summary | Aemond isn't lovable, he never has been. In his insecurity he finds you. He always finds you.
pairing | Aemond Targaryen x fem!wife!reader
tags | not proof read (when is it ever), mentions of death, grief, killing of innocents, war crimes (kinda), low-key shitting writing I'm not gonna play with ya'll. Genuinely just angst
w.c. | 1.4 k
note(s) | Loosely based off of Conan Gray's "Alley Rose". This is literally pulled from my ass cause I wanna write but I didn't know what to write so I'm just going off the dome.
___________________________________________
Aemond was a vice. He corrupted everything he touched and everyone he loved. He made the wind stop singing and the moon stop shining. At least, that was what everyone had told him, or made him, believe.
But you were different. Somehow in this dark and cruel world Aemond found a beacon of light. He found you. You made him feel. Anything. Everything. All at once. He felt overwhelmed with you; How could someone like you-internally unsullied and outwardly unbroken by the horrors and disappointments of life-be so comforting to him, and yet also find comfort in him.
___________________________________________
He laid his head on your chest, his large hands gripping your sides as you ran your fingers through his hair. He closed his eyes, sighing as he melted in the embrace. You two said nothing yet a million things at once. “You’re safe with me.” “I love you.” “You’re going to be okay.” All these things circulated Aemond’s mind instead of the normal, self deprecated thoughts that lead him to do drastic things.
He looked up at you, his eye softening as he caught you already staring at him. He breathed out slowly, his large palm stroking your sides absentmindedly.
“You keep me sane.” He whispered, staring into your eyes as he slowly trailed kisses up your naked body. “Sane…comforted…” He murmured, his eye fluttering closed at the feeling of your soft skin against his chapped lips. “Loved.” He finally breathed out, before resting his forehead against the side of your neck. He’d often do this, breathing words that seemingly didn’t make sense, but felt like small praises to you.
You smiled, looking down at your hands. You slowly laced your hands with his, admiring how they looked together-as if these two specific pairs of hands were always meant to melt into the hold of each other.
“I am glad I can be such a comfort to you, Aemond. Just as you are to me.” You breathed out, bringing his hand up and kissing his knuckles.
“Why?” He asked.
“Why what?”
“Why do you feel comforted by me when I am so broken?”
You paused for a moment, thinking over your answer as you played with his long fingers.
“Broken things can be mended.”
“Sometimes I fear that I am too broken to be mended.” He sighed heavily, closing his eye and nuzzling his head against your neck.
“Perhaps it is the broken pieces that make you Aemond Targaryen. Perhaps it is the fact that you are so easily broken down that makes you the man that you are.” You replied.
“That man sounds weak.” He scoffed, his hands tightening slightly around your hand and waist. He always feared that he would lose you. He would never leave you, you were too precious to him. You were too much of a comfort to him to let go, which in truth, is why he thought that you’d leave him someday. He depended on you and your comfort so much that he feared at times, it could be suffocating.
But you didn’t mind. When you saw Aemond, you saw the broken boy of his youth, deprived of what he could have had; Love, affection, acceptance. You wished to give such things to him. You wished to make him want for nothing, as long as he had you.
“That man sounds vulnerable,” You corrected, pulling away from him slightly to stare down into his lilac eye. “Vulnerability is what carves connection, Aemond.” At your words he hummed, sighing heavily as he replied,
“Vulnerability kills people like me.”
“Only if you are vulnerable to the wrong people.” She breathed out, remembering all the times he tried to be vulnerable with his mother, only to have her manipulate and abuse the vulnerability to try and get into her son’s mind.
“Everyone seems to be the wrong person.” He replied.
“Everyone? Even me?” You asked.
“No. Never you.” He answered.
___________________________________________
“You burned down Sharp Point?” You questioned, and the offense in your tone almost made Aemond flinch. Aemond clenched his jaw, holding his hands behind his back as he looked out over the terrace.
“It needed to be done.”
“Why? To prove your worth? Solidify the fact that you will stop at nothing if it means to gain something?” You almost laughed at the notion, and Aemond’s anger got stronger. How dare you question him? The Prince Regent, the protector of the realm?
“I have my reasons.” He answered.
“Reasons you have yet to share with me-”
“I needn’t share everything I do with you. You have no taste for political jargon such as this.” You scoffed as he spoke, staring up at him in disbelief.
“Political Jargon? Aemond you killed and harmed innocents.”
“The cost of war.” Your heart stopped. You didn’t expect him to be so callous, so heartless when it came to the very civilians that the crown deepened on. Suddenly, he continued, “I must go to Harrenhal.”
“Why?”
“To face my uncle.”
“And if you die?”
“At least it will be done in battle.” He spoke, you softened. Aemond would never admit it, but he did fear death, the great beyond that no one knew about nor wished to experience. You stepped forward, gently wrapping your hand around his. A gesture not of forgiveness-you thought that you could never forgive him, for being so cruel-but a gesture of comfort. Because even if Aemond was a cruel man, he was no monster, at least not in the depths of his heart. And even if he was, monster’s needed comfort too.
___________________________________________
The next morning Aemond would leave for Harrenhal. You watched as he readied his horse to ride to Vhagar. You studied him, looking for any signs of anxiety or uncertainty. But of course, you saw none. Aemond was good at the mask he wore, good at keeping it on but never good at taking it off.
You stepped forward, taking his hand in both of yours. He looked down at your hands for a moment, before he sighed and brought the hand up to his lips.
“I will return.” He murmured, kissing the soft skin of your knuckles. You smiled at the feeling, sighing softly as you spoke,
“I have no doubts that you won’t.” Aemond seemed pleased by this. He leaned down, pressing his lips against yours in a quick, hurried manner before pulling away. He studied you for a moment, not because he was afraid to forget your face in the eye of death, but because he needed a reminder of what he wished to come home to, of what was at stake.
___________________________________________
The news of Aemond’s death came to you quickly, and in the dead of night as you sat by the fire. A guard had come to you with the news.
Your husband has passed, princess. At the hands of Daemon Targaryen.
You felt your world crumble and your very being shaken. He had died, fighting like a true Targaryen. Yet the notion did not comfort you. It did not bring you solace to know that your husband had died like a Targaryen. You had longed for his arms, for his loving gaze and gentle caresses.
Grief did not even begin to describe how much pain you felt. You had lost your husband, your childhood friend, everything that you had based yourself around; your past, present, and your future, gone.
You screamed, as the servants gossiped, for days. You cried until your eyes bled, and you screamed until your throat felt as though it would throw itself up.
You blamed Alicent for making her son like this. You blamed Viserys for never being there. You blamed Daemon for landing the killing blow on your husband. But, you feared that above all you blamed yourself.
You could not have stopped the murder of your husband, nor his inevitable death, but the idea-the slightest notion-that you could have held him back for mere moments, or that you could have asked him to suspend the trip, genuinely anything to make him stay. Yet you didn’t, and the idea gnawed at you.
Not even a full moon after Aemond’s death you died of what only the Maester’s could describe as heartbreak. And in the afterlife he waited for you. And there was light in the darkness again.
Oh???? My???? God??? HOTD WRITERS PUT ME ON BRUH WTF???? That ending was fucking horrid?? First of all, why in the good Lords name would Alicent ever sacrifice her son?? Like…She was constantly instilling the fear in them that Rhaenyra would kill them but now she seeks to do the same basically??
Also, her betraying Aemond? Like fuck me backwards dude what in the entirety of gods bussy is this.
I have to wait two years for this to come out again, and if it’s shit i might just end it all (jokes).
From destroying beloved characters, to making characters to likeable, to totally taking characters out of the show and giving old characters new personalities to seem more likeable, House of The Dragon has REALLLLY disappointed this season.
OH ONE MORE THING??? The HOTD team said that Aemond was really going to like “shine” or whatever in this next season but we got more scenes of Alicent being a twisty bitch than we did Aemond. The HOTD team is really using Ewan/Aemond-Known for being one of the more notable and loved actor/characters-as press so that their views will go up, while totally butchering the characters they are setting up for “victory.”
“Aegon the realm’s delight” is the saddest line ever. Aegon wants to be a daughter so bad. To be coddled and gazed upon with love and affection rather than distain and fear. Rhaenyra wishes to be a son. She wants the loyalty everyone has to be unwavering. She wants to be feared and respected like a man. They are truly two sides of the same coin.
Oh???? My???? God??? HOTD WRITERS PUT ME ON BRUH WTF???? That ending was fucking horrid?? First of all, why in the good Lords name would Alicent ever sacrifice her son?? Like…She was constantly instilling the fear in them that Rhaenyra would kill them but now she seeks to do the same basically??
Also, her betraying Aemond? Like fuck me backwards dude what in the entirety of gods bussy is this.
I have to wait two years for this to come out again, and if it’s shit i might just end it all (jokes).
From destroying beloved characters, to making characters to likeable, to totally taking characters out of the show and giving old characters new personalities to seem more likeable, House of The Dragon has REALLLLY disappointed this season.
I just had to tell you that you are SUCH a good writer!!!
They honestly needed you in the HOTD writers room. You have such vision and you're writing is so eloquent!
STOP WHAT??? LIL OL’ ME????
i’m gonna cry. BUT THANK YOU SO MUCH 😭😭
I honestly have so many ideas of how to just make any and all of the characters “better”, and idk writing is a passion and i would kill for a chance to do that for HOTD or any sort of movie/show!!
request: Aemond x ( Rhaenyra x Criston daughter ) niece were married and having a son. instead kill aegon son b&c kill Aemond son. How Rhaenyra daughter try to save her son from b&c and what people react after find out about Aemond son being kill. I need this fic so bad…
summary | Daemon took Rhaenyra's words literally. "A son for a son" he said. Who knew that it would be your son?
pairing | Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Wife!Reader
tags | mentions of BLOOD, extreme grief, talk of child murdering, knifes, MORE BLOOD, infanticide, DEATH, extreme grief. mentions of murder
w.c | 3.8k
TW!!!!!!!!! | I personally have a very gruesome writing style when it comes to things like this, so if anything relating to infanticide or violence will trigger or bother you please don't read!!
____________________________________________
You loved your son. You named your son Baelon, after your mothers lost brother. Aemond knew how much you love Baelon, and he would be a fool if he said he did not love his son as well.
Aemond tried to pride himself with being stoic and emotionally unavailable. But the minute they put his squirming son's body in his arms he felt his whole world resolve. The boy was the most beautiful thing to him, and he couldn’t believe that half of this being came from him.
Ever since that night, Aemond became softer. When you weren’t breastfeeding, or when you got tired from taking care of the crying infant, Aemond would immediately offer to take the boy. When Bealon would cry in the middle of the night, Aemond would be up almost immediately, rushing to be at the babe's side. It took you almost forty minutes to convince him that it would be better if he slept with you and not in the nursery.
And everything was fine until the night he killed Luke.
Aemond would come back to the Keep late at night, still shaken from what he had involuntarily done. When he got back to his chambers, he saw his wife, his sweet, innocent wife holding his son.
You had a smile on your face, Baelon coo’ing in your arms as he giggled and reached up to play with your braided, black hair. When you looked up, and noticed Aemond, your smile faltered.
Aemond stared at you, and for a second his face was his normal and stoic, but the minute his son, his little Baelon, reached for him with a smile he broke down.
That night he told you everything; He apologized profusely, and for the first time in all of Baelon’s four months of living, he refused to hold him.
“I’ll only hurt him.” Is what Aemond told you. Your heart broke a little when you heard this, and you tried to reassure him but he wouldn’t have any of it.
____________________________________________
“Aemond?” Aemond stopped, looking at you with a soft sigh.
“Darling, what have I told you about sleeping on the couch?” His voice was tired, full of weariness from having to deal with Aegon’s antics. You smiled softly as you sat up, holding out your hands out for him. He sighed as he sat down with you. He immediately cuddled against you, letting out a long, heavy breath as his head come into contact with your chest.
This was how you two spent most of your time now. At night, Aemond would come to you and he would cuddle against you, yearning for that love and affection only you could seemingly give him. You two sat like this for a while, you stroking his head, and him stroking your stomach.
“...I do regret that business with Luke, you know.”
“I know.”
There was more silence. It seemed that between you and Baelon, the only time Aemond’s mind was quiet now was when he was with you, in your embrace, being held by you. Not being treated as a monster, or a ruthless warrior, but rather just a man. Just your husband.
In the distance, you heard the sound of your son’s wails. You sighed heavily, and you looked down at Aemond.
“Perhaps he wishes for his father’s arms.” You spoke softly, watching as Aemond slowly sat up.
“He does not.” He shook his head, leaning against the back of the couch. He avoided your gaze, knowing the somber look you were giving him.
“Are you sure you do not wish to join me?” Aemond sat still, a look on his face that held some sort of thought before he shook his head softly.
“I’ll see him first thing in the morning, my love.” You smiled at the thought, and you held his hand as you walked away. He watched you leave, a sad smile on his face. The wails from Baelon stopped moments later, and Aemond sighed heavily.
Tomorrow, he thought, i’ll see him tomorrow.
The worst part about this sentiment is that Aemond would see his son tomorrow. However, Baelon would be on a pyre.
____________________________________________
The night started off peaceful. You sat in your rocking chair, rocking back and forth with Baelon in your arms. You smiled to yourself, holding the-now-sleeping babe in your arms. You hadn’t even registered the two men behind you.
When one of them accidently knocked something over, you immediately jumped.
“Aemond?” You whispered, quickly turning around. However, you were met with the face of two, unruly men you didn’t recognize. You saw the bag they held, along with the rat traps. “Who-Who are you?” You tried to stay strong, but you knew your voice gave away your fear.
One of the men, the taller, bigger one looked you up and down. He turned to the other man and spoke softly. “Who is she?”
“This…Is the one eyed prince’s wife.” Your breath hitched as the shorter man spoke. They both looked reasonably dirty, like rat catchers, but you knew something was wrong.
“There are no rats in here.” The two men started to walk towards you, murmuring something about your husband underneath their breath. You had half a mind to turn and run, but they seemed to have the same idea.
The shorter man came to you, and put a knife to your throat. You gasped, and clutched Baelon closer to you. The boy whined softly at the pressure.
“Give us the boy, and we won’t hurt you.” The taller man spoke. You looked at him and held Baelon tighter.
“You have no business with my son-”
“Give us the boy!” The taller men yelled. You flinched, and at the sudden noise, Baelon started to cry. You looked between the men, and you felt tears in your eyes as the anxiety started to build up in your chest.
“I-I have uhm..I have many valuable items. I have gold! I have lots of gold that I have no need for-”
The taller man kicked the edge of Baelon’s crib and you held back a scream. The taller men started to speak to the shorter man, but the words they spoke didn’t process fully in your brain. All you saw was an open door.
“AEM-” You started to scream your husband's name, but the man with the knife to your throat pushed the knife further and grabbed your hair roughly. You cried, and Baelon wailed in your arms. The taller man put his hand on Baelon’s head and tried to pry him from you grip.
“NO!” You cried out, trying to pull him back, but it didn’t work. With a quick snap your boy was pried from you. The shorter man threw you back, causing you to hit your head against the chair you were previously rocking in.
Your head was fuzzy, and all you heard was the wails of your son, painful wails that slowly died down. When you sat up, you saw the men putting the tiny head of your son in a bag. Your whole world stopped, and just as the men escaped down the hall, you screamed.
Your chest ached, and your throat burned. You stare down at the body, slowly crawling to it as you shake your head and mutter small, inconsistent prayers to yourself. You reached out a hand, placing it on the body’s belly, rubbing it softly as if that would relieve some of the pain that was given to your innocent baby boy.
You choked on your own tears, wishing for nothing more than your own death in that moment. Screams erupted from your throat; Horrid, painful screams followed by sobs. This pain, this all consuming immeasurable pain you wished on no one. The feeling of your own blood on your hands as you stared at the decapitated body was sickening, but you couldn’t look away.
How could something so small hold so much blood? You thought to yourself, watching as the blood spilled from the clumsy cut.
Alicent was the first to arrive, followed by Aemond soon after. Alicent stared at the scene in front of her, and while she resented you (seeing you as a constant reminder of Rhaenyra’s blatant lie to her), the pain she felt for you was disgusting. She backed out of the room slowly and placed a hand on her stomach to ground herself.
Aemond couldn’t step into the room. He just stared down at you, his son's body. The thought that this headless, infants body was his own son’s, his baby boy’s-
He couldn’t move. The pain for him was nothing short of paralyzing. But what broke him the most was you.
You sobbed, violently sobbed as you placed your hands in your son's blood and tried to pull it back. As if that would fix everything. Aemond felt nauseous, seeing you so desperately cling to the idea that you could fix this. Once the realization started to settle that this was not helping, your body seemed to shut down. You laid down, holding your hands on your son's body as you sobbed.
No words were exchanged, not knowing what to say. Aemond leaned against the door frame, mind numb as he slowly slid down the frame. He stared at nothing, his mind replaying all the times he held the boy, watched him smile.
____________________________________________
Aemond stood next to you the following day, watching as your baby boy's body was burned on a pillar. He was numb, his face pale and full of so much grief that it sobered anyone up.
You were a mess. Tears and incoherent sobs escaped your throat, and you clung to Aemond. Aemond stayed still, gently holding you as if any small movement would cause the last shred of resolve to leave your body.
As the fire burned, you buried your face into Aemond’s chest, refusing to watch. Aemond let you, holding your head softly.
But Aemond stared. He watched as the wrapped body was consumed by the flames. He forced himself to watch as the flames consumed his son, his own retribution for not being there, for not helping you, for not holding his son one last time.
As he watched the ashes of the pyre falter, Aemond made a promise to himself.
He would kill Daemon Targaryen with his own hands.
request: Aemond x ( Rhaenyra x Criston daughter ) niece were married and having a son. instead kill aegon son b&c kill Aemond son. How Rhaenyra daughter try to save her son from b&c and what people react after find out about Aemond son being kill. I need this fic so bad…
summary | Daemon took Rhaenyra's words literally. "A son for a son" he said. Who knew that it would be your son?
pairing | Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Wife!Reader
tags | mentions of BLOOD, extreme grief, talk of child murdering, knifes, MORE BLOOD, infanticide, DEATH, extreme grief. mentions of murder
w.c | 3.8k
TW!!!!!!!!! | I personally have a very gruesome writing style when it comes to things like this, so if anything relating to infanticide or violence will trigger or bother you please don't read!!
____________________________________________
You loved your son. You named your son Baelon, after your mothers lost brother. Aemond knew how much you love Baelon, and he would be a fool if he said he did not love his son as well.
Aemond tried to pride himself with being stoic and emotionally unavailable. But the minute they put his squirming son's body in his arms he felt his whole world resolve. The boy was the most beautiful thing to him, and he couldn’t believe that half of this being came from him.
Ever since that night, Aemond became softer. When you weren’t breastfeeding, or when you got tired from taking care of the crying infant, Aemond would immediately offer to take the boy. When Bealon would cry in the middle of the night, Aemond would be up almost immediately, rushing to be at the babe's side. It took you almost forty minutes to convince him that it would be better if he slept with you and not in the nursery.
And everything was fine until the night he killed Luke.
Aemond would come back to the Keep late at night, still shaken from what he had involuntarily done. When he got back to his chambers, he saw his wife, his sweet, innocent wife holding his son.
You had a smile on your face, Baelon coo’ing in your arms as he giggled and reached up to play with your braided, black hair. When you looked up, and noticed Aemond, your smile faltered.
Aemond stared at you, and for a second his face was his normal and stoic, but the minute his son, his little Baelon, reached for him with a smile he broke down.
That night he told you everything; He apologized profusely, and for the first time in all of Baelon’s four months of living, he refused to hold him.
“I’ll only hurt him.” Is what Aemond told you. Your heart broke a little when you heard this, and you tried to reassure him but he wouldn’t have any of it.
____________________________________________
“Aemond?” Aemond stopped, looking at you with a soft sigh.
“Darling, what have I told you about sleeping on the couch?” His voice was tired, full of weariness from having to deal with Aegon’s antics. You smiled softly as you sat up, holding out your hands out for him. He sighed as he sat down with you. He immediately cuddled against you, letting out a long, heavy breath as his head come into contact with your chest.
This was how you two spent most of your time now. At night, Aemond would come to you and he would cuddle against you, yearning for that love and affection only you could seemingly give him. You two sat like this for a while, you stroking his head, and him stroking your stomach.
“...I do regret that business with Luke, you know.”
“I know.”
There was more silence. It seemed that between you and Baelon, the only time Aemond’s mind was quiet now was when he was with you, in your embrace, being held by you. Not being treated as a monster, or a ruthless warrior, but rather just a man. Just your husband.
In the distance, you heard the sound of your son’s wails. You sighed heavily, and you looked down at Aemond.
“Perhaps he wishes for his father’s arms.” You spoke softly, watching as Aemond slowly sat up.
“He does not.” He shook his head, leaning against the back of the couch. He avoided your gaze, knowing the somber look you were giving him.
“Are you sure you do not wish to join me?” Aemond sat still, a look on his face that held some sort of thought before he shook his head softly.
“I’ll see him first thing in the morning, my love.” You smiled at the thought, and you held his hand as you walked away. He watched you leave, a sad smile on his face. The wails from Baelon stopped moments later, and Aemond sighed heavily.
Tomorrow, he thought, i’ll see him tomorrow.
The worst part about this sentiment is that Aemond would see his son tomorrow. However, Baelon would be on a pyre.
____________________________________________
The night started off peaceful. You sat in your rocking chair, rocking back and forth with Baelon in your arms. You smiled to yourself, holding the-now-sleeping babe in your arms. You hadn’t even registered the two men behind you.
When one of them accidently knocked something over, you immediately jumped.
“Aemond?” You whispered, quickly turning around. However, you were met with the face of two, unruly men you didn’t recognize. You saw the bag they held, along with the rat traps. “Who-Who are you?” You tried to stay strong, but you knew your voice gave away your fear.
One of the men, the taller, bigger one looked you up and down. He turned to the other man and spoke softly. “Who is she?”
“This…Is the one eyed prince’s wife.” Your breath hitched as the shorter man spoke. They both looked reasonably dirty, like rat catchers, but you knew something was wrong.
“There are no rats in here.” The two men started to walk towards you, murmuring something about your husband underneath their breath. You had half a mind to turn and run, but they seemed to have the same idea.
The shorter man came to you, and put a knife to your throat. You gasped, and clutched Baelon closer to you. The boy whined softly at the pressure.
“Give us the boy, and we won’t hurt you.” The taller man spoke. You looked at him and held Baelon tighter.
“You have no business with my son-”
“Give us the boy!” The taller men yelled. You flinched, and at the sudden noise, Baelon started to cry. You looked between the men, and you felt tears in your eyes as the anxiety started to build up in your chest.
“I-I have uhm..I have many valuable items. I have gold! I have lots of gold that I have no need for-”
The taller man kicked the edge of Baelon’s crib and you held back a scream. The taller men started to speak to the shorter man, but the words they spoke didn’t process fully in your brain. All you saw was an open door.
“AEM-” You started to scream your husband's name, but the man with the knife to your throat pushed the knife further and grabbed your hair roughly. You cried, and Baelon wailed in your arms. The taller man put his hand on Baelon’s head and tried to pry him from you grip.
“NO!” You cried out, trying to pull him back, but it didn’t work. With a quick snap your boy was pried from you. The shorter man threw you back, causing you to hit your head against the chair you were previously rocking in.
Your head was fuzzy, and all you heard was the wails of your son, painful wails that slowly died down. When you sat up, you saw the men putting the tiny head of your son in a bag. Your whole world stopped, and just as the men escaped down the hall, you screamed.
Your chest ached, and your throat burned. You stare down at the body, slowly crawling to it as you shake your head and mutter small, inconsistent prayers to yourself. You reached out a hand, placing it on the body’s belly, rubbing it softly as if that would relieve some of the pain that was given to your innocent baby boy.
You choked on your own tears, wishing for nothing more than your own death in that moment. Screams erupted from your throat; Horrid, painful screams followed by sobs. This pain, this all consuming immeasurable pain you wished on no one. The feeling of your own blood on your hands as you stared at the decapitated body was sickening, but you couldn’t look away.
How could something so small hold so much blood? You thought to yourself, watching as the blood spilled from the clumsy cut.
Alicent was the first to arrive, followed by Aemond soon after. Alicent stared at the scene in front of her, and while she resented you (seeing you as a constant reminder of Rhaenyra’s blatant lie to her), the pain she felt for you was disgusting. She backed out of the room slowly and placed a hand on her stomach to ground herself.
Aemond couldn’t step into the room. He just stared down at you, his son's body. The thought that this headless, infants body was his own son’s, his baby boy’s-
He couldn’t move. The pain for him was nothing short of paralyzing. But what broke him the most was you.
You sobbed, violently sobbed as you placed your hands in your son's blood and tried to pull it back. As if that would fix everything. Aemond felt nauseous, seeing you so desperately cling to the idea that you could fix this. Once the realization started to settle that this was not helping, your body seemed to shut down. You laid down, holding your hands on your son's body as you sobbed.
No words were exchanged, not knowing what to say. Aemond leaned against the door frame, mind numb as he slowly slid down the frame. He stared at nothing, his mind replaying all the times he held the boy, watched him smile.
____________________________________________
Aemond stood next to you the following day, watching as your baby boy's body was burned on a pillar. He was numb, his face pale and full of so much grief that it sobered anyone up.
You were a mess. Tears and incoherent sobs escaped your throat, and you clung to Aemond. Aemond stayed still, gently holding you as if any small movement would cause the last shred of resolve to leave your body.
As the fire burned, you buried your face into Aemond’s chest, refusing to watch. Aemond let you, holding your head softly.
But Aemond stared. He watched as the wrapped body was consumed by the flames. He forced himself to watch as the flames consumed his son, his own retribution for not being there, for not helping you, for not holding his son one last time.
As he watched the ashes of the pyre falter, Aemond made a promise to himself.
He would kill Daemon Targaryen with his own hands.
Just thinking about running away with Aemond before the battle of gods eye to the North, and spending the rest of your lives there comfortably and danger free.
