hymen: (205)
𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐫𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐫𝐞 ([personal profile] hymen) wrote2024-06-09 05:50 pm
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— SALTBURNT INBOX.



WELCOME TO THE SALTBURNT NETWORK USERNAME: LITTLEPRINCE

unapparent: (121)

[personal profile] unapparent 2024-11-25 01:21 pm (UTC)(link)
Better it is not a woman, when bastards got us into this disaster of a succession.

I’m angry that one who claimed to be my friend is fucking my child, Embry.


[ angry here meaning hurt. alicent has not had a friend since she became queen — larys and cole wanted of her flesh, and chose her boys over her in the end, anyway.

and now tim takes of her son. so it goes. ]


And that this one also professes to be only capable of a singular, wholehearted love for another, so my son will be left in pain by this, invariably.

[ and she’ll pick up the pieces, like always. ]
Edited 2024-11-25 13:22 (UTC)
unapparent: (219)

[personal profile] unapparent 2024-11-25 02:07 pm (UTC)(link)
Yes, that is why he has Harry. Must he also have my son?

Any tenderness will only make the heartbreak more painful when he chooses Hawk over my Aemond at every turn. I have seen them in the werewolf game, Embry. They would sacrifice all for each other.


[ a beat. ]

It is Tim who told me.

[ admitted begrudgingly because he did the right thing there, and won a measure of respect, if not mercy. ]
unapparent: (129)

[personal profile] unapparent 2024-11-25 02:54 pm (UTC)(link)
You need not flatter my mothering now, of all times.
I know I cannot control it, else I would do something other than complain to you!


[ like order them both around, which she won’t bother with. although she calls aemond child, she knows him to be a man grown. ]

Yes, I was.
And now I have the pleasure of watching her cavort about this place with her uncle husband, while I kiss her in secret.
Should any know of it, as you and Tim do, and speak of it, I shall be hanged by mine own sons for the crime.

Because none are partial to me, Embry. Not truly. Is it so selfish to wish for things of my own?


[ it is, and she knows it, more girl than queen in her outrage. she has never had a friend or a lover that was hers. tim’s betrayal picks at her oldest wound. it’s about him. it’s not about him. alicent has always wanted for what she cannot have, and it smarts every time she lets herself believe any different. ]
unapparent: (078)

[personal profile] unapparent 2024-11-26 12:20 pm (UTC)(link)
I know.

[ that he understands and that none would let her come to harm here. it's westeros, where she'll pay her dues. his sorrow for her lot still catches her off-guard, when so few have ever expressed it. ]

The drawing room on the second floor, in the west wing.

[ she doesn't want lestat to hear her erratic heartbeat or pathetic thoughts. ]

I should've done more for you, Alina, and Ash then. I'm sorry.

[ in that first, brutal round, she'd found jacaerys' killer for rhaenyra and sweet baela, as recompense for the child aemond stole from this world, but she ought to have done more. hounded tim for answers, when she first drew the parallel between embry and alina. reached out to ash. protected alina from harm. even after being forced to choose over and over again, alicent wishes she could shield them all. ]
Edited 2024-11-26 12:22 (UTC)
unapparent: (232)

[personal profile] unapparent 2024-12-16 11:23 pm (UTC)(link)
[ in the drawing room, alicent sits by the roaring hearth, back against the legs of an armchair, knees swept aside at her place on the floor. not befitting a queen in the least, but then none of her behaviour has been in accordance with her station today — as outraged as she was on driftmark, knife in hand. as hurt as she was the night she learned of rhaenyra’s lies, too. aemond and tim are both children, in their own ways, young and careless.

alicent never had the luxury of such foolishness.

even as she hears the door creak open, she doesn’t look away from the embers. it is not so egregious, this unkindness, as the others she has known, yet it hurts more for being preceded by warmth. trust, given so rarely, when she should know better than to offer it at all. and still you reach for it. by inviting embry to witness her pain, by speaking to him about it at all.

a shocked gasp-turned-laugh, at the pettiness of embry’s opener. she clasps a hand over her mouth, courtly instinct, before she thinks again and lowers it. ]


You go too far. [ a protest without any commitment. then — ] Not an elephant, but perhaps a hare.