The only sound is that of the torch in my hand, the fire quietly simmering. "I am sorry." I say, breaking the quiet. Aemond looks confused for a moment. "What?" "I'm sorry." I repeat. "About your eye." His face changes at my words, the contempt in his eye flickering, replaced with something else I can't name for a moment. "T'was not you who took it from me." "My brother will not apologize." I say. "I truly am. Sorry." The silence this time is thick with something I can't put words to. Aemond's mirth and annoyance are gone, and for a second it seems that he hasn't changed at all, still the little boy who quietly approached me that day at the funeral looking for someone to talk to. I find myself trapped in his gaze, almost entranced by the soft lavender of his eye, wondering what lies beneath the patch that covers his other. It is his voice, softer than before, that breaks me loose. "Thank you." I smile, my sense returning to me. "Of course." -- Also available on AO3