[mild tw for marital rape/forced 'consent' its only referenced a little, but it feels necessary to mention it]
imagine Alicent only standing up for herself when Aegon is in the picture. Imagine her talking her son to her chambers cause he's fussy and won't go down for bed and was asking for his mum, and she has him tucked close, blissfully asleep, and Viserys calls for her.
she knows she can't refuse, but she tells the servant he had sent to make him aware of Aegon's state. he still demands that she be brought to his chambers and that the babe go back to his nursemaid. she looks down at her baby, who's now woken due to the disturbance, who is staring up at her with soft tired eyes, a little yawn escaping him.
she doesn't want to go, she doesn't want to be forced to take her husband, to pleasure him at her own discomfort. she doesn't want to leave her son, to have him sent back to bed where he will remain restless and in the care of someone who is not his mother. she had never want to refuse more than she did in that moment.
she hesitates, her facade falters. Aegon is still looking up at her as tears well up in her eyes. he quirks his head at her, fingers reaching for her cheeks as if to comfort her. with a sudden conviction, she takes him in her arms, rising from the bed, requesting a robe and a blanket. when her servant looks at her in question, she clarifies that she will be taking Aegon with her and does not wish to rouse him in attempts to dress him. they look at her with shock, but don't voice the concern written on their faces.
they bring her Viserys's favorite robe. Alicent recognizes it from her time with Rhaenyra and Aemma. she's worn it before, Viserys has made sure the servants bring it to her every time he requests her. she hates the way it feels against her skin, knowing why he makes her wear it. she wraps aegon in his blanket, soft and royal blue, his hands beginning to play with its golden tassles as she tucks him inside her robe, pressed to her chest with care.
even as fear bites at her heels, anxiety churning her stomach, she walks to Viserys's chamber with her held high. she knows she is only asking for her husband's wrath; she knows she should just obey him, but she just can't. her son will not suffer a sleepless night and horrid following day all because her husband feels the need to use her body once more. he will not suffer at his father's hands tonight, even if she has to endure Viserys's anger for it.
she enters her husband's chambers, finding him in bed, in a white night gown, clearly ready to use her; he was never subtle when he asked for her, not even the first time.
she pauses in the doorway, pulling back the robe slightly, making him aware of Aegon's presence. she watches his face fall, barely muted anger. she holds onto Aegon tighter. part of her fears he may hurt her for this disturbance, but more of her fears he will hurt Aegon on her behalf.
"I told the damned servants to take him," his voice is warped and cruel, just an angry scowl of sorts.
"Aegon is not well, dear husband... I could not leave him," she admits before he can say anything else. she puts her foot forward as a mother, hoping to claim mercy from the man who made her one.
he mutters something in response, not quite loud enough for her to hear. she has a feeling she is grateful for that.
"what was it you needed, my dear?" she tries to sound sweet and kind, in attempts to abate his anger, "I'm sure I could still attend to it."
"you know what I wanted," he yelled. it had been the first time he'd truly raised his voice to her. she couldn't help but gasp, stepping back one step, than two, stopping when Aegon began to fuss, curling around him instead.
"Please Viserys, the baby." she ducks her head down to press her against his whispy white hair. her son his huffing, as if about to cry, and she's sure if she could see his face, his little cheeks would be red and his eyes would be crinkled and wet, his lip puckered. she begins to rock him slightly, still afraid to move.
"your'e dismissed," he grunts, but his tone gives it away. she knows he doesn't mean it, the if she leaves she will be in more trouble. she questions staying, calling a servant to take Aegon and giving him what he wants, but decides against it. he would not come before her son, not now, not ever.
"I'm sorry, my dear, another night, when I do not have Aegon to tend to," she forces some cheer into her tone, "he is still so young, so helpless. he needs his mother. I'm sure you understand?"
"he is not the only one in need of you." he had not lost his anger yet. not even for the sake of his son.
"yes, of course. forgive me. only he is not as understanding as you, my love." that wasn't the truth, Aegon was more kind and understanding at a year old, than viserys was in all of his years. "I will leave now. I am sorry for the disturbance."
she pauses for a moment, waiting for her husbands reaction. when he doesn't lash out at her, she breathes a quiet sigh of relief, feeling as though she has evaded a great beast. her heart calms in her chest, slowing from its fluttering and her stomachs stops its dizzing ache. she questions turning and running, fleeing from his presence before he can change his mind, but knows better.
she hurries to his side, eyeing him all the while, each step calculated, avoiding cracking any eggshells, until she is close enough to kiss his cheek. he allows it, and gives Aegon grace when he reaches out for him, letting him play with his finger a moment, before pulling it away, not even turning away fully before sneering. she takes that as her cue to leave, this one being much more genuine than the last.
"goodnight dear husband." he says nothing. she takes Aegon's little hand, waving it slightly, "say goodnight Aegon."
her son tries to imitate her, though unintelligible, as a toddler would. she continues to smile and coo at him even when his father ignores him, not letting him feel his father's scorn, quickly turning towards the door and back to her own chambers.
the second the door is close she feels herself sag, she would have fallen to the floor right then and there had there not been kingsgaurd watching. instead she holds her head high once more, walking calm and steady, like a queen should.
Aegon settles his forehead against her collar, giving a great yawn against her skin. she smiles at him fondly, kissing his brow, earning a tired little giggle from him. it hits her that he is unaware of the trouble he just saved her from. she feels equal parts relief as she does terror; she hopes he never knows, never understands, but is so so thankful for it none the less.
the second she steps into her chambers she pulls of the robe, setting it aside carefully despite the pain it brings her, respecting the memories it carried. she pulls back the covers before smothering her and her son amongst them. he's quick to curl against her, quite tuckered out after their harrowing adventure, even if he was unaware of its true weight. she herself still wanted to cry, but was similarly too tired to keep her eyes open for another moment. tomorrow, she tells herself, tomorrow will be difficult, but tonight you have your son, tonight you have a chance to rest.
so she does, she holds him close, tracing fingers over the gold threaded patterned of his blanket, feeling the shifting of his chest as he breathes and the tickle of his hair against her neck. all is well in that moment. she drifts to sleep at the thought.
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"Do you sit down in the shower, Tara?"
Tara blinked in surprised before narrowing her eyes. "What?"
Her new therapist, Abby Turner, was staring at her with a relaxed expression of genuine curiosity. She didn't really look the part of a therapist, sitting there in a yellow cardigan that matched the socks with SpongeBob on them. If anything, she looked a lot like a teacher Tara had in second grade minus the thick rimmed glasses.
"Do you sit down whenever you take a shower?" Abby asked again, shifting to cross her legs. She drew her fingernail over the metal clip of her clipboard.
Still, Tara was taken aback by such a question. She felt oddly seen through.
"Why?" Tara shot back instead.
Abby laughed softly. "There's no need to be defensive. I was going over our notes from last time and thought about what you said."
What she said? What did Tara say, exactly?
"I don't remember saying anything bad," mumbled Tara.
"No, nothing bad. I'm sorry if I made you panic."
At that, Tara hardened her gaze and looked away. Leave it to the therapist to know when her thoughts were spiraling out of control. God, Tara only had 7 sessions with her, and Abby thought she knew everything about Tara.
"It's ok if you do," Abby went on to say. Tara's face soured, and Abby unfortunately caught that. "Can I ask you a question?"
"Another one?" Tara tried to joke, but Abby saw through her facade. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were trying to play 20 questions."
She chuckled awkwardly. "Why do you sit down in the shower?"
"Because... I uh..."
"Take your time."
Tara was at a loss for words. Why did she sit down in the shower? She never really noticed she did it until Abby sent her back with homework to figure out things she noticed about her dailey routine. Which included an hour long shower; Tara would be sitting in the tub allowing the hot water to hit her back. While she sat, tremors would rack her body and her irritation would rise.
"I get in the shower in the morning," Tara explained slowly, still processing her thoughts. "Before class so no one has to see me all... icky."
"And do you think there might be another reason for sitting down?" Abby inquired. "I only ask because of your water bottle comment."
Tara looked unsure at that. She brought her hands to her lap to fidget with her nails. The comfortable gray armchair she sat on never felt more uncomfortable under the watchful eye of her therapist.
"S-Sorry, but I don't remember talking about that."
"That's ok," her therapist assured her. "Last time, you talked about how you needed to clean your room. You have a lot of water bottles on your table and floor, clothes in your bed."
Recognition flashed in Tara's eyes. "Right. Sorry."
"Depression and anxiety after a traumatic event is completely normal, Tara. In fact, I would be surprised if you didn't have one of those with what you've been through."
Tara shrugged. "It's nothing. Other people have been through more than me; I'm just being selfish."
Selfish. She had always been selfish; even her own mother thought so, and she made sure to remind Tara anytime she was in town.
Abby wrote something down, nodding to herself as if all of Tara's issues were understandable now.
"I sit on the floor," Tara suddenly said in the uncomfortable silence. She didn't look at her therapist at all, ashamed. "I get so... tired sometimes. And it isn't because of the metal in my leg! It's me! I wake up tired, go through the day angry because of how tired I am, and go to sleep tired. But then I can't sleep and I just..." She huffed in frustration, nails dug into her palms. "I don't know what to do."
Abby leaned back in her chair and flipped her clipboard over on her lap. Her eyes watched Tara's face closely.
"Is there anything you have that could help you sleep?" Abby asked. "A stuffed animal, a nightlight...?"
Tara's mind immediately drifted to her older sister. Sam was strong enough to keep Tara's night terrors away, yet she's soft enough to wrap Tara in her arms and calm her down. No matter how much Tara yells and sobs in her sleep, no matter the bloody scratch marks on her arms, no matter how Tara dissociates to protect herself. Sam was always there.
"No," Tara claimed instead.
Abby cocked her head. "And your sister isn't willing to help you?"
Tara shook her head. "No, she is but... I don't want to bother her with my problems."
Abby flipped her clipboard back over and wrote something down. Tara wanted to chuck the damn thing out the window. She lowered the clipboard again.
"Based on what you've told me about your sister, she sounds like just the person you need at night," Abby pointed out with a soft smile. "I'm sure she'd be willing to help if you asked."
'But I can't!' The words burn acid on Tara's tongue.
"Ok."
Fuck.
[♡♡♡]
Tara raised her hand at Sam's door and drew it into a fist. It hovered in the air for a long few seconds.
Then she knocked.
The door opened not even a second later, and Sam was standing there rubbing her eyes.
"Tara?" Sam mumbled. She instantly woke up, eyes darting over Tara looking for some sort of injury. "Are you ok? What are you doing up right now?"
"Can... Can I sleep in here with you?" Tara asked and before Sam could respond, she was babbling. "I'm sorry if I woke you up with this. Fuck, I'm so stupid. This was a mistake, I didn't mean to wake you up with my stupid problems. I-I'll go back to my room. Sorry -"
"Tara."
Tara's breathing hitched when Sam gently cupped her face, and - Oh. That was actually kind of nice. She sank into the warmth of Sam's palms.
"Let's go to bed, ok?" Sam whispered.
Tara nodded, throat thick with emotion. "Ok."
It was about 20 minutes later when they were settled in Sam's bed. Tara was dozing off finally, face buried into Sam's chest as her arms wrapped around her.
She stirred slightly when Sam kissed the top of her head. Her fingers tucked a few strands of hair out of Tara's face.
"I love you, Tara," Sam muttered.
Tara, too exhausted to say anything, simply turned her head and kissed Sam on the palm. She settled back down and relaxed into a peaceful sleep.
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There is so much nuance to the ep 6 scene between KJ and Lauren, I can’t get over it.
the motion older!KJ makes as they walk out, reaching for Lauren, realizing just in time that they are, in fact, in her hometown in Ohio and cutting short before she can land what was probably going to be an instinctive kiss
KJ coming in hot with the world’s most polite “hello!” and managing to make what must feel lightly like small talk for thirty seconds before dropping her voice to this shy, slightly-terrified question
the inability to hold eye contact. the faltering, wordless noises. the way she blinks like she’s seconds from just passing out in the middle of this theater--that is exactly how it feels to come out to someone for the first time. the edges of your vision go a little fuzzy, your heart is in your throat, you genuinely feel shaky, and all of that is so present in this performance
the sense of mild defeat in how she just lands on “movies” instead of “girls”, like she’s embarrassed she can’t just say it
the gentle ah hah expression on Lauren’s face as she realizes what this petrified kid is trying to ask her, and how smoothly she doesn’t correct her--just rolls with this safe code word
KJ’s nod and very tiny “uh-huh” without moving like any part of her face. like she’s reverting to standing as still as possible, protective coloring coming up in every inch of her frame
Lauren actually taking a minute to think about it before answering. and and then not giving the answer KJ asked for--”how did YOU know”--but what KJ actually needs to hear. what any kid in her position would: not everyone will get it, but everyone’s journey is their own, and there is no rush
(again, this is why I’m so delighted they wrote it the way they did--KJ and Lauren, not KJ and older!KJ, because older!KJ would have a definitive answer to give. it might be “I always knew, in the back of my mind” or it might be “when I was eighteen and kissed a girl for the first time”, but whatever the answer, it would cement KJ back into a box. this is your future, immutable, and there is no journey you could take that I haven’t already gone on. I’m so fucking glad they didn’t do this, that they let her have the reassurance that any timeline is the right one if it’s hers.)
again, that flutter-blink/quick breath combo that looks like she’s gonna pass out--but this time, there’s relief in it. it’s less “how do I say this Huge Thing” and more “oh thank god, she knows what I’m asking, she knows without me saying, and she’s being kind”
It is beautifully put together, such a gentle way of saying to this baby gay, “Nobody can tell you who you are except you, but whoever that winds up being is so okay. Listen to yourself. Trust yourself. You will be happy, I promise you.” It is a critical bit of advice so many queer people just don’t get, and to write it into KJ’s story is one of the show’s biggest kindnesses.
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