[ his best is more than aemond or aegon could ask for. more than they could have expected in a place like this, where friends are rare and allies true even more so. he'd noticed nicholas start to pale halfway through his efforts, as if his own abilities are fighting him from within — given what he's learned of magics, he thinks he's got the right of it on most accounts.
magic is not to be trifled with. aemond knows the weight of what he's asked. ]
And you've done remarkably. House Targaryen gives our thanks.
[ he gives nicholas his own handkerchief, so that he might use it to wipe himself clean before he must depart. this next part is for he and aegon alone. ]
Please speak to no one about what you've done until then. For your safety, most of all.
[ this is a great power. a terrible, horrifying power in the wrong hands, even if he doubts nicholas is the type to wield it for brutality. aemond reaches for him and wipes the sweat off his brow, then presses a small kiss to the top of his head — as a grateful lord might for a loyal commoner. ]
Go. Please. I will find you later, Nicholas Ó Broin.
[ he takes the handkerchief with a small nod, even though what he really needs is a shower, preferably several hours long and hot enough that he can't feel his skin anymore, but he recognises the gesture for what it is at least. he's careful in the way that he wipes the worst of the blood off of his hands, gentle reverence in all his movements even now. the work might be done, at least as much of it as nick can be responsible for, but there's still a dead woman at his side and grieving sons with him.
it's horrific, frankly, what happened here, but it isn't the time for questions. aemond is pragmatic enough that nick feels safe in assuming he would have been alerted to an imminent threat — anything else can wait, for now. rising back to his feet, nick hesitates for just a moment before he reaches out to squeeze aemond's arm, a gentle pressure just above the elbow, a quick little comfort before he lets go again. ]
I'm really sorry this happened to her.
[ the words are offered as gently as the contact, quiet enough that they don't demand a response. nick doesn't wait for one anyway, this next part isn't for him. he just lingers long enough to offer the words, and the touch, and then he leaves, to let her sons tend to the process of cleaning alicent up. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
magic is not to be trifled with. aemond knows the weight of what he's asked. ]
And you've done remarkably. House Targaryen gives our thanks.
[ he gives nicholas his own handkerchief, so that he might use it to wipe himself clean before he must depart. this next part is for he and aegon alone. ]
Please speak to no one about what you've done until then. For your safety, most of all.
[ this is a great power. a terrible, horrifying power in the wrong hands, even if he doubts nicholas is the type to wield it for brutality. aemond reaches for him and wipes the sweat off his brow, then presses a small kiss to the top of his head — as a grateful lord might for a loyal commoner. ]
Go. Please. I will find you later, Nicholas Ó Broin.
no subject
[ he takes the handkerchief with a small nod, even though what he really needs is a shower, preferably several hours long and hot enough that he can't feel his skin anymore, but he recognises the gesture for what it is at least. he's careful in the way that he wipes the worst of the blood off of his hands, gentle reverence in all his movements even now. the work might be done, at least as much of it as nick can be responsible for, but there's still a dead woman at his side and grieving sons with him.
it's horrific, frankly, what happened here, but it isn't the time for questions. aemond is pragmatic enough that nick feels safe in assuming he would have been alerted to an imminent threat — anything else can wait, for now. rising back to his feet, nick hesitates for just a moment before he reaches out to squeeze aemond's arm, a gentle pressure just above the elbow, a quick little comfort before he lets go again. ]
I'm really sorry this happened to her.
[ the words are offered as gently as the contact, quiet enough that they don't demand a response. nick doesn't wait for one anyway, this next part isn't for him. he just lingers long enough to offer the words, and the touch, and then he leaves, to let her sons tend to the process of cleaning alicent up. ]
🎀 done.