[ Tim bites his tongue for a moment. He isn’t fully versed in the customs of Westeros, or in the details of Alicent’s relationship with her late husband, but he can only assume, based on what she’s said, and his general knowledge of medieval royalty – which is greater than average, he studied history – that marrying her real love’s father was out of her hands. He proceeds slowly, trying to be as tactful as possible. ]
Correct me if I’m wrong, but it doesn’t sound like your marriage was your own choice to make. I’m sure it hurt, but it wasn’t you inflicting the wound. You talk about her like hurting her is the last thing on your mind.
[ Nicer than he’s spoken of Hawk, in his fresh hurt and the bitterness that comes with it. ]
[ Not for the first time, Tim’s instinct for kindness is appreciated. A thoughtful look on his face, gentle words on his tongue. Few people have handled her with such care, not when she needed it most. ]
No, I suppose not. [ It’s taken her some time to realise that, after she willingly went to the King’s chambers and offered him comfort in his grief. She reaches out, hand brushing his in a show of appreciation for his tact and forgiveness, though she cannot accept the latter. ]
Back then, I was a pawn that my father and his liege Lord moved about the board. But my actions in the years that followed…I have knowingly undermined her at every turn. [ There are too many slights to recount, her viperous tongue slandering Rhaenyra and her bastard sons, the blood she herself took with a dagger in hand. She selects the greatest among them: ] It is I who crowned my son in our holy place, before the eyes of gods and men, when she had not even been told of her father’s passing. The war I spoke to you of — it is one for succession, and we now stand in the eye of it.
[ All sounds horribly complicated. It seems that Alicent has been forced to play more roles than any one person could ever manage successfully. Wife, mother, queen, friend, lover. Each with different priorities that are bound to contradict. He's faced these conflicts of identity himself, on a much smaller scale, and found it impossible to juggle it all. This was being simply in proximity to McCarthy's power, far from wielding it himself. Would he have been strong enough to always do the right thing, if he were just a little closer? ]
Sounds complicated. But you're the queen. Your husband and the father of your children newly passed. You had a duty to keep things running smoothly, while dealing with your grief at the same time. You did the best you could.
I chose my children. [ the best she could do for them, not for Rhaenyra or the realm. a selfishness based in blood. a mother’s love. ]
I though my husband did the same — he spoke our firstborn Aegon’s name in his dying breaths and said he should be king, but… why he would waver in those final hours, I do not know.
[ he supported Rhaenyra’s claim in voice for years, if not in law. he never tried to change the rules of succession to favour women, despite espousing support for his daughter. a contradictory, ineffectual man. but kind. alicent knows that any man who takes her to wife for the second time will not be so generous with her. ]
It does not matter, in the end, who was right or wrong. We are at odds, regardless.
[ and only annihilation will win the day, her sons or Rhaenyra. ]
Thank you, Tim — for listening to our strange politics.
[ No, it doesn't seem as though there are right or wrong answers in this scenario. It's difficult for Tim to wrap his head around, for it's only fairly recently that the world has revealed itself to be more than black and white. There was God's word, which was good, and there was everything else. It was childish of him to think that things might always be so simple as that, or to think that they ever were. ]
You're welcome. Thank you for sharing them with me. I'm not sure I understand completely, but I know it's been hard for you. I'm glad you're mostly free of it here.
no subject
[ Tim bites his tongue for a moment. He isn’t fully versed in the customs of Westeros, or in the details of Alicent’s relationship with her late husband, but he can only assume, based on what she’s said, and his general knowledge of medieval royalty – which is greater than average, he studied history – that marrying her real love’s father was out of her hands. He proceeds slowly, trying to be as tactful as possible. ]
Correct me if I’m wrong, but it doesn’t sound like your marriage was your own choice to make. I’m sure it hurt, but it wasn’t you inflicting the wound. You talk about her like hurting her is the last thing on your mind.
[ Nicer than he’s spoken of Hawk, in his fresh hurt and the bitterness that comes with it. ]
no subject
No, I suppose not. [ It’s taken her some time to realise that, after she willingly went to the King’s chambers and offered him comfort in his grief. She reaches out, hand brushing his in a show of appreciation for his tact and forgiveness, though she cannot accept the latter. ]
Back then, I was a pawn that my father and his liege Lord moved about the board. But my actions in the years that followed…I have knowingly undermined her at every turn. [ There are too many slights to recount, her viperous tongue slandering Rhaenyra and her bastard sons, the blood she herself took with a dagger in hand. She selects the greatest among them: ] It is I who crowned my son in our holy place, before the eyes of gods and men, when she had not even been told of her father’s passing. The war I spoke to you of — it is one for succession, and we now stand in the eye of it.
no subject
[ All sounds horribly complicated. It seems that Alicent has been forced to play more roles than any one person could ever manage successfully. Wife, mother, queen, friend, lover. Each with different priorities that are bound to contradict. He's faced these conflicts of identity himself, on a much smaller scale, and found it impossible to juggle it all. This was being simply in proximity to McCarthy's power, far from wielding it himself. Would he have been strong enough to always do the right thing, if he were just a little closer? ]
Sounds complicated. But you're the queen. Your husband and the father of your children newly passed. You had a duty to keep things running smoothly, while dealing with your grief at the same time. You did the best you could.
no subject
I though my husband did the same — he spoke our firstborn Aegon’s name in his dying breaths and said he should be king, but… why he would waver in those final hours, I do not know.
[ he supported Rhaenyra’s claim in voice for years, if not in law. he never tried to change the rules of succession to favour women, despite espousing support for his daughter. a contradictory, ineffectual man. but kind. alicent knows that any man who takes her to wife for the second time will not be so generous with her. ]
It does not matter, in the end, who was right or wrong. We are at odds, regardless.
[ and only annihilation will win the day, her sons or Rhaenyra. ]
Thank you, Tim — for listening to our strange politics.
no subject
[ No, it doesn't seem as though there are right or wrong answers in this scenario. It's difficult for Tim to wrap his head around, for it's only fairly recently that the world has revealed itself to be more than black and white. There was God's word, which was good, and there was everything else. It was childish of him to think that things might always be so simple as that, or to think that they ever were. ]
You're welcome. Thank you for sharing them with me. I'm not sure I understand completely, but I know it's been hard for you. I'm glad you're mostly free of it here.
[ At least for now. ]