The jeers of the day past haunted him still, festering in every moment his eyes fell shut.
“Aemond, we have a surprise for you,” Aegon had said, his words oozing false sweetness.
“Something very special,” little Lucerys had added, drawing Aemond deeper into memory.
He heard again the hurried patter of small feet retreating into the shadow and drawing forth some lumbering thing from the dark. Laughter swelled within the stale air of the Dragonpit as Aemond’s gaze fell upon the pig; its flanks bound in straw and cloth alike, sprouting mock wings of wicker and twine.
“Behold!” cried Jacaerys, half-choked by his mirth.
“The Pink Dread!” Lucerys howled, his face alight with glee as the others joined in, their laughter clattering against Aemond much like that of a stoning.
The memory’s bite wrenched him awake, his breath ragged, and fists clenched tight in his sheets. Shame burned like hot iron in his belly, the taste of bile swelling at the back of his throat. The laughter of his tormentors still echoing in his ears—taunting him even in the sanctuary of his sleep. The night offered no reprieve, its shadows teeming with mockery he wished to bury.
He could endure it no longer. Rising swift, he slipped into the secret ways of Maegor’s Holdfast, where torchlight faltered and silence pressed close. He knew the twists of those passages well, his small feet carrying him swift through stone and gloom until at last they brought him to your quarters. The door creaked open, the sound faint as a mouse, revealing within the quiet sanctuary that lay dormant.
There you lay, curled in sleep, the rise and fall of your chest soft beneath the woven coverlet. The brazier’s warm glow filled the room, banishing the shadows that sought torment. Aemond stepped closer, his chest tight, his fingers brushing lightly against the linen at your side, tracing where the fabric had folded beneath your rest. For a moment, he only looked, drinking in the calm that seemed so far beyond his reach.
“Are you asleep?” he murmured, his voice hoarse with exhaustion.