[ he's not expecting the call, truthfully. he'd been minding his mother's hair, and aegon has stormed off to his side of the room out of disgust or some other unhappy feeling. it's fine. he will mind his mother on his own if necessary.
the nature of aemond's covetousness means he has not considered that, perhaps, his mother's death however temporary would have a strong impact on others. his mother is loved here. beloved, truly beloved unlike the sycophantic attentions poured upon her back home. and aemond sought to ruin it, whether he meant to or not.
now the consequences of his actions come calling, and it tastes bitter in his mouth. ]
I don't rightly know yet who had done it, but she was gored. Violently, as with the games.
[ his voice is truly hollow, as if speaking at a distance from himself. though he's passing through the stages of grief with alarming speed, circling through them over and over like a madman. ]
She's resting in my rooms. I can meet you outside.
[ It comes out as a whispering squeak, pure disbelief. It can't be like the games, because nobody wanted to hurt her during the games. Tim had used the power he was given to protect her, to the detriment of more likely targets, out of fear that they would, and he was never called to any action beyond roaming the hallways outside her door. Who would want to now? Who would dare, with the wrath of Aemond, most of the vampires, and a man with lasers for eyes on the other side of it? ]
Yeah. Outside. I'll--I'll pack a bag.
[ He'll forget socks and his toothbrush, in his haste, but he makes it in minutes, nearly running across the floors of the manor to get to Aemond. He's wiped the initial rush of tears away, but his chin still wobbles when he stops in front of him. Tim lets his bag fall to the floor and wraps his arms tight around him, a warm squeeze with every bit of sword-training honed muscle. ]
I'm so sorry, Aemond. [ Pressing a kiss to his temple, over his hair. Not letting go. ] I'm gonna be here, okay? You got me through, when it was Hawk. I'll be here for this. For anything.
[ It's so much more than a debt, but if that were expressed to the fullest right now, with grief and confusion wildly spidering in so many different directions, he'd be sure to lose what little of his composure he's grasping onto. He'll just have to trust Aemond to understand. ]
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2024-12-16 10:29 am (UTC)the nature of aemond's covetousness means he has not considered that, perhaps, his mother's death however temporary would have a strong impact on others. his mother is loved here. beloved, truly beloved unlike the sycophantic attentions poured upon her back home. and aemond sought to ruin it, whether he meant to or not.
now the consequences of his actions come calling, and it tastes bitter in his mouth. ]
I don't rightly know yet who had done it, but she was gored. Violently, as with the games.
[ his voice is truly hollow, as if speaking at a distance from himself. though he's passing through the stages of grief with alarming speed, circling through them over and over like a madman. ]
She's resting in my rooms. I can meet you outside.
no subject
Date: 2024-12-16 05:38 pm (UTC)[ It comes out as a whispering squeak, pure disbelief. It can't be like the games, because nobody wanted to hurt her during the games. Tim had used the power he was given to protect her, to the detriment of more likely targets, out of fear that they would, and he was never called to any action beyond roaming the hallways outside her door. Who would want to now? Who would dare, with the wrath of Aemond, most of the vampires, and a man with lasers for eyes on the other side of it? ]
Yeah. Outside. I'll--I'll pack a bag.
[ He'll forget socks and his toothbrush, in his haste, but he makes it in minutes, nearly running across the floors of the manor to get to Aemond. He's wiped the initial rush of tears away, but his chin still wobbles when he stops in front of him. Tim lets his bag fall to the floor and wraps his arms tight around him, a warm squeeze with every bit of sword-training honed muscle. ]
I'm so sorry, Aemond. [ Pressing a kiss to his temple, over his hair. Not letting go. ] I'm gonna be here, okay? You got me through, when it was Hawk. I'll be here for this. For anything.
[ It's so much more than a debt, but if that were expressed to the fullest right now, with grief and confusion wildly spidering in so many different directions, he'd be sure to lose what little of his composure he's grasping onto. He'll just have to trust Aemond to understand. ]