Aemond x reader | hungover hilarity ensues | Clive is sniffed out
Sunlight pierced through your eyelids, causing you to wince and shrink further into the safety of your blanket cocoon. You had a raging headache, your mouth felt like the deserts outside Meereen as you tried unsuccessfully to move your leaden tongue. You turned with agonizing slowness onto your back, reaching your arm out, feeling for Aemond who you’d expected to be sleeping beside you. The bed was empty save for your own aching body; with difficulty you kicked off the quilt and sat up, propping yourself on your hands.
You scanned the room, spitting strands of your own hair out of your mouth, squinting against the blinding light of the rising sun. He was not there, you groaned, rubbing your temples, trying to remember the events of the night before. All you could recall was Aegon’s face grinning at you as he helped refill your wine glass. Worry coursed through your mind at all the possibilities of what could’ve happened, your worst fear was you had given your husband so much grief, causing him to spend the night elsewhere.
The oaken door to your chambers opened and Aemond pushed his way through, his arms laden with several plates full of steaming food. He placed them upon the table, turning to look at you, smiling with amusement at the state you were in. “Good morning, do you have the faculties to eat breakfast?”
“I might throw it all up in a few minutes, but I am famished.”
“Hmm, I can imagine.”
Aemond watched, his smirk growing, as you clumsily fumbled out of bed, catching yourself on the nearby wall. “You’re enjoying this aren’t you?” You righted yourself as much as possible, stumbling to the table, making to sit upon the dining chair.
“Y/N!” Aemond, his smug smile vanishing, reached for you but it was too late. You crashed to the floor, having missed the chair by a good few inches.
“Owwww…” You groaned as Aemond, determinedly avoiding your glare, helped you off the ground. You massaged your backside. “That’s going to leave a bruise.”
“Perhaps we should eat on the bed.” Aemond suggested, the strain of keeping a straight face causing a tear to well up in his violet eye.
“I can sit in a chair dammit!” You felt below you for the seat before sinking down upon it with a relieved sigh.
Your husband helped you fill your plate and poured you a glass of water, he sat himself as well, watching as you gobbled the food. Silence fell between you a moment, then, “Who’s Clive?”
You choked.
Aemond swore, swiftly kneeling by your side, thumping you hard several times upon your back as you coughed the scrambled egg out of your lung.
“C-Clive?” Your eyes streaming, you looked into Aemond’s bemused face.
“That was what you called me last night, when you were so drunk you forgot what your husband looks like.”
“I…what?” You coughed unnecessarily several more times to buy some time, your mind too foggy to think quickly.
“You seemed convinced I was this ‘Clive’, you threatened him…me when I tried helping you undress.”
“…I see.” You didn’t, but you also had no desire to speak further. Aemond stayed next to you, waiting while you chewed upon your bottom lip, the breakfast forgotten.
You took the glass of water, gulping some down, keeping the rim to your lips.
“I know you’re stalling, Y/N. You’re not even drinking.” Aemond reached for your wrist, pushing your hand away from your mouth and back down to the table. “Who is Clive?”
“He was a man I was betrothed to back before I was sent to King’s Landing.” The words spilled out of your mouth much like the water sloshing over your glass of water as you stared at the little droplets gathering on the wood.
Aemond tucked his finger under your chin, turning you to face him. “And you’re still in contact with him?”
You shook your head instinctively but hesitated, your eyes looking at the wall over Aemond’s left shoulder.
“Y/N, look at me.”
You did, the expression of jealousy on Aemond’s face sent a swooping sensation to your stomach which would’ve been pleasant if it weren’t for your raging hangover.
“We communicate on occasion, as friends do.”
“Where is he now?”
“As if I would tell you!” You stabbed at a sausage with your fork, missing wildly.
“Is he in King’s Landing?”
You moved some cherry tomatoes absently around the plate with your knife.
“Y/N…”
“Ugh, Aemond!” You slammed your cutlery down, looking at him with an aggravated roll of your neck. “It seems you’ve forgotten I married you!”
You grabbed his face with your hands, leaning in to kiss him but Aemond batted you away, falling back. “Your breath smells atrocious, keep your distance.”
You blew air at him, causing the prince to retch, before you turned your attention back to your food, keenly aware of his gaze upon you. As you forked careful mouthfuls of egg into your mouth, Aemond approached once more, beginning to comb his fingers through your hair, detangling the veritable rat’s nest upon your head. “You didn’t just mention Clive last night.” His voice had grown soft.
“Oh? I hesitate to wonder.” Your sarcastic remark was muffled around a mouthful of porridge.
“You bragged to me about your husband. Well, I suppose you bragged to Clive about your husband.”
“What did I say, exactly?”
“Only good things, I assure you.” Aemond smiled wryly, wiping a speck of egg off your face. “I had to stop you short before you could illustrate exactly why I am an excellent lover.”
Luckily you didn’t have food in your mouth this time as you inhaled sharply. “Please tell me we were alone at that point.”
“Well, Clive was there.”
You smacked him playfully on the chest, Aemond grabbed your hand, placing a kiss to your knuckles. “I jest, my love. Clive is safe from my infamous wrath.”
“I’m sure he’s thankful, far away at Highgarden as he is.”
“Ah.” Aemond straightened, walking to the door. “So, he is in the Reach then.”
“Aemond no!” Cursing, crumbs flying, you grabbed your overcoat and followed him out into the still empty hallway. “Come back here! What are you going to do?”
Aemond glanced back as you hurried to catch up to his long strides, nearly tripping on the rug and faceplanting, catching yourself on his arm.
“I intend to introduce myself, that is all.”
“By sending Vhagar?” Your eyes were wide with panic as you clutched at his leather tunic.
“By sending a raven, Y/N. There’s no need for me to ride my dragon to Highgarden.” You breathed a sigh of relief. “Yet.”
“You’re an ass.”
He chuckled, clearly enjoying teasing you. “Last night I was Clive.”
“Well now you’re Aemond again. Though I can sure tell you how that’s vexing me at present.”
Your husband stopped, turning to grasp both your forearms in his large hands. “My lovely, hungover wife. You look like a street urchin come fresh out of Flea Bottom and I imagine you don’t feel much better.” He grinned as you punched at his shoulder, turning to the side to swiftly dodge the blow. “Go tend to yourself, I will send a raven inviting Clive to the Red Keep. I’d like to meet this man you were once betrothed to.”
You stood still in the middle of the hallway as Aemond turned and continued onward, his long silver hair falling down his back. “You’re an evil, evil man, husband.”
“Make sure to drink lots of water, wife!” He called, before rounding a corner and disappearing from your line of sight.
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