Date: 2025-01-17 11:15 am (UTC)
unapparent: (095)
From: [personal profile] unapparent
I fear little survived my girlish tantrums.

[ so consider the letter binned, burned, trampled. ]

I’ll see you soon, Tim.

[ And despite the nerves gripping her, she dresses in a gown of dark teal from Lady Sansa, protected by her boys’ decision to hang them in her closet for her. Little kindnesses she thought them incapable of, in her lowest moments.

Before Tim notices her, she lingers at the back of the chapel and watches him from afar. Still strong, her Tim, his boyish sweep of hair unsinged by her fiery gaze. Since Embry’s death, Alicent has not set foot in this place, and she doubts she will return often, even as she surveys Hawk and Tim’s fine handiwork. Her faith has imprisoned her as much as her role. Maiden, mother, crone. She need kneel no longer. ]


I’m fine, Tim. [ A small, sad smile. Her voice scrapes her throat, burned by Alina’s sunlit blood and still healing. Though she keeps her distance. The hands that do harm lose the ability to heal, so she keeps hers clasped at her waist, glasses hooked on a dainty finger. ]

As I can be. [ She swallows hard, wincing slightly at the pain of it. ] I — I don’t wish to take up your time, but — I’m so terribly sorry, for all I said and did upon my return. [ Firmer, then, meeting his gaze. ] Know that you do not deserve such ugliness.
This account has disabled anonymous posting.
If you don't have an account you can create one now.
HTML doesn't work in the subject.
More info about formatting

Profile

holyposition: (Default)
Tim Laughlin

February 2025

S M T W T F S
      1
2345678
9101112131415
161718192021 22
232425262728 

Active Entries

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jun. 28th, 2025 03:41 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios