Hii!!! How are you? I want to say first that I love your blog and work, you are wonderful and very talented writer, I really enjoy reading you so much. I was wondering if for the random writing prompts you could write somethin using the prompts 12.“I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.” and 26.“Let me do this, please.” about Aemond being in love with the reader since childhood but he's afraid of telling her because his insecurities about his scar. And one day his eye hurts a lot and she want to help him but he try to push her away because...Aemond being Aemond, but at the end he gives up and let her help him and in that moment he tell her how he feels. Of curse I think you could make this more complex and fluffy and romantic with a hapoy ending, that was just de idea, and sorry if it's too specific. Sorry for my english too, it's not my maternal lenguage
"Did I do something to offend him?"
"No, Y/N, I don't think it's anything like that." Helaena stroked your arm comfortingly as you finished pinning her hair back in place.
You looked at each other in the mirror of her vanity, your expression worried as you wrung your hands together. "Then why has he become so cold towards me?"
"Aemond is..." Helaena hesitated, turning on her stool to face you. "He is complicated. He doesn't know what to do with strong emotions." She shrugged helplessly at you as you tried to process her words.
"I-" Your thoughts were interrupted as the chamber door swung open on oiled hinges.
The entering servant bowed low to the princess. "The Queen regent requests your presence, your highness."
Helaena rose, straightening her skirts. "Thank you, Tomas." She glanced at you once more, trying to convey some indecipherable message in her lilac eyes, before departing from the room.
You curtsied after her, brow still furrowed in confusion. What had she meant, 'strong emotions'? Aemond had been your friend since childhood, he'd never treated you with the indifference of the past few weeks.
You sighed. "Boys." They said women were hard to understand.
Finishing your duties early, you decided to take some respite in the library. Climbing the stone steps of the Red Keep you were excited to have some alone time in the book-filled room. The library was not abandoned, as you had suspected it would be, it seemed someone else had sought shelter there.
"Aemond." You said, surprised to see him sitting at a dusty table pouring over a hefty tome of history.
He looked around at you, his silver hair slipping over his shoulder. His lilac eye glanced you over cursorily before he returned his attention to his book. "Y/N."
"Seriously, what did the servants put in your food?" You put your hands atop your hips indignantly.
"I beg your pardon?"
"I'm not giving it. Not until you tell me why you've been treating me so terribly." You were close to tears, wiping the droplets of moisture off your cheeks angrily. "Have I done something to offend you, that you would scorn me so?"
"Y/N, no." Aemond stood, crossing the room to stand before you, his eye wide with alarm as he saw your tear-filled eyes. "I..." He sighed. "I apologize, I haven't been fair to you."
You folded your arms across your chest, hugging yourself, waiting for him to continue.
"I've been under much stress lately and..." Aemond trailed off, suddenly unable to make eye contact with you. "I've been thinking-ah!" He gave a snarl of pain, clapping his hand to his scar and bowing forward.
"Aemond!" Your tears forgotten you hurried forward, pressing your palms against his chest and shoulder to keep him upright. "Should I fetch the maester?"
"No." His other eye was screwed tight shut. "Just, help me to my rooms."
Half-supporting the prince, you shambled out of the library and down the halls. Aemond was heavy, his arm slung over your shoulders, and you stumbled a few times as new waves of pain crashed through him.
"What is it?" You asked, heaving the door to his room open and helping him sink into the cushions of the sofa. "How can I help?"
"I'm fine." Aemond said through gritted teeth, his watering eye finding yours. "You may leave."
You didn't budge, the muscles in the left side of his face were twitching alarmingly. You reached out to help ease his eyepatch off, but Aemond caught your wrist in an iron grip. "No." He breathed, whether in anger or fear you couldn't tell.
"Aemond." Your voice was soft, your fingers still outstretched towards his cheek. "You don't have to pretend to be fine. If you need me to stay, I will."
He held you for a moment, his eye searching your face.
"Let me do this." You coaxed gently.
At last, he released your wrist, giving you a terse nod, wincing as he did so. You slowly hooked your fingers beneath the band of his eyepatch and slid the leather off his face. It was the first time you'd seen him without it, you tried to keep your face neutral as you took him in, keenly aware of his own probing gaze.
"Well?" Aemond hissed, flinching again from a shock of pain. "Are you disgusted? Will you run back to your rooms in fear?"
There was nothing in the eye socket staring back at you, just empty blackness framed by scarred skin and tissue that once served as eyelids. The vertical scar running along his face was puckered and still looked ghastly despite the efforts of the finest maesters to heal it.
"Don't be an idiot." You scolded, soothing your words with a soft smile as you tore your gaze away from the haunting image. "We've been friends for how long?"
"Warm water helps." Aemond gestured to the wash basin.
You filled a kettle and placed it to warm over the fire for a few minutes, glancing back to make sure his condition hadn't worsened. "How often does this happen to you?"
Aemond was silent a moment. "Not often, but when it does I am frustratingly hindered." He sat very still as you approached with the warm washcloth.
You didn't have to, but you swept his hair back out of the way of any dripping water, relishing the feeling of it slipping through your fingers. "Will I hurt you?" You raised the cloth to his face hesitantly.
"Never." Aemond held your gaze with an intensity that sent heat flooding your cheeks.
You pressed the warm rag to his cheek as gently as you could, wincing as he hissed with pain. "No, keep it there." Aemond instructed, pressing his fingers to the back of your hand, his face slowly beginning to relax.
You returned the washcloth to its basin, wiping any remaining droplets of moisture from Aemond's face with your thumb. He reached up, tracing the skin of your hand softly, his gaze on your face was curious. You gave him a small smile, the breath catching in your throat as he tangled his fingers with yours and lowered them to the cushions.
"I thought you despised me." You whispered, your voice almost inaudible over the crackling fireplace.
"Here I thought you thought me abhorrent." Aemond shook his silver head, looking pensively at where your hands were interlocked. "Y/N..." His eye flickered back to your face. "I'm in love with you, and I'm terrified."
It was a good thing you weren't standing.
"You...I'm sorry I think my hearing is damaged." You shook your head as if to clear debris from your ears.
"That is unfortunate." Aemond leaned into your space, his gaze dropping to your parted lips. "How about I show you then?"
A soft noise escaped you as his lips met yours, Aemond's hand finding the nape of your neck, dragging you closer until you were practically sitting in his lap. The firelight danced across the contours of his angular face as he pulled away enough to measure your expression with his hooded eye. He seemed to like what he saw. "You are a rare and marvelous creature, Y/N. I was certain you would see in me a monster."
"I could never fear you, Aemond." You shook your head, his thumb pressing against your lower lip. "You have a fierce kind of beauty unmatched in this world."
"Now you're flattering me."
You licked your lips, his eye dilating as it followed the movement.
"I didn't say to stop." He grinned, swooping down to claim your lips once more.
"You're an excellent kisser, oh wondrous dragon of silver samite." You intoned melodramatically, breaking away from his seeking lips with a giggle. "The bards will forever sing praises to your prowess and perfect hair."
Aemond's laughter mingled with your own as he lunged for you, pressing you back into the cushions with his body weight and tickling your sides with dexterous fingers. You squirmed under him, breathlessly shrieking and trying to evade his devilish touches. You couldn't breathe, made worse when he ducked into your neck, sucking and nibbling against your sensitive skin. You arched into him while simultaneously trying to escape him. "Aemond, please! Ah!"
He halted his tickling, hovering over you, his hair pooling on your chest and throat. "My name will be the only one to spill from your lips henceforth." He kissed you languidly, his chest pressing flush with your own. "Make no mistake, I will make you mine before the year is old."
With that promise sending fire to your core, he helped you upright, smoothing his hair while you ran your shaking hands along your rumpled skirts. You leaned into him, unable to get enough of his smokey scent, kissing his sharp jawline tenderly. "That's a promise I will hold you to, my prince."
Commentaires