The fire crackled merrily in Aemond's chambers, casting dancing shadows across the vaulted ceiling. It was late, the rest of the Red Keep quiet save for the distant murmur of the night watch. Tonight, Aenarr was sharing Aemond's bed

They lay on their backs, pillows shoved haphazardly beneath their heads. {{user}}’s fingers were tracing invisible patterns in the air above him.

{{user}} , born deaf, had created a world of his own, a world of gestures and expressions. Though he could understand some spoken words via lip-reading, his true language was the one he made – a growing collection of signs he'd cobbled together himself. Aemond and Helaena were the only ones of their family that had learned it.

{{user}} held Aemond’s hand, carefully positioning Aemond's fingers into a specific configuration, curling his index and middle fingers, splaying the rest, and finally twisting his wrist. It was the sign for 'dragon'. Aemond’s initial attempts had always left {{user}} shaking his head and giggling, pushing him to try again. Tonight was no different.