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[holyposition]

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t.laughlin

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un: koby

[kobes]

[He doesn't even know how to start.]

How's your throat?

[holyposition]

Not perfect, but better.

Don't worry about that right now.

What's going on? The doctors can't tell if it's really Shanks or not?

@lestat

[perfectionner]

You've made yourself an impressive adversary, Mr. Laughlin, if there are those who are trying to kill you.

[holyposition]

Am I supposed to say thank you? I don't want to be an adversary to anyone.

— text | un: jacaerys

[vermax]

It feels a fool’s query to ask if you are well.

If you are in need of anything, even an unbiased ear, I offer it.

[holyposition]

I appreciate the thought anyway, Jacaerys.

Would you mind, actually? Answering a few questions for me? I'm trying to prepare for Hawk coming back.

text — hawk death / koby's great explosion

[longitudinal]

I just heard about Hawk. I'm sorry, things have been -

[ he doesn't need to say it. tim knows how things have been all around. ]

Do you want company? Koby's

[ well. ]

He's going to be okay, but. I want to see you. If you can.

[holyposition]

I know.

[ That he's sorry, that he's scared for Koby, that the gut wrenching chaos never seems to end. ]

I've been at the graveyard. He'll need me when he gets up. But I could come in and warm up for a while.

in person; before the tourneys

[provoke]

[ just an aemond showing up without warning, looking cloudy and gloomy and mean. ]

I needs speak with you. Now. And you're putting your pauldrons on the wrong way, turn around.

[ he's just going to fix it! ]

[holyposition]

[ Well, Aemond being in A Mood can't be a sign of anything good, so he obeys, not especially eager to set him off even more before a contest of swords - it would be nice, if they could get through a party without anyone dying, for once. ]

Oh, sure. Thank you.

[ Some mild streak of concern in his face, noticeable even moreso with his glasses off and with Hawk for safekeeping. ]

What's going on?

@hightower / BACKDATED.

[unapparent]

Tim, where can I find you just now? Is there somewhere quiet nearby?

[holyposition]

I went to Aemond's spare room a few days ago. After...you know.

[ Don't read into that. ]

Are you okay?

— text | un: jacaerys

[vermax]

Has Aemond told you of his upcoming name day?

[holyposition]

He has not. When is it?

delivery, night of 11,14. ( 🤡 )

[provoke]

[ slipped under the door is a plain envelope with a simple invitation card, with a likewise direct message. on the back, written in legible print that is not aemond's handwriting, is a message: gifts not required! your presence is gift enough.

ooc | this is just for ic reference purposes! regarding the age: the hotd age timeline is a pain in the ass so he's just celebrating it twice. feel free to handwave or thread out as desired! 🔥 ]

private | text: HZF

[homosexuals]

Tim. I need your help.

...I'm never doing anything nice for anyone again, by the way.

[holyposition]

Anything. What happened?

text — un: aemond_ ( morning after the bonfire )

[provoke]

I apologise for disappearing last night.

[ he absolutely isn't. if anyone noticed him or pierce suddenly disappearing halfway through the bonfire, that's their business only. ]

Did you have trouble with clearing the bonfire?

[holyposition]

I would have been offended, if Pierce hadn't disappeared at the same time.

Busy day for you. Was it a good one?

text | un: King

[beneficiary]

Fucking my brother, are you?

[holyposition]

Aemond is really important to me. Our relationship has gotten intimate over the last couple weeks, yes.

I regret that it hurt your mother. But not the way I feel for him.

— text

[vermax]

I have seen less of you as of late, Tim. Are you well?

[holyposition]

I'm well, thank you Jacaerys. It's been a busy few weeks, is all.

It's nice of you to check in.

text;

[missed]

Figured I'd give you some breathing room with Hawk back.

You doing alright after everything?

[ now that things seem to be relatively calm for a change. he's not holding his breath. ]

[holyposition]

And I'm thankful, because he sure isn't.

In a good way.

There's always something around here, but I'm making due. What about you?

— text | un: jacaerys

[vermax]

( with no context whatsoever, well past midnight, a single photo. )

[holyposition]

[ ...? it's 2 am, jace... ]

respectfully

I don't need to see that

delivery. ( seventh of december. )

[provoke]

[ he leaves the cake box in tim's room; it is one of the more strongly flavoured option that sanji had left him, but he thinks both tim and hawk would appreciate tasting the contrast of flavours. bitter against sweet against tart; it would be interesting.

on a plain card, written in green ink: ]

To share between you and yours.

[ no name on the card. it shouldn't be too hard to figure this one out. ]

[holyposition]

You understand that means you now, don't you?

early december

[homosexuals]

[it's a chilly afternoon out on the grounds - the kind with enough sunshine to look deceptively enticing despite the plummeting temperatures. it makes hawk think about times he'd spent with lenny and senator smith up at their hunting cabin in delaware, about a trip he'd taken as a kid to virginia with his own father before things had turned tense and soured up. they all feel so far away now, like he can hardly recognize who he was in that time compared to now. maybe it's foolish to think this bliss will last forever - but like he told tim, he'd rather take his chances with the wolves, literally.

besides - his christmas cheer is infectious, and even if he's starting to get a little tired of hearing this mariah carey broad shrieking from the speakers connected to tim's ipod on a loop, the absolute delight it brings him to decorate their room and babble excitedly about the gifts he has planned for their friends makes hawk's chest bloom with fondness. (love.) his own gift has been a complicated endeavor - hidden under the guise of insisting he's got to hunt to try and make a few handmade gifts of his own and spend time in the lodge. that's partly true, only it's not hunting he's doing. it's wood cutting, it's redecorating, it's interior renovations on the now-abandoned chapel that's been tainted with death and blood and nightmares. he knows tim misses it, especially now that his prayer circles in the woods or...whatever he was doing with alicent have been split from their recent aemond-based schism.

it's not much, but it is a gesture he can feasibly make and hope to let him know that just like god supposedly forgives all sin, sometimes a little coat of paint and faith makes for a fresh start.

today though, he's got on a fur-lined suede coat over a turtleneck and scarf, black leather gloves on his hands and a tinge of pink to his cheeks already. he's just come from outside, but...]

Hey Skippy.

[hawk leans against the door frame, one arm up in a casual support as he offers a soft, endeared smile at tim in a cozy sweater and sucks tucked under his knees while he pores over a christmas list.]

Put on a coat and come outside with me. I think this place needs a little more Christmas spirit. Think you should be the one to pick the tree we're gonna put in here.

Re: early december

[holyposition]

[ Tim almost doesn’t notice when Hawk approaches. It’s not that he wants to ignore him, anything but that! It’s just that there’s so much to do, so many things to plan, recipes for Christmas cookies that have to be picked out and test run, gifts to figure out. What does one get for an immortal vampire that doesn’t eat real food or get cold? Or a king that he doesn’t particularly like in the first place? 

He’s trying to figure these things out when Hawk approaches, staring down at a notepad full of brainstorming ideas while tapping the clicky end of a pen against his lower lip. It takes him a second to tear his eyes away and towards Hawk, but he can’t hide his smile the second he does. The impulse sparks to invite him into bed to warm up, breathe hot onto the tip of his nose until it’s no longer pink, but-- ]

A Christmas tree?

[ Eyes lighting up, even if he sounds somewhat incredulous. It’ll be some labor to get it through the grounds and up three floors...but he springs up from the bed anyway, flitting off to the closet to find a hat. ]

How high is this ceiling? Eight feet? Should we bring a measuring tape? 

[ He chooses a ridiculous one. ]

text | un: HZF

[homosexuals]

Hey honey?

What would you say if, hypothetically, I thought that Prince Jace was trying out a few moves. On me.

A few moves from your repertoire, actually.

[holyposition]

[ He's sitting with Koby at dinner today. Hawk can still probably hear him choke. Please hold. ]

I would say to shut it down. What??? What is he doing?

forward dated to Christmas

[beneficiary]

( When Christmas time rolls around, Tim will find a wrapped gift left at his doorstep. The wrapping is a little rough, the wrapping paper breaking the Hightower mold as Aegon opts to go for black and gold (his own emblem colours). Inside Tim will find a green and gold blank journal, along with an ink and quill set. Attached is a small neatly written note. )

Laughlin. Many would consider my knowing their name a gift in itself. However that is not the custom here, and it is only correct that I follow such things. I hope the Confessor Claus judges you truly when the evening falls.

- Aegon Targaryen. King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men. Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.

delivery, morning of the 25th.

[provoke]

[ aemond isn't in the habit of seeing how his gifts are received; too much room for humiliation in the act of it. he avoids giving gifts, as is, but this holy day is a meaningful one to tim's faith, and he knows he will not face such a shame in his giving of this — but this one feels a touch overstepped into territory he should not have.

he leaves on tim's bed a green jewelry box that contains within an ornate rosary: each bead is a green crystal, each link hand-wrought, each pendant painstakingly hand-carved. it is a length enough to be worn as a necklace, if tim prefers.

separate from the rosary, tucked into the top cover pocket where a jeweller's label typically would be, is a commemorative coin of saint timothy of ephesus. his patronage includes guiding youths through troubled times in their lives — a fitting saint for his tim.

aemond doesn't leave a note. he's confident tim will know. ]

🎀 ❨ fwd-dated to xmas eve! ❩

[ruralize]

[ Dawn isn't entirely sure what kind of gifts Tim would actually like for Christmas — she just doesn't know him well enough yet! — so this is all a bit of a gamble, but oh well; better that than neglect, she figures— or, well, she hopes, anyway.

She drops off a little basket by her door on Christmas Eve, containing a small wrapped parcel with about half a dozen nativity-shaped gingerbread cookies (including a token Mary and Joseph, just for the Catholic boy), some local goods she probably picked up at the marketplace (such as a pine and woodsmoke-scented candle, a chocolate orange, a book of knitting patterns for beginners, and a nice pair of carved needles), and a matching, hand-knitted scarf and beanie. A sparkly card dangles off a red ribbon tied to the basket, bordered with silver, gold, and pink glitter around words written in pink gel-pen:

Merry Christmas, Mr. Laughlin! ☺︎
—Love from Dawn Lamb

(Complete with a miniature candy-cane taped to the bottom of the card.) ]

[preborns]

[Alia’s gift is wrapped somewhat clumsily in brown paper, likely taken from the kitchens, and taped excessively to ensure it’s secure. Inside, resting in sparkly, star-studded tissue paper:

A pair of socks, to keep away the chill.

A smooth-polished rock from the lake (yes, everyone gets a rock) with the gift-receiver’s initials carefully carved into it (with what? Don’t worry about it.)

A business card for Sol & Scroll, because if you aren’t patronizing it, you should be.

There’s also a note, scribbled on notebook paper stolen from Alina (sorry, babe):]

Tim -

I forgave you long ago.

Merry Christmas.

[Then, in Alia's best handwriting:]

Adeste Fideles laeti triumphantes,
Veníte, veníte in Bethlehem.
Natum vidéte, Regem Angelorum:

Veníte adoremus,
Veníte adoremus
Veníte adoremus Dóminum

🎁 — 24/12.

[unapparent]

[ On Christmas Eve, the manor staff kindly deliver the gifts Alicent prepared for family and friends. For Tim,
— The rosary he gave her when they first prayed together.
— Wrapped neatly, a sturdy box, containing a book and labelled fragile.
— Attached, he’ll find an envelope sealed with emerald wax, fine paper stock addressed in Alicent’s elegant hand. ]

Tim,

When I found this at the faire, I still thought us friends. Mine own mistake, not yours.

I return it and your rosary to you, for I have no need of them.

Queen Alicent Hightower

text ( december 16th, before aegon's post. )

[provoke]

[ there is no easy way to phrase this, and truthfully, aemond doesn't want to try. he's sore and injured and hurting, and he's tired. ]

Alicent is dead.

No one's allowed to see her as she is, per the Faith, but you can come if you like.

[holyposition]

[ Tim reads it. And then reads it again. And then hits the call button. ]

What?

[ Breathless, like he's been punched in the gut. The whole world tilts with the news, not unlike when Alicent herself delivered the news about Hawk. Despite the new rift between them, despite him choosing Aemond's feelings over hers, and all her anger and judgement, he has no less love for her than he did before. She didn't believe it, but she didn't have to. ]

What--who-- where are you? What happened?

[ He chokes on the last word, a failure to suppress a sob. ]

text; un: koby

[kobes]

You're with her? And Aemond?

How bad is it?

[holyposition]

I'm with them in Aegon's room. I'm not allowed to see the body. It's part of her faith.

He said she was gored. So it's bad.

🎁 delivery, 12/24

[kobes]

[The gift comes wrapped meticulously in paper that, while not strictly holiday-themed is nevertheless very appropriate, considering who it’s from. The gift is inside, nestled in pale blue tissue paper:

An assortment of candied fruit, nuts and chocolates from the faire, for those of his friends who actually eat. For those who don’t, this portion of the gift is replaced with a simple calendar.

For Tim, a watch with a leather band, to match Hawk’s. On the inside of the band, in that same scalloping font: H.F. Additionally, there’s an only-slightly-tacky rosary.

The note, on thick, cream-colored card stock, is in a somewhat wobbly, but earnest hand:]

Tim -

Don’t worry, I know you have to get it properly blessed in order to use it – I think there might be exceptions made if you’re trapped in a house with no access to a church, though? Let me know if there’s anything in the Bible about that.

I wouldn’t want to be trapped with anyone else, though, as embarrassing as that may sound. I can’t imagine this place without you – I don’t think I would’ve survived. If we ever escape and go home, I hope we remember. I hope you can bring these things along and remember me, sometime. Remember that I’m proud of you, and I love you. Remember how brave I can see you being. Remember that you’re worthy of happiness and safety and love. Okay?

Merry Christmas.
-Koby

P.S. Also please tell me if it’s in bad taste to give couple-y gifts – I’m still learning all the Christmas rules. :)