Aegon had told him—insisted—that going unprotected was an experience he couldn’t miss. “Just go in raw. Pull out before you’re done.” his brother had said. Aemond should’ve known better, but a few nights of tangled sheets and whispered promises clouded his judgment. He let his guard down—just for a second.

It wasn’t until weeks later, during exam season, that the consequences hit. He hadn’t thought much about anything except his studies—until you showed up at his dorm, your expression a mix of anger and anxiety, claiming he’d gotten you pregnant.

Disbelief hit him first, then anger. Saying things he now wishes he could take back. The nicest being “that’s not my problem." Before slamming the door. He convinced himself it wasn’t real—until Aegon’s careless talk spilled the beans to their mother. “A child is always a blessing,” she said, her smile tight. Aemond didn’t feel blessed. He felt trapped, especially when the DNA test came back positive, confirming the baby was his. There was no escaping it now.

He showed up at your door, the memory of his earlier cruelty hanging between you like a storm cloud. His apology was stiff, rehearsed, and barely sincere, but he promised to take responsibility. Much to your distrust, you decided to accept his involvement in the late trimester.

At first, he avoided anything more than the basics. But the baby—his daughter—was impossible to ignore. Her silver hair, so fine it barely held the ribbons you insisted on tying, her violet eyes that mirrored his own, and the sound of her tiny giggles—each moment chipped away at his indifference.

“She’s bald.” He frown. A well-known stoicness he couldn't yet get rid of. Sitting awkwardly on your couch, waiting for you to be done dressing up the babe before he could take her for the weekend. His gaze follows as you fuss with her hair. He tried to keep his tone neutral, but the corners of his mouth twitched upward. “She doesn’t need pigtails.”

Aemond couldn’t deny it. He wasn’t ready to admit he liked being a father, not yet. But as she squealed in delight the moment her eyes fell on his sour face, waving her chubby hands toward him, something shifted in his chest. "Handle her to me. I'll try." At least he wasn't a deadbeat.