𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 | 𝐚𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧.

𝐕. 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐓

A/N: Or the chapter when Drusilla fucks up so badly that she almost ruins the whole plan, and all just because she forgot about existence of one unhinged motherfucker.

«A human-like desire—to ache for one thing, and while getting it finally, missing the old one—was tearing me apart almost all night. I am afraid that though the Highgardens was never a place that accepted me—not a home, even—in some special moments I missed it more than I would admit to myself. Or perhaps, I was missing people and not places. Or perhaps, I was missing myself. But then I realised: I don't quite remember myself anymore. And you can't miss something you never know.»

— From Drusilla Tyrell's diary.

•

'...Your handwriting is terrible, though.' He muses, with the most annoying smile on his face.

Drusilla's eyes roll as she lightly slaps on the hand he is stretching to her, and shakes her head.

'Shut up. It is not that bad.'

But it is... Well, quite awkward. Not royal-like. Aemond knows it well, because despite the differences of each hand-writing, most of the houses give their heirs plenty of lessons, and calligraphy is one of them. Drusilla's handwriting looks as if it is written by a kid that tries to copy their parents' handwriting. He wonders if it could be because she spent some time in absolute isolation, even without teachers and Septa?

'Even Aegon's one is better,' Aemond adds provocatively as the step even lower on the rocky hill, side by side.

It was the sixth day after their first proper conversation, and everyday they tried to spend at least an hour with each other, sharing some memories or talks. And he might admit, Drusilla was an amazing companion. Even when she tried to hit him with a book, for „absolutely disappointing opinion on the best book of this decade" it felt... Well, funny, maybe.

Aemond is bad at understanding humour, but he likes hers.

'Oh, shush,' she almost stumbles, sending herself in the flight down to the sea, when Aemond catches her by the elbow. 'Thank you, thank you, I am fine... Definitely don't want to repeat the scar incident.'

He huffs.

The scar incident was in fact the stupidest history from their shared childhood together. He remembers how all of them decided to play rebels and went exactly here, in this spot, the strangest cliff that could send everyone in death's embrace. Should he mention that everything ended up by Irellea, who slipped and got the biggest scar down her leg, almost drowning to death?

Oh, how mad mother was... It is a good thing that they blamed it all on Aegon and Augustus.

'You seem in a better mood than before,' Drusilla notices, when they get back on the proper ground, sighing.

... Aemond doesn't really know how she does it - always guessing his moods by simply gazing at him, even though he rarely expresses it openly.

'Don't give me that look, Aemond. I know what I am talking about.'

'...Slight miscommunication in the small council, nothing too serious.'

'Can I help?'

Truth to be told, Drusilla is a great help already. Sometimes, she speaks aloud her thoughts about certain political matters that she hears when Otto talks at the family dinner—she pretends not to understand a thing around others, though—and Aemond realises that options she suggests are smart. Rational. He never admits it aloud, though.