I know that. But the one who attacked me? He lives. Give me this one thing. Please.
[ It feels like a sacrifice, not demanding the same for them all. But he's too exhausted to fight every battle, not just physically, but mentally, spiritually. If he laid down to sleep, he's not sure he would even be able to, with all the possibilities and fears running through his head, about the wrong choices he's made, and the ones he'll continue to make.
If he's alone, he thinks, he'll panic. Aemond's talent for soothing him would, perhaps, be outshined by other potential company, but it's meaningful that he's making the attempt, rubbing out tense muscles. Tim leans forward, against him, head on his shoulder. ]
I kept the belt. Maybe some magic can be done on it.
I won't strike to kill. If he lives, he lives. [ he's trying here. he can't promise to spare a life when he's never seen any value in keeping enemies alive. ] Do not press any further, Tim. I won't argue with you when you're injured.
[ manners demand he not pick a fight with the injured, much as he would not give a care otherwise. his mother would judge him harshly for the shameless behaviour. that's his reason, if anyone asks. ]
May I see the belt? Before you let the idiot witches touch it?
That is true, I suppose. Pierce Strickland has more sense in a thimble than most. More by miles compared to that... Who was the fool one? He was rightfully attacked for his idiocy. A lot of the accusations have been that way, these imbeciles.
[ it's a fine belt, when aemond finds it. the leather is sturdy but aged, and the notches have seen a lot of wear. DW is imprinted on the inverse, along the length of it. ]
I was thinking of Harry Dresden, actually. You're thinking of Matt. Jamison.
[ Fool is a little harsh, in Tim's opinion, but making an accusation, retracting it, and making another, only for neither one to go anywhere was...a bad look. Messy. He didn't vote until the last minute because he wanted to be sure. He sighs again, accepts the pain that comes with it, and settles onto the bed. ]
DW, yeah. There's only one person here that I'm aware of with those initials, and I've never spoken to him. I don't know why he would want to attack me, I'm not...
[ Important, he nearly says. Not the leader of anything, not outed as having any special role that might make him a strategic option instead of a personal one. It doesn't make any sense. ]
Not at all, but we have his name now. If nothing else, that would mean we have three of the wolves accounted for. [ oh– ] Do not worry about the second one. It'll be taken care of in due course.
[ he'll ask his mother if she knows of a dean winchester. later; for now, he tests the belt for its sturdiness, wrapping both ends round his fists and pulling it tight over his elbow with a sharpness. if it seems like he's testing how it holds against skin, the way aemond looks over to tim's neck leaves no doubt about it. ]
He'll have exerted a great force to leave the bruises and scrapes you have. He should have welts in his hands, if he had done this and had not worn gloves. Did you struggle? Did you injure him in some way?
What do you mean don't worry about the second one?
[ Leaning forward to hack painfully into his shirt, the collar pulled up over his face as he coughs. It sounds rough, painful. ]
Of course I struggled. But it was dark, I don't know how effective it was. There might be scratches on his hands or arms. I really...I don't know. Who's the second one?
Daemon will handle it. Leave it be, he will cut you if you get in his way.
[ much as he'd love to see his uncle on a rampage, it would not do well for his already stressed mother to see more of her friends hurt or killed. he does note down the possible injuries tim's attacker might have. the weather has gotten mild enough to justify wearing thickened sleeves; this could require some work.
aemond welcomes it. ]
Just lie back, Tim. Truly. You won't be attacked in the next few hours, and you need to heal.
I'm not - I just want to know who, so we can focus on uncovering the rest. I could be following other clues instead of wasting my time looking for someone we already know.
[ But he complies, laying on his side, so he can keep watching Aemond. ]
[ he orders tim to move, but he also leaves the belt and walks over to the belt and all but pushes tim to the centre of the mattress, slipping into place next to him with shoes on and all. he roots around the bedside and finds a softbound book, a bible attributed to some king named james. aemond opens to a random chapter, and begins reading out loud. ]
"And there appeared another wonder in heaven; and behold a great red dragon, having seven heads and ten horns, and seven crowns upon his heads..."
[ Tim lets himself be handled, not that he could put up much of a fight if he wanted to right now, but he doesn't mind, and that's the important thing. He sits with Aemond, shoulder to shoulder, and winces with the chuckle that trickles out of him. Because of course he would find this very page first. ]
Yeah, it is.
And no shoes on the bed, I know you weren't raised in a barn.
[ he's not taking his shoes off if there's a chance he'll need to be up on his feet and defending themselves against an attack. mind, he still has a missing eye; being highly trained to compensate for the loss does not make it any less of a disadvantage. ]
This is, um. A prophecy, sort of. The dragon is mostly symbolic, of a great evil coming to wreck havoc. My grandmother takes it completely literally, but I don’t-- [ Cough cough hack ugh!! ] You know, this isn’t really the most comforting part of the book. Try Psalms.
Do you question the tax collector for doing his duty? It's not blood. It'll wash clean and easily.
[ surely some dirt won't hurt. aemond hums and flips the pages to somewhere closer to the middle of the book, and lands on psalms 78; ]
"I will open my mouth with a parable; I will utter hidden things, things from of old, things we have heard and known, things our ancestors have told us. We will not hide them from their descendants; we will tell the next generation the praiseworthy deeds of the Lord, his power, and the wonders he has done."
[ hm. this sounds familiar— ]
'Tis a book of prophecy, this text? Your God entreats to have witches his own?
It’s not witches. It’s...passing our stories on, building community. You ask a lot of questions.
[ He says it fondly, letting his head slump against Aemond’s shoulder again. A small, affectionate touch. If he builds up enough of them, maybe the sensation of the belt will go away. ]
Only fools accept matters as they are stated, and do not look beyond the given meaning of things.
[ the words of his grandsire echoing through him, spilling from his mouth. he reads on, all the same; the stories are full of fire and brimstone, death and destruction, a vengeful god who has had enough of his subjects and means to remind them of their place.
aemond rather likes it, if he's asked to give an opinion. he even allows tim to brush his cheek on his own shoulder, like a cat does against an ankle.
[ A lesson Tim could stand to take to heart a bit more, honestly. ]
He was a king in England, where we...might be right now, about four hundred years ago. Our holy book wasn't written in this language at first, so it's a translation he commissioned.
...I come from a country across the ocean. America. We don't have kings there, but we still use his Bible.
A king of this place, patron to the history of his faith. Mm.
[ it may be like his grandsire's influence, then, or his mother's at court when she had targaryen banners slowly removed and replaced with the seven-pointed star. the lord of light has believers across the kingdom as well. ]
Do you not have your version of the text, then? No... alderman, or governor who would do the same as this king?
[ a blanket thrown across his legs, and a warm weight against his side. it makes him stutter in his reading, indignation at the audacity warring with the sudden, piercing desire to be treated with this particular softness.
he never shared beds with his siblings when they were growing up. it did not seem proper, when the certainty of marriage between brother and sister remained hanging above their heads. ]
...I can stay.
[ and he does. he stays just long enough for tim to finally sleep, stays an hour longer to see if sleep would hold, and then carefully — quietly — leaves the warmth of the room and let another take watch over the man.
he tucks the sheets around tim's shoulders before he leaves. ]
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2024-10-13 03:48 am (UTC)[ It feels like a sacrifice, not demanding the same for them all. But he's too exhausted to fight every battle, not just physically, but mentally, spiritually. If he laid down to sleep, he's not sure he would even be able to, with all the possibilities and fears running through his head, about the wrong choices he's made, and the ones he'll continue to make.
If he's alone, he thinks, he'll panic. Aemond's talent for soothing him would, perhaps, be outshined by other potential company, but it's meaningful that he's making the attempt, rubbing out tense muscles. Tim leans forward, against him, head on his shoulder. ]
I kept the belt. Maybe some magic can be done on it.
no subject
Date: 2024-10-13 04:09 am (UTC)[ manners demand he not pick a fight with the injured, much as he would not give a care otherwise. his mother would judge him harshly for the shameless behaviour. that's his reason, if anyone asks. ]
May I see the belt? Before you let the idiot witches touch it?
no subject
Date: 2024-10-13 04:14 am (UTC)[ He's not so pure to insist that he doesn't deserve a smack. Well, for Aemond it's probably a stab, but again - picking his battles. ]
It's there, on the table by the bed...and they're not all idiots.
no subject
Date: 2024-10-13 04:51 am (UTC)[ it's a fine belt, when aemond finds it. the leather is sturdy but aged, and the notches have seen a lot of wear. DW is imprinted on the inverse, along the length of it. ]
You have seen the initials on the belt?
no subject
Date: 2024-10-13 05:03 am (UTC)[ Fool is a little harsh, in Tim's opinion, but making an accusation, retracting it, and making another, only for neither one to go anywhere was...a bad look. Messy. He didn't vote until the last minute because he wanted to be sure. He sighs again, accepts the pain that comes with it, and settles onto the bed. ]
DW, yeah. There's only one person here that I'm aware of with those initials, and I've never spoken to him. I don't know why he would want to attack me, I'm not...
[ Important, he nearly says. Not the leader of anything, not outed as having any special role that might make him a strategic option instead of a personal one. It doesn't make any sense. ]
Dean Winchester. You know him?
no subject
Date: 2024-10-13 05:24 am (UTC)[ he'll ask his mother if she knows of a dean winchester. later; for now, he tests the belt for its sturdiness, wrapping both ends round his fists and pulling it tight over his elbow with a sharpness. if it seems like he's testing how it holds against skin, the way aemond looks over to tim's neck leaves no doubt about it. ]
He'll have exerted a great force to leave the bruises and scrapes you have. He should have welts in his hands, if he had done this and had not worn gloves. Did you struggle? Did you injure him in some way?
no subject
Date: 2024-10-13 05:31 am (UTC)[ Leaning forward to hack painfully into his shirt, the collar pulled up over his face as he coughs. It sounds rough, painful. ]
Of course I struggled. But it was dark, I don't know how effective it was. There might be scratches on his hands or arms. I really...I don't know. Who's the second one?
no subject
Date: 2024-10-13 05:53 am (UTC)[ much as he'd love to see his uncle on a rampage, it would not do well for his already stressed mother to see more of her friends hurt or killed. he does note down the possible injuries tim's attacker might have. the weather has gotten mild enough to justify wearing thickened sleeves; this could require some work.
aemond welcomes it. ]
Just lie back, Tim. Truly. You won't be attacked in the next few hours, and you need to heal.
no subject
Date: 2024-10-13 06:03 am (UTC)[ But he complies, laying on his side, so he can keep watching Aemond. ]
Are you staying?
no subject
Date: 2024-10-15 01:46 pm (UTC)Move over.
[ he orders tim to move, but he also leaves the belt and walks over to the belt and all but pushes tim to the centre of the mattress, slipping into place next to him with shoes on and all. he roots around the bedside and finds a softbound book, a bible attributed to some king named james. aemond opens to a random chapter, and begins reading out loud. ]
"And there appeared another wonder in heaven; and behold a great red dragon, having seven heads and ten horns, and seven crowns upon his heads..."
—Is this text from your home?
no subject
Date: 2024-10-15 02:27 pm (UTC)Yeah, it is.
And no shoes on the bed, I know you weren't raised in a barn.
no subject
Date: 2024-10-15 02:30 pm (UTC)The servants will clean it.
[ he's not taking his shoes off if there's a chance he'll need to be up on his feet and defending themselves against an attack. mind, he still has a missing eye; being highly trained to compensate for the loss does not make it any less of a disadvantage. ]
What happened to the dragons of your world?
no subject
Date: 2024-10-15 03:58 pm (UTC)[ What with the corpses. ]
This is, um. A prophecy, sort of. The dragon is mostly symbolic, of a great evil coming to wreck havoc. My grandmother takes it completely literally, but I don’t-- [ Cough cough hack ugh!! ] You know, this isn’t really the most comforting part of the book. Try Psalms.
no subject
Date: 2024-10-15 04:59 pm (UTC)[ surely some dirt won't hurt. aemond hums and flips the pages to somewhere closer to the middle of the book, and lands on psalms 78; ]
"I will open my mouth with a parable; I will utter hidden things, things from of old, things we have heard and known, things our ancestors have told us. We will not hide them from their descendants; we will tell the next generation the praiseworthy deeds of the Lord, his power, and the wonders he has done."
[ hm. this sounds familiar— ]
'Tis a book of prophecy, this text? Your God entreats to have witches his own?
no subject
Date: 2024-10-15 05:44 pm (UTC)It’s not witches. It’s...passing our stories on, building community. You ask a lot of questions.
[ He says it fondly, letting his head slump against Aemond’s shoulder again. A small, affectionate touch. If he builds up enough of them, maybe the sensation of the belt will go away. ]
no subject
Date: 2024-10-16 06:15 am (UTC)[ the words of his grandsire echoing through him, spilling from his mouth. he reads on, all the same; the stories are full of fire and brimstone, death and destruction, a vengeful god who has had enough of his subjects and means to remind them of their place.
aemond rather likes it, if he's asked to give an opinion. he even allows tim to brush his cheek on his own shoulder, like a cat does against an ankle.
(like he would, with vhagar's rough scales.) ]
Who is King James?
no subject
Date: 2024-10-17 04:38 am (UTC)[ A lesson Tim could stand to take to heart a bit more, honestly. ]
He was a king in England, where we...might be right now, about four hundred years ago. Our holy book wasn't written in this language at first, so it's a translation he commissioned.
...I come from a country across the ocean. America. We don't have kings there, but we still use his Bible.
no subject
Date: 2024-11-01 04:53 pm (UTC)[ it may be like his grandsire's influence, then, or his mother's at court when she had targaryen banners slowly removed and replaced with the seven-pointed star. the lord of light has believers across the kingdom as well. ]
Do you not have your version of the text, then? No... alderman, or governor who would do the same as this king?
no subject
Date: 2024-11-02 10:27 pm (UTC)[ Tim settles in further, pulling a blanket over himself, and after a moment of thought, throws it wider over Aemond's legs, too. ]
You're planning on staying?
🎀 done!
Date: 2024-11-03 05:03 pm (UTC)he never shared beds with his siblings when they were growing up. it did not seem proper, when the certainty of marriage between brother and sister remained hanging above their heads. ]
...I can stay.
[ and he does. he stays just long enough for tim to finally sleep, stays an hour longer to see if sleep would hold, and then carefully — quietly — leaves the warmth of the room and let another take watch over the man.
he tucks the sheets around tim's shoulders before he leaves. ]