FIRE AND BLOOD!

I think Aemon was very close to his cousins despite being 7-8 years older. He served both Daeron I and Baelor (the Blessed) as a kingsguard, and while it was Daeron he idolised martially, it was Baelor he was most emotionally connected to; after Baelor saved him in Dorne, he became almost fanatically devoted to him and to the Faith.

Except, he can't fast with Baelor, because he needs physical strength to protect him, and he cannot pray in the Sept constantly because he has his duties.

Instead, he adopts his own kind of private asceticism; he wears a hair-shirt under his armour, eats only simple food as much as he can, abstains from alcohol, washing with slightly too hot water and harsh soaps (and of course, he is celibate).

The self-flagellation is something that begins as a ritual he does only on holy days, alone in the sept at either first thing in the morning or the last thing at night. Seven strikes from a seven-tailed discipline. Later, when he is older and his emotional turmoil worsens, it becomes more frequent and more excessive, sometimes to the point he is bleeding - he finds it grounding.

"Maekar." When spending another day at Summerhall, with their father and the increasing horde of various relations, grew unbearable, it was Baelor who suggested a hunt. They ought to have brought guards, huntsman, dogs - instead, only themselves and the horses, and Baelor's hound running ahead. Baelor dismounted and let the horse graze, standing on a rocky outcrop. He fancied he could see all the way to Sunspear from here, sometimes; a silly indulgence. The afternoon sun warmed his face. "We could stop here aw—" he could not finish the sentence, as Maekar caught him in a kiss. Baelor rolled his eyes, affectionate. "You fancy yourself a romantic."

Maekar was so glad to be away from the castle. He loved his family, of course, but it was much harder to seek some solitude when the castle was full to bursting. Not only did he enjoy his own time in general but the children running around, the wives fussing... all that was compounding in a massive headache just behind his eyes, which is why he was so glad when Baelor suggested a hunt. Grateful that his brother only took a hound and his horse, Maekar felt like he could finally breathe.

He’d already dismounted himself and was fussing with the saddle - checking the bags and relaxing some of the straps a little to give his horse some respite. It wasn’t a particularly long ride but it was long enough; he reminded himself that he’d have to tighten them up again before they made off.

Once Baelor got down, Maekar smiled. It was tough, now, back from the war, to find time when they could be alone like this. He stared at him for a few long moments, admiring the way that his brother’s face looked - much more Dornish than he and, in the sun, he looked golden. It was then that he decided to steal a kiss - just a peck, truly, brief and sweet, unlike the hungry kisses that they stole in alcoves when there was no time to enjoy one another.

He grinned at the comment and brushed his brother’s hair away and off his face.

He leaned into Maekar’s touch, smiling softly. He knew Maekar like he knew himself; of course he had known how overwhelming he found the busyness of Summerhall.

“It is nicer to meet out here than in King’s Landing, though.” he laughed, “Much easier to hide from our kin, than from the entire court. Do you remember when Lord Hightower nearly caught us outside the council chamber? I thought my heart was going to jump out my throat.”

Baelor laughed, before turning back to look at the view.

Lady Rohanne Webber 🕷🌹

Rohanne: You are quite mad. If you were better born, I’d marry you.

Duncan: Aye, m'lady. And if pigs had wings and scales and breathed flame, they'd be as good as dragons.

❛  i don't believe you anymore.  ❜ ❛  i don't have anything left to give you.  ❜ ❛  i don't know how to forgive you.  ❜ ❛  i don't know how to stop loving you.  ❜ ❛  i don't know if i hate you or miss you.  ❜ ❛  i don't know how to act around you anymore.  ❜ ❛  i don't love you anymore.  ❜ ❛  i don't need your pity.  ❜ ❛  i don't need you to save me.  ❜ ❛  i don't recognize you anymore.  ❜ ❛  i don't think we can fix this.  ❜ ❛  i don't think i can survive losing you again.  ❜ ❛  i don't want to see you again.  ❜ ❛  i don't want your apology.  ❜ ❛  i don't want to be your second choice.  ❜ ❛  don't ask me to stay.  ❜ ❛  don't ask me to be okay with this.  ❜ ❛  don't come back to me just because you're lonely.  ❜ ❛  don't leave me here alone.  ❜ ❛  don't lie to me again.  ❜ ❛  don't love me only when it's convenient.  ❜ ❛  don't make me choose between you and myself.  ❜ ❛  don't make me hate you just so i can let you go.  ❜ ❛  don't pretend you're the only one who suffered.  ❜ ❛  don't say you love me unless you mean it.  ❜ ❛  don't tell me what to do.  ❜ ❛  don't tell me this was all for nothing.  ❜ ❛  don't touch me.  ❜ ❛  don't turn this around on me.  ❜ ❛  don't you dare hold my past against me.  ❜ ❛  you don't deserve me.  ❜ ❛  you don't get to decide when i'm done hurting.  ❜ ❛  you don't get to hurt me and call it love.  ❜ ❛  you don't get to mourn me after killing every part of me that loved you.  ❜ ❛  you don't get to rewrite what happened just because you regret it now.  ❜ ❛  you don't have to pretend you missed me.  ❜ ❛  you don't know how many times i waited for you.  ❜ ❛  you don't know what i gave up for you.  ❜ ❛  you don't understand what you did to me.  ❜ ❛  you don't understand how tired i am of being strong because of you.  ❜

To die for a hedge knight did not feel right. To die in a place like Ashford and not some grand battle did not suit. To die in the arms of someone else and with no family around or no son to hear the last words felt a different kind of cruelty in which a resentful bitterness had taken root inside the prince. 

It was not easy to lose a parent, but…. 

He had not thought it would so deeply jade him.

“Was it not you who collected the coin? And now you mean to tell me you have no notion of where it has gone?” she asked coolly, one brow arching ever so slightly. It was then that she withdrew her hand, folding her arms across her chest as she regarded the boy with mounting disappointment. Perhaps you are right, I should speak with your father instead. He should know his son has taken to thievery.”

She paused for one moment, continuing to stare him down.

But... he really didn’t want his father involved.

He rummaged in his pocket and dropped a handful of coppers in her hand.

“‘Tis all I have, m’lady.”