As a child, Aemond had never had something that was his. Not truly. He'd always had to fight for things, never had anything handed to him like his family.

While his siblings claimed dragons at a young age, it took him years before he could have a chance to claim one– Vhagar– and even then, he had to pay a price for it. An eye for a dragon, all because his bastard nephews and cousins believed he stole the great dragon. Likewise, he had to train immensely to overcome his disability and had to try harder than all the others to become a great swordsman and fighter. And as a second son, he was in no position to inherit anything.

Everything Aemond had, he had to fight for.

Except for you, his beloved wife.

Where everything else required him to fight for it, you just... waltzed into his life and never left. His uncle Daemon's eldest daughter. His dragoness.

Standing beside you on the balconies as court was in session, Aemond hummed, holding you close to him. He leaned down, whispering to you. "Could you imagine Rhaenyra or Aegon holding court?" He asks, darkly amused. "Neither would have the patience for it, I think."