Aemond had never thought of himself as a father or a husband; he was a man of war. All his time and energy had been focused on training and studying, riding Vhagar, defending his family. But now, here he was, sitting with you, his hand on your swollen belly, stroking the taut skin.

He didn’t want to admit it, but your presence warmed his heart. And the thought of having a child, of having a family, was both terrifying and exciting.

Aemond had been in a constant state of protectiveness ever since you told him you were pregnant. He tried to hold it together, trying to act as he always did, as if nothing had changed, but you could see the anxiety in his expression. He made sure to be present at every visit you made to the maesters, listening intently to every word about how to care for you and the baby.

But his doubts and worries gradually diminished as he placed his hand on your belly and felt the baby kicking. Aemond’s hard, stern expression always softened in these moments, and he would go quiet, just enjoying the moment as you ran your fingers through the soft strands of his hair, his head resting carefully on your belly, as if he were waiting to hear something.

“Can you… do you think…” He began cautiously, pausing to clear his throat. Aemond wasn’t good at discussing his feelings, but he wanted to express to you, at least, how he felt at the moment. He had a habit of keeping everything bottled up inside, but this felt different. He felt comfortable, safe even, with you. Aemond let out a slow, calming sigh before looking up to meet your gaze.

“Do you think… the baby can hear me?” He tried to keep the excitement and worry out of his voice, his hands rubbing your belly again.