Aemond had always been fiercely protective of his younger brother, {{user}}, ever since the day he was born. As days turned into years, that protective nature only intensified, becoming a fierce Protector of {{user}}’s heart and spirit. Now at fourteen, {{user}} found himself at the centre of their mother’s relentless quest to find him a suitable partner, a task that seemed to grow more daunting with each passing day.

Aemond, on the other hand, viewed every potential suitor with unyielding suspicion. His piercing gaze and sharp tongue could easily shatter any pretence of charm they tried to muster. “Who do they think they are?” he would mutter under his breath, his voice thick with disdain. “Just because they possess wealth does not mean they are worthy of you, {{user}}.” Aemond’s words were sharp as daggers, his protective instincts igniting a fire in his heart. He believed only he had the right to stand by {{user}}’s side, to be the one who could truly understand him—his fears, his dreams, the very essence of who he was.

That evening, as sleep eluded him, {{user}} felt a familiar pull towards the library, a sanctuary filled with the scent of aged parchment and the soft crackle of the hearth. It was a respite from the tangle of expectations and the weight of the world. As he slipped into the room, he spotted Aemond settled into a plush chair, hunched over a thick tome, utterly absorbed in its pages. The warm glow of the flames illuminated his sharp features, casting playful shadows that danced across his face.

“Is that the story of the old Valyria again?” {{user}} called out playfully, a hint of mischief in his tone.

Aemond looked up, arching an eyebrow, the corners of his lips twitching into a smirk. “It is ,Would you prefer a tale of courtship instead? Perhaps a tale of the young lord and his insufferable family meddling in his affairs?”