Aemonds the type to try and convince himself he’s unfeeling, invulnerable, unbreakable. He tries to convince himself he doesn’t need nor feel anything about his family, besides maybe his mother and sister. But then something will happen, something threatens to take his family away, threatens to harm them and he is forced to face the reality that he does need them, he needs them alive and well because he’s scared to be alone.
Aegon is a nuisance, a drunk, a coward; he doesn’t need him, he tries to convince himself. He’s unfit for the crown yet their grandsire is convince he is their ticket to power, all while Aemond, the son who studies and trains and dedicates himself to maintaining the perfect image is sitting right there. He was convinced he would be better off without Aegon.
He’s convinced of that until Aegon’s life is balancing on a knife blade and their is nothing anyone, especially not little Aemond, can do about it. Aegon falls into his cups per usual, falls asleep in one of the many nooks within the castle, and his grandsire puts it upon himself to flush out the boy. Maybe Aegon was already worse for wear when Otto found him, maybe not, but one things for certain, Otto took it too far. He put on a display of punishing the boy right where he laid, throwing insults, kicking at him as he made little protest. dragging him up by his collar and a few locks of knotted white hair to scream in his face. Otto didn’t seem to question anything when his grandson slumped back down the wall without a sound,
Maybe Aemond finds him, jesting him as he usually does, until he realizes his brothers stillness or the awkward angle his head is resting against his chest. Maybe he feels his stomach drop as he too drops to his knees ans pull Aegon’s limp body into his lap, smoothing back his hair to find the bruises their grandsire left. Maybe he screams and keeps screaming, first for help, and then for his brother to wake up. Maybe he starts to grapple to his body, shaking his shoulders and slapping pale cheeks in an attempt to wake him. Maybe he throws his head to Aegon’s chest and listens to the feeble little flutter that is his heart as he waits what feels like a lifetime for someone to come.
Or maybe he is called into his brothers chamber in the middle of the night, given only enough information to put some pep in his step, but not enough to prepare him for the sight of his brother, lying there in bed, with his family there to give him a vigil. He wasn’t prepared for the bruises or the stillness or how slowly Aegon’s breathing is. He’s no idiot, he knows whats happened, its happened time and time again. But this time his brothers life is slipping away, and the man who’s taken it is standing in the corner.
No matter how it happens, Aemond never leaves Aegon’s side, he watches every breath, and keeps a hand pressed to his brother chest, right above his heart, coaxing it to keep beating, to keep him here a little longer. He yells some, mostly at Otto, some at his brother, even a little at his mother. He’s angry; his grandsire not only beat him while he was defenseless, but he left him there to die; his brothers bad habits were taking him away, the same habits Aemond had tried to get him to break time and time again only to get shoved away, and now Aegon was dying, it wasn’t fair; his mother kept trying to pull him away, tried to get him to go back to bed, to keep from seeing Aegon struggle to take a breath in after the next, when Aemond felt he belonged right where he was, pressed into his brothers side.
Eventually the room would settle, a heavy silence would drape over mourning figures, but no one would dare break it. Aemond spiraled into frantically whispered apologies, one arm wrapped around his brother, the other still planted above his heart. He’s be too tired to beg at this point, only whisper little words of encouragement or praise every now. He’d press little kisses to his brothers jaw and cheek and the corner of his lips, because they never exchanged such acts of love or affection with one another and this may be his last chance to do so. He tells him just how much he loves him, how much he needs him to stay, how they’ll do better, they’ll all do better (thats a lie, but he doesn’t know it yet), that he’ll protect him from Otto (he’s too young to know not only that he can’t protect Aegon, no matter how hard he tries, but even more so, that he shouldn’t have to). He clung to him as if he was Aegon’s only tie to the living world.
Days pass with little change, Aegon barely moves, barely breathes. He wakes for a few short moments, his eyes falling on Aemond before rolling back into his skull with a sad sigh. His fingers twitch around his little brothers every once and a while, and it gives him hope.
He sits with his mom as she brushes out Aegon’s hair, helping with his own nimble fingers, the two working in silence until the all of Aegon’s hair is nicely laid out on the pillow. He and Helaena watch over him night after night, barely speaking, yet they both seemed to know what the other was thinking, acting in unison to care for their sickly big brother. Their father joins them, only in the passing our and for a few moments at a time, those moments so heavy and awkward its the only time Aemond thinks of fleeing the room. Viserys looks over his child, his blood, with barely hid disdain. The first time he visits he barely manages to touch him, to comb back his hair and pat his chest before leaving. Otto has been barred from the room (per multiple, loud, requests from Aemond) but it doesn’t stop him from lurking outside the door, staring at him with an expression that Aemond couldn’t place, but one that made his entire body go aflame with anger.
Even his half sister and her boys showed up. Jace was the first to find his way to Aegons chamber, not saying a word, but rather, he took the clasped hands of both blonde boys in his own, sitting on the edge of the bed sniffling. Surprisingly, Aemond wasn’t upset with this intrusion, Jace’s warm touch didn’t sting like others did, and Aegon perked up when Jace began to talk to him lightly. Eventually peace was broken, Luke and both mothers joined them, creating all sorts of noise, but Jace’s hand never left Aemonds. He focused on that when all else was wrong in the room, when his half sister got a bit to close for comfort (she was barely their sister, just someone who ignored them and put them in danger), when luke started playing dumb and asking stupid questions (luke was given a liberty Aemond would come to understand many years down the line, one he one yearn for, that liberty was being allowed to grow up innocent. Luke didn’t understand The Stranger could come for someone so young, who had never seen battle, who looked just fine), even when people tried to get him to move, Jace’s hand stayed clasped to his, and it was all ok.
it would take weeks for Aegon to fully recover; he didn’t wake for almost a week, didn’t get up on his own for 2. His head ached and he couldn’t seem to find his balance, not to mention the weight he had already lost paired with his uncooperative stomach, or the breathlessness and chest pain. Maesters from all over Westeros came to treat with no avail, but he had his brother and he had Jace, he knew that even through the constant fog that plauged him.
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