holyposition | IC Inbox

[ 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?

Arms up to shoulders, for the laces.

[ he says laces but he's securing them like leashes, snug and firm against tim's surprisingly toned build. he's been keeping with his training, then. good. aemond did not spend weeks beating the soft out of him just for tim to slack the moment his lover had taken him back to his graces.

speaking of people who are not lovers— ]

Do you think yourself the jealous type?

[ He's been working out here for longer than he's been doing it with Aemond - pain in the body relieves pain in the mind, and there's been no shortage of it that needs to be soothed or temporarily forgotten. It's cathartic, purifying. If his arms look bigger for it, all the better. ]

That's a tough question. [ Tim sighs loudly, thinking. ] I can be. I try not to be, though. My situation is complicated right now, so I really have no right to be, but it's...hard, Hawk's taste being what it is.

[ The short answer. ]

Why do you ask?

[ there goes a really tight lacing at that question. ]

Pierce has his friends here now. [ can you hear the bitter anger in his voice as he says it? ] He invites me to meet with them. I've said yes, of course, it would be impolite to refuse.

[ aemond rests a firm, curling hand to the back of tim's neck. he doesn't mean to be threatening, but it's the only way he knows to externalise any emotion anymore. ]

Yet I do not wish to meet them at all.

Edited 2024-11-10 03:40 (UTC)

[ Boy you brought it up... ]

Okay.

[ As he tries to puzzle out how this is a bad thing, he swats at Aemond's hand on the back of his neck. Tim's still jumpy about it, not yet a month out from near-death via strangulation. ]

Are these...regular friends, or intimate ones?

I am not blind to the nature of this place. How lines cross and often between relations. You yourself have had some trouble with it, have you not?

[ not to put too fine a point to it, but this is why aemond is asking tim first. if anyone would understand, then tim would be at the top of aemond's list. ]

I would be a fool to think it would not happen, even if the chances for it are low in truth.

I should excise it from me, this feeling.

I don't know if I'd call it trouble...wait, would you?

[ A strong word, perhaps, but it's true enough that he keeps letting the lines get blurred. This place seems built not to let any friendships get too close without turning them into something else. ]

There's no cure for jealousy. Trust me, I've tried.

Then I continue as I have.

[ enlightening. aemond lets go of tim's neck, pats his back with more force than he typically might, and — sighs. it's the most aggrieved sigh he's ever deigned himself to make.

he makes it easy to forget that, at the heart of things, he still remains a boy of eight and ten. ]

I mislike it. I deeply mislike it, feeling this. Easily it could be used against me.

[ Two things are immediately evident. One, that Aemond cares about Pierce more than he'd like to admit, and two, that he'll claw Tim like a feral cat if he decides to point that out. Carefully, ]

It feels terrible. I get it. Hawk has some relationship with that guy, Embry, who gets his kicks from disrespecting me whenever he can. It makes me feel like an idiot.

[ Sighing back, softly, as he stumbles forward and hurries to stand up straight again. He hadn't had any intention of thinking about this today - didn't think there would be occasion to, since Hawk hasn't been able to keep it in his pants long enough to stray since he's been back. ]

Why would he use it against you?

Pierce would not; of this I am certain. But my family—

[ he is not calling into question his family's honour. he cannot find it in himself to even speak it; even daemon, for all his faults, has some honour to him. he would not use others without good reason.

but that's the matter of it, isn't it? with good reason. for the sake of the realm is always good reason. ]

Everything that we have, we have shared amongst us all our lives. Our name. Our dragons. The throne and the crown, and its impossible weight. And so my allies are my family's allies. Pierce is my friend. That makes him a friend to my house.

Hawk disrespects you for his own selfishness. How do you answer if you are disrespected for the betterment of others?

...I'm sorry, I don't think I'm following.

[ When has he ever been disrespected for the betterment of others? Even when Hawk left him for what he thought was Tim's own safety, it didn't cure Rosie any faster, nobody was happier, more safe, or more secure. ]

Would someone in your family...do something to him? Or with him?

We share in everything, Tim. Even in things we would rather not share at all.

[ shared misery, shared tragedy, shared insults. when your sister is your wife or your husband your cousin, when uncle weds niece and so on, the lines blur even further. where do you stop? when do you say, enough? ]

If my family calls on my friendship with him for our combined benefit, should I say no? That would be treasonous.

Edited 2024-11-10 23:52 (UTC)

That would depend on what they've called him for, wouldn't it? And on whether he agrees?

[ They share in everything back home, but here? He doesn't know Pierce very well, but he's forceful, strong-willed. Doesn't he get a choice? ]

My loyalty is to you and your mother. I never volunteered to be shared. Has he?

Push comes to shove, do you think you will be given a choice? Beyond saying yes or betraying confidence, how else do you think—

[ this is not westeros. the iron throne does not rule here. he must remember this and always, especially when it's most difficult to do so. they are not the ruling power here. they do not have command of the smallfolk, or the council, or the hundreds of thousands of lords and noble families that keep the kingdoms in order.

so many things he has taken for granted. so many matters he has yet to learn, or even begin to understand. ]

It has never been in question for me, that I will give all I am and all I have to my family. For our name and honour, for our survival if necessary.

Is that not how you live?

I know that you're devoted. I just question if your friends can be given. Pierce is his own man. So am I, or...whoever else.

[ Does Aemond have other friends? Probably not. Better, for the sake of argument, fewer variables. Tim turns towards the mirror now that he's laced up, admiring Aemond's work. He almost looks like a proper knight. ]

I love my family. I'd do anything for them. But it's complicated right now. And we're not under attack, besides.

I am a dragon. I am fire and blood. The rest does not matter.

[ but there is something hollow about it, the way aemond says it now. like he's seeing beyond it, and not entirely liking what he sees. how it cannot always be fair to give everything to a cause that will never give anything back. ]

I do not have the same luxury. But maybe — you always say that we do not have to be who we were back home, while we're here. That this is different.

Why is it not different for you as well?

[ Tim notices that the response seems automatic. Not felt as strongly as it has been in the past, a script that he's reading from, instead of from the heart. Despite his own urging, it carves out an ache in his chest for him. It's easy to forget how young Aemond really is, and how little he knows of things that many take for granted, due to his particular circumstances. Tim's own first taste of disillusionment wasn't pleasant.

He smiles gently, and reaches carefully for Aemond, to cup his cheek the way he had in the hallway last month, when he first declared Tim a brother. Valonqar. ]

I am different here. I'd be disowned if they knew what I was. But here, I'm free to love. I'm free to learn. I worked in an office for a lawmaker before, and now I'm in a contest of swords, under the tutelage of a prince. Everything is different.

[ Except for Hawk being here with him. Even that, while still complicated, isn't complicated for the same reasons that it had been back home. ]

Mm.

[ a soft hum, this time. a gentler hand over tim's own, not the sharp touch from before. there is no bite this time, no painful grip. tim deserves to be free. a kind heart in true, just as his mother had said; he sees the truth of it now.

tim is worthy, proved himself again and again.

it only takes a simple pull forward as aemond leans in and presses a soft kiss to tim's forehead. ]

I appreciate your listening to me.

Win your games, brother mine. You do not need your family to cheer for you, when I am here. Show no mercy.

[ The sharp touch is something he’s gotten used to, and truly, he doesn’t always dislike, even with his ambition to prove to Aemond that it isn’t always necessary. His brush with death has taught him to be more careful, that despite the strides he’s made in learning to stick up for himself, there will be times when he needs to physically defend his person and not just his emotions. He can throw Tim around on the mats all day, and he’ll still have felt rougher, hands around his neck with a true intent to kill.

Being prepared for something else and receiving true softness instead makes him smile, his heart swelling something pleased and proud. His own lessons for Aemond are not so flashy, perhaps, as swinging swords around, but they’ve been heeded and have value all the same. Even his words are sweet. Tim fights to keep the shock from showing on his face, leaning to press a kiss to his cheek in turn, right at the bottom point of his scar. ]

Any time. I mean that. Oh, hold on. [ Reaching behind him around his neck to unclasp the token he was given at the start of this – it's not easy, with gloves. ] Um, my family name, Laughlin, it comes from the old country. We crossed the sea to America three generations back, in search of better opportunity. But it means ‘from the lakes’ - a lush, watery region that we came from, originally.

[ And so the token of his favor, now that he’s managed to unhook it, is a necklace with an opal pendant on it, in the shape of the lake on the grounds that they’re back to running around before dawn breaks, now that Tim isn’t spending his days moping in the graveyard. Whether his family by blood would cheer for him does not matter, since they’re not here, and Aemond is. ]

We’re no noble house, but I’d like you to have this anyway. For good luck.

—Your favour.

[ the look of surprise on aemond's face is shockingly plain. he hadn't expected to receive any favours, had not even thought of it at all when he laid his own favour at his mother's lap. he was not someone people thought to honour; if the scar did not scare people off, then it was his reputation as a cruel and exacting fighter that intimidated any ladies who might have thought him worthy.

aemond receives the favour, cradling it in his hand, and perhaps stares at it for far too long than should be healthy.

when he looks back up, there is a dark look in his eye, but it isn't cruel or harsh. aemond doesn't know how to communicate or feel in half-measures; this is no different. ]

Tim from the lakes. Hensenāvar. Thank you.

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i thought i'd already replied 😭

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