[ This insight into Hawk lights all she has perceived from a different angle. She would (and has) levelled the same accusations against Rhaenyra. For Alicent has toiled in service of the family and the law since entered the King's chambers, while Rhaenyra has flouted all. How can the faithful be drawn to those without such conviction? She doesn't know. She never has. Trying to unspool that thread now will make no difference, yet she attempts it all the same.
Tim's delay seems a blessing for her composure until she opens her door and sees him truly for the first time, heart stuttering in her chest. None have ever heard her plight, let alone understood it. Looking at his unshaven face and red-rimmed eyes, she wishes it remained that way, even as she finds herself impossibly grateful for his companionship.
For her part, the bruised hue under her eyes, blossoming in sleepless nights, gives away her distress, as does her own rumpled appearance. A frilly nightdress where she ought to have dressed for a vistor. Loose waves when she usually favours intricate style, tidy and proper. A startled expression, too, as though she can't believe he came (or that they conversed about all she has kept inside for so long). ]
Oh, Tim. [ Alicent embraces him before propriety can prevent her from ever reaching out, leaning up on the balls of her heeled feet to throw her arms around his neck. He's too tall. Everyone is, even her sons. ]
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2024-09-02 03:35 pm (UTC)Tim's delay seems a blessing for her composure until she opens her door and sees him truly for the first time, heart stuttering in her chest. None have ever heard her plight, let alone understood it. Looking at his unshaven face and red-rimmed eyes, she wishes it remained that way, even as she finds herself impossibly grateful for his companionship.
For her part, the bruised hue under her eyes, blossoming in sleepless nights, gives away her distress, as does her own rumpled appearance. A frilly nightdress where she ought to have dressed for a vistor. Loose waves when she usually favours intricate style, tidy and proper. A startled expression, too, as though she can't believe he came (or that they conversed about all she has kept inside for so long). ]
Oh, Tim. [ Alicent embraces him before propriety can prevent her from ever reaching out, leaning up on the balls of her heeled feet to throw her arms around his neck. He's too tall. Everyone is, even her sons. ]