[ he makes his way over to tim's hallway, his steps quick and quiet even with the chilled weather that rages on. he has tim's gifted brooch nestled against his shirt, hidden out of view - the pin reminding him of its point every time he moves. little things, little reminders. pain can be an anchor. ]

Tim.

[ he's stood straight, upright, hands folded behind him. the shortened length of his hair brushes against his cheeks in a distracting way every time he moves, so he simply stays still. ]

Aegon reminds me of duty. Sacrifice. The things we hold dear as a family. Do you remember my promise to you?