#softaemond

i love u..... oh em gee.........

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sounds of clinking metal and labored breaths filled the quiet chambers. Aemond Targaryen, though known for his stoic nature and fierce battle skills, now found himself struggling, blood trickling down from a wound across his side. His usually composed demeanor wavered as he leaned heavily against the doorframe, the exertion from the day’s skirmish catching up to him.

His remaining eye was narrowed in pain, and his breath came in shallow gasps. He'd been in worse fights, certainly, but today had been a brutal reminder of his mortality. As the door to his chambers creaked open, you stepped inside, your heart skipping a beat at the sight of him.

"Aemond..." you breathed, rushing forward to catch him before he crumpled entirely. "What happened?"

He gave a slight tilt of his head, offering a tired smirk despite the agony. "A minor setback. Nothing you need to worry about."

"Nothing I need to worry about? Aemond, you're bleeding!" you exclaimed, gently guiding him to the nearest chair. Your hands moved instinctively, trying to remove his armor, though he grimaced at the pressure.

"Slowly," he grunted, wincing as you began unbuckling the chestplate. "I can manage... just... need a moment."

You paused, taking a steadying breath. His pride often kept him from asking for help, but you knew better. Carefully, you slid the armor straps loose, each movement deliberate to avoid causing him further pain. Aemond’s expression softened at your tenderness, his features relaxing as you removed the heavy chestplate and then the leather tunic beneath it.

“Don’t think I’m helpless,” he muttered, though his voice lacked its usual sharpness. “I can still manage on my own.”

You smiled at his words, gently pressing a cloth to the wound on his side, dabbing at the blood. "You can manage just fine, but not with this." You raised an eyebrow, brushing a lock of hair out of his face as you tended to him. "Besides, what kind of lover would I be if I didn’t care for you?”

His lips twitched into the smallest of smiles, and despite the pain, he allowed himself to lean into your touch. His hand found yours, his fingers warm despite the cold edge of the wound.

"You never fail to surprise me," Aemond murmured softly, the words laced with an unspoken gratitude. "I didn't think you’d... care so much."

You gazed at him, brushing the damp strands of hair from his face. "I care about everything that makes you, well, you."

Aemond’s eyes softened with a quiet affection as you gently worked to remove his boots, your actions slow and thoughtful as you treated him with the care he seldom allowed from others. The silence between you was comfortable, filled only with the faint sounds of his breath and your soothing whispers.

Finally, when you had tended to the wound, cleaning it and wrapping it carefully, you sat next to him, your hand gently resting on his knee. Aemond, though still wincing slightly from the pain, looked at you with an expression that spoke volumes. "Make sure to have the maester tend to that.."