Work Text:
Aemond stared out of the window as the train wove its way through the countryside. He still had another two hours before it would arrive at his station. He turned to the empty seat beside him, the one that was supposed to be occupied until the evening before. He stared at the grey, rough, cloth, at his bag on the seat where a person was supposed to be, leaning on his arm, pointing at the window and telling him how much they hated night trains. He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to the cold glass, slowly breathing in and out.
His wallet was still open on his lap, the little slot with the clear plastic viewing window still displaying the picture from the first family vacation you had joined them on. You were standing on the beach behind the summer house, a brisk wind was throwing your hair all over the place while your dress tried to run from you. Your eyes were squinted, and your hands were all over the place trying to neaten yourself up, but your mouth was open from laughing and he could almost hear the sound in the silent train. He closed it and slipped it back into his pocket.
He took out his phone and glanced at the time again, one hour and fifty minutes to go. There was a voicemail left on his phone, Arryk Cargyll. The news must have spread, he thought. Arryk hadn’t been at the party, but surely he must have heard by now. Aemond pressed on the notification and brought the phone to his ear.
“Aemond, hi, hey, sorry I missed you. I was just calling to, um, I guess I was just calling to make sure you’re ok. I… I heard about what happened and… I’m sorry, brother. I know it’s still fresh and all but honestly, good riddance for you, you know? Imagine you found out later and… yeah. Look, don’t be a stranger, if you need to talk, you have my number and just- yeah. Call me if you ever need to talk.” Even after the beep, Aemond kept the phone to his ear. He wasn’t quite sure if he had the strength in his arm to return it to his pocket.
He kept going over the events of that evening. While a million questions ran through his head, he couldn’t quite get himself past the hows. How had he been so blind? How had everything changed so quickly? How… how could you have done that?
Aemond could feel the pain building in his chest again and he clenched his hand around his phone, hitting it against the side of his head once. Twice. Three times. The inside of his head felt shaken, but nothing else had changed. He could still hear the voices murmuring and whispering in shock from the other room as he paced in the hallway pulling at his own hair and chewing at his lip until it bled.
Aemond took a deep, shuddering breath in and cursed at himself under his breath when he felt the sudden pin prick of tears behind his eyeballs. He hated the feeling of tears, the little burn, how when you tried to push them away they only chased more. He looked at his reflection in the window, the sudden appearance of purple smudges under his eyes and the puffiness that made him look like he had been in a fight a few days prior. He supposed he had been, though it wasn’t physical.
He remembered how fresh he had looked in the hours before the party, how elated. His eyes had been shining as he got ready an hour before the two of you would need to leave. He had been smiling when he came into the living room to harangue you about getting ready in time. You had been curled up on the couch in his apartment, watching some trashy reality tv program you enjoyed that he found insufferable (but still sat down to watch any time you asked). You turned your head to look behind the couch where he stood just inside the entrance to the living room. Your smile widened, a little laugh coming out of your lips as you watched him adjust his cuffs.
“Someone’s excited for the party,” you joked, pausing the TV and getting up to walk over to him and take his wrist from his own grip. Carefully, you pulled the cuff forward a little and helped him set the little dragon-shaped cufflinks you had bought him for his last birthday. You did the same to the other sleeve before patting his hand and then reaching up to press a kiss to his cheek lovingly. “I’ll go get ready, but we still really need to work on getting you to chill out and go with the flow.” He had scoffed but smiled watching you walk away.
He had been excited for the party because he knew something you didn’t. He reached inside his coat and touched the inside pocket just to make sure the little box was still there before sitting down on the couch to wait for you.
Aemond had bought you a new dress for the occasion, a beautiful silky thing that shined in the light and was his favourite shade of green. He had told you that his mother was throwing this party, and of course you had believed him because his mother only ever needed the bare minimum reason to throw an elaborate party. You had also allowed him the dress simply because you knew how picky Alicent could be, and it was safest to follow Aemond’s direction on occasions that involved her. If she hated the dress, she could blame her own son (which she would never do because Aemond was her darling). He had been counting on all this to deviate suspicion.
Though you always looked radiant in his eyes, he thought you looked particularly beautiful that evening when you waltzed out of the bedroom and back into the living room, hurrying a little because you had taken too long perfecting your makeup and if the two of you didn’t leave within the next five minutes you would be late (again). He had stopped you at the door once you finished awkwardly bouncing to try and get your heel properly on. You had looked at him with furrowed brows, beginning to mumble about how you needed to leave ASAP but he simply leaned forward and kissed you, long and slow. You had smiled airily up at him, eyes sparkly and dazed as you asked him what that was for.
“Nothing,” he had responded with a shrug, pulling the door open and ushering you out.
When the two of you had arrived, the party was already quite full of people. He kept your arm threaded through his as the two of you moved further into the room, leaning in a little to listen to all the compliments you offered his mother on the decoration for the party, how the colour scheme included all your favourites and that the decor was exactly how you would have done it. He wondered if you had caught on yet, that everything had been chosen for you, but the seemingly blank look on your face told him he was safe thus far.
His mother had sent the invitations out saying that it had been much too long since close family and friends had gotten together (despite Aemond distinctly remembering an all too similar party the month before) but he knew it was the only viable explanation as to why all your friends and his family were in attendance together. He appreciated Alicent’s efforts regardless.
When the two of you had reached the centre of the room, Aegon had appeared, glass in hand and already red in the cheeks as he wrapped his arm around Aemond’s shoulders.
“Hello you crazy kids! How’s your evening going then?” The two of you flinched at Aegon’s volume, quickly shushing him and making little motions with your hands to get him to quiet down. Aemond could see you frantically looking around to make sure no one noticed Aegon’s behaviour and he felt his entire body flush with embarrassment.
“Fine, Aegon,” he sighed, firmly pressing Aegon’s forearm to the table to steady him so he no longer spilled champagne over the edge. “Please tell me you are not already drunk. It just hit nine in the evening.”
“I am not drunk,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes so exaggeratedly that for a moment Aemond wondered if they would get stuck in the back of his head. “Though I am definitely tipsy,” he whispered loudly, as if it was in any way conspiratorial, and Aemond just shook his head, letting go of Aegon’s arm so he could wrap his own around your waist and guide you away. He would not let Aegon ruin anything.
The evening wore on, and despite one odd interaction with Helaena in the corner of the room proffering a spider to you, the two of you were able to relax and even enjoy the company of your friends. Just before eleven, when people were beginning to get tipsy but no one had reached their peak of drunkenness yet, he felt Alicent tap him on the wrist and gesture with her eyes. He nodded, clearing his throat as the lights brightened a little and the music quieted down. He was hoping you couldn’t feel how quickly his heart had begun to beat as he picked up his knife and gently began tapping on the side until the people in the hall had quieted down.
You were looking at him now, he could see the confusion and something akin to panic in your eyes that made him want to pause. He continued on anyway, putting the knife down and gently grasping your hand as the people around you turned and moved back a little so you two were in a little circle and everyone could look at you. He put his flute of champagne down on the table beside the two of you and moved you away from it a little bit. His hands were a little clammy as he grasped yours but he hoped you would forgive him that bit later.
“I must admit, there is an ulterior motive to this party. While it is wonderful to have all our family and friends gathered here, there is a reason for this other than to simply see you all.” He smiled, something brighter than ninety percent of the people had ever seen him display before as he turned back to you and looked into your eyes. You weren’t smiling.
Slowly, Aemond got down onto his knee in front of you, one hand grasped in yours while the other pulled a little box out of his coat pocket. A hushed gasp went through the room, but he kept his eyes on you, a little watery as he let go of you to pry open the box and hold it up to you. It was Alicent’s ring, the one Viserys had given to her, a big shiny ruby inlaid with emeralds. He could see your hands shaking, your lips quivering. While he never enjoyed seeing you cry, he felt a little accomplished making you so happy you couldn’t contain it.
“I have loved you from the moment we met. I have loved you-”
“I’m sorry Aemond,” you whispered, and with a whirl of green fabric you were turning and pushing through the crowd to run out of the room.
He was frozen. He couldn’t quite understand what was going on. Were you playing a joke on him? Were you about to turn around and laugh hysterically and yell that you accepted? The crowd began to murmur and you did not return.
Carefully, Aemond stood up. He was still staring at the little space in the crowd which you had run through. He deposited the ring on the table beside him and then walked out after you. He couldn’t quite hear anything. He wasn’t even sure if he could see what was in front of him, but he found his way through the halls of the manor and ended up at the door where you were frozen just outside the exit.
It was early enough that there were no stragglers from the party in the driveway and late enough that no snooping neighbours were at the gates. You were standing with your foot out over the ground as if you were torn between continuing and staying and he could see how harshly you were pressing your hand to your mouth. When you heard Aemond’s footsteps behind you, you turned and he could see the tears streaming down your cheeks, the blood vessels shooting through the whites of your eyes.
“Why?” It came out on a breath, easy to confuse with the simple whoosh of air leaving lungs.
“Aemond, I’m so sorry I-”
“Why?” It was louder this time, firmer.
“Aemond. Are you seriously asking me that?” You frowned, pressing one hand to your forehead as you breathed in and out heavily.
“Yes. Yes I am seriously asking you that.” He was angry now, hands clenched into fists, chest tight, jaw working back and forth as he glared at you. “I thought you fucking loved me.”
“I do! I do love you, it’s- it’s not just about that-”
“What the fuck does that mean? I’m asking you to marry me, what the fuck else is it about?”
“Everything, Aemond! Every. Fucking. Thing. Do you want me to be truly honest with you about why I cannot marry you?” You looked incredulous, enraged, your eyes were glossy and your eyebrows scrunched together so harshly he could see new wrinkles forming on your forehead.
“Yes, please, that would be much fucking appreciated,” he spat.
“How can you be so blind?” You mumbled, staring at him quietly for a moment. You slapped your hand against your own forehead three times as if you were trying to shake your head loose. “Aemond, you are a product of your family, which means you don’t understand that the environment your entire family has created is so fucked up that knowingly entering into it by marrying you would be condemning myself to hell.” You held up your hand and began counting off on your fingers.
“Your mother thinks I’m some poor charity case you’ve picked up for yourself and as soon as you are bored with me you’ll throw me out and move on to better, richer options. She called me Poverty Penny to my fucking face as if it was my real name! Your father has never once checked into reality since your half-sister’s mother died, and oh, yeah! The entire fucking feud you all have with her and her family! Your brother is a next-level alcoholic who should be in rehab but you all refuse to acknowledge that he has a problem. Your sister genuinely needs therapy and-” you paused. Your eyes were wide and wild and you stared at him.
“And?” He breathed out. His arms felt weak, like all his muscles had atrophied and he was standing only through sheer will. “And me?”
“Aemond…” you whispered. You almost stepped closer, almost reached out, but you curled back into yourself, closing your eyes as more tears spilled like a river overflowing onto its banks. “Aemond, that’s only the third time you’ve ever actually said you love me. Every time we try to talk about something emotional or have an argument about something other than money you shut down or you get angry.” You blinked open your eyes, your voice was watery and clogged. “Aemond, you are good. You can be so loving, and kind, and sweet. But… I can’t marry you.”
Everything was quiet. The world held its breath.
“I thought you loved me,” his voice was small. It was the voice of a child being abandoned.
“I do.”
“Just not enough.” You didn’t respond.
The two of you stood there for another five minutes saying nothing. He stared past you into the darkness of the night and you pressed your hands to your face and cried into your palms. A car beeped somewhere in the distance and you finally dropped your hands to your sides. You looked up at him, at the way his face had fallen back into that stoic, grey look he got when he didn’t want anyone to know what he was thinking. He hadn’t used it when alone in your company for a long time.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, then you gathered the skirts of your dress and briskly walked down the driveway, pulling your phone out of your clutch and calling someone as you reached the gate.
Aemond stood at the door of the manor for another ten minutes, staring into the darkness beyond the house. He could feel each of his muscles, each thread of tendon and bone that created his body. Slowly, like a wooden doll controlled by invisible hands, he turned on his heels and walked back into the manor. He took the same steps he had used to chase after you, and the door to the ballroom was still open.
People had broken off into little groups and milled around, still sipping on champagne but leaning in to speak in little whispers and murmurs. When he re-entered the room, everyone turned to look at him. He could feel the eyes of the crowd on him as he walked toward his family and the little area he had once kneeled in.
Based on the way Aegon glared at the wall, Helaena stared into her glass of champagne, and the look his mother always got when she dissociated, he guessed that everyone had heard the conversation between you two. He forgot that the windows on one end of the ballroom faced onto the drive. He walked to the table and picked up the ring box.
“She said no,” he stated to the room, snapping the ring box closed and depositing it into his pocket before turning on his heel and walking back out of the room again.
+++
In the hours after the incident, people hurriedly left the party. When only the inner circle was left, gathered in the sitting room around the fireplace, drinking their way through all the champagne that had been ordered for the event, Aemond listened to them discuss everything from his seat on a stone bench pressed to the side of the house in the gardens. He listened to his grandfather say what a shame it was that you were absolutely mad, you would have made such a lovely bride. He listened to his mother call you every colourful name in the book, that she had always known what a horrible little witch you were. He listened to Aegon make jokes about the evening and then listened to Alicent yell at Aegon and tell him to stop being such a disappointment. He listened to Helaena mumble something about how female praying mantises bite the head off their male counterpart when they finish mating. He watched Daeron’s shadow leave the room.
Now here he sat on the train back to the city. It should’ve been a fun train ride, the two of you giggling and staring at the ring on your hand, kissing and telling each other how truly in love you were. You should’ve been covered in the glow of your happiness. Instead he felt himself going slowly mad in the silence.
Just as Aemond was about to pocket his phone and press his head to the window again, it buzzed in his hand. Your contact name was still ‘my love <3’ on his phone.
1 new message from my love <3
“One day you’ll find someone that will keep holding onto your hand when you get down on one knee. You’ll find someone who deserves that ring and makes you so immensely happy, that you’ll forget all about my champagne problems.”