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Agonized moans filled throughout the room, the source of it coming from the young man lying on the bed in the center. 

Jacaerys was in labor, he had been laboring for a day and a half and his body and mind were exhausted.

The prince was expecting his first child, he had hoped that his physical and mental will would ease the process and the child’s birth would be swift, but it seemed the babe had other plans. 

He was aware that giving birth would be difficult, painful, and bloody; he just overestimated how terrible it truly was, foolishly believing he’d be able to handle it. 

It felt like his body was being split in two, the pain cutting through him agonizingly slow, never-ending, never wavering. 

How his mother was able to have six of them he did not know.

A whimper left Jacaerys’ lips as he sagged into the sweat soaked sheets, his eyes closing as he tried to even out his breathing, nothing but pain overwhelming his senses. 

Immediately, he felt the familiar hands of the midwife and handmaids on his body, the usual words of encouragement and comfort leaving their lips.

“Please my prince you must get up-“

“Just one more push my prince you’re almost there.” 

“You’re doing so well Jacaerys I can see it! I can see the babe’s hair-“  

Jacaerys was tired, tired of hearing the same words, tired of pushing, tired of the constant pain, tired of putting his body through hell and seeing nothing happen as a result; he just wanted it to end, gods, he was close to it many times; but he knew he had no choice, because the consequences of giving in would be far, far worse. 

Blinking rapidly, he resisted every urge to simply lie there, gradually he began forcing himself onto his elbows, his body shaking from the effort it took.

Gods I’m a mess.

Jacaerys couldn’t help but notice the blood all around him, on his legs, his thighs, his stomach, and soaking into the sheets below; how he had not collapsed from blood loss yet, he didn’t know.

Looking around he was met with the familiar company he had come to know in the past day. 

The midwife was the same one who had assisted his mother in giving birth to him and his siblings; despite the years, the old woman maintained the same kindness and skill that had assisted in their births; he was lucky to have her here after so many years.

Lady Massey, the sweet thing, had chosen to remain at his side in King’s Landing, her hand on his arm and gentle smile always comforting him after many years.

Despite the two being there for him, it was his family that Jacaerys truly wanted. 

The gods were cruel; when Jacaerys’ time was almost upon him, he had sent a letter to his mother on Dragonstone urging them to come before he would start his labor.

The skies were expected to be clear, and the waves were supposed to be calm, but it was as if the gods had scorned the child before it was even born; a storm had come from Storm’s End, and the clouds had become so thick and dark that not even a dragon could see through them or fly high enough to break the clouds, the lightning adding more ferocity and danger; and the waves had become so violent that only a fool would dare to sail upon them. 

It was only the small, wet raven that made it through, carrying a simple yet hopeful message. 

We will come as soon as we can, sweetling. Be strong. 

Words were not enough for Jacaerys now; he wanted his mother, his stepfather, his siblings, cousins, grandparents, any of them to be here, to offer comfort and strength; but it seemed he was meant to go through this alone; as his grandmother had done before him, he would have to face this battle with a stiff lip.

He only hoped he wouldn’t have to suffer the same fate as her. 

Banishing these thoughts, he glanced to his other side, the familiar figure of his husband greeting him. 

Aemond, like Lady Massey and the midwife, had remained by his side throughout his labor. A fact he didn't know brought him either comfort or confusion (perhaps both).

The marriage between Jacaerys Velaryon and Aemond Targaryen was created by the wish of a dying man. 

It was no secret that the relationship between Queen Alicent and Princess Rhaenrya was a lethal one; those who found themselves in either women’s presence were heavily affected by it and usually found themselves going from one side or the other; this especially was the case for their children. 

Viserys, despite his many efforts to stop this, became frantic when his health took an unexpected turn. Realizing that it was too late for his wife and daughter to put aside their issues, he knew he had to take a different path. So he sought out his second son and eldest grandchild, both of whom being the most prudent and devoted members of his family; unlike him, he was confident that the two would be able to fulfill his wish--that the House of the Dragon remain united.

He had appealed to each of the boys prudence, telling them what would become of their house and their families if they became too divided, how his death would be the catalyst of their destruction. He told them about their mothers’ how their rivalry and hatred would cause them to try everything in their power to seize the throne and much more; the lethality they had would spread and devastate the realm like how it had devastated their family, how it had devastated the childhood love they had once carried as children.

He also appealed to the love both boys had for him. 

Viserys had already carried a fondness for Jacaerys;  being his first grandchild and being every bit of a king he wished to be, he already knew the boy loved him as much as he did. 

Unlike the mistake he made with his wife and daughter, realizing too late how his actions affected their kinship and foolishly not repairing it, he put many efforts in loving all his children and grandchildren especially after the incident that caused Aemond his eye. Despite not demanding justice for Aemond that night he had made sure to fix the fatherly relationship he had neglected with Aemond. He had apologized, apologized for never caring enough for Aemond, for neglecting him, for treating him as nothing but a spare and never realizing how truly lonely his son was. He knew it would take time for him to repair the relationship they had, years of neglect took time to heal, but he did his best. Even at his weakest moments he had called for Aemond, bonding with the boy, talking with him; how to control his dragon, how to improve his High Valyrian, the tales of his ancestors and Old Valyria and the hope Viserys had for their family. Despite his relationship improving with his second son Viserys knew he could not truly change the boy’s opinion of his half sister and his nephews for his judgment was cemented on his face, but he hoped showing the same fondness and love he carried for them, would create something similar with Aemond. 

The day Aemond had first walked out with his new eye patch, unlike his mother who had flinched at the sight of him cursed and blamed his sister and her sons till she was red in the face, his father had reached out, his dark, decaying hand stroking the cloth, nothing but sorrow in his own eye.

"My sweet boy… if I had only learned from my past and its sins…if I had noticed how much you were hurting, how I could’ve prevented you from more pain than you already had…”

As he expected both of them agreed without hesitation, reverent and determined and both loving the old king they agreed to marry. 

The relationship between the two was tepid at first, as they continued to serve their families and The Realm while pretending the other didn’t exist. When in court or amongst the common people, they made an effort to keep up appearances, but they were civil at best.

The two did not share a chamber (which was not unusual), and if they could avoid it, they rarely ate dinner together; the only time they ever truly interacted was during Small Council meetings.

Much to Jacaerys’ amusement, his prior knowledge was that Aemond had never truly cared about such meetings until he came along; it seemed the Queen and Hand’s constant complaining about Jacaerys besting them during them had sparked the man’s newfound curiosity; as if the other had a chance against him either.

The “discussions” the couple had during these meetings were becoming legendary around The Red Keep; with both men being well-versed in history, strong-willed and opinionated the two could go on for hours, members of the Small Council finding these arguments impressive yet exhausting.

Usually these arguments would find themselves in Jacaerys favor, his sharp wit and skill with politics and history generally rendering his uncle speechless. 

Despite the friction between them, Jacaerys tried, oh he tried to befriend his uncle to see if any of the love or companionship they shared as children was still present in the older man. However, the man shared a great deal of his mother’s extreme sensitivity, harboring old grudges as unbreakable and unforgiving as Valyrian steel.

He had even gone and apologized to the older man, apologizing about the pig and the constant teasing and pranks he endured as a child, feeling guilty for not realizing how much they had hurt his uncle. (But he did not touch the incident involving his eye, for he would not apologize for needing to protect his brother and sisters.)

His uncle of course, didn’t accept his apology.

Jacaerys had little choice but to continue serving as his mother’s envoy and playing the part of Aemond’s husband putting up with the man’s silence, attitude and sometimes derision.

The two couldn’t avoid each other for long however; after a year of marriage and their relationship remaining the same since, it was obvious that the two had (deliberately) disregarded one of the main principles of marriage, in some cases the only principle. With their duty unfulfilled, it was only a matter of time before it caught up with them.

It had happened on the night of King Viserys’ fifty-third name day the ailing king still alive after much speculation; it seemed the hope brought from his son and grandson’s marriage seemingly giving him new life. The sight of the once bedridden king, sitting and celebrating with his family lifted many spirits that night. 

Throughout the night as they celebrated, Viserys being healthier than ever had finally noticed the coldness that was pungent between his son and grandson.

Later on the couple had settled in for the night expecting nothing after a long night of celebration and maintaining appearances, or so Jacaerys thought. 

He was about to retire to bed when his uncle had barged into the room, the older man still in his formal wear. Aemond was as stiff as a board, his fists clenched so tightly at his sides that they were white, his shoulders tensed and pushed back, his teeth gnashed together viciously, and despite his best efforts to make his face expressionless, Jace could see the storm brewing behind his eye.

Viserys was to blame for his uncle’s behavior; the king had seen the two’s stiffness toward one another, and the rumors he had heard about their ‘failed’ marriage were plainly in front of him; these accusations further fueled by the fact that the couple had yet to have a child.

Before Aemond left the festivities, his father confronted him, lecturing him on tradition and duty (just as he had done with Rhaenrya years before), telling him that despite their marriage being one of duty, they still needed to produce an heir in order to maintain peace within the family as well as to continue their line.

Humiliated, Aemond had taken his father's advice to heart and had gone straight to his nephew's chambers.

His uncle’s voice was clipped, and the man tried in vain to keep his face neutral as he explained his reasoning for being there.

Jacaerys could not help but be amused by the sight, despite appearances Aemond always let his emotions get the best of him.

But despite this he knew this day would come and as much as the idea of Aemond putting his cock in him was the last thing he wanted, Jace if anything always did what was required of him. 

The sooner he had agreed to his uncle’s proposal the man had marched towards him, every ounce of his body screaming with determination. 

As if he was going to run the moment he was near him, Aemond had grabbed him roughly by the shoulders and pinned him onto the bed. 

Already in his nightgown, his uncle didn’t have to worry about undressing him. The man struggled with himself, mostly undoing his belt and lowering his trousers enough to reveal his cock; he was semi hard, so he wasn’t too insulted.  

It was his uncle’s hesitation in performing the act, however, that caused it to grow. As the man struggled to settle in between his legs, he grew irritated and snapped at the man.

“Is it my face that is making this difficult for you uncle?! If so I can gladly turn around, and you can take me from behind!”

Aemond, of course, didn’t appreciate his nephew’s words and immediately dropped his full weight on top of Jacaerys; satisfied at the grunt of discomfort that came from him. 

It hurt at first, of course, due to Aemond’s eagerness to retaliate for his comment and the lack of slick, but once his body got used to it, Jacaerys found himself lost in the pleasures of sex, ignoring the fact that his first time was with someone who hated him. Having sex with one’s uncle would be awkward for anyone, but he was a Targaryen and this was their way, and he couldn't deny that Aemond was handsome, despite his attitude. Jacaerys especially appreciated this when he felt his uncle's muscular frame over him, when his hands dug into broad shoulders. 

Within a year of marriage, Aemond Targaryen and Jacaerys Velaryon had finally consummated it, hoping their one time union would be their last.

It took Jacaerys a month before he noticed the first signs of pregnancy. He first noticed it in his chest, which had become quite tender and how he found himself exhausted throughout the day, frequently falling asleep at his desk. Certain foods he usually enjoyed either tasted different or repulsed him and his nose had become quite sensitive becoming bothered by many things; the day he yelled at Aemond for his overpowering smell of sweat from training still echoed in his mind, the expression his husband had made was priceless. Finally, he experienced the infamous morning sickness, which he had hoped would skip him. 

With all this, he summoned the maester; the news that he was carrying was announced that very same day, the bells ringing loudly t’ill nightfall. 

Unsurprisingly, his family was overjoyed with the news, while others were less so. Alicent was not afraid to express her displeasure, her favorite child having one with Rhaenyra's making her more bitter than usual, Aegon being himself endlessly and crudely joked about the two of them finally bedding, but there was jealousy in his eyes and Helaena his favorite was overjoyed, his sweet aunt spending many hours murmuring her cryptic words and rubbing at his stomach; Aemond, if anything, was apathetic, but Jacaerys expected this.

Maybe it was excitement in having a child, maybe it was a last attempt to create a relationship with the man or maybe, simply it was the symptoms of pregnancy that made Jacaerys want to involve Aemond, despite the older man’s reluctance. 

Jacaerys would bombard him with questions regarding their upcoming child, such as what name they should be given? Did he prefer a boy or girl? What type of personality would they have? How would they look? Would they look like a Targaryen? Or like him? He'd inquire about the baby's clothing, where their rooms would be and which dragon egg should they be given? Or would they seek their own? Aemond, if anything, tolerated him at these moments, the man either giving him one worded answers or looks of confusion. 

Jacaerys could not help but be ecstatic at the news; he had known he would have children one day and had eagerly anticipated it. As the eldest of five, he took joy in raising and caring for his little siblings; and with the knowledge that he was going to have his own child, created a never-ending smile on his face, his being seeming to glow with happiness. 

People talked, of course they did, in the beginning many gossiped about the true nature of their relationship, how it was an act of desperation, how the animosity between them and their families was pungent; certainly they made a handsome couple, but looks weren’t enough to maintain a marriage.

So naturally when his pregnancy was announced they talked and talked but now their “concerns” lied on Aemond’s capabilities of being a father. The one eyed man with a temper as hot as fire, who was unforgiving and volatile; the man’s reputation was similar to that of his stepfather. People questioned, can a man so dark be capable of loving children? Would he raise them to be tyrants? Or would they succumb to the infamous Targaryen madness? Or would the children be saved and inherit the goodness of their mother? 

Jacaerys ignored such gossip, for he saw what others did not. He saw how Aemond treated those he truly loved, how gentle he was with his mother and sister, how devotedly loyal and protective he was of them, how he softly cradled his niece and nephew with adoration on his face. Aemond loved in his own way, quiet but passionate. He loved as someone whose heart had been broken by many and so was afraid to give it away. Jacaerys knew he had played a part in causing that pain, a role he regretted with each passing moment he had come to know Aemond. 

Even if Aemond didn’t love him, he'd make sure he loved their child, because he already did.

Despite not having met them yet, he was already in love with their future son or daughter, the desire to protect and cherish his child growing with each passing day.

And here we are now. 

Jacaerys’ thoughts were nettled as he recalled the events that had brought him here, grunting as he tried pushing again, praying to all the gods to let his baby come out. 

He clenched his teeth, the pain intensifying as he felt like his body was being torn in two, the feeling of more blood pooling between his legs.

He swore he heard a hiss of sympathy come from Aemond. 

He ignored the man and leaned forward, his chin resting on his chest as he desperately pushed, a strained cry escaping his lips as he finally felt the baby’s head push through.

“I see its face, my prince! Keep pushing!”

Encouraged by the midwife’s words he pushed harder with the next contraction, a sob of agony coming from him when he felt one of the babe’s shoulder squeeze through, his nails digging into the sheets, tearing the fabric. 

He pushed again but was met with nothing but the same intense pressure and lack of movement; letting out a sob of frustration, he let his head fall back onto the sheets.

The midwife moved then, her face solemn as she observed the babe’s position, after a while her gaze met his.

“I’ll have to move the babe’s body, my prince.. its other shoulder is stuck.” 

Feeling nothing but dread at her words, Jacaerys could not help but whimper in response. He knew he could trust her and that he needed to do whatever necessary to deliver his child; he simply didn’t want to experience any more pain, his body had already been through enough, and he wasn’t sure how much more he could take.

Having no choice, Jacaerys sent a quick prayer to the Mother before nodding his head, mentally and physically preparing himself. 

He received a quick comforting smile from the midwife before she smeared oil on her hands and moved in between his legs.

The prince could not help but close his eyes, not wanting to see any part of the process, he gritted his teeth, nails digging deeper into the bedding. 

When he felt the pressure of her hands inside of him, and the feeling of his internal walls being stretched, he couldn’t help himself. 

“Ooh Gods!! ” The prince exclaimed, throwing his head back as his hands ripped off the linen beneath him. 

He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to bear it as the midwife’s skillful hands began turning the child, ignoring the agonizing stretch. His hands released the ruined sheets, clawing frantically for something to cling to, when one of his hands found the solid flesh of another, he gripped it tightly, Aemond stiffening in response.

Jacaerys was unaware of this as he had closed his eyes, willing himself to breathe deeply and steadily while the midwife began prying the baby’s other shoulder out of him, gradually easing the terrible stretch.

When her hands left him, he felt her move and grip his legs, gently easing them back till his thighs touched his belly, her next words reassuring.

“You did well my prince, you’re almost there! Just one more push and the baby will finally be out!” 

Motivated and desperate, Jacaerys pushed again a scream leaving his lips, he swore he could hear Vermax’s roars of pain accompanying him; when he finally, finally felt the baby’s body burst free and fall into the midwife’s waiting arms; it was almost surreal.

He hadn’t realized he had fallen back onto the sheets until he opened his eyes and was met with the ceiling, the sound of a baby’s wails could be heard loudly throughout the room. 

“It’s a boy, my prince! A white haired, beautiful baby boy!”

As if all the pain and exhaustion in his body had suddenly vanished, Jacaerys immediately rose again, his eyes frantically searching for the source of the crying, searching for his baby, his son. 

He was beautiful, a healthy baby boy with a tuft of white hair, a pink angry face, wailing and alive.

Jacaerys reached out longingly, frantically, for his child wanting to offer him comfort, to feel him, to hold him.

When his baby was placed in his arms he couldn’t help the tears of happiness from falling down his face, a laugh of relief, joy and many more emotions coming out as he cradled him close. 

“My baby…my sweetling…you’re here , you’re finally here .” 

Jacaerys held his baby close; protectively, leaning down and kissing his son’s face, leaving it there as he just felt his baby in his arms. He murmured softly and lovingly as he did so, savoring the delicate and tenderness of his babe’s skin.

The babe’s cries had ceased the sooner he was in his mother’s arms, the little whimpers and coos he emitted pulling at Jace’s heartstrings. 

He didn’t know how long he sat there cradling his son and he didn’t care; he did not notice when the maids attempted to clean him nor try and change the bedding, he did not care about the dull ache of his body or the blood and sweat on his skin, all that mattered was his baby, safe and alive in his arms. 

But as soon as he felt a hand on his son's blanket, he immediately snapped his eyes open to find the source.

Aemond who had immediately removed his hand from his son, stared at Jacaerys his one eye wide with both shock and guilt; like that of a child caught stealing sweets before dinner.

Jacaerys would’ve made fun of his uncle for wearing such an expression but all that came was fondness. 

Smiling warmly at his husband, he slowly reached out, grasping the man’s retreating limp and bringing it back, nestling it gently on their son's crown.

“Look at him, Aemond, he’s beautiful, our son, our little prince.” 

Jacaerys smiled down at the babe stroking his cheek before continuing.

“He has your hair, I wouldn’t be surprised if he even has your eye color, he will be handsome and strong like a true Targaryen. Don’t you think?”

Looking back at the man, he noticed Aemond still had the same shocked expression on his face, his body frozen stiff as he stared at the babe in his arms, the hand he had on the babe’s head unmoving, whether Aemond heard his question or not he did not know. 

Jacaerys softly chuckled at his uncle, knowing that such reactions were not uncommon in men, especially after witnessing such a graphic birth.

Slowly adjusting his grip on their son, he reached out and grabbed Aemond’s other arm, pulling him forward with what little strength he had, forcing the larger man to hunch down and come closer to them.

When close enough, Jacaerys swiftly placed their son in the man’s arms. 

“Here uncle, your son must meet his father too.”

With his son now in his arms, Aemond’s eye couldn’t have gotten wider, his body positively stiffer as he stared down at him; fortunately for the both of them the babe didn’t cry, most likely recognizing the scent of his father.

Jacaerys watched as his husband remained frozen, a laugh escaping him.

“Relax Aemond, he will not bite you, he will once he grows teeth.”

He teased leaning back into the pillows, a sigh escaping his lips as he let himself rest. 

Aemond, gave his nephew a wary look before returning his gaze to his son, gradually began to unwind, his eye shrinking and his body relaxing as he took him in, his actions mimicking Jacaerys as he cradled him close, relishing him, a faint smile appearing on his face.

The sight of his husband’s smile made Jacaerys’ heart skip a beat; he had never imagined such a sight. He expected Aemond to abandon him during his labor or, worse, completely ignore their child, but it appears Aemond was not as cruel as he thought; perhaps there was still some of that boy he played with as a child still there.

As the two savored their quiet moment they were unaware of the door being open, the sound of footsteps approaching them.

It was one of the queen’s handmaids, the woman’s face and body oozed tension as she addressed the couple.

“My princes… the Queen requests that she see the baby….straight away.”

At those words, cold hard dread filled Jacaerys, his body freezing and heart beginning to pound as he processed them. 

He knew the queen had done something similar when his mother had just given birth to Joffrey, but to do it to your own son , his own child, was absolutely absurd.

Before he could respond to the woman, he noticed Aemond turn towards the door and begin to walk, the cold dread in his stomach now beginning to choke him.

“What are you doing?!! Aemond! Stop !”

Jacaerys was yelling, moving before he realized what he was doing, his hand extending and attempting to grab at the man’s doublet, his fingers barely brushing it.

When his uncle continued walking panic seized him, and he felt his heart pounding in his chest. Uncaring of his current state he stood up and tried to get off the bed, his body immediately collapsing on the cold floor, the many handmaids rushing to his aid. 

“Aemond! Aemond please! Aemond stop! Please don’t take him!” 

Jacaerys pleaded desperately, ignoring the handmaids who begged him to return to bed, his only focus being that his son was being taken away from him.

The younger man struggled to get up, pushing aside the many hands in his path as he attempted to reach his baby, tears streaming down his face as he watched them get closer to the door.

“Aemond! Uncle please! My baby! Give me back my baby!” 

He cried out, ignoring the excruciating pain coursing through his body and what was most likely blood pooling down his legs as he now tried to crawl after them.

He didn’t know what the queen would do to his son, he didn’t care to know, he just barely had him for gods’ sake! He knew he hoped she wouldn’t do anything to him but just the thought of his son being taken from him, his newly born, innocent baby alone with the vipers that were the Hightowers, without him there to protect him was something he didn’t want to risk, something he wasn’t going to risk. 

He needed to protect his baby, he would bleed out and die if that’s what it took to get his son back.

His sobs became anguished as he pleaded with Aemond, the pain that the man would betray him and take their child away without his permission, without his consent hurt his heart more than he could have imagined. He knew his husband was loyal to his mother but gods he had no idea the man could be so cruel.

“Aemond please don’t! Please don’t take him! Please don’t take our son!” 

Hearing Jacaerys desperate cries brought Aemond to a halt, the blind devotion he usually succumbed to beginning to break.

As if he was in a trance, he slowly became aware of his surroundings realizing, he was a few steps from the door, his son still in his arms, the babe now fussing due to his mother’s cries. 

He didn’t understand what he was doing. Taking a babe away from its mother at any time was inconceivable cruel but when it was barely born was another level entirely…surely his mother knew that? Didn’t she? 

His mother. 

His mother demanding to see his child, wanting to see if they looked like Rhaenyra’s, if they looked like Jacaerys; she was doing the exact same thing she had done to his sister years before, wanting to prove that Jacaerys was unfaithful, that he had broken his vows and failed his duties, a cheater unfit to be married to her son. 

Yet even he found this to be untrue as Jacaerys had never taken a lover during their marriage.

Like his mother, he had believed that his nephew would seek comfort elsewhere, but Jacaerys had remained faithful to him despite their strained relationship. Many men and women have leapt at the chance to bed the future King of Westeros; Aemond had personally witnessed numerous attempts of other’s trying to bed his nephew, with dashing men whispering in his ear and attractive women fluttering their lashes at him, but Jacaerys, if anything, was apathetic to their attempts. 

His curiosity had gotten the better of him, and he had asked his nephew why he had not taken anyone to his chambers, why he had not taken solace in another. 

Jacaerys had the audacity to scoff at him before answering. 

“You and I both know what happens when a Targaryen has a lover uncle, the result is rarely commended, I’d rather not create any more issue in this marriage if I can help it. If you plan on fucking someone be my guest. I know how to pleasure myself.”

He would deny how flushed his face had become after hearing his nephew’s explanation, and he would forever deny the thoughts he had when it came to what methods his nephew did to satisfy himself. 

What brought his mind to have such thoughts he did not know, but what puzzled him even more was the sense of contentment he had upon learning that his nephew had not taken a lover. 

He was aware of his mother’s endless jealousy of Rhaenyra, the hatred she felt for her former friend' as pungent as the smell of King’s Landing. His mother would rave about his sister and her faults many a time; her inability to do her duties, her selfishness in doing what she wanted, the fact that she was able to get away with so much with little consequence or opposition, to give birth to bastards that would become King of Westeros and Lord of Driftmark while her own children were given nothing. 

He loved his mother, she was one of the few people truly there for him at his lowest moments, but that did not exempt her from the poison she instilled in their family. 

He hated it, hated how his mother forced her jealousy and anger on her children, instilling mistrust, rivalry and anger into them, wanting them to resent their former friends like she resented hers. 

And at first he shared this resentment with her, the compensation he desired for his eye becoming his foundation, the motivation for every thought and action as he aged, the belief that Rheanyra and her sons were nothing more but their enemy, unworthy of the throne, unworthy of anything, let alone being married to. 

When his father had first suggested this marriage, he was offended and indignant, he was the rider of the largest dragon in the world, a master of the sword and knowledgeable on Westeros and its histories, he was worth more than just being a consort to a bastard; but at the same time the logical part of him couldn’t help but see the opportunity in such a union. 

Being married to Westeros' future king was the closest he'd get to actually becoming King (unless he planned on usurping his siblings); second sons normally didn't inherit much, so he should consider himself lucky; with his new position he had much more power and status than he did before and probably would've never had; his future children with Jacaerys would assume the Iron Throne after Rhaenrya, in that way he would achieve what he truly wanted. He had been granted the same role and chance as Daemon; a second son like himself, who was granted authority and sway over an heir to the Iron Throne.

And as much as he couldn’t deny it, he would rather be married to Jacaerys than some lowly lord or lady from another house; at least his nephew possessed Targaryen blood through his mother, despite his appearance (at least their children would be pretty).

But as his opinion on Jacaerys being future king of the realm he had…potential.  

Despite being there for only a year, Jacaerys had already made his mark on Kings Landing. With the backing of Lord Caswell and Lord Beesbury and others, Jacaerys was able to initiate influence and law on the kingdom. 

With his wit and pretty face he subtly began undermining his mother and grandsire’s hold, an outcome that was expected but undesirable.

But the boy did not simply concentrate on weakening their influence; Jacaerys forever good had started to bring about reforms to assist and better the smallfolk, he initiated a sewage system the smell of King’s Landing subsiding greatly, he implemented better education, homes and food for the downtrodden, more rights for women and improved trade and relations with the Free Cities. 

He had abolished the use of children in brothels and the selling of their maidenheads low and highborn, when he had discovered the child fighting pits that Aegon frequented, he had been both devastated and furious, threatening to send Aegon to the sept if he ever indulged in such things again; Aemond still laughed at the look of pure fear his brother had that day. 

Some have even gone as far as to call Jacaerys the “new” Queen Alysanne, the goodness of the boy and his work to The Realm and it’s people befitting such a title. 

Aemond did not know what to make of this, in a way the boy was very similar to her, but he did not know if he considered himself like King Jaehaerys; let alone his marriage to his nephew being similar to theirs’. 

But forever loyal to his mother he had tried his best to manipulate, then intimidate Jacaerys into bringing back the hold his family had, but the brat was smarter than he thought and stubborn. 

But despite his frequent defeats during Small Council meetings, he found the many debates they had were both frustrating yet exhilarating. He had never connected with someone in such a way as he did with Jacaerys at those times, to be intellectually challenged, to have an opponent that not only kept him on his toes but to share the same enthusiasm and knowledge in the same things he did was something he had never experienced. He might have hated losing, but seeing that satisfied, large smile on his nephew's face after a victory had lit something within him and had always made him come back for more; and with the way Jacaerys beamed whenever he saw him enter the meeting room, it seemed he too looked forward to their many debates. 

Jacaerys presented a challenge, one that Aemond found himself drawn to more and more as time went on.

Additionally, he had begun to notice that his nephew had a habit of consulting him (despite where their loyalties lied) when making decisions or asking for his opinion on matters big and small. Naturally, Aemond hesitated at first, unsure of how to respond to these inquiries, and doubted his nephew's intentions, but with time, it became clear that Jacaerys genuinely wanted to hear his' ideas, beliefs and feelings regarding the Realm.

When he had asked his nephew why he had bothered to seek his counsel, Jacaerys once more had scoffed at him.

“You’re my husband, aren't you? Who else am I to ask for advice on such things? We shall rule the Realm together one day, and it is in our best interest to learn how to work together. Besides, you're one of the few people who can actually keep up with me, let alone actually give me intelligent answers.”  

The fact that Jacaerys didn’t mind the idea of ruling with him, the fact that his nephew found him worthy enough to be his companion and advisor when regarding the kingdom, shocked him. Aemond couldn't help but also be flattered by his nephew's statement; the fact that his opinion for once was  highly valued and sought after was an uncommon occurrence. Even while a small part of him questioned it, doubted Jacaerys, he couldn't help but find it genuine. 

Jacaerys would continue to surprise him and as the year went on, his opinion on the boy began to gradually change (whether he wanted it to or not.) 

The incident of his eye was something that was never acknowledged between the two of them, his nephew being both cautious and smart enough to never bring up such a thing.  

With their marriage and Jacaerys now residing in King's Landing, he had been wearing his eye patch more frequently than he had wished, his boyhood fear of scorn from his nephew rearing its head once more.   

But like all things, he could not keep his fear hidden forever. 

He'd found himself in his quarters; the thick leather of his eye patch had been troubling him all day, and he'd finally gotten the time to remove it, revealing the sapphire he'd usually kept hidden. 

Jacaerys had chosen that exact moment to walk in, getting an eyeful of his new adornment.

Reactions to his eye were always negative, women would usually be frightened by it which caused him to wear his eye patch frequently in court, his mother would still flinch when looking at it and men would grimace at the sight of it, occasionally making an uncouth joke at his expense. 

But Jacaerys did not do any of this, he did not sneer or mock the injury his knife inflicted on him, he didn’t curl away in disgust or bulk with fear; if anything he was curious, his gaze lingering on the sapphire but not enough to be offensive before settling on the rest of Aemond’s face. 

“It suits you.” 

His words were nothing but stoic, his expression neutral, he said nothing more before informing him dinner was ready and then left the room. 

He had anticipated ridicule, disgust even maybe sadness from Jacaerys when he had seen the damage caused to his eye, but he had received none of it.

Looking back at the boy’s reaction, despite being unexpected, it was the closest thing to positivity that his scar and eye had ever received. 

As time went on, he was unsure if Jacaerys attitude was a facade, an unassuming mask for him to lower his guard and be easy to manipulate; regardless of this he had come to appreciate it. Jacaerys, in contrast to the majority of people in the court and his family, had started to regard him as more than a second son, Aegon’s spare or Vhagar’s rider; he actually valued what he had to contribute, not just in terms of politics, but also took the time to value what he had as a person, to notice the tiny things about him that even his own mother overlooked.

When he turned eight and ten, he anticipated the usual fare—a big party with the customary serving of pigeon pie and lemon cake (his mother always insisted those were his favorites); celebrating with the nobles he did not care for and drinking the wine he hated. The majority of the time he had remained at the head of the grand table bored and aching to leave.

Imagine his surprise when a wrapped parcel was placed in front of him along with a simple roast and strawberry cake.

He had looked up then seeing Jacaerys; the younger man’s face was expressionless, but when their eyes met, a faint smile broke out on his face, a tint of fondness in his gaze.

“Happy Birthday, Uncle… I myself prefer lemon cake, but strawberry is also fine.” 

He had walked away then, giving no explanation on how he had come across such intimate details, forever a mystery, forever a contradiction to Aemond.

That night when he had opened the parcel Jacaerys had given him and saw the book on High Valyrian poetry and a softer, lighter eye patch, he had felt his heartbeat quicken. 

Like in court Jacaerys had made a place in his life, he was becoming someone he was used to (someone he looked forward to) a piece that molded perfectly into his small circle. 

(Maybe things could change between them, maybe things could be different.)

Despite Jacaerys giving up on trying to build a friendship, there was no doubt that the two had come to respect one another. 

He wouldn’t deny that there was a part of him that craved the friendship they once had, the desire to go back to the way things were. 

But it was difficult because he still carried resentment over the wrongs that had been done to him in the past; his own injustices, his lack of consolation, the absence of an apology, the sympathy that was not extended to him, and the hatred that his mother had instilled in him made matters worse.

Could they be friends again? Could he trust Jacaerys again?

Jacaerys truly thought so and the fact he still had hope for such a thing from such a scarred man like him made his chest constrict.  

Things were different for him and Jacaerys now. Gone were the days of petty childish pranks and fights, they were not children anymore, children who could be influenced and manipulated by others, that could make their own judgments; they were grown men, they were married.

But that small ugly, dark part of him reared it’s head, spewing the same nonsense of revenge and blood, how his nephew didn’t deserve forgiveness or love, that only he was the victim here, how he should enact revenge on the boy and his family, how only he deserved penitence and retribution from the boy and everyone else who wronged him. 

And then Jacaerys had become pregnant. 

When the knowledge of his nephew’s pregnancy became more of a reality Aemond didn’t know what to think. 

Foolishly he had believed the night they had sex the boy wouldn’t have been able to catch, and they would have to try again at a later time. 

But it seemed the gods loved laughing at him and the Targaryen blood they both carried had thrived inside Jacaerys’ womb.

(A part of him had thrived when he had bedded Jacaerys, seeing his nephew wither and moan underneath him was a sight that was forever burned in his mind, a never ending fire that plagued his every waking moment.) 

At first, he had pretended the boy and his condition didn’t exist, but as his nephew’s belly became more prominent and his symptoms more erratic (and his mother’s constant barking about it) he could not deny the reality of the situation; he was going to have a child. 

Every moment, every instant he would stare, whether it be council meetings or simply passing by one another, his eye would find itself on Jacaerys’ belly, the ethereal glow of pregnancy made him a beacon that he could not stray away from. 

There was also a small part of him that could not help but like the image of his nephew pregnant, the knowledge that his child was inside of him, that he was carrying his child, created a deep sense of satisfaction and achievement. 

And it seemed with the knowledge that his child inside of him also changed Jacaerys, for the boy if anything was elated and tried to involve him in every part of the pregnancy. 

Aemond most of the time was unsure on how to reply to such moments, he would’ve expected Jacaerys to be disgusted in carrying his child, but it seemed his nephew didn’t care about any of that. 

He did not care for their previous animosity or his coldness. Every step of the pregnancy he would involve him in some way. If the child simply kicked, he’d call for him and make him place his hand on his belly. When he grew he would rub his stomach and smile, always commenting on how big the babe was getting and how excited he was to meet them. Every time he visited the maester he would tell Aemond how it went and he would tell him the advice he was given on how to raise their child and even sent him books on the subject. 

He would ask him questions, many questions, if it were to be a boy or girl and which one did he prefer, what should they name their child, (Aegon? Visenya? Viserys?), if the babe would look like him or more like Jacaerys, whose eyes would they inherit and what their personality would be. He would ask him what clothes their baby should wear (what house to represent) and if they should put a dragon egg in their cradle or let them bond with one. 

The boys’ eyes would become so large, so full, a never-ending smile accompanying soft pink lips as he talked and talked. 

After a time he had snapped at the other for his questions, telling the younger man he didn’t care about such things, he had accused Jacaerys of manipulating him, pretending to care for him and their child like he had cared for him in the past, trying to lure him into a false sense of security, trying to play him like the fool he thought he was. 

“You probably want it to look just like you! A doe eyed lying, conniving little snake who does whatever he can to get what he wants!” 

He didn't know what brought about his anger at that time, maybe it was that ugly part of him that he was beginning to suppress, maybe it was the whirlwind of emotions he had been trying to control since things have changed between the two of them; regardless the sooner he had said those words, regret had immediately begun pooling in his stomach. 

Jacaerys had froze after his onslaught, the shock of his face slowly morphing into such a heartbroken expression that Aemond couldn't help but flinch, the guilt now eating him like wildfire. 

Immediately, his nephew had diverted his attention to the ground, his fists clenched at his sides, white knuckled and quivering, Aemond had assumed he had made the boy cry and he was trying to suppress it. 

But when Jace eventually lifted his head, he hadn't cried or even begun to yell at him; his gentle brown eyes were damp as he met his own, the prince meekly responding.

“I don’t want my children to look like me.”

The boy didn’t wait to see his reaction to such a statement, his head lowered again he had swiftly left the room. 

Understandably Jacaerys avoided him after that, respecting his space and keeping his distance; which frustrated him. He should've been happy that his nephew finally left him alone and away from his pointless questions, but there was a part of him that felt guilty for what he said, for hurting him, and another part yearned for Jacaerys’ presence again; which further soured him. 

But he was not the only one who was frustrated.

A week after his little outburst he was visited by his sister, the glare she had on her face was one that would haunt him in his dreams. 

It made sense Helaena would’ve heard about the incident and had come to Jacaerys defense. 

Throughout the days living in his new home, Jacaerys and Helaena had become the closes of friends. 

Jacaerys, in contrast to the others, respected his sister in every manner. He did not approach her without permission, he did not mock her for her cryptic words but instead did his best to comprehend it and understand her, and he was one of the few people who found enjoyment in her company. He frequently took time out of his day to visit Helaena, the two almost inseparable, spending their days reading or strolling through the gardens or simply dinner. He occasionally would spot the two on dragonback; Helaena rarely rode Dreamfrye, but it appeared that the arbor of Jace and Vermax propelled her into the skies. 

Apart from his sister, Jacaerys had spent a lot of time with his niece and nephews (especially more so since becoming pregnant), caring for and loving them as if they were his little brothers. Aemond would often   pass by his sister's room and find the boy cradling one of them, laughing and playing with them. 

His sister was absolutely delighted when their pregnancy was announced; many times he had seen his favorite sibling fawn over Jacaerys growing stomach; the sight always made something flutter inside of him. 

The lecture Helaena gave him made him want to curl in on himself; the shame he had been feeling for the past several days had increased tenfold.

She had lectured him for almost an hour, lecturing him on everything, his marriage, his attitude, and how  cruelly he was treating Jacaerys. 

“I love you brother truly I do, and I do want you to be happy, but the way you’re going on about your marriage is exactly the path to misery that your brother and our mother have instilled in their own. This marriage between you and Jacaerys may not be ideal, but it is better than most. At least our nephew is trying , Aemond.”

Her scowled had softened then, a sad smile taking its place. 

“Jacaerys has been nothing but kind to you since the beginning of this marriage there is no denying that, and you’re a fool for not seeing it.” 

She reached out then, grabbing his hand and squeezing it.  

“Do not be like Aegon, and bring unhappiness to your marriage and life like he has to his own… and mine. Our brother does not bother to get to know me or even visits our children, he only comes when ordered to or when he’s drunk enough; besides that he pretends we don’t exist and tries to find happiness in his cups and brothels, slowly killing himself, slowly trying to escape his life…without knowing, without seeing what he has in front of him the potential of what he could have…And our mother even though she carried some fondness for our father she has seen nothing but their marriage and our family as a duty, an expectation, birthing his children was her duty, becoming queen a duty, yet her repeatedly telling herself to do what is expected of her would produce her own happiness has only suppressed herself and made her miserable, and as much as we can deny it, it has affected us too.” 

A forlorn look flashed across her face then, her eyes conveying so much emotion, so many things left unsaid. 

“We have to make the best of our circumstances Aemond, and due to our birth our fate was never meant to be our own, you must find happiness wherever you can….Jacaerys is trying to make your marriage work, even if you two don’t fall in love, he at least wants some sort of happiness for you and this marriage…and I know you do too. You have never been fully happy in your life….you have Vhagar but at what cost? Losing the love you once had with Jacaerys? Losing a part of yourself? Despite what happened that night he has learned to forgive you and forget the past animosity you two carried, maybe you should do the same….”

Helaena had finally let go of his hand and began heading towards the door, before she had left his room completely she had stopped, glancing back at him, a small smile on her face.

“I have never seen anyone so excited about having a baby before…ever since his pregnancy was announced our nephew has been with me and the children more so than usual, learning, practicing, he's asked me questions so many questions…”

Her smile faltered, making eye contact with him. 

"All I ask of you is to try brother, even if you cannot find affection for Jacaerys at least find some semblance of it, if not for your sake or Jacaerys’ for your child then. Do not be as cruel and uncaring as our brother as our parents have been…”

With that she left. 

He had pondered his sister’s words after that night. 

He was no fool; he knew the marriage between his siblings was anything but happy. He knew Aegon could not stand their sister and her strangeness and his sister knew there was no point in winning affection from him; the fact their marriage was more for power and legitimacy than for love had further cemented the coldness of it. Aegon’s habit of drinking his life away and visiting brothels, fathering bastards further showed what he thought of his marriage and how he viewed his sister, his wife. 

But unlike his siblings’ marriage there was surprisingly a deep sense of respect between Jacaerys and himself, he could not deny that. Jacaerys, unlike his siblings, did not hesitate to talk to him and try to develop a sense of companionship, he respected him as a person and his value. Despite the incident with his eye his nephew did not seem to hold any caution or ill will towards him; forever good and forever selfless he was trying to make the best of their situation, he wanted things to be well between them for the sake of the future they had together and now their child’s.

His sister had been right, he was far different from Aegon, he loved his brother yet detested his means of destroying himself and others in order to bring happiness to his life. He knew his sister only wanted the best for him; she wanted to save him before he ended up like his brother, their mother, like her. 

After the conversation with Helaena, he had spent numerous nights considering what to do and how to make amends with Jacaerys.

On a rather cold day, the chance offered itself.

He hadn't seen Jacaerys all morning and instead had chosen to spend some time reading in the library, the quiet luring him to unwind with the various books  and tomes.

But he was not the only one who had the same idea.

He had found the boy reading, Jacaerys every bit a picture of contentment as he rested comfortably on a chaise near one of the library's many large windows, a book resting on his large belly.

When he heard his footsteps Jacaerys had lifted his head, a small smile on his face when seeing him.

“Ah, just the person I wanted to see”

Without waiting for his response, Jacaerys slowly rose, Aemond suppressing the impulse to walk over and help him.

The younger man approached him, both hands resting on his protruding belly, his soft grin still present, the window’s light illuminating his face, his brown eyes were nearly gold.

Aemond had no doubts then that their child would be fair, Jacaerys had always been comely; the pregnancy had only served to emphasize this. 

When they had last met, he did not anticipate being received with such warmth by his nephew; seeing such a smile directed at him caused him to take an unconscious step back, his eye widening slightly. 

Jacaerys couldn't help but frown when he saw his uncle’s reaction; it seemed that even in his current state, his uncle still felt the need to be cautious around him.

Sighing quietly the prince decided to get things over with, his smile quickly turning solemn. 

"I would like to discuss something with you uncle, and I hope you'll give me the opportunity to tell you it…or at least give me the courtesy of listening."

Jacaerys had shifted to High Valyrian then, the boy only switching to his native tongue when he had something important or secretive to say to him, his gaze set on Aemond's, his face serious and wanting nothing but his uncle's attention and respect, a sight Aemond had seen many times during meetings. 

“I need you to understand something Aemond, about our child and what is to become of them…” Jacaerys waited for him to say anything or protest before continuing, his heart beating steadily. 

"This child...Our child will be completely innocent. I don't want children to live a life filled with hatred and hostility like ours has been, I want our child to have happy one, a better one, one that is not burdened by past misdeeds or judgments; to be burdened with such things, when it is not even their own doing, is unfair to a child, to anyone. We didn't deserve to be subjected to our families past animosities, and I wish to spare our child from it. I hope with their birth peace can be brought within our families and their bitterness may finally cease. I will raise this child to be better than us, and I hope you will do the same. I would do anything to protect them, even against our families, if any of them dare to inflict influence or mistrust over this child as they had done to us, I promise you I will not be as forgiving as some may think.

 He glanced at Aemond then giving him a moment to register his words before continuing, 

“Despite our differences, I need you to realize that this child is as much a part of you as they are a part of me Aemond; there is no denying that truth…I do not ask of you to enjoy this marriage and I do not expect you to try and love me….even like me. All I ask of you uncle…is to love and care for this child as much as I will.” 

The solemnness in his voice had begun to falter at the last part, his voice now becoming soft and possibly desperate? 

As he finished his brown eyes continued to bore into his uncle’s, waiting, anticipating for the older man’s response, hope flickering through them. 

Aemond was at a loss for words, he had no idea how to react to such a statement or even how to comprehend it, let alone know how to answer his nephew’s request. 

He tried to think of something to say—what would be appropriate—as he peered at Jacaerys with wide eyes, but the best he could muster was a protest.

“But I am a green…” his voice was weak. 

At this, his nephew shook his head, carrying a look of disappointment; the sincerity he replaced it with, vehement. 

“I do not care for that, truly I don’t, you may be loyal to your family, just as I will with mine, I just ask that you will love and protect this child and if it comes to it our future ones. I have not even met them yet but everyday I have grown to love our child. I do not care if it is part green or even part of you Aemond, I just know I would give my life for this child…and I have made my peace with that.”  

Aemond, still dumbstruck from Jacaerys words, could only nod then. Because what could he say? 

Since that day his mind had been haunted by those words, by the promise that Jacaerys had asked of him. 

He did not doubt Jacaerys words, he could not; for he was literally beaten by the boy for hurting someone he loved. For people who gained his loyalty and affection—qualities that he and the boy shared—Jacaerys would put his own safety and life in danger. His nephew’s loyalty was fierce and unending and those who received it were fortunate to have such a guardian, (this protection, this love is what he craved when they were children, to be seen as valuable to the boy to be subjected to such loyalty but never granted it, followed him even now.) 

And he was aware that the boy's affection was unbounded and extended to those who didn't deserve it. He didn't have to be kind to his half-siblings (the love he had for Harwin did not cause him to contempt Daemon or his children), he did not need to spend time with Helaena, or care for and play with his niece and nephews, but he did. Jacaerys didn't have to make an effort to get along with him either. The boy was so incredibly good that he didn't care about or notice the rivalry and pain inflicted between their families, and instead of choosing to scorn them all, he had determined which people were deserving of his love and offered it.

He admired Jace as a boy, and still he admired him now, the quick-witted, confident, attentive, honorable, bold boy had grown into a peerless man, and now he hoped such traits would be instilled in their children. 

And he had no doubts that Jacaerys would be a fine mother to his children. He had squandered his chance to win his nephew's affection; his previous attitude and persistent animosity had solidified their relationship; the ache of regret he felt from such loss still haunted him. Despite not capturing Jacaerys' affections, he understood that like his desire of becoming King, the love he had always wanted from the boy would be realized through their child.

When he had made the decision to follow Jacaerys into the birthing chamber he had expected many things, he expected blood, he expected to see the pains and labors of childbirth, the screams, the tears, all of this, but even then he wasn’t prepared for such a horrific scene.

The one thing he did not expect to see however was the strength his nephew carried throughout the birth. 

Due to the smallness of Jacaerys’ frame, the midwife and maester had anticipated giving birth would be difficult for him. For the first half of the first day, he did his best to remain resilient and reduce his cries of pain, his tears; when he found this to be pointless, his nephew had put his efforts on pushing the babe out, straining his body and grasping every piece of advice the midwife had given him. Yet when the first day had passed and there was still no infant, everyone was concerned, and the dread that had grown over the day became more apparent. 

When it was the second day and there still was no progress; he found himself standing next to Jacaerys' bed again, the boy had looked absolutely miserable, his body sweaty and exhausted, his hair in disarray and the place between his legs filthy with blood, his nephew’s face was ashen and worn, but his eyes clear as he regarded the midwife and maester talking in the corner of the room. 

Aemond was no fool he knew what would happen if a mother was unable to give birth to their child, he knew what horrible fate could occur, and he knew what had happened to his father’s first wife.

No one deserved to die in such a gruesome, terrible manner, despite what some people may have believed, he would never be able to do what his father had done, especially to Jacaerys.

After a time, the two had finally finished talking and approached the princes, their faces solemn and grave; but they didn’t get a chance to speak for it was Jacaerys who had spoken first, surprising everyone. Despite a day of labor, a day of nothing but agony, nothing but screaming, the prince’s voice did not waver as he spoke. 

“…..You do not need to hide things from me ...I am very aware of what might happen if I am unable to give birth to my child ... .as much as it frightens me, I understand the importance of this child’s survival, its life far more valuable than mine.”

He paused and looked at the two of them, his face dour and intent. He was doing everything in his power to maintain his composure and convince himself that he was okay with his decision; his voice now strained as he spoke.

“We will try again, and I will try my best to push out my child…but if I am still unable after another day or so…you have my permission to cut me open and bring them out…I just ask that you make it swift and  promise me my child will live past this day and many more.” 

Jacaerys’ voice was nothing but earnest at this request, at his order , his expression just the same as he was basically giving the maester permission to kill him.

When the maester and midwife continued to stare, Jacaerys did not bother to wait for an answer, finding himself turning towards Aemond, his face easing at the sight of him. He stared into his uncle’s own shocked face before sending the man a soft, vulnerable, smile before speaking.

“Aemond…If I am to die in order to have our child, all I ask of you is that you love and care for them, protect them ... .that is all I ask.”

Aemond would never forget that face, the way his nephew looked at him with such sweet softness, his smile small but pinched, the way his eyes were wet with fear, how they begged and pleaded with him to keep his promise. 

His heart had been beating so loudly so rapidly at that moment, the notion that Jacaerys could possibly die, that their child would be without him, that he would be without him had made it ache.

It was then he decided where his true loyalties lied. His nephew was right, this child was a part of him as it was a part of Jacaerys and like with everything so far he had done his duty without hesitation.

Looking down he stared at his son's face, he could already see bits of himself and Jacaerys in the boy, despite being barely born, despite the poor thing wailing its heart out.

A child, a baby, was not meant to bear the weight of other’s choices, to be subjected to such hate and treated so poorly because of things they had no fault in, was another kind of cruelty. 

You'd think his mother would understand the sorrow of Jacaerys, who carried and loved their baby, who endured the challenges of pregnancy, who spent days bleeding and tired, attempting to bring him into this world, but she did not.

He had never felt so worthless or lost as he did when watching his nephew wither and scream for hours, how his body twisted and shook on the bed in front of him, how his every being was strained and filled with agony. 

Never before had he seen someone bleed so much yet still remain alive. 

And when the midwife had told them the babe was stuck, his heart sank. 

But even though the midwife was able to free the baby; the method she took was brutal (childbirth was brutal) and even he was too much of a coward and looked away. 

He had feared for Jacaerys, he feared for their baby, the thought of loosing any of them at that moment was petrifying, but they had made it, they were here, they were alive.

And at that moment he realized he would stop at nothing to protect them, to stop anyone from hurting them; his family.

His family.

 

Making his decision right then and there, Aemond instantly turned back, freezing at the distressing scene that greeted him. 

Jacaerys was still on the ground, his head bowed and sobbing openly; an army of handmaids surrounded him, some trying to soothe him while others mopped up the blood that was seeping between his knees. His shoulders were trembling and the sounds emanating from him were harsh and painful.  

He moved quickly towards his nephew, his husband , holding their son securely in his arms as he kneeled in front of him.

“ Jacaerys- ”

The handmaids quickly moved out of the prince’s way, some of them (specifically Massey) stayed, hovering protectively over the prince and glaring at him. 

He choose to ignore them, slowly, cautiously, he reached out placing a hand on the other’s shoulder, nothing but concern on his features. 

“Jacaerys please you must get up, you’ve already lost so much blood!”

Hearing his name being called Jacaerys finally lifted his head, tearful brown meeting a wide, distressed blue.

“Aemond…”

The raspiness and distress emanating from his nephew’s voice made Aemond flinch, the boy had truly cried his heart out; finding himself staring into those sorrowful, poignant eyes he tried to look reassuring, giving Jacaerys shoulder a squeeze.

“I’m here Jacaerys…”

His nephew simply stared at him, his brown eyes processing everything, ranging from distress, confusion to relief. Those wet brown eyes stared at Aemond before lowering to the infant in his arms, processing that both father and his child were now in front of them, that they were not walking away from him. 

Only Jacaerys' quivering lip served as a warning before he burst into tears again, loud sobs emitting from him, his shoulders shaking harshly.

“Jacaerys!” Aemond’s voice rang out. 

“Aemond, Aemond, Aemond! ...” his nephew wept- begged out his name, those devastated brown eyes boring into his own. His arm reaching out weakly, shakingly towards the babe in his arms.

“ Please… ”  that one word holding all his emotions, that one word conveying everything .

As much as he wanted to hand their son back into his arms, wanting to cease the pain he had inflicted on his nephew; Aemond knew he had to make sure Jacaerys was alright. 

Aemond carefully, quickly handed his son to one of the handmaids, both of his hands grabbing his husband. 

“Jacaerys- here let’s get you up…you need to be checked… gods you’re bleeding so much…”

Aemond helped Jacaerys off the floor, wincing when he saw how red it was with the younger man’s blood; the sight making his stomach twist. 

Jacaerys let himself be handled, having become quiet, but his tears continued to flow, his gaze switching repeatedly from Aemond to their son. 

With Aemond holding him, the maids were quick to change Jacaerys out of his bloodied clothes, wiping the blood and sweat from his skin; and when he was deemed clean enough,  Aemond tenderly helped him back onto the bed. 

When Jacaerys was settled under the new covers his eyes fell on Aemond once more, a soft whimper escaping his lips.

Aemond immediately grabbed their son and handed him over, a crocked, reassuring smile on his face. 

“Here you are Jacaerys… he’s here, he’s not going anywhere, we’re not going anywhere…I promise.”

Barely processing what the older man was telling him; the prince let out a sob of relief as his baby was finally placed back into his arms, a small but happy smile immediately appearing on his face. 

“My baby ” 

He slowly began rocking his son and began humming to him, the babe’s crying instantly ceasing, the smile on Jace’s face growing in response. 

His baby was here, safe and well in his arms. 

The young prince sagged in relief against the many pillows, the constant stress of his body, the stress from the birth and emotions caused from his husband finally catching up to him. 

Aemond unsure of what to do with himself, had sat on the edge of the bed, the sudden event and emotions also affecting him, his gaze remaining on his nephew and son. 

Jacaerys looked up then, feeling the bed dip under the other’s weight, a flash of fear appearing on his face, once more.

“Aemond…” he pleaded softly, his grip on the babe tightening. 

Feeling nothing but guilt and regret wash through him, Aemond shook his head, his one eye meeting Jacaerys’ hoping it conveyed the honesty he carried as he gave the other another weak, reassuring smile.

“I won’t take him away from you Jacaerys, I swear it…I don’t know why I did such a thing but I promise you it won’t happen again…. I’m sorry, truly sorry… you both didn’t deserve that..”

It was suddenly quiet. The room void of all noise and people, the only two being Jacaerys and Aemond.

No words game from his nephew’s lips, only his brown eyes staring into his one, those dark orbs boring into him, searching for any signs of sincerity or deceit.

After what seemed like hours, Aemond watched as those wide brown eyes began to brighten, softened, the fear that had settled in them slowly dissipating with reassurance, he watched as a smile appeared on Jace’s face, small but overflowing with relief and gratitude towards him.

The look was a sudden surprise to Aemond, to see Jacaerys’ face glow with elation after days of anguish made his heart stutter. 

And he was the cause of it. 

Later that night after the maester and midwife had made sure Jacaerys was healed and resting and the baby healthy, the three were finally left alone.

Demands from the Queen were completely and continually ignored, but a promise was given to Viserys that he would see his (great?) grandchild as soon as possible.

Aemond had remained faithfully by Jacaerys side, watching every person, every process that involved his husband and child with a keen eye.  

Jacaerys after much coaxing and begging from Aemond (and Lady Massey) finally gave in and fell asleep, the boy having gone through much, even though it was not recommended, he had demanded his son remain sleeping next to him. 

Now as both mother and child slept soundly next to one another, Aemond still remained dutifully by their bedside, watching the two of them, quietly, protectively.

Despite it being many hours, Aemond couldn’t grasp such a sight or stop admiring it, seeing his nephew resting peacefully with their son was one of the most surreal things he’s ever seen.

Like Jacaerys he had only known their son for a short time and he was already in love with him; the need to protect, the need to care for such an innocent, little thing making his heart quicken and anxiety run through his veins.

But it was all worth it now.. 

He would never let anyone hurt either of them, his dear Jacaerys, his little son, his family.

Slowly leaning forward, Aemond reached out and gently began stroking his son’s face, smiling at the softness of it, he took the time to admire his soft white locks, his rosy cheeks and the soft petals that covered blue eyes, his eyes.

Jacaerys had been right, their son was a spitting image of him. 

Before Aemond would’ve hated the idea of their child looking like Jacaerys, but now he didn’t care, regardless of looks, as long as his son had his mother’s blood that was all that mattered.

He could not wait for their child to grow, to see what kind of person he’d be, he hoped his son would only have the best of both his parents, that their child would not be bound or motivated by hate and revenge like he was. 

Knowing how his parents' marriage, as well as Aegon and Helaena's, turned out, he knew becoming a father and a now spouse would be difficult. But he'd learn from their mistakes and try to mend things with husband, learning to trust each other, raising their child together, and...maybe even grow to have some fondness with one another. And, despite Viserys' and his mother’s best efforts, Aemond would be a good parent to his son, one who would not neglect his children, but would be there to support and love them without prejudice, to not plague them with past jealousies or hatred. 

Removing his hand from his son he reached over and held Jacaerys face this time, stroking the soft skin of his cheek.

The pain he caused his nephew would haunt him forever; but he would try and make it up to him, he hoped if things went well after this night the cruelty he inflicted would soon be smothered by happier, sweeter memories.

As he stared into Jacaerys’ face his hand flattened, and he cupped his cheek, speaking softly to the sleeping boy. 

“On the old gods and new, on the gods of Old Valyria, on my blood and sword, I swear I will protect the both of you, until the end of my days….”