Before the union of Rhaenyra with Ser Laenor Velaryon, an event etched forever in memory took place when Daemon claimed Rhaenyra's innocence in the hidden corners of a brothel, planting a seed of life within the princess rightful to the Iron Throne...
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You're just like an angel Your skin makes me cry You float like a feather In a beautiful world I wish I was special You're so fuckin' special But I'm a Creep I'm a weirdo
Whilst lying in a bed built for a royal member, the young Targaryens glowed as the night before blossomed their love to the most potent form. It was a burning passion that finally succumbed to the night's end, and Rhaella couldn't be more elated by the new revelation.
The princess slowly blinked as she met the hardened features of the man she undoubtedly loved. The young woman smiled from ear to ear, with her hand gently caressing the man's rigid face. "I love you, Aemond," she murmured, her lips muffled by the blanket draped over her mouth.
Unlike Rhaella, who was more graceful, the prince jolted awake. His immediate reaction was to run a hand over his missing eye, with a scar stretching from above his eyebrow to his cheekbone. Aemond's breathing hitched in his throat upon feeling nothing but his bare eye, no eyepatch, only the scarred tissue and crystal blue prosthetic eye.
"My love? What bothers you at this hour?" Rhaella asked, her voice soft and soothing.
With his head held high, he directed his gaze away from his wife and hid from view. He shifted uncomfortably on the bed and flexed his back muscles to adjust his seating. "It is nothing. Please rest. We must be going soon.
"I know you, Aemond," the young princess tossed the blanket from her face and crawled closer to her husband. "I must know what troubles you. Do you have regrets of our marriage already?" her voice wavered as she sulked in bed.
The man did not answer, only shaking his head and inhaling sharply.
"Aemond..." she cooed, placing her soft hand on the arch of his back. "You can share your burden with me. My love for you is unwavering."
His voice gruff, he croaked in a commanding voice, "I wouldn't be too sure about that, love. I am a monster."
"What? No, never. You are the most beautiful, lively, and genuine person I have known. I adore you with every inch of my being. You are mine, and I am yours."
Still hesitant to turn around without his eyepatch, he sighed, "I am a beast. A monster, Rhaella. I am unsure how you can love such an unsightly man."
The woman rose from the bed and walked towards the other side, where Aemond attempted to cover his disfigured face. "Don't..."
"Oh, my love." Rhaella chuckled softly, her hands running across the man's face. "There is nothing to feel shame or sorrow about. You mustn't hide from me."
His chest heaved, the crevasse of his collarbones sulking into his body with every movement. "Are you not afraid of me? To love someone as beastly as I?"
"As a Targaryen, fear holds no dominion over my heart. As a woman in love, my heart has been forged. Within you, I see not a monster to flee but a fierce soul worthy of my devotion. Together, we shall soar above the skies, our love transcending the mundane, as unstoppable as the dragons of ancient lore."
The man closed his eyes for a brief moment and nodded. His hand remained on his exposed eye as he spoke, "You are a beautiful woman who loves an ugly man. You find goodness in others, and you create it when it is not there. My dearest Rhaella, you make me want to be the person I was before I lost my eye."
"Why don't you? Be the good man I know you can be," Rhaella smiled.
Aemond smirked, not the sentimental or sweet smile Rhaella knew, but a sickening malicious smirk as he removed his hand from his eye. "That foolish child is gone. He is scarred by not a dagger but the hand of a spoiled boy. I want Lucerys dead for what he did. The innocence is gone, Rhaella. I can never be as soft or gullible as I once was."
Upon seeing the somewhat torn flesh and how vibrant the blue prosthetic eye was popping from Aemond's skull appeared, Rhaella released a breath she wasn't aware she held. The sight of his eye, or the scarring, hadn't detoured her, but the glimpse of evil that glimmered in his eyes when talking about killing Lucerys.
"He is a child, Aemond," she solemnly said.
His eye twitched, "So was I."
Rhaella shook her head exasperated. "No, you are a good man. I can see it." She held his hands in hers and rubbed the face of his palms in circles. "While I do not know what happened between you and my brothers, I need to know you will not retaliate against them."
"And why not?" he tensed beneath her touch.
She tilted her head curiously. "If you do, you will be the beastly man you described. A man not worthy of my love or admiration. I see someone who is worthy of everything good. I need to know I am not wrong."
Aemond, while hesitant, nodded. "Fine. I will not bring any harm to any of the Strong boys."
Smiling, Rhaella remarked, "I find it endearing that you can acknowledge their strength in such a sweet manner, my love."
His eyebrow perked upon hearing his wife but spoke wisely. He promised his love he would bring no harm to Rhaenerya's children, but that hadn't excluded the possibility of others doing his ill-bidding. He smiled fondly to himself.
"I think our marriage is going quite well so far, don't you?" the young princess chuckled, kissing the man's pursed lips.
He hummed, "Yes, one might agree, as do I."
"Have you ever noticed you speak in riddles, Aemond?"
The man thought to himself but laughed. "I must disagree. If I spoke in riddles, or thought as eloquently as a clever man, I may not be the destined fighter that I am. While I might be both, it doesn't exclude the fact that I might cherish one. To be a clever man or a fierce warrior."
"You never fail to perplex me in the strangest of ways," Rhaella smirked as she leveled herself to sit on the man's lap.
The man cleared his throat, slightly adjusting himself on the bed. "Perhaps that is a good thing? Hmm?"
"Aemond, are you holding your dagger in your pants? I feel something touching my lower back. I can't quite tell." The woman shifted, her silk nightgown pressing up against Aemond.
The only material between the two, a thin material, drove the man wild. He grunted, smiling back at the confused princess. "It's nothing you haven't seen before."
