your appetite for your mum’s lovely smoked salmon?”

“Oh, fuck off,” he grinned before heading across the hallway and into the bathroom.

She laughed, turning her attention back to getting dressed.

Aegon’s playfulness had been what had first drawn her to him when they had met three years prior. There was a shitty, little live music venue that she frequented most weekends – The Blue Pearl – the sort of place that’s dingy, smelly, with damp in the walls, and toilets that are always blocked, yet somehow the bar still feels justified in charging the better part of six pounds for a pint that’s more line cleaner than it is beer. The night they had met there had been a local indie band playing there, which had drawn a crowd of less than twenty people. Aegon had burst through the doors, already half drunk, with three friends in tow and offered to buy drinks for every person in the place. That was how she knew he was different – nobody could afford to do that – this was the sort of place where if you were going to buy a drink from the bar, it would likely be a coke that you’d then add the vodka to that you’d snuck in inside a hip flask. His thousand watt smile had charmed her and, at the end of the night, when he’d insisted that he couldn’t possibly leave without a kiss and her phone number, she had known she was in trouble.

In the beginning, things hadn’t been that serious. Aegon was a party boy, and she knew she wasn’t the only girl he was seeing. She didn’t mind, and was happy to keep things casual, because he was fun to spend time with. But as time had passed, and feelings developed, she found herself the sole recipient of his affection and, therefore, was pulled deeper into his world, able to understand the full extent of the wealth he was born into and the trauma that that brought with it. Aegon rebelled against the status of his family, choosing to live in a rented house share with his friends, Martyn, Leon and Ed. The few times she had visited she had been disgusted by the squalor the four men had allowed the house to fall into. Once, Leon had bought everyone in the house a Cadbury’s Creme Egg as an Easter gift and Martyn had accidentally sat on his and squashed it into the sofa cushions. She had been horrified to find it still there when she’d visited again a few weeks later. There was also the crusty, old assortment of boxers and socks that covered the surface of the white, plastic picnic table that stood in the back garden; Ed had laid them out there to dry one sunny summer’s day, having done a rare load of laundry, and then just never bothered to bring them back inside. They were still there by Halloween.

She had been pleased when Aegon and Sunfyre had begun spending more and more time at her place, not just because it meant she didn’t have to endure the hovel that they lived in, but because the two of them made her cosy, little flat feel like a home. Now, she and Aegon basically lived together in all but name. He only ever returned to his place when he needed clean clothes or to cool off if they had argued.

Aside from coming from old money and, therefore, leading a lifestyle that was so extravagant it made her uneasy, Aegon’s family maintained a dynamic that was strained at best and volatile at worst. Thankfully, Aegon kept his visits limited to special occasions only, meaning they only spent time with the family for birthdays and Christmases. His mother was an anxious woman and, though it was clear she loved her children dearly, she was often overbearing, not knowing how to properly express her care for them all, so it often came across as needless fussing and nagging. Their father had passed away, and Alicent had remarried to a man named Criston. He was harmless enough, though so broodingly quiet that she went out of her way to avoid being left alone with him. Otto, their grandfather and Alicent’s father, was a stern man who reserved the harshest of his criticisms for Aegon. He disapproved of his decision not to join the family’s investment banking firm, regularly reminding his grandson that there was no stability in the events marketing startup that he had founded with his father’s inheritance money. Aegon’s brother, Aemond, was indifferent to the point of being cold, he offered little in the way of conversation, only speaking when spoken to, and seemed content enough to keep to himself. Besides Aegon, Helaena was her favourite of all the family. She wasn’t particularly warm, but her nature was gentle and if you engaged with her regarding a topic she found interesting, she would animate in a way that made her features light up as she talked excitedly.

Their father had a daughter, Rhaenyra, from a previous marriage. Though she had never met her, and she was never present at any of the gatherings she attended, her influence hung over them all like a shadow, creating contention and bitter resentment. Aegon liked a drink, but she hated how paralytic he allowed himself to become when visiting his family. A means to cope with the ill feeling, a way to make the time pass quicker, perhaps both, she couldn’t tell, but seeing him in that state broke her heart. He was damaging himself, but also reaffirming his family’s opinion that he was a waste of space. She knew he was anything but.

They just had to get through tonight and then Christmas Day, and then they’d be driving back home again by Boxing Day lunchtime. And if there was nothing else to look forward to, at least she could console herself with the abundance of gifts. Alicent always ensured that each of them had a huge pile to open. Hers were always fairly generic; high end skincare, an expensive bottle of bubbly, artisanal chocolates and designer label accessories, but each year there was also one that was so personal, so thoughtful, that it made her feel guilty for ever hesitating to come in the first place. The first year she had spent Christmas with them all, she had received a platinum bracelet inlaid with glittering sapphires, and last year she had been given a first edition of her favourite book, signed by the author. As dysfunctional as the Targaryens were, they were insanely generous to those closest to them.

***

The tyres of her little Fiat 500 crunched over the gravel of the driveway leading up to the property, the lengthy track was flanked by rows of perfectly sculpted hedges, beyond which sat acres of immaculately manicured lawn on either side. The drive from the gates at the roadside all the way to the house felt almost as long as the journey from her flat.

“Got enough petrol to make it up the drive?” Aegon asked, casting her a smirk from where he sat in the passenger seat, fingers drumming restlessly upon his knees.

“You make that joke every time we visit,” she sighed, turning the steering wheel to maneuver the vehicle as the gravel track curved around the large, circular fountain that stood at the front of the massive house.

“And I’ll keep making it until it gets a laugh out of you,” he quipped, turning to unclip his seatbelt.

Ordinarily, his earnest intent to make her smile would have made her heart melt, however, this time the sentiment fell upon deaf ears. She stiffened as the familiar feeling of inadequacy settled upon her like a stone as the faded red brick building, encased in trailing ivy leaves, came into view. As she had predicted, everyone was there already; outside was Alicent’s sleek, forest green Mercedes AMG GT, with Otto’s Rolls Royce Phantom and Criston’s Porsche Cayenne parallel parked at either end. She drove around to where Helaena’s sky blue VW Beetle was situated, with Aemond’s Triumph chopper propped precariously behind it, and pulled to a stop in front. It was the least intimidating of all the vehicles present, so she felt more comfortable leaving her beaten up little car there.

She turned the engine off and, as though sensing her discomfort, Aegon’s hand grabbed hers, intercepting her as she reached to unfasten her seatbelt.

“It’s just three days and two nights,” he reassured her, giving her hand a gentle squeeze, “we’ve got this.”

No sooner were they out of the car and unloading Sunfyre and the bags from their respective places on the back seat and the boot, than Alicent was hurrying from the house, her long auburn curls flowing behind her.

“We were starting to think you weren’t coming,” she said, kissing them both on their cheeks in greeting. She paused, looking intently at Aegon as her hands smoothed his hair, before calling over her shoulder to her husband, who was already making his way towards them. “Criston, fetch the bags!”

“Hello, you two,” he greeted softly, divesting them of their luggage, “safe journey?”

Sunfyre’s excited bark came in place of an answer. The large, golden dog bounded across the drive and into the house, wagging his tail.

“Oh god,” Alicent said, frowning in concern, “I don’t think Aemond has locked Vhagar away.”

“Right then, shall we?” Criston asked with a raise of his eyebrows, as Alicent chased after the golden retriever.

Once inside, she caught a quick glimpse of a fluffy, black cat racing up the grand, wooden staircase in the foyer, with Sunfyre in hot pursuit.

“I’ll take these to your room,” Criston gestured with their bags, following the same way the animals had gone.

“Shouldn’t we go and get the dog back?” she asked, turning to Aegon.

He shrugged. “He’ll come back when he’s ready. If Aemond didn’t want Vhagar used as a chew toy, then he’d have kept her shut away.”

Placing a hand at the small of her back, he moved her further into the house. No matter how many times she visited she would never stop being awed by the sheer opulence of it. The floors were polished hardwood, a dark mahogany hue that matched the panelling of the walls, which stopped three quarters of the way up to make way for dark bottle green paint and brass sconces. Alicent had decorated for Christmas, in an understated and tasteful manner as always. A garland wrapped around the bannister of the stairs, complete with crimson bows, and sprigs of holly had been hung from each fixture on the wall.

“I couldn’t find the cat, but I’m sure Aemond will sort her out,” Alicent announced, appearing from the kitchen with an open bottle of champagne in her hand, “we’re just through here.”

She ushered them through to the dining room. A large, oval table sat in the centre of the room, draped in a green and gold table cloth, with candles in the middle and places set for seven people. A spread of bagels, cream cheese and smoked salmon was plated and ready for serving. The head of the table nearest the fireplace set into the far wall had been left empty as always, a mark of respect for Viserys, the deceased patriarch of the family.

Otto was seated beside the empty space, with Helaena opposite him. Her large African grey parrot, Dreamfyre, perched upon her shoulder. Helaena was busy tearing pieces off of a bagel and offering them to the bird, watching intently as her large black beak pecked indelicately at them.

“I wish you wouldn’t do that at the table,” Alicent complained, placing the champagne into an ice bucket as Otto rose from his seat to greet his grandson with a clapped hand on the shoulder, and his girlfriend with a chaste kiss on the cheek, before taking his seat again, and gesturing for them to do the same. She sat next to Otto, with Aegon on her other side.

“I’m not keeping her in a cage,” Helaena protested, looking up at her mother with a slight frown as she continued to feed Dreamfyre from her upturned palm. “Vhagar and Sunfyre get to roam freely.”

Alicent rolled her eyes, taking her own chair at the opposite head of the table, next to Aegon. Her fingers automatically moved to straighten her cutlery. “Well, this is the last time any of you bring your wretched beasts with you.”

“You say that every time,” Aemond said quietly, slipping into the room with Criston trailing behind.

“Well, this time I mean it,” she said frustratedly, rubbing her temples.

Aemond sat between Helaena and Criston, which meant he was directly opposite her. It was as though the cloudiness of his left eye somehow intensified the stare of his right, and she squirmed beneath the intensity of his piercing blue gaze, suddenly grateful when Criston reached across to offer her a flute of champagne, giving her an excuse to look away.

“It wouldn’t be a problem if Aegon would keep that fucking mutt of his under control,” Aemond snapped, shooting an accusatory glance towards his brother.

“Enough,” Alicent commanded, forking a slice of salmon onto Criston’s empty plate, “have you and Helaena even bothered to greet either of them yet?”

“Hello,” Helaena offered with a soft smile, “when did you get here?”

“Literally just arrived,” she replied, giving a quiet thanks to Aegon as he passed the salmon plate to her.

“That’s nice,” Helaena nodded.

“Not the word I’d use,” Aegon muttered under his breath, earning himself a stern look from Alicent.

She served herself, before passing the plate to Otto. He paused as Helaena held her hand out, refusing his attempt to dish out food for her.

“I’m vegetarian, Grandad, remember?”

Otto bristled, eyes moving from the salmon and then back to his granddaughter. “Oh…right. Well, I’m sure your mother can find you some ham in the kitchen.”

“Can’t eat that either,” she said apologetically as he sighed in exasperation. She finally relieved him of the serving platter and passed it to Aemond, who promptly set it back in the centre of the table.

“Are you not eating?” Alicent asked, leaning forward to look at him with large, imploring eyes.

“Had a protein shake after my run,” he explained curtly, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Right,” Alicent responded, her tone clipped with annoyance. She raised her glass in mock toast, “merry Christmas, everyone,” then took a swig before setting it heavily back upon the tabletop and beginning to spread cream cheese across a bagel in hurried, angry movements.

“Maybe you could set some salmon aside for Vhagar?” she suggested to Aemond with a slight smile, attempting to ease the tension.

“It’s smoked, it’s bad for her,” Aemond replied irritably, causing her to shrink once again under the weight of his scrutinising stare.

Looking to her side, dread formed like a stone in her stomach as she watched Aegon drain his flute of champagne – doubtless, the first of many. The rest of the meal passed in tense silence, until they were finally all excused.

The rest of the evening was awkward and uncomfortable, as Criston and Alicent busied themselves in the kitchen with meal preparation for Christmas dinner the next day, Aemond disappeared upstairs to his room, and Otto engaged Helaena in a game of Jenga that she seemed to be more interested in encouraging Dreamfyre to perch upon than actually play. That just left her with Aegon, and ordinarily she would love that, except for the fact that he had polished off most of bottle of champagne to himself at lunch, and had since demolished a bottle of red wine, so was now barely lucid as he sat next to her on the plush sofa, leaving her to watch Home Alone on the plasma screen TV by herself.

As the evening wore on, and everyone in the house slowly started making their way to bed, she decided it would probably be a good idea to attempt to relocate Aegon to his own room, instead of leaving him on the sofa where he was currently sprawled with his mouth open.

She leaned over him, gently shaking him. “Come on, Aeg, let’s go upstairs.”

He groaned softly in his sleep but didn’t move or wake up. She sighed in frustration, tucking her arm around him and attempting to lift him. His dead weight was too much for her and he flopped heavily back against the cushions after she’d only managed to raise his torso by a few inches.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” she hissed in annoyance, raking a hand through her hair.

“Problem?” Aemond’s voice asked softly from behind her.

She turned, seeing Aemond holding an unlit cigarette in one hand and a lighter in the other, clearly on his way through the living room to the French doors that opened out onto the patio of the back garden.

“He’s passed out and I can’t lift him,” she responded, her voice tired and resigned.

“Of course he is,” Aemond muttered with a roll of his eye. He pocketed his lighter and slipped his cigarette behind his ear, before moving towards the sofa. “Here, let me.”

She watched as Aemond crouched, tugged Aegon by his armpits into a seated position, and then hoisted him over his shoulder – his older brother's torso hung ragdoll down his back, while his legs draped across his front.

“Where do you want him?” he asked, his usually measured voice slightly strained under the weight of Aegon.

“Just in his room, need to put him to bed.”

She followed behind Aemond as he walked slowly through the living room, down the hallway and then up the stairs. It felt awkward to walk behind him in silence, but she supposed if there were ever a time for the pair of them to have their first proper conversation then it wouldn’t be when he was carrying her blind drunk boyfriend to bed.

Walking down the landing, he stopped at the third door on the left, gently pushed the door open with his foot before flicking the light on, then unceremoniously dumped Aegon onto the bed. His body bounced slightly as the mattress dipped and then righted with the force, but he remained fast asleep.

She looked around the room, seeing how neatly their bags had been left at the end of the bed. It was a shrine to Aegon’s adolescence; Blink 182 and glamour model posters were plastered across the walls, while lads’ mags and old beer mats were strewn across every surface. There was a framed photo that sat upon the bedside table, of a teenage Aegon grinning from ear to ear as he held Sunfyre as a puppy. Her gaze fell upon the dog bed in the corner, where he was sleeping.

“Shit, I forgot to take him outside for a piss before bed…”

“I’ll do it,” Aemond offered, leaning against the doorframe, “I was going out for a smoke anyway.”

“Thank you,” she smiled softly, turning back to face him as he whistled to get Sunfyre’s attention.

The dog stretched slowly out of his bed, his tail wagging lazily as he padded towards Aemond. “You know, you could use this as your get out of jail free card,” Aemond told her, his hand absentmindedly ruffling the dog’s ears.

“What do you mean?”

“Leave. While he’s still passed out. No one would blame you.”

She huffed in amusement, shaking her head. “I’m not ditching Aegon just because he’s had a bit too much to drink.”

Aemond eyed her appraisingly for a moment, the ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips. “Hm. Lucky Aegon.” He turned away, patting his thigh as he walked, calling out to Sunfyre, “come, hound!”

She laid there feeling restless and irritated for ten minutes; Aegon’s snores made it impossible to even entertain the idea of falling asleep. She climbed out of bed, pulling the curtain back a fraction as she watched Sunfyre amble around the lawn of the back garden, illuminated by the security floodlight, cocking his leg against Alicent’s rose bushes.

As her gaze fell upon the patio she made eye contact with Aemond, his face turned up towards the window as smoke rose in a delicate spiral from the lit end of the cigarette he held between two fingers. She hadn’t expected him to be watching her and the sight made her heart skip a beat, a shocked gasp escaping her as she let go of the curtain, allowing it to fall closed again.

“Fucking hell,” she whispered to herself as she climbed back into bed, waiting for her pulse to stop racing in panic, “I hate it here.”

***

“Are there any coconut ones?” Helaena asked, kneeling on the carpet in front of where Aegon sat on the sofa, pawing through a tin of Quality Street.

“Disgusting choice, and all yours,” he responded, plucking out a few of the blue foil wrapped chocolates and dropping them into her upturned palms.

Helaena smiled happily, turning away and crossing her legs as she began to unwrap one of them.

It was Christmas morning, and Aegon had woken up surprisingly early and blissfully hangover free. She attributed it to how early in the evening he had passed out, though she didn’t feel so fresh herself, having been kept awake half the night by his snoring and her own anxiety over her encounter with Aemond.

He had said nothing to her that morning, simply sat at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, sipping coffee and reading the news on his iPad. Aegon was not so serene, he had dragged Helaena out of bed and insisted she show him where their mother had hidden the Christmas chocolates.

“Oh, horrible children!” Alicent scolded, knotting her dressing gown at the waist as she entered the lounge and caught sight of the half empty tin of sweets. “What about breakfast?”

“It’s alright, Mum, I’ve got that covered. Here,” he plucked a Green Triangle from the container and carelessly sent it sailing towards her.

Criston stepped from behind her, reaching up and plucking it from the air before it could make contact with her temple.

“Unbelievable,” Alicent said in annoyance, throwing up her hands in resignation, “I don’t know why I bother.”

She looked guiltily at the pile of empty wrappers in her lap, then at Aegon, as Alicent stomped away with Criston in tow. “Maybe we should put them away.”

“Why would she buy them if she didn’t want us to eat them?” he argued, unwrapping a caramel swirl. “They aren’t just there for us to admire.”

“You aren’t supposed to sit and eat them all to yourself either, you greedy little shit,” Otto glowered, stepping into the doorway.

“Not to worry, grandad,” Aegon grinned, “I’ve got a toffee penny here with your name on it.”

“If you even think about throwing a chocolate at me, my boy, I will make sure you live to regret it.”

Helaena whipped around, wide eyed, and snatched the tin from Aegon, placing it on the carpet before slamming the lid back on. “We shouldn’t have these out if they’re going to upset people.”

“Good,” Otto conceded with a nod, “I trust the three of you plan on changing out of your pyjamas at some point today?”

“Would it be okay if I jumped in the shower?” she asked sheepishly, embarrassed to ask as she tried to ball up the sweet wrappers in her lap as discreetly as possible.

“There are four bathrooms in the house, dear, you don’t need to ask,” Otto responded with a curt nod, before ducking back out of the room.

She raked her hands through her hair, her mind feeling foggy with fatigue and her insides churning with a combination of too much early morning chocolate and dense unease. Aegon gripped her arm gently as she rose from the sofa, and she paused, turning to look at him.

“You’re in a mood.”

It was a statement, not a question. Aegon knew her too well, of course she was, but what was she supposed to say?

You got so fucking drunk last night that you passed out and basically left me alone on Christmas Eve, then kept me awake all night with your snoring.

Despite knowing what a tense situation this is, you’re not making it any better for yourself or anyone else by deliberately going out of your way to be antagonistic.

She said neither of those things. Now wasn’t the time to reprimand him or start an unnecessary argument; there’d be enough of those today.

“Just tired, missing our bed,” she replied quietly, offering him a small smile of reassurance.

“Course you are,” he grinned, releasing her arm with a wink, “I’ll make sure to tire you out properly tonight.”

Helaena made a noise of disgust, clapping her hands over her ears, and she used that as her excuse to leave the living room, and head upstairs to one of the bathrooms.

Just today to get through, then we can go home tomorrow, she thought as she sat on the edge of Aegon’s bed, wrapped in a towel, skin still damp from the shower.

She had left the door ajar, and as it creaked open she expected to see Aegon walk through. She jumped slightly as Aemond appeared in the doorway instead.

His seeing eye widened momentarily, before he cast his gaze towards his feet. “Fuck, sorry, door wasn’t closed, so I thought–”

“Aegon’s downstairs, if you’re looking for him,” she interrupted, not wanting to suffer through any further awkward apologies.

“I was looking for you, actually,” he replied, his eye darting quickly away again as it landed upon her once more. “Mum wants to do presents, and I was coming upstairs to grab this anyway—” he lifted his silver camcorder in explanation, “so she asked me to get you.”

She was grateful that they had both seemingly reached a silent agreement not to address the accidental eye contact through the window from the night before – the more she thought about it, the more she realised there wasn’t really anything to talk about anyway.

“Be there in a minute,” she said.

He nodded, stepping out of the room and closing the door fully behind him.

Every time she visited, Aemond had his video camera out at some point. Alicent had gushed to her once about all of the videos he had captured over the years of special occasions, how talented he was at framing shots perfectly and then editing the footage into something that captured the mood of those precious memories. In the three years she had been a part of their lives, she had seen him filming plenty of times but never actually gotten to see the finished product.

Once dressed and back downstairs, everyone was already gathered in the living room, It’s a Wonderful Life playing quietly on the TV. Otto sat in the armchair, while Helaena sat crossed legged at his feet, with Dreamfyre perched upon her shoulder. On the sofa on one side of the coffee table, Criston and Aemond sat at opposite ends, Criston slowly sipping a coffee while Aemond fiddled with his camcorder. Aegon reclined with his feet up, stretched out across the sofa on the other side, a hand lolling down onto the floor, absentmindedly stroking Sunfyre. Alicent knelt beside the huge Norwegian fir tree in the far corner of the room, its red and gold ornaments twinkling as she sorted gifts into piles.

She patted Aegon’s legs gently, and he lifted them enough for her to sit before resting them across her lap.

“Aegon…” she began, quietly enough for only him to hear.

��Mmm?” he jutted his chin upwards slightly, regarding her with a gentle raise of his eyebrows.

“You know Aemond’s video camera?” she ventured, plucking invisible fluff from the leg of his jogging bottoms.

“What about it?” he asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Why don’t we ever see the videos he makes?”

“We do.”

She shook her head, keeping her tone hushed. “I never have.”

Aegon shrugged dismissively. “I guess not, but why does it matter? We don’t need to watch them, we were there, we know what happened.”

It wasn’t enough to sate her curiosity, but before she had the opportunity to press the issue further, Alicent ushered them over to the tree to grab their respective gifts.

Her and Aegon had exchanged presents at her flat the day before Christmas Eve, a means to preserve a piece of the festive period that was just for them, but also to ensure that the significance of their gifts for each other weren’t lost in the overwhelming abundance that his mother delivered on Christmas morning.

It was strange to her that everyone tore into their pile at the same time, rather than taking turns so everyone could see what everyone else had gotten, but as she watched Alicent perching on the arm of the sofa next to Criston, looking on with a soft smile as her children unwrapped their presents, she could understand why it was this way. Amidst the buzz of the sounds of tearing paper and gushing thank yous, it was the closest she had ever seen the family come to genuine happiness.

Alicent had gone way overboard for her as usual. She unwrapped Chanel No.5 perfume, a cashmere jumper, an Elemis skincare gift set and a pair of white gold hoop earrings. It was a large, flat present that piqued her curiosity the most though; it was heavy and solid, and as she pulled the wrapping paper away it took a moment for her to understand properly what it was; a map of the exact layout of the constellations in the sky on the day of her birth. Her lips parted slightly as she stared at it in awe, trailing her fingertips down the coolness of its smooth surface. Upon closer inspection, she could see that it was made of marble; a thin indigo slab which represented the night sky, with gold inlay mapping out the constellations. Tiny diamonds sparkled at each appropriate juncture, serving as the stars. Her breath caught in her throat, tears welling in her eyes at the thoughtful gesture.

It felt almost too personal, too intimate to be a gift from her boyfriend’s mother, and she wondered if perhaps Aegon had snuck another gift here for her. She patted at his leg gently, discreetly trying to get his attention as he was busy tugging the cap off a bottle of aftershave and giving it a sniff.

She turned the plaque towards him, tilting her head in silent question, but he simply shrugged, his bottom lip protruding slightly as he slightly shook his head to feign ignorance before turning his attention back to his own gifts.

“Wow…thank you, Alicent.” she said, looking across the room to where Alicent was sitting, watching as Helaena encouraged Dreamfyre to tear open a present with her beak.

“Oh, you’re welcome, love,” she replied, glancing up quickly with a bright smile, “I’m glad you like them.” Her attention then immediately went back to Helaena.

At Alicent’s quick dismissal, she looked around the room, everyone was preoccupied with their gifts or someone else’s, except for Aemond, who was filming – she hadn’t even noticed him start.

As the morning bled into early afternoon, Otto dozed in the armchair, while Helaena helped Criston and Alicent to cook Christmas lunch. The majority of her gifts had been put away upstairs, except for the plaque. She sat admiring it, unable to believe how beautiful it was, while Aegon sprawled out on the sofa, drinking Buck’s Fizz, with Sunfyre snoozing on his legs.

“I’m bored,” Aegon complained, causing her to look up from where she was sitting cross legged on the floor.

“Put something on the TV then.”

He wrinkled his nose, clearly unhappy with the suggestion. “There’s not anything good on. I think Aemond brought his Switch, we could play Mario Kart?”

“Guess you’ll have to ask him.”

“He’s always ages when he’s having a fag, just go and grab it from his room, he won’t mind.”

“You go and get it,” she retorted defensively, horrified by the idea as her voice raised an octave, “I’m not letting myself into your brother’s room and taking his belongings.”

“But look how sleepy Sunfyre is,” Aegon said, pouting his lip, “would you really be so cruel and make him move?”

“You’re so fucking lazy!” she scoffed, rolling her eyes.

Aegon laughed, dragging a hand through his hair. “Seriously, Aemond won’t care. But if he comes back in before you’re back down here, I’ll tell him what you’re doing, so he knows it was my idea. Sound good?”

She sighed, knowing he wouldn’t drop it until he got his way. She didn’t have the patience to listen to him pester her until Aemond came back inside, so she rose to her feet, placing her plaque on the coffee table as she stood. “So fucking lazy,” she muttered with a shake of her head as she left the room.

Nerves fluttered in her stomach as she climbed the stairs. She’d never been in Aemond’s bedroom before – she supposed it wasn’t really his room anymore, just the place he slept when he visited, but it was still his space and the idea of intruding upon it made her incredibly uncomfortable.

She paused as she reached his door, her hand hovering over the door handle, before drawing in a steadying breath and pushing it open.

The space was more orderly than Aegon’s was. One wall was simply book shelves, filled with rows and rows of hardbacks, there was a Deftones and a Tool poster stuck neatly upon the other walls, and Aemond’s computer desk and chair were tucked away in the far corner. At the centre of the room was Aemond’s neatly made bed. Vhagar lay curled up in the middle of the duvet. The fluffy black cat’s amber eyes cracked open to look at her inquisitively as she stood looking around the room, trying to figure out where Aemond would have put his Switch.

Bloody Aegon, she thought, until her eyes fell back upon the computer desk. Aemond’s camcorder sat upon the desktop, plugged into his open laptop. The case for his Switch lay next to it.

She walked over to the desk, fully intending to simply grab the Switch and then go straight back downstairs, but as she moved closer, the sight of her own face on the laptop screen captured her attention. It was a thumbnail of the video that Aemond had taken that morning within an open folder of multiple video files. She knew she shouldn’t snoop, it wasn’t her business, but seeing such a close up shot of herself made the urge to click irresistible.

The video started with a slow pan around the room, Alicent watching on as everyone else opened gifts. It lingered on Aegon for a moment, zooming in as he unknowingly leaned his face back at an unflattering angle, creating a double chin – she laughed at seeing this – then the shot moved to her, zooming out to capture her unwrapping the plaque, then zooming back in on her face, capturing her eyes welling up and the touched smile that tugged at her lips. The shot remained on her until the video eventually cut to black.

Her brow furrowed, a mixture of confusion and bewilderment stirring within her. Why was nearly the entire video of her? If Aemond was intending to create videos of happy family memories, then why focus solely on his brother’s girlfriend and not the people he was actually related to?

Unable to stop herself, she closed out of the video and clicked onto the next. This was one from back in the late summer, when Alicent had hosted a barbecue for Criston’s birthday. The camera panned around the back garden, with a brief zoom in of the meat sizzling on the grill, before zooming out again. When the camera fell upon her, it lingered, a full body shot at first, before gradually moving in upon her face, catching each sip of her drink, every time she touched her hair, or laughed.

“You looked beautiful that day.”

“FUCK!” she yelped, jumping as she turned wide eyed with fright to see Aemond standing behind her.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said calmly, “but you are in my room after all.”

She watched in disbelief at how unbothered he was as he moved to sit on the bed, ruffling a hand through Vhagar’s fur. The cat chirruped happily, the noise an obscenely cute contrast to the clawing dread in the pit of her stomach and the wild pounding of her heart against her ribcage. An acrid taste filled her mouth, sour and unpleasant, as she struggled to get the words out, wanting to understand why he’d been filming her.

“What the fuck?!” was all she was able to choke out.

“It’s not anything perverted, don’t worry,” he reassured her.

That was what worried her. She knew Aemond wasn’t being a creep, the videos hadn’t lingered on her breasts or anywhere that wasn’t her face. It would be easy to deal with, easier to shrug off if she could just explain it away as Aegon’s younger brother being a pervert, but this seemed like something deeper than that, and that scared her.

“Are…are they all like that?” she asked quietly, her voice trembling.

“All the ones since I met you, yeah,” he admitted.

“Jesus christ,” she whispered, putting her head in her hands. A dozen different questions raced through her mind, none of them she was certain she wanted the honest answer to. She wanted to be out of this room, away from Aemond, to forget what she’d seen and everything he’d told her.

“I know how it must seem, but–”

“I don’t care how it seems, I don’t want to hear it,” she cried, grabbing the Switch case and bolting from his room. She took the stairs two at a time, her face burning hot and a lump forming rapidly in her throat.

Alicent and Criston had made a tremendous effort for Christmas lunch; an enormous turkey sat in the centre of the dining table, alongside a nut roast for Helaena, with side dishes of roasted chestnuts, potatoes, brussels sprouts, stuffing, carrots, gravy and cranberry sauce all in abundance.

Despite how delicious it all looked, she couldn’t begin to fathom eating any of it. Her stomach churned, she felt shaky and nauseated, her mind unable to focus on anything besides the videos she’d seen on Aemond’s laptop. The calmness of his reaction had unnerved her. Regardless of her lack of appetite, she kept her focus fixed upon her plate, determined not to look up and see him as he sat opposite her. She poked aimlessly at a carrot, pushing it around on her plate.

“You okay?” Aegon whispered, leaning across to her, “You’ve not eaten anything.”

“Oh no, do you not like the food?” Alicent asked with concern, having overheard.

She raised her head, immediately feeling guilty as she saw her mother in law’s brow furrowed in worry. The last thing she wanted to do was insult her cooking when she’d gone to all this effort.

“It’s lovely,” she said, forcing a polite smile, “just feeling a bit hot. I might pop out for some fresh air before I finish my plate.”

“I can make you something else, if you’d prefer?” Alicent offered.

She hated the silence that had fallen around the table, hated the eyes she could feel upon her.

“Really, this is delicious,” she reassured, slowly rising from her seat, “just need some air.”

She gently brushed off Aegon’s hand as he reached for her, offering him a tight smile as he looked up at her with a puzzled look upon his face. “Back in a sec.”

The cold air against her skin felt like the prick of a thousand tiny needles as she stepped outside, wrapping her arms around herself. She huffed out a shaky breath, sending a plume of white billowing outwards in front of her. She tried to keep her focus on the rose bushes that framed the perimeter of the lawn, a means to ground herself and draw her focus elsewhere, to anything but Aemond. She wanted to go home. She hadn’t done anything wrong, and yet she couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt, of the fact that she had unearthed something that now couldn’t be undone.

Hearing the French doors to the patio open and then close gently from behind her, she sighed, her shoulders sagging as she rolled her eyes, not bothering to turn around. “Honestly, I’m fine, Aegon, just go back inside.”

“It’s not Aegon, it’s me.”

She froze, the sound of Aemond’s voice made her heart lurch, but her initial shock quickly morphed into anger and she whipped around to face him. She watched as he cupped his hand around his lighter, the brief flicker of the flame casting an orange glow over his sharp features as he lit his cigarette.

“You shouldn’t have followed me out here.”

He narrowed his eye, observing her silently as he blew a tight line of smoke out through pursed lips. “Bold of you to assume that. I always have a cigarette after I’ve eaten.”

“If Aegon catches us–”

“If Aegon catches us, then what? What is there to tell him?”

“I don’t know, but something about this feels wrong.”

“You’ve done nothing wrong, so there’s nothing to tell him.”

“And what about you?”

“I’ve managed to say nothing for three years,” he replied with a shrug, taking another pull on his cigarette.

“Christ, Aemond, what does that even mean?!” she demanded, losing all patience, as she threw her hands up in irritation.

“It’s better that you don’t know,” he admitted, averting his gaze and exhaling smoke slowly through his nose.

“If it concerns me then I have a right to.” She folded her arms across her chest, staring at him defiantly.

His head snapped up, nostrils flaring as he advanced upon her, causing her to take a step back. “You want to know? Fine. Being around you is fucking torturous.”

“I—I’m sorry…” she stammered, as her heart hammered wildly in her chest, tendrils of fear creeping along her spine.

“No, I am,” he laughed bitterly, shaking his head, “because I’m so irrevocably, incomprehensibly, driven to the brink of insanity, in love with you that every moment I’m with you I spend cursing my luck that Aegon met you first.”

Her breath hitched, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes as her lips parted in shock. She stared at him in wide eyed disbelief, as he gazed back in saddened resignation, his cigarette burning to ash between his fingers.

“You can’t…we can’t,” she stammered, “I’m with Aegon, I can’t…”

“I’m not asking you to,” he whispered sadly.

“So now what?”she asked, her voice trembling as a tear slipped down her cheek.

“You go back inside,” he replied, reaching up with his free hand to wipe her tear away with the pad of his thumb. The gentle touch made her skin tingle. “And you say nothing, and I continue to love you from afar, just as it’s always been.”

Her feet carried her on autopilot, she felt numb, but paused in the living room to wipe her eyes and compose herself before heading back to the dining room. She grabbed for her wine glass as she took her seat once more, downing its contents in a single gulp and relishing in the way the burn in her throat and chest gave her something else to focus on.

Aegon grinned, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and tugging her close. “Glad someone’s found their Christmas spirit!”

God, how she wished that were true.

She felt like a spectator in her own body for the rest of the day, going through the motions but not really participating, simply acting on autopilot. She barely registered the arguments over post Christmas lunch board games, for once grateful that Aegon was so plastered he hadn’t noticed how far into herself she’d retreated. She kept stealing glances at Aemond, unable to believe his confession to her in the garden earlier. He was never someone she would ever have considered as a romantic prospect, because he was just so closed off. Now she found herself studying the way his snowy hair fell across his forehead, the sharp angles of his side profile, the gentle curve of his lips. She hated herself for it, as though on some level she was being unfaithful, even though she hadn’t asked for any of this.

Not even Aegon’s snoring was enough to penetrate through her wall of thought as she lay in bed with him that night. Aemond didn’t know her, not really, so he couldn’t love her. It was a silly crush, he’d get over it, and everything would be back to normal the next time they descended upon Alicent’s house for a visit. She kept the reassurance on a loop in her mind, allowing it to lull her into an uneasy sleep.

She didn’t think she had ever been so glad to pack a bag the following morning, as her and Aegon readied themselves to leave. She couldn’t wait to see the back of this place, to forget about all of this and just get back to the cosy life that she and Aegon shared together.

“Gonna have one last hurrah in mum’s rain shower,” Aegon told her, grabbing a pair of socks from his bag and giving them a sniff to make sure they were clean, “see how much of a dent I can put in the hot water before we set off.”

“Alright, but don’t be too long, I wanna get on the road soon.”

“You’re even more desperate to leave than I am,” he said, studying her carefully, “what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” she reassured him, stepping towards him and winding her arms around his neck, “just keen to get the drive over with, you know how much I hate it.”

He smiled, giving her a gentle kiss on the tip of her nose. “How could you hate it with me as your passenger princess? I’ll think up a playlist while I’m showering.”

She was zipping her bag up, looking around Aegon’s bedroom to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything, when there was a gentle knock on the partially open door.

“Come in,” she uttered distractedly, grabbing Sunfyre’s tennis ball from under the bed.

She righted herself, stiffening when she saw it was Aemond. He hovered in the doorway, his posture one of awkward uncertainty as he held the plaque she’d unwrapped the day before in his hands. “You left this on the coffee table downstairs. Just wanted to make sure you didn’t forget it.”

“Oh, right…thanks,” she said quietly, taking it from him and wrapping it in a jumper before placing it in one of the bags.

“I just wanted to–”

“Listen, I–”

Both of them smiled coyly, before Aemond gestured towards her. “You go.”

She gave a nod, stepping closer to him. “Look, I just wanted to apologise for overreacting yesterday. It’s just a silly crush, and I’m sure with time it’ll fade.”

“Don’t do that,” he said with a frown.

“Do what?”

“Diminish my feelings.”

“I’m not, but you don’t even know me…”

“Did you like my gift?”

“What?”

“The plaque, you seemed quite choked up by it yesterday. And the book the year before that, and the bracelet the year before that.”

“Those were all from you?” she asked, her chest suddenly feeling too tight as her stomach churned with shock and unease.

“Yes, so I’d say I know you rather well. What did Aegon get you?”

“Headphones.”

Aemond cocked an eyebrow. “Very thoughtful.”

“Don’t do that,” she said, mirroring his stern tone from earlier.

He sighed. “Sorry, I’m not trying to mess things up for you guys.”

“Then what are you trying to do?”

“I just want you to be happy, and if it’s Aegon that makes you happy then I’m content with that. I know my love is wasted, but if you’ll allow it, let’s just carry on as we have been. It seems to have worked for us so far.”

She softened at his words, and he reached for her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. She found herself squeezing back, committing to memory how his palm sculpted to her own, his fingers covering hers.

“In another lifetime,” she whispered sadly, drawing back.

“In another lifetime we’d be fucking great together,” he smirked, “until next time.”

She watched as he disappeared from the room, fighting the urge to cry, knowing that Aegon would be out of the shower any minute.

As she settled into the driver’s seat, the car packed up and goodbyes exchanged, Aegon turned to her. “Told you we’d got it,” he said with a proud smile.

Yet as his hand reached for hers, squeezing it in reassurance, she could only think of how different it felt to Aemond’s.

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#aemond fic reblog #ange you’ve sent me spiraling

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