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[angotas]

Aemond Targaryen

vhagar

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COURT

DUSK

DORM

Room 304 with Striker

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➢ left on the table in his room

[darkspawn]

[ Neatly wrapped is a book plucked from the library about dragons, and on top of it is a simple note. ]

For your search.

— Pelrar

[angotas]

[ It's a long time before he responds. He doesn't immediately even go to his room, so he missed the note — and the gift. ]

You don't know what th

I won't ask how you knew. But if you insist on meddling, I have a task for you. Search these places. [ There's a neatly drawn map attached with areas circled. ] Tell me what you find.

—Mentys

[darkspawn]

[ In response, there's another neatly wrapped book — this time a tome about the histories of the area — and an atlas of maps, along with a note. ]

Nothing but cheap trinkets, supposedly magical, but the stones are glass and the metal is gold plated.

Untreated leather armor.

The travelling bard was amenable to penning a few of their songs down.

— Pelrar

[angotas]

[ Each one is carefully hoarded in a secret place in his room. Not that Eoghan needs to know that.

The next day, another letter is waiting for him. ]

The songs could prove illuminating. Keep the bawdy ones, though. I've no use for those.

[ An ink blot. ] What do you ask in return?

—Mentys

[darkspawn]

[ And Eoghan is carefully keeping all of these letters, bound and neatly folded, on his person. This time, Eoghan leaves behind a book about the fae and a thick, leather-bound journal. His note, this time, is written on the first page. ]

There's always a little truth in even the most exaggerated songs. Perhaps I could play them for you sometime.

Teach me your language.

— Pelrar

[angotas]

[ He's starting to debate whether he should be keeping all these books somewhere else. ]

Why doesn't it surprise me you're a bard as well as a commander. When did you find time to learn?

[ The next words are a little smudged. ] Bold as ever. Very well. But I will teach you in person, and you won't teach anyone else without my permission. Are we agreed?

—Mentys

[darkspawn]

[ It's certainly turning into quite the collection. Unlike the previous times, though, Eoghan leaves a delicately wrapped tart and in the journal, he writes back: ]

I picked it up in my youth between history lessons, and I had plenty of time to practice at camp. You know, where I come from, bards are assassins as well as wordsmiths. Fitting, I suppose.

Wasn't it you who told me to reach higher? As for your terms, we are agreed. I like the idea that it's something we'll share.

And I'll have another book for you next time, but I thought you'd appreciate this better today.

— Pelrar

[angotas]

[ For the first time, his reply arrives within the hour. ]

Let us hope your assassins are more skilled than ours. I've already survived an attempt on my life. Should you be feeling ambitious here, I'd welcome a second.

Of that, I'm certain.

The next time you bring food, eat it with me. I'd sooner have you test it first if I'm to accept such gifts from an assassin.

—Mentys

[darkspawn]

[ As promised, Eoghan leaves a book with this reply. This one is a collection of tales that are almost like bedtime stories, all of them about the fae. ]

I do like a challenge. Let's see if I can manage it. I'd hate to leave you disappointed.

Tonight then? Though I can promise you, my attempt would be far more intimate than a poisoning. That always seemed so anticlimactic.

— Pelrar

action;

[darkspawn]

[ Pushing open the door with his hip, Eoghan carries in an armful of things as he walks inside the room, setting it all down on the table in the corner before plucking out a neatly wrapped tart and carrying it over to where Aemond was sitting. ]

How did the rest of your conversation go? [ It had been clear that the dragonrider had been anxious, but truthfully speaking, Eoghan had been too, the significance of such an introduction far from lost on him. ] She is rather intimidating, your mother. I would like to think she and mine would have gotten along quite well.

[angotas]

[ Aemond was laying stretched out on the floor, having quite literally needed to be horizontal for a few minutes just to process everything that had transpired. It wasn't a great deal, but it was significant — even in its smallness. Still, he made no effort to move, which said a great deal about the trust he placed in Eoghan. ]

Perfectly, [ came his even reply, which was laughable considering his current position. ] Was your mother equally terrifying? [ It helped to focus on the man's voice, which had become quite familiar to him now. ]

[darkspawn]

I can see that, [ was his easy reply, and shrugging his jacket off, Eoghan moved to lay down next to him on the floor. The stone beneath his spine was nicer than he expected, or he had a lot of tension there. Either way, he it felt good.

Rolling his head to the side to look at him, Eoghan held the tart out for him to take. ] Utterly. I wish you could have met her. [ Eoghan's eyes crinkled at the corners, melancholy in the shade of brown of his irises. ] When she spoke, all of Highever listened. My father was the teryn, but everyone knew who was truly in charge.

[angotas]

[ Wordlessly, Aemond accepted the tart, popping it into his mouth and chewing while Eoghan spoke. He was silent, but listening, easily imagining this fearsome woman. ] She sounds like you, [ Aemond offered idly, though there was nothing idle about his words. ]

[darkspawn]

[ Smiling over at him, Eoghan turns his head and stares up at the ceiling for a moment. His eyes return to Aemond when he speaks. ] Does she? [ From the way his voice wavers, just enough, it's clear that those words meant a great deal to him. ] I can see a lot of yours in you. Intense. Passionate. Frighteningly intelligent.

[angotas]

[ Snorting, he shook his head a little. ] She's smarter than I am. And you're avoiding the subject. [ Aemond turned his head to pin him with a look. ] You know how to command a room as well. You make people want to follow you, though you don't lead how some might. It isn't immediately obvious that you're the one in command.

[ All of this information had been carefully gleaned over time, hoarded and studied like priceless trinkets. He felt ready to show them now. He was quite proud of his observations. ]

[darkspawn]

Am I? [ He was, to be fair, but he smiles at being caught out. He was about to correct Aemond on that dismissal of his intelligence when the dragonrider began speaking again and he just listens instead. ] How long have you been contemplating all of this?

[ Dropping one hand from where they had been folded over his ribs, Eoghan rested it beside Aemond's, pinky finger curled gently around the other man's. ] How do I lead then?

[angotas]

Long enough. [ It wasn't exactly an answer, but the way he curled his finger around Eoghan's in response said a great deal more about his feelings on the subject.

His heartbeat loud in the quiet of the room, Aemond glanced back up at the ceiling, a little frown tugging at his mouth. It usually meant he was thinking deeply. ] Too many believe themselves to be in control when they're being controlled. It's a dangerous game. A duel to the death.

[ A beat. Aemond looks at him again with a steady gaze. ] You use compassion as often as cunning. And you are very good at it.

right after Aemond left Kelson in the kitchen

[undertheweight]

Where are you? Are you all right? Unharmed?

[Wrathion's not panicking. Yet. But for some reason he's suddenly uneasy, and this is a paranoid dragon. And there's only one person he gets feelings like this from.]

[angotas]

[ He stops in the middle of the courtyard, bewildered, but also distracted, his stress levels too high to make sense of the message. ]

I'm unharmed.

[ A beat. ]

Are you?

[undertheweight]

Why wouldn't I be? Where are you?

[He hadn't been dead asleep, but he hadn't been awake, either. So he's a little bit disoriented, too. Wrathion might think he was reliving what he felt when the Dragon Isles awakened, but he knew he hadn't been on Azeroth...]

What's going on?

[angotas]

I'm in the courtyard. [ This can't be what he suspects it is, can it?

He's quiet for a moment, struggling to choose his words. ] I had a disagreement with someone. The matter is settled for now.

[undertheweight]

A disagreement.

[At this hour of the morning--but right, he practices the blade at this point in time. It wasn't as if he hadn't invited Wrathion to participate, the dragon had just preferred to be a lazy slug and stay in bed.]

You are well able to take care of yourself, I know. But perhaps I should take you up on your kind offer of blade practice. I would hate to lose my edge, here.

[angotas]

It would be wise. There are many threats here, even ones without a blade.

[ He's probably saying too much. But Wrathion was kind, and he might have useful information.

After debating with himself for a moment: ]

How well do you know Kelson?

[undertheweight]

[Things seem to be calmer. Foolishly, Wrathion almost allows himself to relax and to fall back into the witty sort of banter he affects casually. But then Aemond asks him that question, and the dragon scowls at his Leaf, briefly.]

What did he do?

[That may just be a telling response.]

[angotas]

[ Aemond hadn't wanted to sow discord amongst the group, especially because he had absolutely no experience with friendships. But this had been a legitimately unnerving experience. And Wrathion's response tells him his fears are warranted. ]

It appears as though he does not enjoy being refused.