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[holyposition]

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t.laughlin

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[holyposition]

Yeah, sure. Is everything okay?

[provoke]

No. Not truly.

What do you expect of me?

[holyposition]

That's a really broad question. What's going on?

[provoke]

Family dies, and things come to light. I spoke with Aegon. Clarified some matters close to heart.

What do you expect of me, and us?

[holyposition]

[ Clarified matters close to heart? Tim hesitates, feeling uneasy, letting t.laughlin is typing go a little too long. ]

Clarified?

I'm committed to you, Aemond. I know things are different where you're from, so I haven't rushed you. But I'd like the same in return.

What did Aegon say to you?

[provoke]

I'll not have the rest of this conversation held like this with you. Where are you?

[ better they talk it in person. better that they speak to and hear each other clearly, however the conversation might fall.

he can give this one courtesy out of respect. ]

[holyposition]

I'm in my room. The door's open.

[provoke]

[ his room. safe quarters. a sanctuary. hawk might be there. aemond doesn't want to cause further distress, but this needs neutral ground. ]

There is a study across your hallway. I'll meet with you there.

[holyposition]

Okay.

[ He has to slip out. Hawk's barely let him out of his sight since Alicent attacked him, even a week later now, and he's fine. So Tim takes the opportunity when it comes, without much of a chance to dress appropriately for a meeting that's semi-public - casual jeans, a white t-shirt. A look of concern writ clearly on his face, something he's never very subtle about, but that shows even more clearly, without his glasses to obscure it. ]

Hey.

[ Softly, because this is...well, it's strange, that whatever it is, Aemond feels it's important enough that it must be done face to face. Text was good enough for the news that Alicent had died. What could possibly be more pressing?

He approaches, not directly into his space, but leaning against the table he's sat at. ]

What's going on?

[provoke]

[ 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?

[holyposition]

...which one?

[ He's not following. Aemond says everything as if it's of the utmost seriousness, it can be hard to tell what truly is. He's promised to knock someone out for him, to teach him until he's strong, to respect his relationship with Hawk, to always put his family first. Tim has never argued that last point, or gotten in the way of that. Taking all that Aemond's said about him into account, he's been kinder to Aegon than he ought to, simply to keep the man in front of him happy. His brows furrow, head tilted just slightly, in questioning. ]

Did something happen? You can tell me.

[provoke]

As I said. My brother and I had a talk.

[ about their responsibilities, about their standing, about how their mother had brought them up to be stronger than what the rest of the realm expects them to be, because their future will always be in contest with rhaenyra pressing her claim. and she had been right. always, often, even when her actions falter in their execution.

alicent hightower was queen for decades. her loyalty to family was never in question. aegon was right to remind aemond of what has been sacrificed to put him on the throne. what aemond himself had done, and what he must continue to do. how he cannot allow to be anyone else, even in a place where nothing remains the same for too long. ]

I promised that I would give what I can, so long as you accept that my family will always come first. I call on that promise now.

My mother needs me. My brother. I cannot remain split in my loyalty. I relieve you of me.

[holyposition]

Relieve me? Aemond--

[ Tim shifts, as if he means to step towards him, but stops himself in his tracks, pinching at the bridge of his nose in frustration. This, again? ]

You don't have to be split, I'm not asking you to choose me over any of them. [ The way you did, he doesn't add, the venom kept at bay by his affection. ] I promised too, remember? I don't know how else to prove to you that it isn't a burden. I've never complained about any sacrifice I've made for you, so what makes you think I need relieving?

[ He'd have been within his rights to. Sacrificing one of his closest friendships, betraying Alicent and hurting her the way he had - nothing she'd done to him during her vampire rampage could make up for that. Tim has been at his beck and call, refusing him nothing except for senseless violence, keeping secrets that curdle inside him like old milk, dropping everything for him, when he was mourning. Not one complaint to anyone. ]

[provoke]

I asked nothing of you. Not even with the secrets you hold that could kill me, I ask nothing of you, because I have trusted you to hold true to your word. I call on it now.

You told me you would have me as I am. This is as I am.

[ family would know the weight of his intimations regarding daemon. family would kill him for it, knowing what has happened, the lives that have been taken on both sides. ]

I release you of your promises to me, and hold you no longer. You have my gratitude for all that you've given.

[holyposition]

No.

[ He approaches now, fists clenched at his side. This is how I am, again, as if he's an animal with no free will of his own, a prince (no, regent,) and dragonrider devoid of any agency. Tim doesn't accept it. He can't accept it. His heart pounds in his chest, that tingle of unease breaking free into something darker and uglier. Anger. ]

You don't get to dismiss me like I'm a servant. [ Brown eyes ablaze, close enough to see Aemond with clarity. Treacherous. Cowardly. ] If you don't want me, be a man and tell me so. Don't frame it like you're doing me a favor.

[provoke]

Were I to treat you as a servant I would not bother speaking with you at all. You confuse yourself about me. Perhaps that is my mistake, in not having made clear who I am.

[ he sees the reproach now, and wonders if tim has ever truly understood the honour that aemond has given him. if he has ever thought to wonder about the worth of the concessions aemond has made in silence to please him. tim claims to have never complained, but here he stands throwing it back to aemond's face when aemond calls on the oaths long given, promises aemond has not faltered in keeping true.

he gives only what he gives, and accepts only what is given. he asks no further, demands no further. he has never been anything but himself, and now that his less pretty, gentle parts are given light, tim recoils entire. ]

Your way then. I do not want you.

Return to your man, Laughlin, you are dismissed.

[holyposition]

[ It's the coolness of it all that bothers him more than anything else. He says it so easily, as if all of this has meant nothing, as if he feels nothing. That can't be true. He's held this man as he's confessed to his darkest moments, invited him in to help him mend after Eddie's attack, seen the ferocity with which he's insisted on Tim's protection. He knows that Aemond is not unfeeling. Something's gotten into him, and he's getting to the bottom of it. ]

You're lying. Or you have been, until now. Which is it?

[ Needling, looking for a reaction, any reaction, that isn't cold and stoic. Tim can't be that way. He's never even tried, useless as he knows it would be. He feels too deeply, gets attached too quickly. He blinks back tears as he presses on, itching for a raised voice in response, a fight, anything. ]

I thought I had a man, right here in front of me. But you're just a boy pretending, aren't you?

🎀

[provoke]

[ here he is, aemond targaryen the one-eye, the kinslayer. tim laughlin would not have survived a fraction of what aemond has, and he would dare insult him so. does he think aemond unable to see through the attempt? when his own mother has torn him apart in nearly every way she could, just to remind him of his youth?

tim will not yield to grace, that much is clear, and aemond tires of it all. with casual disregard aemond hums, steps around tim and walks away.

there is nothing for him to say, and nothing for tim that he will hear. ]