The Marriage Pact

Affection

Credit to @kyloremus on Tumblr for the pic

Aegon dutifully stayed by Aemond's side, dozing in the chair by the fire whenever he could. He did all the things his brother usually did for him: helping him out of his tunic and boots, handing him a bucket to be sick in, tying his hair back off his face, providing him with water whenever he could bear to stomach it, and keeping his head propped up so he didn't suffocate. He even sent one of his servants to fetch a potion he always consumed after a particularly indulgent evening.

Having patiently tended to Aemond all night, Aegon decided he was entitled to have a little fun with him come daybreak.

"Good morrow!" He greeted him loudly, throwing open the curtains. "Isn't it a beautiful day?"

Aemond moaned, covering his face with both hands, and fell backwards off the bed in an attempt to escape the bright sunlight.

"Am I dead?" he muttered. "Is this hell?"

Aegon laughed. "No, it'll just feel like it. I must say brother, you have the absolute worst sense of timing. Only a fool would choose to have his first hangover on the first day of the Grand Tournament. You'll be spending the day sitting in the sun, surrounded by people you have to be at least moderately polite to, and it will be extremely loud... and long! Not to mention all the awful smells..."

Aemond just found the bucket in time to heave his guts out. Fortunately, his hair was still gathered back into a bun courtesy of Aegon.

"I'm not going," he grumbled, wiping his mouth with his sleeve and resting his face against the cold stone wall.

"You have to go. The tournament is in our honor." Aegon laughed again at his brother's tortured expression. "Don't worry, I'll help you through it. You may be the smart one in the family, but I have all the useful life experience."

He held out the potion to Aemond.

"What is that?"

"A cure. Well, not a complete cure, but it will cut through the fog."

"It looks disgusting."

"And it tastes even worse. My advice is to drink it quickly."

Aemond scowled but did as his brother said. Then he screwed up his face.

"Gods! I think I'm going to be sick again!"

"Well don't. You have to keep it down or it won't work."

"Oh yes? And what's next on your list of remedies?"

"This." Without warning, Aegon sloshed a pail of cold water into Aemond's face. He shouted in surprise, then gripped his head as the sound reverberated painfully through his skull.

"Are you trying to kill me?" he hissed.

"It'll help, trust me. I'm the expert here."

"In what? Torture?" Aemond peeled off his wet shirt. He tried to stand but quickly realized this was not yet possible, so he groaned and sagged back against the wall. "I vow I'm never drinking again. Why in the seven hells do you do this to yourself over and over?"

Aegon shrugged. "Can't help myself, I suppose. Why in the seven hells did you do it last night?"

Aemond scowled. "That's none of your business."

"No? Might it have had something to do with our dear niece?"

"You can go now!"

"She was very popular last night wasn't she?" Aegon persisted, grinning wickedly. "I thought you were going to kill that Lannister when he asked her to dance."