Tim Laughlin (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
holyposition) wrote2024-06-13 06:55 pm
holyposition) wrote2024-06-13 06:55 pm
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WELCOME TO THE SALTBURNT NETWORK
USERNAME:
t.laughlin
text ❖ audio ❖ video
WELCOME TO THE SALTBURNT NETWORK
USERNAME:
t.laughlin
text ❖ audio ❖ video
Ha, no worries. It's a very specific kinda thing.
I hope so too.
I hope so too.
[ If her womanhood is not at fault, then it must be the fact of her. Queen Alicent Hightower, cold in her sentencing of the guilty or mad in her pursuit of justice — womanly afflictions, true, but the realm’s delight would never be so cruel, nor would Good Queen Aemma, ever so sickly and sweet. Her back straightens, her nails bite the vulnerable skin of her palm (a Queen’s flesh, uncalloused and unworked), her eyes flash, meeting Tim’s despite her desire to remain aloof.
But Tim says Hawk, names his love and himself as the root of this bloodshed, this pain, and she — everything shifts, the terrain as unsteady as the deck of a ship, chasing the tide. She watches him curl inward, self flagellating for her benefit or his punishment. Both, perhaps.
She rearranges her features into neutrality, even as she traces the pained lines in Tim’s face. Unsaid: I do wonder if Hawk told the Lady Greer or if he informed Ash alone. A comment on the nature of women’s involvement in this, meant for Hawk and Ash, not Tim. She doubts it. Greer had not seemed angry at the funeral, merely sad. Men don’t always exclude women intentionally; they also do it unthinkingly, by never considering them in the first place. ]
[ sharply, ] Your choices damned Alina twice-over. [ the hurt slips into her voice, held back by a need to be strong for all but herself until now. ] And Rhaenyra, if our theory about wolves striking again proves true.
[ She lets that sit, punishing. If Danny stalked Alina in the maze, he likely took Rhaenyra from this world when Paul protected his initial target. The two most important women in this place, in her life, jeopardised by the selfishness of men. She cannot forget it, however much she yearns to reach Tim now and soothe his hurts. His love may have cost Alicent her own, no matter how sorry he feels for it. Everyone is always sorry after the fact, aren’t they? ]
I would not call that a compromise.
[ For who benefitted but Hawkins Fuller and Danny Johnson? I don’t know how to say no to him conjures a few unflattering comparisons in her mind. No, Hawk is not so cunning as her father, or as wicked as her councillor. He’s only a man, grieving as she was when she crowned her son before the eyes of gods and men. A prideful, foolish man. And Tim — good, but corruptible, like any other. Hadn’t she bent her most gallant knight to her desires just the same? ]
What would you say now, if I had done this to you? [ Paul asked her that, too, as if they might deny each other when they so badly want for closeness. ] If Hawk and Koby or Quentin had been attacked, as mine were, and I knew who wielded the blade. If I knew and said nothing.
[ They only cared when it was Tim.
Her nails break skin, and the pain in her hand numbs her heart enough that she does not take the words back immediately or beg forgiveness. Alicent holds her ground. ]
But Tim says Hawk, names his love and himself as the root of this bloodshed, this pain, and she — everything shifts, the terrain as unsteady as the deck of a ship, chasing the tide. She watches him curl inward, self flagellating for her benefit or his punishment. Both, perhaps.
She rearranges her features into neutrality, even as she traces the pained lines in Tim’s face. Unsaid: I do wonder if Hawk told the Lady Greer or if he informed Ash alone. A comment on the nature of women’s involvement in this, meant for Hawk and Ash, not Tim. She doubts it. Greer had not seemed angry at the funeral, merely sad. Men don’t always exclude women intentionally; they also do it unthinkingly, by never considering them in the first place. ]
[ sharply, ] Your choices damned Alina twice-over. [ the hurt slips into her voice, held back by a need to be strong for all but herself until now. ] And Rhaenyra, if our theory about wolves striking again proves true.
[ She lets that sit, punishing. If Danny stalked Alina in the maze, he likely took Rhaenyra from this world when Paul protected his initial target. The two most important women in this place, in her life, jeopardised by the selfishness of men. She cannot forget it, however much she yearns to reach Tim now and soothe his hurts. His love may have cost Alicent her own, no matter how sorry he feels for it. Everyone is always sorry after the fact, aren’t they? ]
I would not call that a compromise.
[ For who benefitted but Hawkins Fuller and Danny Johnson? I don’t know how to say no to him conjures a few unflattering comparisons in her mind. No, Hawk is not so cunning as her father, or as wicked as her councillor. He’s only a man, grieving as she was when she crowned her son before the eyes of gods and men. A prideful, foolish man. And Tim — good, but corruptible, like any other. Hadn’t she bent her most gallant knight to her desires just the same? ]
What would you say now, if I had done this to you? [ Paul asked her that, too, as if they might deny each other when they so badly want for closeness. ] If Hawk and Koby or Quentin had been attacked, as mine were, and I knew who wielded the blade. If I knew and said nothing.
[ They only cared when it was Tim.
Her nails break skin, and the pain in her hand numbs her heart enough that she does not take the words back immediately or beg forgiveness. Alicent holds her ground. ]
Edited 2024-10-24 21:43 (UTC)
Trust me, it'd be more insulting if they decided you weren't worth the effort of killing.
I wouldn't be insulted. Who thinks like that?
People who know how to play this game, among others.
Knowing how to play this game isn't an accomplishment. It's dark and hurtful even if you win.
And that is precisely the point. To sow division, to lead us to regard each other with suspicion, if not outright hostility.
When I speak of survival, that is what I mean. You cannot give them the satisfaction of breaking you.
When I speak of survival, that is what I mean. You cannot give them the satisfaction of breaking you.
I won't.
[ He will. ]
Why are you giving me a pep talk while Louis is in prison?
[ He will. ]
Why are you giving me a pep talk while Louis is in prison?
Because Louis is in prison, and I am limited in the number of hours I am allowed to spend outside his cell.
[ and because he doesn't want to run into armand if he can help it. ]
No one would ever accuse me of giving a pep talk, you know.
[ and because he doesn't want to run into armand if he can help it. ]
No one would ever accuse me of giving a pep talk, you know.
[Tim says these things, all these aching, terrible things, but he curls his hand into Koby’s and that’s something. That’s a tether, an anchor, a line that’ll keep them both on earth (he hopes, he hopes). The turmoil on Tim’s face is above all familiar, that realization that nothing is simple, nothing is either wholly terrible or wholly pure, no matter how much they try. It’s all a snarled, tangled, painful web that keeps stretching out and out and out. Spider, Aemond had called Koby. Weak, useless, pathetic little coward, someone else had. Are those the only two options?]
I lied to you too. [Softer, reminding Tim, both hands covering the one he’s been given, scarred knuckles and callused palms.] Or – misled you, at least. I sat in your room and listened to you debate and I never mentioned that Usopp had seen anything. I told my crew about Alexei, about his world because I was afraid of him, and it hurt people who were innocent. I – named Louis, who’s been nothing but kind and wonderful to me, and I voted for him to be taken down to a prison where at least one person’s died.
[A long beat, a look downward at their joined hands, an audible swallow.] At home I was – in charge of cleaning up after executions. On the ship. I’d stand there and watch while Alvida beat someone’s head in. I’d listen to them beg and cry for their lives and I’d do nothing. Just – wait until they were just smears of blood on the deck. And then I’d mop it up and wait for the next one. [He inhales, leaning a little closer, pressing his shoulder to Tim’s, like he needs the support.] If you’re a coward, I’m a coward. If there’s blood on your hands, there’s so, so much more on mine.
[It’s out there, raw and aching and bleeding, and Koby’s head is swimming, throbbing from the strain of it, from the urge to bolt, to press the terrible terrible things he’d done back into the box in his head, pretend it’s not there. Pretend that story and all the other things he’d done or had done to him never happened. But he looks up, instead, teary-eyed and stricken and so, so tired.] Or – maybe we’re both just seeing how much we can live with. How much suffering we can cause, indirectly or not, and still keep getting up in the morning and trying to be good people.
I don’t know, Tim. I'm sorry.
I lied to you too. [Softer, reminding Tim, both hands covering the one he’s been given, scarred knuckles and callused palms.] Or – misled you, at least. I sat in your room and listened to you debate and I never mentioned that Usopp had seen anything. I told my crew about Alexei, about his world because I was afraid of him, and it hurt people who were innocent. I – named Louis, who’s been nothing but kind and wonderful to me, and I voted for him to be taken down to a prison where at least one person’s died.
[A long beat, a look downward at their joined hands, an audible swallow.] At home I was – in charge of cleaning up after executions. On the ship. I’d stand there and watch while Alvida beat someone’s head in. I’d listen to them beg and cry for their lives and I’d do nothing. Just – wait until they were just smears of blood on the deck. And then I’d mop it up and wait for the next one. [He inhales, leaning a little closer, pressing his shoulder to Tim’s, like he needs the support.] If you’re a coward, I’m a coward. If there’s blood on your hands, there’s so, so much more on mine.
[It’s out there, raw and aching and bleeding, and Koby’s head is swimming, throbbing from the strain of it, from the urge to bolt, to press the terrible terrible things he’d done back into the box in his head, pretend it’s not there. Pretend that story and all the other things he’d done or had done to him never happened. But he looks up, instead, teary-eyed and stricken and so, so tired.] Or – maybe we’re both just seeing how much we can live with. How much suffering we can cause, indirectly or not, and still keep getting up in the morning and trying to be good people.
I don’t know, Tim. I'm sorry.
If that's not what you're doing, what is this?
Are we not permitted to occasionally make conversation?
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.
Would you mind, actually? Answering a few questions for me? I'm trying to prepare for Hawk coming back.
[ He opens his mouth to make a frustrated snap – not at Koby, but at Hawk – because there’s no reason to worry about Louis down in the dungeon, is there? Not when the dungeon strangler is a friend of his, and he’s sitting pretty in Tim’s room guzzling down scotch after their latest fight about it.
But he says nothing, not to hide, but because he doesn’t want to interrupt Koby’s story, as gruesome as it is. It only makes him angrier. Is that why he’s been judged to suffer in this place? For not standing up to an entire crew of violent pirates with only a mop and bucket? It would be suicide, and that too is a sin. What was he supposed to do? ]
You’re not a coward. She would have just killed you, and then you never would have escaped, or made it here, or been any help to anyone. You survived.
[ As for the rest, he sighs. Says nothing. The goal should be to cause no suffering at all, but being in this manor and playing this game makes that impossible. Tim pulls his hand free from Koby’s to wrap around his shoulders instead, pulling him into his chest, while his other hand still anxiously rubs at his beads. ]
We’ll survive. And we’ll make things right once it’s over.
But he says nothing, not to hide, but because he doesn’t want to interrupt Koby’s story, as gruesome as it is. It only makes him angrier. Is that why he’s been judged to suffer in this place? For not standing up to an entire crew of violent pirates with only a mop and bucket? It would be suicide, and that too is a sin. What was he supposed to do? ]
You’re not a coward. She would have just killed you, and then you never would have escaped, or made it here, or been any help to anyone. You survived.
[ As for the rest, he sighs. Says nothing. The goal should be to cause no suffering at all, but being in this manor and playing this game makes that impossible. Tim pulls his hand free from Koby’s to wrap around his shoulders instead, pulling him into his chest, while his other hand still anxiously rubs at his beads. ]
We’ll survive. And we’ll make things right once it’s over.
I know.
[ Soft and raspy still from all the talking, his eyes turned towards the floor in shame. He knows. It would hurt less if it were a new slap in the face, an accusation he hasn’t already levied at himself, but it’s true, the knuckle’s been twisting between his ribs since before Alicent knew and found the opportunity to put his misdeeds so succinctly. Tim put his devotion before everyone else, and it had cost them. Maybe Hawk was right, that he could have handled it himself if this brutal game hadn’t started, but would that even matter? Or is it just more bargaining and delusion, trying to justify to himself why this or that sin doesn’t count if it’s for love?
It hurts to hear, coming from Alicent. That’s exactly why it should.
Tim listens, lets every word turn to lead in his gut. He reaches for the back of his neck as if to scratch an itch, and presses his fingertips into the bruise with a wince. A reminder of the consequences of his poor decisions, that it was dumb luck that it’s only a bruise and not a gash to pull his fingers from, bloodied. ]
I’d be furious. You have every right to be.
[ She doesn’t have to take it back or beg forgiveness. He knows. He knows. His only defense is that he didn’t before, that he trusted Hawk, that he couldn’t have foreseen how horribly and quickly things would escalate. But ignorance is no excuse. ]
You’re right about all of it. And I’ve paid for it. You don’t have to forgive me, but if you can at least believe that I’ve learned, I’d be grateful.
[ Soft and raspy still from all the talking, his eyes turned towards the floor in shame. He knows. It would hurt less if it were a new slap in the face, an accusation he hasn’t already levied at himself, but it’s true, the knuckle’s been twisting between his ribs since before Alicent knew and found the opportunity to put his misdeeds so succinctly. Tim put his devotion before everyone else, and it had cost them. Maybe Hawk was right, that he could have handled it himself if this brutal game hadn’t started, but would that even matter? Or is it just more bargaining and delusion, trying to justify to himself why this or that sin doesn’t count if it’s for love?
It hurts to hear, coming from Alicent. That’s exactly why it should.
Tim listens, lets every word turn to lead in his gut. He reaches for the back of his neck as if to scratch an itch, and presses his fingertips into the bruise with a wince. A reminder of the consequences of his poor decisions, that it was dumb luck that it’s only a bruise and not a gash to pull his fingers from, bloodied. ]
I’d be furious. You have every right to be.
[ She doesn’t have to take it back or beg forgiveness. He knows. He knows. His only defense is that he didn’t before, that he trusted Hawk, that he couldn’t have foreseen how horribly and quickly things would escalate. But ignorance is no excuse. ]
You’re right about all of it. And I’ve paid for it. You don’t have to forgive me, but if you can at least believe that I’ve learned, I’d be grateful.
Do you feel different now, after? Daemon said there was something wrong with your hands.
A king of this place, patron to the history of his faith. Mm.
[ it may be like his grandsire's influence, then, or his mother's at court when she had targaryen banners slowly removed and replaced with the seven-pointed star. the lord of light has believers across the kingdom as well. ]
Do you not have your version of the text, then? No... alderman, or governor who would do the same as this king?
[ it may be like his grandsire's influence, then, or his mother's at court when she had targaryen banners slowly removed and replaced with the seven-pointed star. the lord of light has believers across the kingdom as well. ]
Do you not have your version of the text, then? No... alderman, or governor who would do the same as this king?
My hands look as if touched by death, but I can carry the weight of a sword and swing it all the same. That aside, I bear my scars as you do. This place seems to bring its dead back whole and hale of body if no other is involved. I do not think your Hawk will be marked as I am.
Or do you worry for my mind?
Or do you worry for my mind?
Edited 2024-11-01 17:40 (UTC)
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