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1.
The first time was a mistake.
Daemon and Rhaenyra had just arrived at King's Landing and no one informed them which chambers were prepared for them. Daemon expected to be situated in the ones he had occupied since his youth – and the impression was cemented once he saw Rhaenyra sitting in a chair with her back to him, long silky hair reaching her thin waist, head bowed over a book.
He approached her from behind and bent down to kiss the top of her head. In the next moment however, the chair had been knocked down, and one of his very agitated-looking nephews glared back at him.
Oh, was Daemon's thought as he froze for a moment. That's not Rhaenyra.
"What are you doing?" His nephew demanded in a harsh tone, and Daemon recognized the boy as Aemond, the one-eyed brat, the Vhagar thief. It seemed he himself was instantly recognized as well. "Uncle?"
Faced with the furious yet confused boy, Daemon should have explained his mistake. It would be logical, even if slightly stinging for a man to be likened to a woman; not that it was unheard of. Daemon could even add a teasing comment about how fair his nephew appeared to be. Even if offended, Aemond would forgive the misunderstanding and agree to never mention it again, perhaps only for the sake of his own dignity. But Daemon was never one for an easy way out, not when he could tease a family member.
He shrugged instead, relaxing again. "Greeting my nephew?"
Aemond blinked; the skin around his only eye tightened. "Do you deem this an appropriate greeting?"
Daemon couldn't help but smile nonchalantly. "Of course. I have missed my sweet nephew."
He took a step closer raising his hand to touch Aemond's hair again but his nephew nearly tripped over the chair in his haste to get away, pale face blossoming with pink embarrassment.
"I am not a child," he snapped and rushed past him towards the door.
Daemon's amusement only grew – after all, his nephew had just yielded his own rooms.
2.
The second time was out of boredom.
He stumbled upon Aemond in the library while the boy was studying some writings. Daemon only visited this place because there wasn't much else to do while waiting for a disaster to happen – a certainty in their family, one of the main reasons why Daemon didn't try to speed up the process that would lead to them leaving the Red Keep. For now.
His nephew didn't even react to the loud croak of the door being opened, and Daemon would be a fool not to take advantage of the element of surprise. Mischief sparked in his eyes as he approached Aemond, put one hand on the back of his chair, and kissed the top of his head as though it was the most natural thing in the world. The boy jumped in his seat, startled, then whirled around to see who had presumed to touch him in such a way, his face clouded by a scowl. His eye narrowed when he realized it had been Daemon.
"Uncle," he stood up, his nostrils flaring, clutching his book to his chest. "You could have announced your presence any other way."
"I did not wish to disrupt your reading."
"Very presumptuous of you to imagine touching me in this way would not disrupt me."
"Why would it? Are we not family?"
"We're—" Aemond bit his own tongue, glancing away. "I am not accustomed to such. . . family affections."
"Get used to it," Daemon took the chair next to his. After a moment of staring Aemond sat back down slowly, carefully. He opened the book again but Daemon saw him watching him over the paperback.
He let him.
3.
The third time was when Aemond fought Jace in the courtyard and won.
"Very good," Daemon remarked, approaching the two. Even though it was to be expected of the winner, Aemond didn't offer Jace a hand to pull him up. "Most impressive, nephew."
Aemond only hummed, seemingly indifferent, but Daemon saw the way he basically soaked in the praise. Most of the tension ebbed out of his posture; the anger subdued. Daemon patted his shoulder and when Aemond turned to him, arching an eyebrow in question, he grabbed his cheeks and angled his head so that he could press a kiss to the top of it.
"Good job," he repeated, softer this time, and stepped back, ignoring Jace's confused expression.
Aemond said nothing. He only pursed his lips and nodded, then sent Jace a warning look, as though daring him to speak a single word about it.
4.
It became less of a joke and more of a habit.
When Daemon entered the dining hall one evening to find his whole family already gathered around the table, the back of Aemond’s fair head facing the door was a clear invitation. He bent down to kiss his crown and his nephew didn’t say anything, only huffed in something resembling irritation, then carried on talking to his brother who in turn stared at Daemon owlishly. The only sign Aemond had even noticed the gesture was that he had bowed his head slightly, wordlessly granting him access.
Daemon chuckled to himself and wondered if his nephew minded the affection as much as he had claimed to.
5.
The tourney celebrating the king’s birthday wasn’t grand – so much in fact that it was a tourney in name only. Daemon wasn’t certain if it was in the king’s name since Viserys wasn’t even present. He himself didn’t bother participating; it was such a small affair, after all, and his days of seeking glory at tourneys were long past.
The platform on which the king’s empty seat towered over the arena wasn’t very high. It was built in a hurry and at a low cost, so low in fact that its highest point was almost level with a horse’s snout. It was neither impressive nor intimidating but served its role to elevate the royal family in the eyes of the audience.
Daemon wouldn’t be sitting there if not for the fact that Rhaenyra had asked him because Jace was trying his hand in the tourney – but to Daemon the deal breaker had been the information that so was Aemond. Aemond who so far had beaten all of his opponents.
And now, as he was circling the arena, everyone waited for the prince to stop in front of some sweet lady to ask for her favour, but Aemond chose to pull his horse over to the platform instead. Aemond didn’t wear a helmet, and it was obvious why – it would only obscure his vision even more. His hair was slightly dishevelled but his face looked serious, solemn even, as he trained his only eye on Daemon, as if beckoning him with his gaze.
Daemon was sitting in the second row, with no one in front of him. Showing no hesitation, he stood up and approached his nephew; clutching the railing tightly he leaned over to kiss his forehead. “Good luck,” he muttered.
Aemond hung his head, hair falling over his reddened cheeks, and turned his horse to make another round around the arena before he rode away. He didn’t stop again, even if the fact left some ladies visibly upset.
Once Daemon took his seat back, he grinned in response to Rhaenyra’s raised eyebrows. He would tell her later it had been all her fault.
+1
"Good morning, nephew," Daemon brushed past him on his way to the dining hall, starving for breakfast. Aemond stilled for a moment and bowed his head but Daemon didn't give him any more attention.
After a beat, his nephew followed him inside. He stood at the door for a moment and stared. Receiving no reaction, he took a chair around the table, his eye still boring into Daemon. Then he moved a few chairs closer so that he would sit directly next to his uncle. It was clear he was waiting for something.
After a moment the staring became unnerving. Daemon sighed and met his gaze. “What?”
“You didn’t greet me,” Aemond said.
A pause.
“I did. I said, good morning, nephew.”
Aemond clicked his tongue. Daemon returned to his plate. His nephew hadn't even filled his.
After a moment he spoke again. “So,” he murmured, playing with a fork, struggling to sound casual. “You are finished with that inappropriate joke?”
“What joke?”
“Kissing me.”
Daemon snorted. He finally shifted most of his attention from food to the boy. “Why? I thought you detested it,” he teased.
Aemond looked away.
"Or didn't you, nephew?"
A few seconds of silence and a soft, "I didn't mind," was what Aemond settled on.
Daemon swallowed his laughter. "Do you want me to kiss you in a proper greeting then?"
Aemond glared for a second, but the hidden, gentle side of him apparently won. He gave a quick nod.
Daemon drank a sip of water before he leaned in, cupping his nephew's face. Aemond closed his eye, looking almost content as he relaxed, and Daemon couldn't resist playing another joke on him.
He closed the space between them, pressing his lips to his nephew’s in a soft, almost sweet way. He claimed a double victory – rendering him shocked and confirming a suspicion. It took Aemond a moment too long to push him away – of course, he'd plead surprise later, but Daemon would doubt his excuse.
"What are you doing?" Aemond's eye was wide open when they broke away, his face pale apart from the flush on his cheeks.
“I thought you asked me to kiss you,” Daemon mocked, smacking the hand that pressed back at his chest.
"I've never asked for—" he cut himself off, huffing in irritation. "You're misunderstanding my words on purpose!"
"You're not forming your requests well and clear."
Aemond leaned back in his seat, certainly willing his embarrassment away but to no avail. Daemon only smiled as he continued eating as though nothing had happened.