#aemond x omc

[queenielacy]

Imagine Aemond having a male lover…

Aemond experienced little desire in his life. It had been instilled in him since he was a young boy that his desires didn’t matter, duty always trumped desire. His strongest desire, the only one he’d ever given into, was to have a dragon and he lost an eye to satisfy that desire. For him, it had been a fair trade. The few times he had experienced desire since then, it hadn’t been nearly as strong and he quickly figured out that giving in would do nothing for him. He would gain nothing, so he pushed the desire away and continued on his path.

The first time Aemond saw him he felt that same desire bubble up inside of him. It was the same as his desire to claim a dragon, maybe even greater than that desire. This overwhelming need to claim him as his own. The dragon within wouldn’t allow him to ignore the feelings, as any good son should do. Aemond’s thoughts were consumed by him. He dreamt of him and woke with his name on his lips. He couldn’t escape his desire. Aemond, despite his discipline and sense of duty, couldn’t take it anymore and gave into his desires. Luckily, his desire was reciprocated.

Aemond was careful, discreet, with his lover. He knew this behavior was not expected of him and his family (i.e. mother) would not be pleased. His lover also understood the importance of discretion, so it was easy to keep their affair a secret. They spent a long time in the shadows until one night at a royal banquet, Aemond became jealous of the attention his lover received from both men and women. His lover flirted back and danced with some of the women in attendance and the possessive dragon didn’t like that. His annoyance grew every time another man threw his lover a wink or a woman grabbed at his arm. After the banquet, he cornered his lover in a dark hall. He couldn’t wait until they returned to his chambers. His lover scolded him, complaining that someone may see but made no move to push him away. “Good.” Aemond whispered. He didn’t want to share his lover’s attention. He wanted him all to himself. It was only in these moments that he could.

Unfortunately, they were not alone that night. Ser Crispy Criston happen to see them and like a child running to his mother, he went straight to Alicent to tell her what he saw. She couldn’t believe it at first but knew deep down that Criston wouldn’t lie to her, especially about something like this. It was no matter. She was not worried, because Aemond was her good son. The son who, like her, put duty above everything. She blamed herself. It was her fault for not properly explaining why this sort of relationship couldn’t happen. If he was someone else, maybe, but as the second son of the king…She would sit Aemond down and explain her reasoning, and explain his duty, as she had done before on other matters, and Aemond would end whatever was going on between him and the other young man.

That is exactly what Alicent did the next day. She tries her best to ignore the small dark mark poking out from under Aemond’s collar and tells him that she knows about the affair. She explains, without anger or malice in her voice, that this cannot continue. She explains his role, his duty as the second son. His need to marry a highborn lady to form a strong alliance for his brother, so that he may safely come to the throne and rule. A silent moment passes between them and Alicent takes a sip of tea. Aemond often takes a moment to think and process the information after their talks, so his silence isn’t worrying. What is worrying is how calmly and gracefully Aemond says, “No”. Alicent almost spits out her tea at Aemond’s one word reply. She wasn’t expecting that.

The two argue. Alicent yells and Aemond keeps his voice low, but there is an edge to it. Aemond won’t bend and neither will Alicent. She speaks of sacrifice and Aemond reminds her that he’s always done his duty, sacrificed for a brother who doesn’t even want to be king, is not fit to be king. All his brother does is drink and lay with whores. He doesn’t study or train as hard as him. Where is his reminder of duty and sacrifice? They argue in a circle until Aemond makes a quip about Alicent being unhappy, and just because she is unhappy doesn’t mean the rest of them have to be. Alicent slaps him across the face before she knows what she’s done. It’s the only time he’s ever hit her son.

Aemond exits quickly after that and storms through the palace to find his lover. He soon finds him with Helaena. She was the only one that knew about them (before today). She knew they would be together before he did (because visions) as Aemond thinks back to all of the cryptic statements she made before they officially coupled and then the simple “He is good for you, brother” the day after Aemond bedded his lover for the first time. Aemond kisses his lover before he can even speak. He tells his lover that his mother knows about them, and his lover says with a sad smile that the kiss was a goodbye one but Aemond just smirks and kisses him again. This is only the beginning.

Helaena’s smile falters as she stares at her brother and his lover. “A knight steals from the dragon’s nest” The dragon must protect his treasure.

[with-blood-and-fire]

Fic: Even Monsters Need a Gentle Touch Chapter 5

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Title: Even Monsters Need a Gentle Touch

Chapter: 5

Summary:

Aemond is used to people steering away from him, avoiding eye contact and whispering about him behind his back. He pretends not to notice and not to care. But in truth, his heart aches at the thought that no one can love him with the scar on his face.

Luckily, someone comes along who will fix everything. Someone who will love him despite his scar. At least so Aemond thinks. Things go downhill and after a traumatic event, Alicent sends Aemond to negotiate with Rhaenyra at Dragonstone.

Unfortunately, Aemond is taken prisoner almost immediately by the Princess and her husband and is forced to reside in the castle with them. Thought it is a tough start to his new life, eventually Aemond finds that love and care is not so hard to come across after all.

Pairing: Endgame Aemond/Jacaerys, but starts out Aemond/OMC

Rating: Will eventually be NC-17, but starts out relatively tame

Warning: None

“Checkmate, Ser Ellion.” Aemond smirks as he knocks the knight’s King over with his Queen, and leans back in his chair. He crosses his legs and twines his fingers together to rest upon his leather-clad jerkin.

It had been a few weeks now that the knight and brother of the King had begun to get along. And get along they did. Of course you would not have seen the prince without his loyal knight following like a puppy before, but now it was a regular occurrence to see the two walk side by side through the keep, engrossed in an animated conversation.

“Ah. A shame. I thought I finally had this one, my prince.” Ser Ellion grins and begins to clean the chessboard up from their most recent game in the prince’s quarters. It had become a nightly ritual. After Aemond had once more survived another disappointing meal with his family, he and Ser Ellion would retreat to his chambers to drink, talk, and sometimes play a game of chess.

“Well, if you would like, I could let you win next time.” The Targaryen prince jokes.

“You think you are funny, do you?”

“Perhaps.” Aemond shrugs.

“The night is still warm my prince. Shall we take our wine out onto the balcony so we can enjoy the fresh air?”

It was strange to many in the Red Keep, none having seen their young prince act this way. Even when he was a child in happier times he would seem brooding, quiet, cold and lonely. But now it seemed as if everything he had been holding back for years had come flowing out of him in a river. He could be seen laughing, debating and conversing with his adoring knight. And they were always touching each other. A hand upon a shoulder here, a hand in another guiding them there. Aemond even seemed….happy?

“Please.” Aemond responds.

Ser Ellion takes that as his cue and holds out a hand for the prince. Aemond takes it in his own and allows himself to be pulled out of his chair. He takes his goblet of wine in hand and is guided by a hand on his lower back out onto the balcony. The two finally find themselves leaning against the railing and looking out at the city.

Both Aemond and Ser Ellion are quiet, just enjoying the companionable silence for a long time. Aemond’s thoughts drift off as he sips his wine. The night was warm, as Ser Ellion had said. And the skies were clear. And if the skies were clear, that meant they could see any dragon coming their way to….

No! Aemond chides himself. Do not ruin this evening with silly predictions and worries.

“Is all well, Prince Aemond?” Ser Ellion’s voice cuts through the fog of his mind, so he turns to the taller man and nods.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”

Ser Ellion sets his goblet of wine down precariously upon the railing and turns to look at him.

“You were lost in your thoughts again. When that happens you seem to become sad.”

“I… Let us not speak of it. I would not ruin this enjoyable evening.”

“Your thoughts are important, my prince. And I would have you share what’s on your mind. If only so I help can ease the burden for you.” Ser Ellion rests his hand on top of the one Aemond had placed on the railing and carefully intertwines their fingers.

Aemond is so shocked by the action, still not used to the kind touches, that he forgets what he was thinking about for a moment.

“Prince Aemond?”

“Sorry. I was thinking.” Aemond blushes when Ser Ellion only keeps his hold upon his hand.

“What burdens your mind, my prince?”

“It is just….every day my mother is convinced that Rhaenyra will come flying into King’s Landing to burn us all.”

“And do you think she will?”

“Mother and grandfather are convinced. But I am not so sure. Rhaenyra is many things, but I don’t think she is that cruel. But still, I worry even so. If not for me, than for my family.”

“You are honorable, your grace. To put your families well-being above your own.”

“It is my duty.”

“You need someone to look out for you too. That is my duty. And if your step-sister decides to wage war on us, she will never pass between me and you.”

Aemond looks down with a bittersweet smile.

“You have never been in front of dragon fire have you?”

“I ….. can not say that I have, my prince.”

“If you ever are, you might feel differently.”

“No! No matter what dangers I must face to keep them from you, I will. Your life is more important than mine. And I will see to it that you live a long healthy life, my prince.”

Aemond pulls his hand away, but not before squeezing the fingers of Ellion’s hand.

“Let us speak on it no longer. I do not wish for our evening to be filled with such despairing thoughts. That is for only me, not you. Tell me again the tale of how you took down five boars in the woods all on your own with only a knife?”

———————————— A couple weeks later, and things were really starting to look up in Aemond’s opinion. The castle still whispered. He still heard insults levied his way about his looks and demeanor. But that couldn’t hurt him now. Not now when he had finally found someone who didn’t see the scar, didn’t see his position or name.

He finally had a friend, something he had wished for since he was a young child. And something he had been cruelly denied. Aemond had never forgiven Aegon for including their nephews Lucerys and Jacerys in his bullying and pranks. When Aemond was younger, he had thought that he might get along with them. But quickly enough that hope was dismantled as they laughed and made jokes at his expense.

He knew that they were but children, and it was easy to influence them in one way or another. But even now, he could not find it in himself to forgive them. Childish? Perhaps. But Aemond’s childhood had been a lonely one. And that had grown into a lonely and angry adulthood. And he had thought he would remain that way for the rest of his life. But he had a friendship now. And perhaps something more... ————————————————————

“Prince Aemond! Have you finished your training for the day?” Ser Ellion calls out from his position against the wall of the training yard, watching over the young prince.

“Obviously.” He says snarkily, though a hint of a smile shows upon his lips. “Why?”

“Where to next, my prince?” Ser Ellion queries, almost skipping up to where Aemond was re-organizing the weapon table in the training yard.

“I will take a walk in the Godswood. There is still time before I must report to dinner.”

“Report? You almost make it sound like a war council session.”

“That is because it is. The dining hall is a battlefield Ser Ellion.”

“I see.”

The two retreat from the training yard. Knights, lords and squires bowing their head to the prince as he goes. And Ser Ellion following but a couple steps behind. When they reach the Godswood, Aemond seems content to keep quiet, hands stiffly clasped behind his back and eye focused on the path in front of him.

Surprisingly enough, Ser Ellion keeps his silence too, only watching as Aemond makes his way through till he reaches the weirwood tree. He settles himself down in front of it before curling up against it’s roots.

“My Prince?” Ser Ellion asks cautiously, unsure of what Aemond was planning.

“I just wish for some rest. I will not be long and you do not need to stay here with me.”

“No! I will stay. I will guard your rest, my Prince.”

“Thank you.” Aemond whispers.

And true to his word, Ser Ellion keeps watch from a respectful distance over the young prince until he begins to stir and sits up again. The sun was still in the sky, but it was beginning to darken and the rays no longer warmed Aemond’s skin.

“What time is it?”

“Late enough that you should probably return to your chambers if you want to avoid showing up to the dining hall looking like an urchin.”

“You can not say that about me!” Aemond pouts at him.

“I am joking, Prince Aemond. You look perfectly presentable as always.”

Aemond looks from Ser Ellion’s kind grin to his hand, where the knight was clutching a bouquet of purple flowers. When the knight notices him staring, he holds out the bouquet to him.

“What are these?”

“Flowers, my prince.”

“Obviously. What do you have them for?”

“I…well. I may have spent some of the time you were resting picking them. For you.” He holds the bouquet closer to Aemond in hopes that he will take them. And he does. Aemond takes them into his hands and a true smiles makes its way onto his lips.

“For me?”

“Aye. They compliment the color of your eye, my prince.”

Aemond blushes at the compliment and looks down at the flowers. Nobody had ever picked flowers for him before. It was the kindest gesture he had ever had performed for him. Although, friends do not just give each other flowers, do they?

“What are your intentions, Ser Ellion?” He asks in a serious tone.

“Intentions, my prince?” The knight tilts his head in confusion.

“Aye, what do mean by giving me these flowers?”

It was not just the flowers that he wondered about. It was the soft touches the knight gave him, the hand holding his in the later hours of the evening, Ser Ellion brushing his hair for him, and the seemingly private smiles that were reserved for the prince.

“I suppose, whatever you wish it to mean.” The knight responds.

What was that supposed to mean? Does he perhaps see this as more than a simple friendship too? Could he have more than friendship in mind? Does he like me as I have come to adore him? Though his heart and mind have now been thrown into turmoil, Aemond does not let it show. He only nods and says:

“The hour is late. You were right. I must make myself more presentable before dinner.” ——————————————————————————

Looking at his reflection now, Aemond could almost call himself beautiful. Earlier this evening, he had bathed in a warm bath mixed with scented oils of sandalwood and patchouli. Long moments were spent in that bath, cleansing every part of him by candlelight until he had scrubbed any imaginary speck of dirt off his skin and out of his hair.

And once the servants had gotten rid of the bathwater, he had sat down at his dressing table and combed through his hair with the shell comb Helaena had gifted to him on his prior name day. In a rare, sentimental moment, he allowed himself to think of different hands, ones large and warm, doing this instead. Just as they had but a couple weeks prior.

Continuing his ministrations, he smooths his hair out until it is dry, lying in a silken expanse over his back. He does not braid the entirety of it, only taking a couple small sections from his temple and pulling them back in a small braid. The rest he leaves as is.

He said my hair reminded him of Visenya Targaryen, sister-wife of Aegon I. Although whether I should see that as a compliment or an insult is unknown. He jokes to himself.

After donning his eyepatch, he had begun to dress himself. First in his usual black trousers and boots. Then, he pulled out a billowy tunic made of what he thought might be organza. His mother would know better than him. When first gifted the shirt by his mother, he had been offended. The large billowy sleeves and fabric were not good matches for the training yard. But now, as he smoothed it down his chest, and he caught sight of how the fabric’s colors switched between black and purple in the different light, he smiled. It was as ostentatious as they come. But Ser Ellion had said he looked good in purple. On top of the tunic, he added his black leather vest. If he was going to look ridiculous, at least he should have some part of himself being shown.

He is still admiring his reflection in the mirror when a knock sounds at his door.

“Come in!” He says pleasantly.

The door is pushed open in a careful manner and Aemond is greeted with the sight of a smiling Ser Ellion, dressed in his normal uniform, breastplate buffed till it shone brightly.

“My prince.” The knight bows deeply to him.

“Have you come to escort me to the feast?” Aemond finishes buckling the last buckle of his boots.

“Aye, can’t make you late to your own name day celebration!”

“It is not that important. ’Tis only another feast Ser Ellion.”

“But on the contrary my prince, tis a splendid occasion. Twenty-one years on this earth. That should be celebrated!”

“Oh quiet. It is just another year.”

“If you say so, my prince. But I would not want to make you late even so. But first, if I may have a moment?”

Aemond tilts his head in confusion and nods. “Aye?”

Ser Ellion pulls his right hand from behind his back where it had been resting this whole time. In between his thumb and forefinger he holds a single pink rhododendron.

“Another flower, Ser Ellion?” He asks in elated surprise.

“Yes. A gift for the prince’s twenty-first name day. Will you accept my gift, Prince Aemond?” The knight looks slightly nervous, shifting back and forth on his toes. “I can only apologize that it is nothing more extravagant.”

Aemond does not leave him hanging for long, nodding eagerly.

“Of course!”

Ser Ellion grins even brighter then, placing a hand on his shoulder and stroking over the fabric covering his collar bone. Aemond’s blush darkens and he ducks his head in embarrassment.

“Turn around, my prince. This will look lovely in your hair.”

Aemond allows Ser Ellion to turn him so his back is facing the knight. And he can feel when he tucks the pink flower into his braid.

“There. You look perfect now, my prince. I am honored to serve such a strong and beautiful prince as you.”

Aemond whirls around to find the knight on his knee, head bowed. The memory of a similar sight causing warmth to spread through him. He takes hold of the knights’s arm and tugs.

“Stand, Ser Ellion. Your loyalty is much appreciated. But I can not…..” He stops, biting the inside of his cheek to stop himself from finishing the sentence.

“Can not?” The knight urges once he is standing.

But instead of finishing what he is about to say, Aemond leans forward and presses quick kiss to the knight’s lips before he can lose his nerve. Ser Ellion, to his credit, hides his surprise with a kind smile.

“My prince?”

Aemond steps away shyly, head bowed to hide his embarrassed expression. Had he really done that? Kissed his guard? He brings a trembling finger up to his own lips and smiles. He had. And he did not regret it one bit.

“My prince?” Ser Ellion asks again into the silence, concern coloring his words.

Aemond shakes himself out of his stupor and grins up at the knight.

“Thank you, Ser Ellion. For the gift. And for….nevermind. Let us go.”

The knight bows as per usual, but as they retreat into the hall, the knight rests his hand on his lower back, guiding him towards the great hall where the celebrations were taking place. Aemond keeps looking back at the knight every so often, smiling happily up at him. The knight in return pulls him closer with a fond smile. The knight only pulls away when they reach the doors to the great hall. The doors open for him and a servant announces his presence.

“Presenting, Prince Aemond Targaryen.”

The chatter in the hall stops as he steps forward. Most of the lords and ladies look at him awkwardly, bowing as he passes through the crowd. Maybe it was his scar as usual. Or maybe it was his unusual choice of clothing or even the pink flower stuck in his hair. But what he didn’t realize was that he was smiling so brightly and happily, that it took everyone several moments to realize that it was actually their prince standing before them.

And when he makes his way up to the high table to take his seat, Aegon stares at him like he’d grown a second head.

“What happened to you?”

“What do you mean, brother?”

“You look like someone gave you a puppy.” The older man snorts.

“Not quite.”

“Well are you going to tell us why you look maniacal?” His brother implores.

“Aegon!” Alicent chides from his other side.

“No. I don’t think I will.”

Aegon turns away and grumbles in his seat, taking a long sip of his wine. Aemond looks over to the wall where Ser Ellion had stationed himself and he smiles at him. The knight nods and smiles back.

A hand reaches under the table to take his hand and when he turns to look at Helaena, he thinks he almost sees tears in her eyes.

“Helaena?” He whispers.

“You can’t, brother. You can’t. Sorrow and danger will sleep in your bed. You can’t.” At his sister’s distress, his smile turns down into a frown and he squeezes her hand to comfort her.

“Helaena? What do you mean?”

But Helaena says no more. She only slips her hand from his and looks blankly at the food in front of her. Aemond wishes he could comfort her, but he knew it would do neither of them any good with the state she was in. So instead he just focuses on the celebrations. The feast was extravagant, and he allowed himself to indulge in the rich sweet meats and pies at the end of the feast. And if he had more than one glass of wine? Well, Aegon didn’t have to know.

There was music and dancing, though he refrained from partaking in that part of the celebration, only watching from his seat at the high table as the courtiers reveled and got drunk. And finally when it was over, Aegon made a drunken, half-assed speech about him. But it was truly hard to understand what the King was talking about, given he had already indulged in several pitchers of wine. Either way, the courtiers clapped and cheered at the end. The courtiers and his family slowly began to file out of the feast hall and he is barely out of the room himself when Ser Ellion steps up beside him to escort him back to the room.

As they walk, the knight keeps a respectful distance between them, due to the crowds of courtiers and servants now filing down the hallways.

“Was your name-day celebration adequate, my prince?” The knight asks to fill the silence.

“Hmmm. I suppose so. But I am glad it is over and done with. The elaborate feasts are just a farce. Another battlefield to survive.”

“Well. Perhaps now you can sleep and get some rest from the fight.” The knight says once they’ve reached Aemond’s chambers.

The prince opens the door and steps in. But after a moment he turns back around with an unidentifiable expression on his face. A mixture of hope, happiness and nerves. He looks left and right down the hall before leaning up and pressing a kiss to the knight’s lips again. But this time, the man responds in kind, one gloved hand sliding up to rest on Aemond’s scarred cheek. The other reaching out to rest on his waist. The prince rests his arms on the knight’s arms to ground himself before pulling away.

“Will you….will you spend the night with me?” He asks nervously.

The knight’s eyes widen, but his arms wrap tightly around the prince and pulls him into his chest.

“Whatever you desire, my prince, is yours.”

[justagirlsearchingforamuse]

I am confused whom to ship him with tbh. Like his dynamics doesn't sit right with his surrounding male characters. I m not an incest fan but I have read some daemon x aemond fic. They were good I guess. There were some lucerys fic too but that made me very uncomfortable .i can't ship his odd ass with a child.So, in conclusion I am thinking about an OMC.what do you think, whom would he fit more perfectly ? Any idea??

I am not an incest fan but this series has plenty of it and it's kind of like everyone's related in some way lmao. But I see Aemond as being 17 or 18 at the oldest, Aegon is clearly in his early twenties, and Helaena is probably 18 or at least a year or two older than Aemond. I am comfortable with doing a reader or original character and maybe Daemon or Jace. Even though I feel like Daemon is probably too old for Aemond because Aemond is still a teenager, Daemon I assume is at least in his 30s or something. I most of time prefer to think of their relationship as a young person having a big crush on an older person but it simply being a crush. I honestly think it depends on what you want or are going for, with Jace there could be this enemies-to-lovers thing going on that a lot of people enjoy. I think Jace and or OMC/Reader would be your best options.

[olivefeuillu]

I need more omc x aemond!! Fics..omggg...ur little one shots are so good. Gotta need someone who can pick him up in a bridal style.

I also have a assassin! OMC who comes to murder aemond but someone they fall in love and elope together in the mountains where aemond becomes a farmer and marries him and tries his best to get adapted to a civilian life.

Oh my god thank you 😭😭😭 it’s the first time ever I post things on here (and I was kinda scared because it’s not my first language) so you just motivated me A LOT to keep going.

No but seriously. The ideas you have are so good. The first one, I love it. The second one got me giggling and kicking my feet🤭

If you want I’ll work on them ! :D

[with-blood-and-fire]

Fic: Even Monsters Need a Gentle Touch Chapter 1

😊I have had the pleasure of only just being dragged onto the bottom!Aemond train. And I will not be getting off anytime soon. ❤You can pull bottom!Aemond from my cold dead hands. I am so excited to start writing fics for HotD. I hope you guys enjoy the first couple chapters of this one. It's gonna be a long-un.😀

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Title: Even Monsters Need a Gentle Touch

Summary:

Aemond is used to people steering away from him, avoiding eye contact and whispering about him behind his back. He pretends not to notice and not to care. But in truth, his heart aches at the thought that no one can love him with the scar on his face.

Luckily, someone comes along who will fix everything. Someone who will love him despite his scar. At least so Aemond thinks. Things go downhill and after a traumatic event, Alicent sends Aemond to negotiate with Rhaenyra at Dragonstone.

Unfortunately, Aemond is taken prisoner almost immediately by the Princess and her husband and is forced to reside in the castle with them. Thought it is a tough start to his new life, eventually Aemond finds that love and care is not so hard to come across after all.

Chapter: 1

Pairing: Endgame Aemond/Jacaerys, but starts out Aemond/OMC

Rating: Will eventually be NC-17, but starts out relatively tame

Warning: None for this first chapter, but I've linked the Ao3 story link so you can all view the story tags for what there will eventually be.

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43665726/chapters/109800333

Monster. One-eyed beast. The disgraced and disfigured second son.

Aemond was not oblivious to the names he had been given. They echoed throughout the keep on a daily basis. He heard them whether he wanted to or not. He knew. Even if the ones who spoke the words attempted to keep their whispers quiet.

And it was not as if he could blame them, no matter how much each name made his heart squeeze painfully or raised his ire. But he would not give anyone the satisfaction of seeing him upset or angered. He was better than that. He would not let them know that he too, in the darkest of nights, thought the same of himself.

But no. He was the son of the late King Viserys. He was a prince and he conducted himself as such. As opposed to his older brother’s drunken and vile attitude and persona, he held himself as one of the Targaryen bloodline should. He was stern and imposing. But calm and kind when necessary, all the same.

The names meant nothing if he did not react to them. The servant’s fear meant nothing if he pretended he didn’t know why they wouldn’t look at his face when they spoke to him. He was a fierce soldier and a scholar. He would not react.

Lost in his thoughts, he begins to descend the grand staircase of the keep, this day too ignoring the cautious looks and the words that were murmured as he passed.

The slow and rhythmic clack, clack of his leather boots upon stone echo through the halls of the Red Keep. The sound was not an unusual one at this time of day. In fact the sound often heralded the moment Aemond and Ser Criston Cole left for the training yard, in preparation to spend several hours with sword and mace.

He reached the bottom of the stairs noting Ser Criston waiting for him there. The only greeting he gives is a nod, lips pursed in his perpetual frown.

“My prince.” Ser Criston bows to him, making him roll his one eye.

When Ser Criston returns to his standing position, Aemond audibly sighs. Now a man of twenty and one, he was tall and strong. Though Criston Cole still stood several fingers above him. Unlike Aegon, who had grown to be a short but broad man, Aemond had grown tall and willowy. He was lithe and graceful, with sinewy muscles hidden under his pale skin. Like his sister, he had left his hair long, trailing down his back in straight strands. His features they compared to his sister or his mother. Some had even called him pretty. Before he had lost his eye of course. After that the only mention of his features or characteristics were how strong he was, or how smart. Nothing about his looks, unless it was behind his back.

“My prince?”

Aemond snaps his one eye to the knight who was looking at him with concern.

“Yes?”

“I asked if you were ready?”

“Forgive me Ser Criston. My mind was….elsewhere.” He mutters.

The knight raises an eyebrow and his concerned gaze lingers.

“Are you well, my prince?”

“Fine.” Aemond grumbles as he begins to stalk towards the doors of the keep.

“If you insist.” Ser Criston says, though it is obvious he is not convinced.

Once in the training yard, knight and prince find a corner to themselves. Around them, squires and knights practiced skills of defense and offense, but all came to a halt when Ser Criston and Aemond took their place and prepared to fight.

Ser Criston is the first to attack, swinging his mace in a high arc over his head, aiming for Aemond’s left shoulder. Aemond is quick though, his lithe body making it easy to dodge the attack. In response, Aemond’s sword swings low, aiming for Ser Criston’s knees. Even with the mace, the knight is quick and steps back just in time.

“That was a close one, my prince. Again!”

Their dance continues for many hours, neither giving in or gaining the upper hand. The whole yard continues to watch in awe at the skill displayed by the two. The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard and the Targaryen prince. Both had proven time and time again their skill. But Ser Criston still demanded Aemond ‘train’ each day.

Towards the end of their dance, Aemond catches sight of his mother staring solelmnly at him from the doorway into the castle.

Alicent wore black still, in mourning for his late father. Aegon had already been crowned King months ago, but still his mother mourned. It was bordering on ridiculous, if you asked him. Father was gone. And what of it? It is not as if the late King truly had any love to spare for Aemond’s lady mother. He had no love to spare any of them. It had all been used up by Rhaenyra and her brood.

It does not matter. I did not need his love. Nor do I now He tries to convince himself as he had many times before.

Aemond was jealous of Alicent. At least at times it had seemed as if Viserys cared for her. He was not jealous of their relationship, gods no. He would never want a relationship with no love. But if only someone would look at him as if he was anything other than a prince or monster. If only they cared enough to at least smile at him.

His thoughts, though upsetting and angered, give him the energy to fight harder, sending his sword swinging this way and that, forcing Ser Criston back till he hits the stone wall of the yard, Aemond’s sword at his neck.

“Aemond!” Alicent’s voice rings out across the training yard.

With a weary sigh and a roll of his one eye, Aemond steps back and re-sheathes his sword.

“You fought well my prince.” Ser Criston recovers and leaves his position at the wall.

“Hmmm.” Aemond hums, avoiding eye contact with Ser Criston and his mother as she approached.

“Ser Criston. You are dismissed.” Alicent nods at Ser Criston. With a flourished bow, the knight retreats, taking his mace with him.

“Mother.” Aemond nods, still refusing to look her in the eye.

“My son. I see your training is going well. Was it necessary to be so aggressive towards Ser Criston?”

“You are the one who wishes me to continue my training. This isn’t a child’s playpen. We fight here mother. I am not a babe.”

Alicent sighs, but does not press further. She must know it would be a losing battle. Instead, she steps aside and motions someone forward. A young man, perhaps one not much older than Aemond himself steps forward and bows before him. The man is dressed in the garb of a knight, in the armor of one of the kingsguard. When he stands again, Aemond takes in his features. He is tall, taller than him. And he had curly blonde hair that fell to his shoulders. A kind smile was on his tanned face and he was looking Aemond directly in his eye, something few dared to do.

“Aemond, my son. May I introduce you to Ser Ellion Lannister. The nephew of our very own Tyland Lannister.”

“My prince. It is a pleasure to meet you.” The knight bows again and his smile widens when he stands once more.

“A pleasure indeed.” Aemond responds automatically as his mother glares, ensuring nothing less than politeness from him.

“Aemond, Ser Ellion is a new knight of the Kingsguard. He will be protecting you from now on.”

Aemond snorts at that, terrifying smirk appearing on his face.

“Protecting me? What is it you mean?”

“Ser Ellion is tasked with protecting you personally, following you to ensure your safety.”

“Following me?” Aemond huffs out an amused laughs. “You must be joking.”

“I am not, my son. I am completely serious.”

“Tell me mother, why would I need such a thing? If I can protect myself easily enough, how is a guard going to help me?”

Aemond was right. He had to be. How could a knight he could break with his pinky finger serve as any use to him? He was a prince, a knight in his own right.

“It is necessary. Tensions grow higher each passing day in the council room. Your step sister is planning something. I am sure of it. I will not leave my son unguarded in case something happens.”

“I can protect myself.” Aemond protests.

“Then having Ser Ellion around will be all the better. You will have double the strength and protection.”

“No.”

“Yes.” Alicent glares at him. “You will listen and you will obey. This is for your own good. Now if you two will excuse me, I will be taking my lunch with Healeana.”

Alicent gives Aemond no time to protest again before turning heel and retreating from the training yard. He watches her go with narrow eye. He was a grown man. More than capable of carrying his own sword and protecting himself against any attacks from enemies. How could she not see it? Aemond is still glowering and ruminating in his angry thoughts when a kind voice cuts in.

“Prince Aemond?”

Aemond swivels to face Ser Ellion. The disarming smile upon the knight’s face only gives him pause for a second before he crosses his arms and looks up at the knight with his one eye.

“I care not for what my mother has said. I do not need you here. And I certainly do not need your protection. I am fine on my own.” He does his best to glare at the knight, but the man does not wither, only keeping the ridiculous smile upon his lips.

“I understand, my prince. But I am to follow the Queen mother’s word.”

“Whatever. I am going back to my chambers, alone.”

“I will escort you there!” The knight exclaims, dipping his head as the prince stalks past.

“Do not follow me.”

Ser Ellion does not listen and follows behind Aemond at a respectful distance, though he struggles to keep up with the quick strides of the prince.

Aemond seethes as he returns to the Red Keep, striding up the stairs two at a time. His anger must have been palpable, as servants, lords and ladies all alike cower and part like the sea as he all but runs up the staircase. Try as he might to lose him, the knight follows still, only just keeping up with him.

When Aemond finally reaches the door of his chamber, he turns to stare daggers at the knight, who stood there innocently with his perfect blonde hair and kind smile.

“Leave me! I do not wish to see your face again.” Aemond exclaims, shutting the door in the knight’s face.

“My prince.” Is all he hears from the other side before quiet footsteps fade from hearing.

Aemond shouts in anger before stalking over to the table in the middle of his chambers and seting his sword down upon it. He strides over to his dresser then and chances a glance up at the mirror on top. The leather eye patch stood out against his pale skin. With a violent surge of anger, he rips the thing off, staring at his sapphire eye and the terrible scar crossing it. The skin around his eyelid and undereye was cracked and red, making the feature even more horrifying to look at. He would need to get more moisturizing oil from the maester before the end of the day.

Fuck mother. Fuck father. Fuck Aegon and fuck Ser Ellion. He kicks the leg of the table in anger, wincing as pain shoots up from his toes. Why could no one just leave him be?

A quiet knock on his chamber door, interrupts his angered thoughts and he stalks to the door to rip it open. On the other side stands Helaena, a sad smile upon her face.

“Helaena….” He whispers.

“The laughter is poison.”

Aemond sighs, giving his dear sister a smile and inviting her in. He would ask about the cryptic sentence later. But first he’d much rather read in comfortable silence with her there. It was only her presence that calmed him. She was the only one he wished to spend time with these days. If only she wouldn’t scare him with her cryptic prophesies.

[with-blood-and-fire]

Fic: Even Monsters Need a Gentle Touch Chapter 4

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Title: Even Monsters Need a Gentle Touch

Chapter: 4

Summary:

Aemond is used to people steering away from him, avoiding eye contact and whispering about him behind his back. He pretends not to notice and not to care. But in truth, his heart aches at the thought that no one can love him with the scar on his face.

Luckily, someone comes along who will fix everything. Someone who will love him despite his scar. At least so Aemond thinks. Things go downhill and after a traumatic event, Alicent sends Aemond to negotiate with Rhaenyra at Dragonstone.

Unfortunately, Aemond is taken prisoner almost immediately by the Princess and her husband and is forced to reside in the castle with them. Thought it is a tough start to his new life, eventually Aemond finds that love and care is not so hard to come across after all.

Pairing: Endgame Aemond/Jacaerys, but starts out Aemond/OMC

Rating: Will eventually be NC-17, but starts out relatively tame

Warning: A little bit of emotional/physical abuse

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43665726/chapters/109800333

The following morning after his short escape upon Vhagar, Aemond is all but ripped out of his slumber by the sound of his chamber door slamming open, the wood crashing loudly upon the stone wall behind it. Groaning in annoyance, he pulls the warm covers over his head. It was much too early for anyone to be bothering him when he should still be resting.

It must be Aegon. The fool did not get to finish insulting me at luncheon. Perhaps he is back to finish the job.

“If you have come here to make rude comments to me again, Aegon, I will cut out your tongue.” He threatens without turning to look at the intruder.

“You should not speak to your brother that way!” A high-pitched, feminine voice rings out.

Ah. Mother. Aemond turns over and pulls the covers down just enough so he can look at Alicent. The woman is standing there with her hands on her hips and a scowl on her face.

“Mother.” He greets politely.

“What were you thinking?!” She snaps, causing one of Aemond’s eyebrows to raise up in question.

“What do you mean?” He pushes himself into a sitting position with a groan. He had been out on Vhagar for several hours. He had pushed her hard, and in turn his body now protested with each movement.

“You know exactly what I mean, Aemond. Do you happen to have a death wish?”

“Mother, I still do not understand. If you could please enlighten me on why you seem to think I have a death wish?” Aemond rubs a hand over his eye, trying to rid himself of the sleep still clouding his eye and mind.

“You went out on that beast of a dragon!” Alicent cries out as she grips the fabric of her emerald green dress tightly.

“I did. Vhagar is my dragon and I needed respite from….” He pauses. “Everything.”

“Aemond, my son. The dangers greatly outweigh any reason you might have had to leave the keep yesterday..” The woman frets, picking at her nail beds, mouth turned down in a saddened frown.

“Dangers? Mother, I have been flying Vhagar for ten years now. How is it dangerous only now?”

“No! It is not that. I have learned to live through the fear every time one of my children gets on one of those horrid beasts. It is your step-sister I am talking about.”

Ah, of course she was. The Hightowers were convinced that Rhaenyra was planning an attack on them. That she, her brood and their dragons would be flying to King’s Landing to burn the lot of them at any moment. Ravens had flown to and from King’s Landing and Dragonstone endlessly for months, ever since the Hightowers had placed Aegon on the throne.

“Rhaenyra and her family are at Dragonstone.”

“But they could fly out with their dragons any day now. They could have found you alone, hurt you! They could attack and kill you at any moment. And all you care about is a silly dragon ride!”

“Mother, peace. The princess has only made threats through pen and ink. If she plans on starting this war, then we will know when she does.”

“Aemond, please. I know that if she had the chance, she would rip you and your siblings from my clutches. She would make me watch as she destroyed you. As she burns you.” Alicent gracefully takes a seat at the edge of his bed and takes one of his larger hands in hers. Aemond can see the unshed tears in her eyes.

“I don’t thinks she is like that, mother. She would not kill family.” He tries to comfort the woman, although he is not so convinced himself.

“She would have Aegon taken from the throne!”

“Aegon never wanted the throne.” Aemond sighs wearily. This was a conversation that had been repeated over and over throughout his life and he was truly tiring of the debate.

“It is his birthright! And he sits on the throne now as is his duty.”

“Technically it is Rhaenyra’s birthright.” He mutters under his breath.

Suddenly, there is a sharp pain in his cheek, right under where his scar ended. He gasps at the painful feeling, the skin of his empty eye twitching. He does not realize immediately what has happened. It is only when he looks back to Alicent does he understand that she has hit him, her hand still wavering in the air and anger in her eyes.

“Mother?” He whispers.

The woman, though sometimes stern and angered, had never once hit him. She had slapped Aegon many times, always when he would come back from the streets of silk reeking of alcohol and whores. But never had she laid a hand on her second son, the perfect obedient child.

“Do not speak such treason to me! Aegon is King. At least your older brother is doing his duty to his family! While you pretend you are not a part of it and hide away from all duties.” She scolds him.

“You want me to do my duty?” He whispers, eye downcast.

“Aye. You must support your family.”

“And what family is that?” He mutters. “The one who cares only for power and wealth? The one who would put having their blood on the throne over loving their children?” His voice rises in intensity as he continues on. “We are no family, mother. We are just pieces on grandfather’s chess board. Just pawns in his and your game. Why must I do my duty to this so called ‘family’ when they have not done their duty to me?!” But the end of his speech he is shouting and Alicent visibly deflates next to him.

“I just want what is best for you Aemond.”

“Do not feed me those lies. Neither you or grandfather actually care. You never have.” He spits and pulls his hand away from her.

“Of course we do!”

“Then tell me. What is it that you think will be best for me?”

“Family, happiness, peace. You out of everyone in this castle deserves that.” Alicent gently rests a palm on Aemond’s cheek. But when he flinches away, she removes it and sighs.

“How do you plan on finding these things for me? All proposals for betrothal you have sent out have been rejected. Not that it should surprise you.” He says bitterly.

“Someone will accept eventually. The ladies of the realm should be happy to marry such an impressive and important man.”

“You know why they will not.”

Who would want the ugly, cold hearted cunt of a prince with nothing but his name?

Alicent takes his hand in hers again, this time holding tight enough for his hand to bruise. “Perhaps Lord Hornwood will accept. He is hoping for a good match for his daughter.”

“If he accepts, he is a fool.” He spits.

“Aemond, I know this is not what you want, but you must do your duty to your family. Strengthen our ties, marry someone of good breeding. And maybe you will come to find love and peace along the way. As I did.”

“You are no more at peace than a bird imprisoned in a gilded cage. I would rather throw myself off the walls of the keep than have such a fate forced upon me. I do not wish to marry and be stuck with a woman I have never met. I could not love her.”

“Aemond!” Alicent cries, her nails starting to dig into his flesh. But he does not respond. He only turns his head from her and stares at the stone floor. The Queen mother stands then, releasing him and turning away. She too was done with this conversation.

“Ser Ellion will accompany you everywhere now. Whether you like it or not. You will not be allowed at the dragon pit anytime in the foreseeable future. Not until this danger passes.”

With that, she retreats from the room, slippered feet stomping down the hallway. Aemond finally looks up when he is certain he is alone. With leaden limbs, he swings his legs over the edge of the bed and rests his forehead in his hands. He hisses as the palm of his hand makes contact with his skin. Alicent’s nails had dug deep enough to break skin and draw blood. It is only then that he allows tears to fall from his one good eye.

She is different now. Aemond muses. She used to be kinder, even if only a little. Mother never would have dreamed of commanding us so before. She would not force us to live lives we would not be happy with. He sighs. Her mind has been poisoned by grandfather and the rest of those council snakes.

His head is still laid in his hands when another voice rings out in the silence of his chamber.

“My prince?”

“Go away.” He orders. But Ser Ellion chooses to not listen to him, as usual.

“My prince. I could not help but overhear….are you alright?” The knight asks kindly, voice more quiet than usual, and comforting in tone.

“You were spying on me?” Aemond growls, wiping the tears that had been crawling down his cheek away.

“No, my prince.”

Though Aemond has not yet lifted his head, he can hear the knight approaching and kneeling before him, the armor and sword at his side clanking as he does so.

“Then why were you listening to our conversation? I could have your head for that.” Though that normally would have come out as a ferocious threat, it was half-hearted at best this time.

“I did not mean to, Prince Aemond. But the Queen mother ordered me to guard the door….which she then left open. It was no difficulty hearing everything that was happening.”

Aemond sighs and lifts his head from his hands to stare at the knight. Ser Ellion was on one knee, head bowed in respect and hand over his heart.

“Then have you come to scold me for my hazardous actions too?” Aemond snipes.

“Never!”

“Then leave me. If mother insists on keeping me prisoner, then so be it. I will not leave my chamber today.”

Ser Ellion stands then, head raising to look at him as he speaks.

“If that is your wish, my prince. Then I will leave you al….” He stops eyes wide and staring at Aemond’s hand. “You are injured!” The knight rushes forward with a look of horror.

“It is of no consequence.” Aemond moves to hide the injured hand behind him.

“You are bleeding, Prince Aemond! You must have this seen to.” A gloved hand reaches down to take his wrist in a gentle grip. And Aemond, too stunned at the action, just stares wide eyed at him. “I will call a maester!”

“If you call a maester, I will cut you through with your own sword.” Aemond threatens. “Tis a simple cut, nothing more.” He tugs at his wrist to free it, but the knight is strong and keeps a firm, but gentle hold upon him.

“What happened, my prince? Who is it that hurt you? Tell me but the name and I will make sure they face the blade of justice.”

“It was no one, Ser Ellion. Let me go.”

Ser Ellion looks into his eye, concern written all over those kind eyes and calming smile. Aemond’s heart stutters when the thumb of the hand holding his wrist begins to caress softly over his wrist.

“If you insist. But please, you must get the wound taken care of.” Ser Ellion cups the back of Aemond’s hand in his other, turning the palm upwards so that he can more easily see the damage.

“I already told you. I do not wish for a maester to see me.”

“I will not call one. But may I help you my prince? If it pleases you of course.”

“You wish to tend to my wound?” Aemond’s eye widens in surprise, and he stares at Ellion, looking for any hint of deception.

“Aye, it would be my honor. I have promised to protect you and keep you from harm. But I have failed in that. To make up for this, please let me cleanse and wrap the wound for you. And if you wish for me to leave then, I will.”

All Aemond finds in the knights eyes are worry, concern and kindness. And though the knight was infuriating and annoying at best, he was also honest and kind. And the soft touches he was bestowing upon Aemond made his resolve crack.

“Fine. Yes. You may.”

Ser Ellion guides him over to the carved chair at his dressing table and gently pushes him into it with a hand on his shoulder. It is only then that Aemond realizes he is still bare from the waist up. The touch of Ellion’s hand upon his bare skin makes him shiver and belatedly he curls up, wrapping his armors around himself to cover his scarred and bruised flesh. His days training had not left him unblemished like his brother and sister.

“You need not hide from me my prince. I am not here to judge you.” Ellion speaks softly as he takes a clean cloth from a pocket in his armor and dips it in the water bowl placed on the table.

“May I take your hand?”

Aemond unfolds himself, hand held out again for the other man. Ser Ellion takes it in his gentle fingers and begins to wash off any blood that had begun to dry upon his skin. Aemond observes the man as he works. The golden and curled ringlets of his hair fall in front of his handsome face, and a kind smile rests upon his lips as he focuses on the work.

Just days ago, Aemond would have gutted the man for touching him, but now the knight kneels before him with his hand in his. And Aemond can’t even think about wanting to complain about it. This young knight had gone out of his way to apologize for any real or imagined hurt he had bestowed upon his prince. And he was kind. And gentle. Something that was sorely missing from the Red Keep in recent years. And he had also left Aemond the book.

“The book of Valyrian poems. You were the one who left that for me.”

“Aye. I am sorry for entering your chambers without your permission. That was rude of me.”

“No. That is not…. Why did you do it?”

“That morning in the library, you seemed invested in the pages of the book. It looked like you were enjoying it. I thought it might serve as a peace offering.”

“A peace offering?”

“I know you do not want me here, my prince. And I would never wish to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. But I believe th two of us have gotten off on the wrong foot from the start. I just wished to tell you that I would like to perhaps start over. And if that is not your wish, that is alright. But I would like for us to get to know each other better. If I am to keep guard over you.”

“I….”

“If you wish for us to ignore each other and not speak then that is alright too.”

“And…and if I wish for us to start over as well?” Aemond whispers, cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

“Then I am glad, my prince.”

It is surprising Aemond thinks. I have done nothing but insult and this man. I have called him terrible things, done my best to push him away and keep him from my sight. And through all the terrible things I’ve done, he still kneels before me with grace and honor and offers me safety and protection. With that, Aemond makes up his mind.

“I…would also like to apologize.”

“You? But you have done nothing wrong.”

“I have. I am not a kind person, Ser Ellion.” Aemond bows his head in shame. “I am cold, angry and fiercely independent. But that does not give me the right to speak to you as I have. You have been nothing but kind and I have done everything in my power to tear you down.”

“You are a prince. That is your right.”

“But it should not be. Regardless of station, I have acted terribly and I am ashamed. Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?”

“You do not have to ask, Prince Aemond. You were forgiven the moment I set eyes upon you. How could I not, with one as beautiful as you standing there.”

“I…..” Aemond’s cheeks burn even more brightly now with a blush.

“There. All better.” Ser Ellion pats the now wrapped hand and sets it down upon Aemond’s knee. “Your hand will be good as new in a couple days.”

“Thank you, Ser Ellion. For helping me.” Aemond turns to the mirror and sighs at his reflection that stares back. His one good eye was red and swollen, and the skin of his scar and empty eye socket was dry and irritated. His hair had seen better days, tangled and sticking this way and that. He reaches for the comb on the table , but a warm hand on his arm stops him.

“May I?”

“You wish to comb my hair?”

“Unless you would rather me leave now that your hand is taken care of.” Ser Ellion steps back with a bow.

“No!” Aemond protests. “I mean, you may.”

Ellion takes the comb from Aemond and combs his hair in silence. He brushes it straight till it hangs in perfect, sleek strands down his back.

“Did you know my younger brother is a squire here at the keep?” The knight asks as he sets the comb down and smiles at Aemond through the mirror.

Aemond shakes his head.

“My uncle Tyland Lannister has taken him on as a squire. Caeran, my brother, is only 8 years of age. But already wants to follow in my footsteps. He wants to be a great warrior.” Ser Ellion seems to smile fondly at the thought of his brother.

“He enjoys the sword?”

“Aye, he says he wants to be like me when he is a man grown..”

“And is he?”

“Hmmm. I think he is more like you.”

“In what way.” Aemond raises an eyebrow curiously.

“He wishes to be a great warrior. And he puts off a fierce and strong front. But his heart lies within the pages of dusty, old tomes in the library. I think he would make a better scholar.”

“I see.”

Ser Ellion caresses Aemond’s hair, causing the young man to shiver.

“You are cold, my prince. Here, come sit in front of the fire.” Ellion takes hold of his uninjured hand and guides him to the hearth where he is now pushed into one of the plush chairs.

“I will leave you now, my prince. And I will make sure that breakfast is brought up to you.”

“No!”

“What is it?” The knight asks with concern.

“Will you stay?”

“Of course.” Ser Ellion smiles warmly at him and joins him by sitting in the seat next his.

Aemond watches the knight for a moment, emotions swirling around inside him like a sea storm. This knight, in a matter of days, had managed to break down all the carefully crafted walls around his heart and soul. And looking upon it now, Aemond was glad. He was glad for the kindness, compassion, and gentle touches.

“Ser Ellion. Will you tell me about Casterly Rock?”

[with-blood-and-fire]

Fic: Even Monsters Need a Gentle Touch Chapter 3

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Title: Even Monsters Need a Gentle Touch

Summary:

Aemond is used to people steering away from him, avoiding eye contact and whispering about him behind his back. He pretends not to notice and not to care. But in truth, his heart aches at the thought that no one can love him with the scar on his face.

Luckily, someone comes along who will fix everything. Someone who will love him despite his scar. At least so Aemond thinks. Things go downhill and after a traumatic event, Alicent sends Aemond to negotiate with Rhaenyra at Dragonstone.

Unfortunately, Aemond is taken prisoner almost immediately by the Princess and her husband and is forced to reside in the castle with them. Thought it is a tough start to his new life, eventually Aemond finds that love and care is not so hard to come across after all.

Chapter: 3

Pairing: Endgame Aemond/Jacaerys, but starts out Aemond/OMC

Rating: Will eventually be NC-17, but starts out relatively tame

Warning: None

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43665726/chapters/109800333

A nightmare. This must be purely a nightmare. Aemond ponders drearily. What else could explain such absurd behavior?

At present, the young prince was trudging down a hallway of the Keep. For hours he had buried his nose in books in the library. It was his only hope of hiding away from Ser Ellion and anyone who wished to find him. And he been lucky. No one had yet to disturb him.

But they walls….they listened. They listened and they talked. Aemond was no stranger to whispers and gossip, that was certainly true. But the whispers he was used to were not so brazen or mocking. He had heard many an insult and pitying word over the years. But it seemed the whole castle was ready to make a mockery of him now. Everyone from the highest lord to the lowest servant knew what had occurred the previous day. The whispers were loud this day, and he could not tune them out. This had of course put him in a foul mood almost immediately.

Did you hear? Prince Aemond has been bested by a newly knighted young Lannister. Can you believe it?

You should have seen it! It seems the young prince is not strong after all.

And the worst one. Turns out even pretending to be a strong warrior won’t save the prince now. Ugly, quiet, and a poor warrior? No honorable lady would want him now.

The terrible walks through the castle had been accompanied by a terribly early morning. Thankfully, Aemond had escaped from his room before Ser Ellion could catch him at his door. He was thankful for that small moment of peace at least. Thankful also was he for the serving maid who had brought him his eyepatch. She had not said how she had come to possess it, but he cared not either way. Especially if it was Ser Ellion that had brought it to her. The knight would not be getting any thanks from him.

He was certainly not ready to face the irritating man. If he did come across the knight, he could not promise that he would not immediately deck him in the face. His lips turn down into his signature frown before he shakes his head to clear his thoughts. It seems all his days were miserable now. No use in dwelling on it, though.

Such is my life.

“Ah! Brother! There you are.” Aegon’s voice rings throughout the hallway.

Aemond looks up to find his brother making his way towards him bottle of wine in hand.

“Aegon.” He responds with a sigh.

“Would have thought you would be crying in your chambers! After being humiliated like that.”

Drunken fool.

“Well as you can see, I am not. So if you wouldn’t mind.” Aemond brushes past his older brother, but the man grabs his wrist in a tight hold.

“Poor little Aemond. Can’t even defend himself.” Aegon mocks.

“Shut up!”

“I’m the king. You can’t tell me to shut up.” Aegon’s grip tightens minutely.

“You may be King, but you are also my brother. And a twat at that. I will say what I like to you.” Aemond retorts, ripping his wrist from Aegon’s hand.

“Watch it, younger brother. I could have your other eye for that.”

Aemond just rolls his eyes, knowing Aegon would never have the balls to do such a thing. His words sting, a reminder of the endless whispering about his face, but Aemond has long learned by now to ignore his drunken ramblings.

“Whatever you say, your grace.” Aemond declares mockingly. “Now if you will excuse me, I have better things to do see to than being seen around the castle drunk.” Aemond side steps his brother and is just past Aegon’s shoulder when the older man grabs his wrist again.

“Not so fast, little brother. Mother has requested your presence.”

“Mother? Whatever for?” Aemond tries to pull his hand away, but Aegon’s grip does not falter.

“She seems to think we haven’t been spending enough time as a family. And has asked you to join us for a late lunch in the dining hall.”

“No.”

“She insists.”

Aegon keeps a tight hold of Aemond’s wrist, even drunk. And though Aemond would almost rather bash his head against the stone wall than spend time with his family, at least it might continue to give him a reprieve from the whispers and Ser Ellion. With that last thought, he lets Aegon drag him along, avoiding eye contact with every member of the royal household that they come across. The servants and lords bow, but he can feel their eyes crawling over him with distaste as if he were one of Helaena’s little spiders.

To his discomfort, when the two of them reach the dining hall, everyone else is already seated and waiting for them. His mother, grandfather, and sister. Daeron was still in Oldtown and would be for the foreseeable future. Aegon unceremoniously pushes Aemond into his chair next to Helaena before taking his seat at the head of the table, Alicent and Otto on the opposite side. Aemond does not move to greet any of them.

“It is nice of you to join us, Aemond.” Otto remarks, leveling a disapproving glare at his grandson.

“Yes well, as Aegon was so insistent.” Aemond retorts, glaring back at his grandfather.

“You could have at least offered to join us first.” The older man continues.

“And why ever would I do that? Because all of you are so delightful to be around?” Aemond snarks.

“Aemond!” Alicent scolds. “We are your family.”

“Unfortunately so.” Aemond mutters under his breath. Luckily, neither Otto or Alicent seem to have heard that last comment.

The meal commences with out any more disruption. Otto and Alicent begin to discuss the latest raven from Dragonstone and the conditions Rhaenyra had outlined in said letter. Aegon was drowning in his wine again and attacking his food with his fork and knife. Helaena on the other hand was sipping on her own watered down wine and just staring at Aemond. Her eyes are glossy and she has a sad smile on her lips. He tilts his head at her questioningly, but she says nothing to him.

“Sister?” He questions.

But before she can respond, they are interrupted by Alicent calling out to him.

“Aemond. I noticed that Ser Ellion was not with you today, as he was walking alone through the castle. Why was he not with you?” She does not look at him for a response, focused on eating.

“I told him to leave me alone. I do not wish for him to follow me.”

“That is not for you to decide. I am your mother, and if I decide you are in need of extra protection, then you and he will do as I say. Ser Ellion is there in case anything bad happens.”

“In case anything happens? Like what? My pillow breaks and a feather falls out? A strand of hair is out place?” Aemond snarks.

“In case Rhaenyra and her spawn do something or attack us.”

Aemond rolls his eyes and gestures at Aegon. “It is not me you should be worried about.”

“You could at least appreciate the effort we have gone into in making sure you are safe, Aemond.” Otto adds.

“He’s just bitter because he was defeated by a mere knight in the training yard yesterday. Maybe it finally knocked him off his high horse. Oh little brother. What happened? Did someone finally prove you aren’t all you think you are? Just the sad little second son with no purpose. Too bad. I truly wish I had been there to enjoy the performance.” Aegon cackles and takes a swig of his wine. “Poor baby Aemond. Never good enough.”

Aegon’s drunken ramblings go unnoticed by Aemond, who has all but shut down beside him, head down and hair hanging in front of his face to block anyone from seeing his face. Aegon’s words can cut deep, but it was no pain he was unfamiliar with. But even so he feels sick to his stomach at the reminder of how he had failed. How he had been beaten by some lowly Lannister boy who was only just knighted.

Alicent sighs and moves on to another subject.

“We have sent out another letter proposing a marriage for you, Aemond.”

“Hmmm.” He says nonchalantly. This wasn’t anything new. They had sent several letters to the noble houses of Westeros regarding his availability and need for a lady-wife. Aemond could not care less about such things. If he had his say, he would never marry a noble lady he did not want. He would rather be free. He would rather take Vhagar and run far away from all of this.

“To the Hornwood’s in the north. Lord Hornwood has a daughter. Several years older than you and nearing the end of her childbearing age.”

“Ha! Old enough to be your mother, Aemond. And you are a mommy’s boy. Although she is probably just as frigid and cold as the land she comes from.” Aegon whispers.

“Not much else we can hope for at this point.” Otto laments.

Aemond grips his hands in fists under the table. How could this week just be so entirely miserable? Firs Ser Ellion and now this? Did his family know no shame? Why could they just not leave him alone?

A soft touch lands on his left hand under the table. The fingers take his hand in theirs and squeeze gently. It was Helaena. Gentle, sweet, Helaena. Still quiet, and still smiling sadly at him. He attempts a smile back but ducks his head before his sister can see how the conversation was truly affecting him.

“Not all dragons will burn you, brother.” She says.

No. Maybe not all dragons. But Lannisters and Hightowers were tearing him down peg by peg. Not even his self made strength could save him now. Abruptly, he shoves the untouched plate of food away from him and stands from the table, his chair scraping loudly across the floor. He glares at Aegon who is smirking at him and narrows his eyes at Otto and his mother who look at him disapprovingly.

“I do not feel like eating. I will retire to my rooms.” He smiles down at Helaena, releasing her soft hand before all but running out of the room.

I should have stayed in the library. At least the books don’t whisper and mock me.

Just as he was turning the corner to the hallway that housed his personal chambers, he runs smack into something hard. So lost in his thoughts was he that he had not heard nor noticed anybody in the hall. He stumbles back so abruptly that he loses his footing and begins to fall back. But then a hand takes hold of his bicep in a gentle grip and a warm arm wraps around his waist to keep him upright. Aemond’s eyes trail up from the silver plated chest, to the white cloak and finally to warm blue eyes and a kind smile. He groans. Ellion Lannister stands with him in his arms.

“Just my luck.” Aemond quickly stands up and rips his arms from the other man and scurries back several steps.

“My prince. Are you hurt?”

“I am fine. I thought I told you to leave me alone.”

“I know, my prince. And I will trail further behind you if I must. But I still must do my duty.”

“Then move.”

“I just wished to apologize my prince.” Ser Ellion dips his head in regret and kneels in front of him.

“Apologize?” Aemond raises an eyebrow.

“Aye. For yesterday. It was not my wish nor my intent to humiliate you or anger you.” The knight says from his spot on the floor.

“You did neither. It was a simple spar, that is all.” Aemond says coldly. Though he is not being entirely truthful. For he was humiliated. And he was very angry.

“Even so. If it would please you my prince, then we could have a rematch. And you can win for all to see.”

“Are you asking me for a rematch so you can lose on purpose? So you can let me win?” Aemond gapes.

“Well…”

“Repeat that and I will cut off your hand. If I do decide for a rematch, Ser Ellion….” Aemond leans down in hopes of intimidating the other man. “…Then you will do no such thing. It will be fair and whomever wins, wins. Do you understand?”

The knight looks up slightly surprised. But he bows his head again. “Yes my prince.”

“Now get up and get out my sight. I am headed to my chambers. No need to protect me from my bedsheets.” Aemond points down the hall. “And get off the floor. You look like a sniveling, groveling child.”

Aemond stalks down the hallway, but not before Ser Ellion stands and bows to him.

“Thank you, my prince.” And with another of those horrible, awful, charming smiles, he makes his way down the hall, curly golden hair shining in the sunlight that streams in from the high windows.

Once in his rooms, Aemond sighs and shuts the door. He rubs a weary hand over his good eye and pinches the bridge of his nose. He could feel a headache coming on. Just what he needed on this already terrible day. Meeting Ser Ellion in the hallway was just the icing on the proverbial cake. The man was infuriating. Tall, strong and disgustingly charming. It was as if he wanted to be friends, with the way he acted towards Aemond. Aemond couldn’t understand it.

I have pushed him away over and over again the past couple days. Why does he still insist on being an annoying little shit?

He may be annoying. But even I can’t deny his handsomeness and lovely hair.

“Oh shut it.” He tells himself before walking over and collapsing upon the edge of his bed. He slowly removes his eyepatch, making sure it does not rub over any of the disturbed flesh. He drops it upon his bedside table, but then his eyes catch something else there on the nightstand. A small, leather-bound book. One that was quite familiar. And one that had certainly not been there this morning. He takes it in hand and opens it up with shaky fingers.

Oh. It was the book of poems he had been reading the previous day. But what is it doing in my chambers? I left it in the library…

Aemond ponders the situation and how it could have appeared in his rooms but then he realizes.

“Ser Ellion. It must have been Ser Ellion.”

The knight had been the only one in the library at the time he had been reading it, besides Ser Criston who had shown up afterwards, and the maester. But Ser Ellion and the maester were the only ones who would have any idea about what the book was. Ser Ellion must have heard him and the maester speak. Aemond flips through the book of Valyrian poems, though he stops when he comes across a dog eared page.

Did Ser Ellion do that? How entirely rude. He thinks as he looks at the poem. It was a flowery recording of the greatest dragons of the old kingdom. The ones who’s fire burned brighter than all others, and those who’s scales were inpenetrable.

Why would he leave me this? What is his goal in doing such a thing? But his mind supplies him an adequate answer. An apology.

It was absolutely ridiculous if you asked him. How could someone so unimportant and new get under his skin so easily? Ser Ellion had only been a part of the household for three days now. And already Aemond wanted to either rip his head from his shoulders or banish him. A tinier part of his mind that he immediately squashes down adds Or kiss him.

But it was the truth. The man was handsome. The most handsome young knight at court. Aemond was sure that all of the girls were already swooning over him. And even some of the men who had particular tastes. He was kind as well, as much as it pained Aemond to admit it. Aemond smiles. But no, that did not change the fact that he was annoying and Aemond did not want anything to do with him.

“I must collect my thoughts. The past few days have thrown me into disarray.” He mutters before setting the book back down.

Normally, when he feels like this, Aemond would go ride out on Vhagar. And this is exactly what the young prince proceeds to do. Sneaking out of the castle was nothing. He had been doing it since he was a young boy to go find Aegon and bring him back home. But this time he was not in search of his disturbed older brother. This time he makes his way to the dragon pit where the dragon keepers greet him with bows and polite words.

“Do you wish to take Vhagar out for a ride, Prince Aemond?” One of the elders asks.

“Aye.”

“She has been waiting for you, my prince. She was discomforted, Prince Aemond. Is all well?” The elder queries.

“Aye. All is well. Thank you.” Aemond smiles and nods before heading into the dragon pit where she resides.

Vhagar is waiting for him when he reaches her. She is awake, though lounging on her stomach. One eye cracks open when he approaches and she huffs an annoyed breath when he leans against her and pats her on her head.

“I know. I’m sorry Vhagar. Will you take me away from here for a few hours? I can not stand being here any longer.”

The dragon, seemingly understanding everything Aemond does not say about it, lets him onto her back. And it is not long before they are in the sky, where both of them belonged.

[with-blood-and-fire]

Fic: Even Monsters Need a Gentle Touch Chapter 2

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Title: Even Monsters Need a Gentle Touch

Summary:

Aemond is used to people steering away from him, avoiding eye contact and whispering about him behind his back. He pretends not to notice and not to care. But in truth, his heart aches at the thought that no one can love him with the scar on his face.

Luckily, someone comes along who will fix everything. Someone who will love him despite his scar. At least so Aemond thinks. Things go downhill and after a traumatic event, Alicent sends Aemond to negotiate with Rhaenyra at Dragonstone.

Unfortunately, Aemond is taken prisoner almost immediately by the Princess and her husband and is forced to reside in the castle with them. Thought it is a tough start to his new life, eventually Aemond finds that love and care is not so hard to come across after all.

Chapter: 2

Pairing: Endgame Aemond/Jacaerys, but starts out Aemond/OMC

Rating: Will eventually be NC-17, but starts out relatively tame

Warning: None for this chapter, but I've linked the Ao3 story link so you can all view the story tags for what there will eventually be.

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43665726/chapters/109800333

The next morning came much swifter than Aemond would have preferred. Though his schedule was strict and he forced himself out of bed before the sun had risen each day, this morn he would have rather stayed in bed. If not for the extra sleep, for the warmth and comfort it provided instead.

Aemond had been in a mood since the previous night, and even Helaena’s gentle presence could not warm his heart. Whether it was the winter season that made his heart and mind falter, or the whispers in the hallways, the presence of the new Ser Ellion, or even the dryness and itching of his scar, he did not know. But as soon as his eye had opened this morning, he snapped it shut and groaned. It was already promising to be a terrible day.

But dutifully he removed himself from the cozy blankets and pillows. The chill of the stone floor caused shivers to claw their way up his spine, but he ignored them in favor of taking his black silk dressing robe from the chair he had thrown it over the previous night. Throwing the fabric around himself he settles at the armoire.

One look in the mirror causes him to groan.

I look like the dead.

And indeed he had certainly looked better. His skin was paler and dryer than it had been for a long time and it seemed his hair fell limply around his face and shoulders.

That is what you get for not going out on Vhagar in weeks. He thinks to himself.

To attempt to repair the damage, he began his daily routine, starting with his empty eye. In a moment of forgetfulness, he had accidentally fallen asleep with the sapphire still in his eye socket. Regretting doing such a thing he takes the pot of moisturizing oil and dabs it around the skin gently. As he continues caring for the delicate skin, his thoughts drift off.

Was it worth it? Even now, years later, he wonders whether losing his eye was worth the joy he had felt for claiming Vhagar.

He loved the dragon dearly and they had an unbreakable bond. But sometimes he wondered what his life might be like if he had not claimed Vhagar that fateful night.

I would still have my eye. Lucerys would not have attacked me along with the others. Would I be called handsome or beautiful? Aemond cleanses his hands before removing the sapphire from his face. Taking a cloth, he dips it in water and soap. Would the servants look me in the eye? Would the lords and ladies offer their kindness and respect? After cleansing the sapphire, he replaces it and begins to wash the rest of his face.

Would father have loved me?

He knows the answer to that. No perfection would have swayed the late King’s heart. He would still ignore his son as he always had.

His spiraling thoughts turn to anger as he gazes upon the scar and sapphire eye in the mirror. The memory of the joy of claiming Vhagar as a child had turned sour. And it was all that bastard Lucerys’ fault. Many times over he had thought of requesting Luke’s own eye for his. It is what Alicent had wanted.

Aemond shakes his head to calm himself.

No. You know adding more bloodshed and hatred to this family would not please you. Nor would it lessen the pain you feel.

He is startled when a timid knock sounds from his door The prince pats his face dry before wrapping his dressing gown tighter around himself and stalking over to the door. When it creaks open, he is greeted by the sight of a serving maid with a platter of fresh fruit, bread and wine. Behind her stand several more servants with buckets of steaming hot water and towels. The serving maid’s eyes are downcast as she curtsies to him.

“My prince. We have brought breakfast and hot water for a bath.”

Aemond sighs and nods, though none of them are looking at him.

“Very well. You may enter.” He murmurs.

The serving girl curtsies again and looks up. But instead of continuing on into the chamber, her eyes widen in fear and she gasps. Aemond is confused for a moment before cursing under his breath. She was looking at his eye. He had forgotten to put on his eye-patch before answering the door. Fuming in anger at both her and himself, he steps back and sweeps an arm out.

“Be quick. Then leave me.” He orders.

The servants descend upon his room like vultures. The serving maid sets his breakfast down upon the table before moving to take his sheets and opening the curtains. As soon as the tub by the hearth is full of the steaming water, the gaggle of servants bow and scurry away.

“Fuck this.” He growls. He was not ready to deal with such ridiculousness this early in the day.

Aemond is quick to bathe and wash his hair. For the moment at least he pushes his spiraling thoughts away from his mind in favor of getting ready for the day. By the time he is done, dawn is beginning to break and he looks the part of a calm and confident prince again. His white hair, now dry, hangs loosely down his back. The eye-patch has found it’s place once more and his mask of a smirk now rests upon his lips. He had chosen his normal garb, black boots, black trousers, black tunic and black leather jerkin. After one last quick look in the mirror, he deems himself finally presentable. He passes the table, where the breakfast still sat, untouched. But he does not spare a single glance for the meal, only grabbing his cloak and exiting the room.

To his utter horror and misfortune, standing guard at his door is Ser Ellion. The knight’s back is straight, hair curled perfectly and that absolutely ridiculous smile upon his lips.

“What are you doing here?” Aemond demands.

“My duty, my prince.” The knight turns to face him and bows deeply, before returning upright and smiling that kind smile again.

“I told you to leave me alone. I do not want you here.” Aemond slams the door behind him as he glowers at the knight.

“If my presence offends you, my prince, I apologize. But your mother has ordered me to protect you. And I can think of nothing more rewarding than to protect the prince of this realm.”

“What mother wants, mother gets.” Aemond grumbles before turning heel and stalking down the hallway. The clank of the armor the knight wore following him.

“The Queen mother is kind. And I do not protest at being in the presence of such an accomplished warrior and scholar.”

Aemond snorts at that, turning to glare at the man.

“Flattery will get you nowhere with me, Ser Ellion. I would suggest you keep quiet if you must absolutely follow me like a sad, lonely puppy.” Aemond smirks when the knight finally quiets down. Perhaps the day would not be so terrible after all if it could be spent in peace and quiet. Wrong.

“Where are we going?” The knight queries with interest.

“That is none of your business.” Aemond growls, walking with quicker steps down a staircase and another long hallway.

“It is my duty to take my prince to places that are safe and guarded.” The knight answers.

In anger, Aemond reels around and pushes the knight back with palms on his breastplate. The knight barely reacts, only smiling still at the prince and keeping his hands at his sides.

“I need neither of those things. My only wish is for you to leave me alone.”

“Forgive me, my prince. But it is your mother I must obey.”

Aemond pushes him back again in frustration before returning to his walk. The halls are still mostly quiet and empty due to the time of day. They only pass the occasional servant who scurries out of the way and bowing to the prince as he passes. It is fortunate that he does not have to deal with any whispers…yet. Eventually the duo find themselves in front of a wide set of double doors. Aemond enters quietly, rolling his eyes as the knight barges in with armor clanking.

“Oh! The library!” Ser Ellion exclaims.

“Shhh!” A maester shushes them from where he was sorting through books in a corner.

“My apologies!” The knight exclaims, just as loudly.

“You would do well to silence yourself, Ser Ellion. This place is for quiet, peace and solitude. In fact, why do you not just leave?” Aemond whispers.

“I can not do that my prince. If you wish to read or study, or whatever it is prince’s normally do in the library, then I will stand watch.”

Aemond sighs as the tall man makes his way over to a corner where he can keep an eye on the prince. Aemond on the other hand makes his way to a certain section of the library and starts picking through books on the shelves, trying to find something. When he does not find what he is looking for, he drops his head in defeat.

“Prince Aemond.”

Aemond jolts up, looking at the old maester who had approached. He nods in greeting and the older man smiles at him and holds out a small leather bound book.

“Was it the poems of old Valyria that you were looking for? I set it aside for you, just in case you were wishing to read it again.”

Aemond takes the book gratefully. “Aye. Thanks you Maester Loras.” A genuine smile graces his lips for the first time that day as he holds the book close.

“If you need anything, you know where to find me, my prince.”

The maester bows before returning to his work. Aemond on the other hand retreats to a small table by one of the tall windows. Luckily, for the next several hours, he is left in peace to read. His one eye focuses on the words on the page, carefully reading over each one. The book was in High Valyrian. And it had quickly become one of Aemond’s favorites when he had happened across it the other day.

Though High Valyrian was not often spoken in the household, due to the fact that Alicent had no knowledge of the language, and the fact that Aegon could not care less to learn the language of his forebears, Aemond still preferred to read books and scrolls in the language. It was something he prided himself on. His knowledge and proficiency of High Valyrian had earned him high praise from his tutors as a boy. One of the only things he could do right it seems.

But he had to make up for the parts he was lacking somehow. Second son. Disgraced and disfigured second son. He shakes his head to clear his thoughts. If there was one thing he did not want it was to ruin his joy over the poems with his terrible thoughts.

His peace was not to last of course. As it never did in the Red Keep. The clanking of a second set of armor rang throughout the quiet hall all to soon and the prince looks up to find Ser Criston looking at him with concern.

“My prince.”

“Yes?” He asks in a bored tone, annoyed at being interrupted. At least Ser Ellion has the decency to keep quiet.

“You missed our meeting time. The bell rang ten times already.”

Oh. So absorbed in his poems he had been, he had forgotten to meet Ser Criston for training.

“I did not realize the time, Ser Criston. Forgive my forgetfulness.” He says politely before closing the book and standing.

“Are you alright, my prince? It seems your mind has been elsewhere as of late.”

“I am completely fine, Ser Criston. You need not worry. I only am anxious to get back to the training ground.”

“Let us go then.” The Lord Commander bows to him, gesturing for Aemond to go first. And to Aemond’s misfortune, Ser Ellion follows just behind.

The training yard is just as crowded as it had been the day before, even with the cold winter atmosphere dampening Aemond’s spirit. Squires, knights and lords alike were already training and practicing their weapon skill with each other. This was something Aemond decidedly liked about the Red Keep. Though the rest of the castle was bathed in politics and status, the training yard was a place of equality. It mattered not whether one was a squire, knight or a lord. They all trained and practiced together, cheering each other on.

“I will use my mace again today, my prince. After yesterdays defeat, I fear I must practice with the weapon more.” Ser Criston says, before heading over to the table where several weapons were laid out for them to choose from.

“So this is where you spend your days, my prince?” Ser Ellion asks from behind him.

Aemond unsheathes his sword and falls into position, finding his balance for the fight to come. “Why does it matter to you?” He growls.

Ser Ellion grins brightly at him. “I was just astounded to see my prince fight so well yesterday. Though I am saddened that I missed the whole fight. I was only able to see the end. You fight magnificently, my prince. If I may say so.”

“Whatever.” Aemond rolls his eye as Ser Criston returns and gets into his own position.

“On your mark, my prince.” Ser Criston nods his head before waiting for Aemond to make the first attack.

Much like the previous day, they start on equal footing, neither hitting their mark or finding weakness in their training partner. Ser Criston fights just like before, his mace being swung in wide arcs towards the prince. To Aemond the attacks seemed random and it was hard to figure out the pattern. Luckily, Aemond had swiftness and the lightness of his sword on his side. He dodges the mace as it swings right and left.

Ser Criston had been a wonderful teacher, too wonderful perhaps. Several times he had mentioned how Aemond had far surpassed his expectations and it was possible that he now was more skilled than the teacher. But Aemond disagreed. When it came to sword play he was skilled of course. But the knight had several long years ahead of him and much more experience. He may never reach the prowess of the knight, no matter how many times he beat him on the training ground.

Just as the day before, Aemond eventually finds the upper hand. Ser Criston was beginning to tire and his movements were become slower and less refined. It was not long before Ser Criston trips and falls, mace flying from his hand and landing beside him. The sharp edge of Aemond’s blade finds its resting spot above the knight’s jugular.

“Do you yield?” Aemond demands.

“I yield. My prince.” Ser Criston gasps out between breaths.

Nodding, Aemond holds out his hand to pull the knight up.

“Oh that was absolutely marvelous! Lord Commander, you fought bravely. And my prince, your skill knows no bounds.” Ser Ellion bounded up to them, clapping as he did.

The whole of the courtyard had witnessed the scene and several were clapping as well, eyes averted in respect. Or horror and fear, if you asked Aemond.

“Ser Ellion. I am glad to see you are adapting to your new duties.” Ser Criston nods at the other knight.

“Most well. It is an honor to serve the prince.” Ser Ellion smiles and blushes.

“Of course. Prince Aemond. Why do you and Ser Ellion not spar?”

“What?” Aemond snorts.

“Yes! That is a lovely idea. My prince, I would be honored to put my blade against yours in a sparring session.” Ellion bows deeply to the prince who only groans.

“Must I?” Aemond rolls his eye.

“Come, my prince. It would do you well to practice against someone other than I.” Ser Criston says, backing away and resting against the wall to watch.

“Fine. Let us get this ordeal over with.” Aemond grumbles, resetting his footing and position.

A crowd gathers round. The squires, lords and knights all had paused in their own training to come watch the event that would take place. It was always of interest to them when a new knight showed up. They all wanted to see their skills for themselves. And the fact that the first time they were seeing it was against their prince made it even better.

“You honor me, Prince Aemond.” Ser Ellion bows a final time before unsheathing his sword and finding his own position.

“We shall see if you are still saying that when we are done.” Aemond growls.

It is Aemond who attacks first again. And he holds little back. He starts strong and swift, attacking with vengeance. If the knight is surprised at the aggression of the prince, he does not show it. Instead, he blocks each swipe of the sharp sword with his own. He does not attack in return. At least not yet.

Is he stupid? Aemond thinks to himself. How could Ser Ellion be anything else if he only defends?

Ser Ellion allows Aemond to swing and swipe without end, only defending himself for many long minutes. Eventually though, he begins to step forward, meeting Aemond’s attacks strike for strike. It is fascinating to watch. It seemed Ser Ellion had more skill than many had predicted. Of course he had to, being anointed to the kingsguard almost upon arrival to King’s Landing.

“You aren’t so terrible, Ser Ellion.” Aemond goads.

“Nor are you, my prince.”

“I was trained by the Lord Commander himself. I would hope I would have learned a thing or two in that time.”

“I hope I can learn from him and you as well. I only hope to make you proud my prince.”

Aemond snickers and attacks with vigor once more. The sparring lasts for a long time, and it seemed like the two might be on equal footing. But eventually, one must cave and yield.

Aemond swings his sword towards Ser Ellion in the direction of his neck. But Ellion stops it with a simple block from his sword. Ser Ellion makes the same move towards Aemond, sword moving in quick succession. The prince moves to block it of course, but the way he brings his sword up causes a flash of pain to flow through his wrist. The pain surprises him and the sword drops with a loud clatter to the ground.

Aemond immediately goes to duck down and grab his sword, but a foot swipes out into the bottom of his calves, causing him to flail and land on the ground with a cry. The sword swiping up and sending his eye patch flying is what ends the sparring session.

Unlike before, when Aemond had defeated Sir Criston, the training yard is now silent. The only sound is Aemond’s harsh breathing as he gazes at his discarded sword on the flagstone.

What…..how? Aemond withers under the gaze of Ser Ellion and the rest of the crowd. He had….lost? And by a new knight no less. So in shock was he, that he doesn’t register anything being said, only staring in shock at his wrist and the sword.

“My prince?”

Ser Ellion holds out his hand for Aemond to take so he can pull him up, but the prince does not respond.

“My prince?”

Aemond finally glances up at him. But instead of taking the offered hand, the sight of it only makes him more angry. He swats the hand away from him and stumbles to his feet. He glares at the knight, anger radiating off of him.

“Thank you, Prince Aemond. It was an honor to spar against you.You fought well.” Ser Ellion dips his head towards him.

Ser Criston in the meantime grabs Aemond’s sword and holds it out to him. The prince grabs the sword and clutches it to himself. He speaks no words, only glaring angrily at the new knight before turning heel. But he is stopped in his tracks when he catches sight of the crowd watching him. They all look uncomfortable or scared.

And he wonders why.

His hand trails up fearfully to his face. It is only then that he realizes that his eye patch is gone. They could see him. They could see his scar and the sapphire. With a great gasping breath, he runs and he doesn’t look back.

[queenielacy]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: House of the Dragon (TV), A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Aemond "One-Eye" Targaryen/Original Male Character(s), Corlys "The Sea Snake" Velaryon/Rhaenys Targaryen Velaryon Characters: Aemond "One-Eye" Targaryen, Corlys "The Sea Snake" Velaryon, Alicent Hightower, Otto Hightower, Rhaenys Targaryen Velaryon, Criston Cole, Original Male Character(s), Original Male Character(s) of Color, Helaena Targaryen, Vhagar | Visenya Targaryen's Dragon Additional Tags: Bisexual Male Character, Original Character(s), Mentions Canonical Character Death, Period-Typical Homophobia, Love at First Sight, At least on Aemond’s part, Lust at first sight for my OC, Explicit Language, Boys Kissing, Possessive Behavior Summary:

A few months before King Viserys dies and the dance begins, Otto Hightower invites Lord Corlys Velaryon to the capital in an attempt to gain support for his grandson’s claim to the Iron Throne. Corlys decides to bring his young cousin and ward, Montraeys, along and Aemond falls hard for the young seahorse.