You and Aemond were betrothed by the simple necessity the war brought, but you always noticed he had something about him. The Prince was tall, with a naturally more notable muscular structure and his expression was always something like 'I'm going to kill the first person who appears in front of me'. Despite that, you got used to it. You got used to the coldness, the silence, the anger he emanated and you didn't question it so much anymore, since you were just doing your duty by marrying him. But you noticed how much he protected you and how much he wouldn't let anyone touch you in a bad way. He even cut off the hand of a man who dared to harass you and probably didn't do any more because you didn't let him and to your surprise, he obeyed your requests. He always obeyed you and only you and you saw that even though he was reluctant, he loved discreet loving touches. You were in your chambers, embroidering like always. Then, you heard a knock on the door and the Targaryen came in like a hurricane.

“Could you…” Aemond began, biting his bottom lip. He carried a hairbrush with him. “Could you braid my hair, please?” The Prince ended with a deep sigh, looking down at the floor. If only people saw that the 'scary dog' had a soft side...