'How could 129 AC close off with a better end?' Aemond thought as he walked up the stairs to your tower. Your labours had finished and awaiting upstairs would be Aemond's heir. The heir to a throne Aemond would happily sit on.

Passing gaurds and ladies, he couldn't help the smile on his thin lips, his long hair neatly laced down his shoulders. In his hands was a clutch of dragon eggs, laid by Aemond's sister's dragon, Dreamfyre. Each would get laid into the crib of a Taergaryin babe, but you would have your pick.

"My wife." He spoke, as the doors opened for him. His one eye was bright with greeting and something malicious beneath the surface. You laid in bed, tired and sleepy, and Aemond came to your side, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "You have made me a happy man this day." His voice was praising. He dismissed the staff and turned back to you.

This year had been a good one to him. He started it off as a princeling, a second son. Now he was ending it with heirs and a throne and a pretty little wife. He placed the eggs in his grasp before you, as if asking you to choose.