I was. Still am, I suppose - betrothed to a lady of a great House, with an army worthy of a prince of the realm. I do not remember her name or face, truthfully; I met her the once in the middle of a storm.
Had I a sister to marry, perhaps Mother would have betrothed me sooner. I've always understood I would marry as bid. It is my duty as son of the king, and I should be glad for the privilege.
[ but what is there to be glad about, if it means marrying some common-blooded girl? he cannot say it; it would dishonour his own mother to even think so. ]
[ In some ways, it's a difficult conversation to have without seeing Aemond's face or hearing his voice. An intimate one, for Dorian, better suited to the quiet drawing room they'd found themselves in the night they met.
But it does untangle a knot for him, talking about this with Aemond. So many in the Inquisition just see him as the pampered, privileged Tevinter noble; they don't understand what he left behind, what was expected of him that he couldn't bear. ]
Maybe I would have felt differently about carrying on the Pavus legacy, if marriage between two men was allowed back home. Or if I could come to love a woman without turning into a shell of myself to do so. But neither of those things are true, so I suppose I'll never know.
I imagine it's selfish to say it, but I'll be selfish for a moment. I'm glad you're here, and not married to a girl in some far-off place where I never would have met you.
I would not have met you otherwise, if not for this here place. For that, I am thankful you made your way here too.
[ how can he explain to dorian the depths to which heβs come to desire him? even with his lady the fire had burned slow, steadily rising over the days and weeks, nurtured over months. aemond has known dorian for scant a fortnight and already he knows he would mourn is disappearance if he were to leave. aemond desires him, wants him, wants the whole of his knowledge and the fullness of his desire.
it is unbridled greed, what aemond feels for the man. they come from the same well of familial despair but are two different men brought up into the world, and aemond wants to see how they might unravel together. ]
I will not ask more than youβre willing to give, Dorian, beyond one thing. Tell me the truth, when your desire fades and I am only a soft warmth in your eyes. However ugly the truth will be. I will hear it.
[ when you're living with a death prophecy hanging over your head β when you know your life has been forfeit almost half as long as you've been alive, with the odds stacked against you from the beginning β it's hard to exit the mindset of looking to the end first before anything gets to start.
aemond likes to keep his promises. it's hard to do that when you know death looms so close he can taste it in his mouth every time he remembers. ]
Honesty for both of us, for as long as we remain fond of each other. And with hope, out of respect for each other in the aftermath.
[ In truth, had Aemond not brought it up first, Dorian would have asked the same as soon as he'd mustered the courage. They don't speak of feelings in Tevinter, because there's little hope for them to become something real; but for all that Dorian thinks of himself as someone who is careful with his own heart, guarding it behind glittering armor, he's fallen twice in this place before even realizing he'd stumbled.
Foolish. But maybe better to be a fool than full of regret for a risk not taken. ]
[ the crown of westeros devours everything in its path, and few things taste as sweetly as the misery of its royal family. aemond knows this is by design; why else would otto have a dead prince paraded among the smallfolk for sympathy, and more so why would such a gambit succeed? the same crowd that cheers for their triumphs is the same one that celebrates their downfall. everything they own, everything they are belongs to the kingdom.
to be truly dutiful is to want nothing beyond itself. though aemond has built himself to be the perfect son in his mother's eyes, and fashioned himself after the most loyal of his line, he knows he takes for himself here what he shouldn't.
after alicent's death and its complicated aftermath, aemond is done apologising for his perceived faults. he wants. in particular he wants dorian and his attention, his affections, all of it β he will have what he is given, until it sours in his mouth. ]
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no subject
I was. Still am, I suppose - betrothed to a lady of a great House, with an army worthy of a prince of the realm. I do not remember her name or face, truthfully; I met her the once in the middle of a storm.
Had I a sister to marry, perhaps Mother would have betrothed me sooner. I've always understood I would marry as bid. It is my duty as son of the king, and I should be glad for the privilege.
[ but what is there to be glad about, if it means marrying some common-blooded girl? he cannot say it; it would dishonour his own mother to even think so. ]
What a pair we make, don't we.
no subject
But it does untangle a knot for him, talking about this with Aemond. So many in the Inquisition just see him as the pampered, privileged Tevinter noble; they don't understand what he left behind, what was expected of him that he couldn't bear. ]
Maybe I would have felt differently about carrying on the Pavus legacy, if marriage between two men was allowed back home. Or if I could come to love a woman without turning into a shell of myself to do so. But neither of those things are true, so I suppose I'll never know.
I imagine it's selfish to say it, but I'll be selfish for a moment. I'm glad you're here, and not married to a girl in some far-off place where I never would have met you.
no subject
[ how can he explain to dorian the depths to which heβs come to desire him? even with his lady the fire had burned slow, steadily rising over the days and weeks, nurtured over months. aemond has known dorian for scant a fortnight and already he knows he would mourn is disappearance if he were to leave. aemond desires him, wants him, wants the whole of his knowledge and the fullness of his desire.
it is unbridled greed, what aemond feels for the man. they come from the same well of familial despair but are two different men brought up into the world, and aemond wants to see how they might unravel together. ]
I will not ask more than youβre willing to give, Dorian, beyond one thing. Tell me the truth, when your desire fades and I am only a soft warmth in your eyes. However ugly the truth will be. I will hear it.
no subject
But I also ask for that honesty from you. I would always rather know sooner than later. For both of our sakes.
no subject
aemond likes to keep his promises. it's hard to do that when you know death looms so close he can taste it in his mouth every time he remembers. ]
Honesty for both of us, for as long as we remain fond of each other. And with hope, out of respect for each other in the aftermath.
I am so fond of you, Dorian. Think of me tonight?
no subject
Foolish. But maybe better to be a fool than full of regret for a risk not taken. ]
I'll dream of you, if you promise to dream of me.
π
[ the crown of westeros devours everything in its path, and few things taste as sweetly as the misery of its royal family. aemond knows this is by design; why else would otto have a dead prince paraded among the smallfolk for sympathy, and more so why would such a gambit succeed? the same crowd that cheers for their triumphs is the same one that celebrates their downfall. everything they own, everything they are belongs to the kingdom.
to be truly dutiful is to want nothing beyond itself. though aemond has built himself to be the perfect son in his mother's eyes, and fashioned himself after the most loyal of his line, he knows he takes for himself here what he shouldn't.
after alicent's death and its complicated aftermath, aemond is done apologising for his perceived faults. he wants. in particular he wants dorian and his attention, his affections, all of it β he will have what he is given, until it sours in his mouth. ]
Be well, Dorian. Good night.