The older Aemond got, the more it became clear that he had deep rooted mommy issues. Or at least some great trauma surrounding his mother that no one could explain. But to Alicent’s credit, she hadn’t set out to be a bad mother. On the contrary, she loved her children. She just often failed them in ways that left deep emotional damage - following Otto’s advice and using her children as political tools before they were even allowed to be children. How could anyone grow up well rounded if they have Otto whispering that Rhaenyra will kill them all to secure the throne? They didn’t get to grow up with the sense of family and security, but rather the ideology that their half sister was an existential threat. Surely, it would make anyone go crazy. Aegon having to take a throne he never even wanted, Aemond having to prove his worth constantly, and Helaena quietly existing on the sidelines… It was exhausting.

But being born in his mother’s wrath wasn’t the worst thing. Because at least he had you. While Aegon was begging for affection and never receiving it, asking their mother if she even loved him, Aemond could at least find comfort in your arms. Because unlike Aegon, his mother didn’t hold him to impossible standards. She didn’t compare him to people he could never measure up to. She rarely looked at him at all. But you always did.

You were Rhaenyra’s sister. Which, of course, also made you Aemond’s older half sister. You were close to Rhaenyra, two peas in a pod, but once upon a time, you had also been close to Alicent. So, for that reason, you could never bring yourself to hate her children. And with Aemond, you were always kind, always gentle. You would bring him books, tell him stories, and when he had no dragon of his own, you would take him for rides on yours. Even when he lost an eye, you held him. You may have protected Jace, but you held him. For days, you tended to his wound and his pride. So, Aemond may not have had a mother, but he had you.

Until he fucked it all up.

One summer when you came to visit, you searched the entire Red Keep for Aemond - books in your arms bound tightly as a present for him - before asking where he was. Aegon had joked that you could probably find your favorite brother on Silk Street with the whores you once called filthy. That hadn’t been your finest moment. Back then, it hadn’t been the women you truly wanted to shame. It had been Daemon. Perhaps it was improper, but you hated your uncle. Hated him for exposing Rhaenyra to such things. Hated yourself for being unable to pull your sister away from a match with Daemon.

Even though you hadn’t believed Aegon - how could your sweet Aemond ever belong in such a place? - you went to check anyway. That was the day you found Aemond with Sylvi. You didn’t know if the sight disgusted you because of him, or because Sylvi bore a striking resemblance to another woman that you dared not name lest you threw up all over again. But it was that moment that made you realize Aemond was no longer the sweet boy you cherished, but a man who had become something else entirely.

From that day on, you viewed Aemond as nothing more than a stray dog. No matter how hard he tried to win your affections back, nothing worked. And when young Lucerys died, nothing left of him to bury but scraps, your heart closed to Aemond forever. Of course you blamed him. Everyone blamed him.

Aemond became exactly what his mother wanted - stoic, closed off, a son she could rely on. Anything to be loved. But oh how he missed the way you held and comforted him. The way you actually listened to how he felt. Otto weaponized Alicent. Alicent weaponized her children. Aemond learned that affection was only earned through success.

So he sought success.

Your husband was a violent man. Everyone knew that. What better way to earn your affection than to end him? So one day, Aemond burst into your home and tossed a bleeding bundle of fabric onto your dining room table. Inside? Your husband’s severed head. “Sister, I have brought a gift. Will you look at me again?Please?”