«I remember my first time seeing Augustus; I was eight back then, the gloomy stare on my pale face as his sister, a six year old girl, danced around, dirtying her white dress in mud, despite my warnings that she shouldn't do that. Augustus was ten, and he watched Drusilla with the numb expression on his face. When he noticed my presence, he asked, voice, though still childish, quite powerful for his age...»

— From Drusilla Tyrell's diary.

•

It is afternoon, three days before the big ceremony, and two days after Vaemond Velaryon's disappearance, when they all go to meet Augustus Tyrell. Drusilla is enthusiastic even more than usual—jumping side to side, antagonising every existing soul, including Otto Hightower—brother's arrival being clearly the most awaited.

'Careful, Silla,' Aegon sighs as the girl jumps through three stair rungs, almost tripping on her long silky dress. 'Do you want to break something before your wedding? I mean, I would advice to break your pretty head, because the music mother chose on this ceremony is just awf—'

'Stop jinxing her,' Aemond hisses instantly, catching her by waist, carefully spinning around and pulling down on the ground, so she doesn't trip on stairs as his brother said. 'Look around, love. You wouldn't like getting hurt, hm?'

Alicent watches all of them carefully, a wide smile on her face.

She can't help but stare adoringly at the way Aemond's face softens—his habits and touches, too, and even the voice!—when Drusilla is around. She might not notice this, doesn't have anything to compare with, but he is the happiest Alicent had seen him for a long years.

'Sorry!' Drusilla pats his shoulder. 'I just miss Augustus so much... And he was in the North! He always brings back the best gifts after visiting it! I mean, they are probably from Cregan, but still...'

'Lord Stark, am I right?' Her father chides in carefully. 'If I am not mistaken, he was one of Lady Tyrell's broken marriages?'

Alicent sends him a warning look.

It sounds like a simple question, of course, but she knows her father. He wants to know everything about everyone, especially about someone, who can be considered to be their ally when the time comes.

'Ah, yes,' Drusilla glances away, suddenly shy. 'He is not a bad man, Lord Stark. Just sometimes... I guess, sometimes, things are not working.'

Alicent instantly feels bad for this girl.

They never discussed why she had so many unsuccessful fiances—except her brother, this case was quite clear for everyone—and Alicent couldn't even understand how anyone was able to break the marriages with this sweet, gentle soul.

As far as she knows, Jacaerys was the only case where Drusilla refused a man herself. Cregan Stark and Jason Lannister, both of them, were first to send her away.

How stupid of them.

'Yes, yes, of course,' Otto smiles at her, thin lips curling in the usual smile he puts on his face for everyone. 'It is nice that your brother still supports relationship with him.'

'They are sworn brothers,' Drusilla answers without tension. 'I think it is a good thing that my marriage with Lord Stark ended before anything else happened.'

'Oh?' Aegon slightly leans over her shoulder. 'Is there are some hot rumours, sister in law?'

Alicent rolls her eyes.

'Aegon.'

Drusilla blinks owlishly.

'Ha? What do you mean? I am just glad that I reunited with Aemond. He is exactly the man of my dreams,' her cheeks instantly fire up.

Aegon pretends to puck.

Aemond... Smiles?

Alicent watches almost bewildered as her son truly smiles, not in the taunting way as usual, not even bitterly. He just smiles. He used to smile like this when he was much younger, but nowadays he does it rarely, and sneakily, even.

Oh, her sweet son.

How she missed seeing him like this!

'I am glad to have you as my future wife as well,' his words come out a little bit hushed, but heard by others, anyway.

Before anything else happens, they hear the sound of horses and loud stompings.

Augustus Tyrell appears on the road, riding the white, majestically beautiful horse. They say it is his favourite one, the most powerful one, even. They also say that it is his sister's gift, his lucky charm, even.

But all of these thoughts disappear, when Drusilla almost wheezes as she spots her brother. He only manages to stand on the ground, patting his horse as a reward, when she runs towards him so fastly, that if not for Augustus's arms hugging her in time, she would fall.

'Augustus! My brother!'

'Ru-ru, my own soul.'

Augustus's voice is less cheerful and loud than his sister's, but it is gentle and loving. And his blue eyes shine with the same enthusiasm as his Drusilla's, when they press their foreheads together.

'Are you okay? How was your road?' Drusilla asks impatiently.

'Slow down, sister,' he laughs, hand coming to pat her head, ruining her hair completely. As Augustus turns to them, he bows his head. 'I am welcoming all of you. I appreciate your invitation. Thank you for having me.'

'It is no problem,' Alicent assures him. 'We glad to have you here.'

'I assume your father will arrive later?' Otto muses.

Augustus's smile fades a little bit, and his face is apologising, when he eyes Drusilla.

'Mother is being the illest this year. She is most likely to pass away soon, therefore, father is not daring to leave her. I... I don't think he will attend.'

The corner of Drusilla's lips twitch for a second, but she tries her best to keep her cheerful expression.

No mother to help her get ready, no father to dance with her for the last time, before offering her to her husband. What a lonely girl.

'That is a shame,' Aemond furrows. 'I wanted to see the father of my wife.'

'I am pretty sure you will, just not this week. I apologise profusely.'

'If Lady Tyrell wishes, I,' Otto suddenly gestures at himself, 'would gladly dance with her for the tradition.'

Alicent slightly purses her lips.

She knows what her father is doing. Playing a good role of father for a little girl that doesn't have anyone. She knows it too well; it was her once that he fooled like this. And who if not her understands, how easy it is, to believe in him.

'What for?' Augustus tenses, the flame of possessiveness firing in his eyes. 'Ru-ru will have a dance with me. As her elder brother, it is only my duty to ensure that she will be in safe hands.'

But it is not the same isn't it? Alicent didn't have anyone back then. Drusilla has her brother, her husband... And if men break their promises, Alicent is here.

'Augustus,' Drusilla smiles widely, 'you are the best!'

He rolls his eyes.

'Yes, yes, I am. Now, please, why not get inside? I have gifts prepared for everyone. The North was quite generous to provide me with them. No, Ru-ru, you will get yours only on the marriage day. Don't give me that look...'

•

'People pleaser,' Drusilla hisses as soon as the door closes behind them.

'Psychopathic bitch,' Augustus answers in return, hands folded on the chest.

They glance at each other for a solid minute, identical empty eyes—there is no shine in them, when they are all alone, lacking audience—blinking, when Drusilla smiles at him, sharp and absolutely unhinged. In a way that could mean only two things: she is amused or has another great plan. Sometimes, it is both.

'God, I missed your annoying presence,' she admits, and Augutus knows it is the nicest thing that could come out of her wicked mouth.

'Tell me about that,' he retorts, plopping on the chair.

In some way, their relationship is absolutely cursed. In some way, Augustus had learned to find comfort in them.

Because if anything happens, he goes to Drusilla for help or solution. Because if he has some thoughts that he cannot reveal to others, it is Drusilla, to whom he writes. It is not scary to be honest in her company. In fact, in this world of hypocrisy and nobility, she might be the only one who he can... Well, trust. It sounds ridiculous, considering her character, but she and him are too connected, too tied with secrets to betray each other.

'The more I spend time around these people, the more I wonder how anyone could be possibly more insane than you,' he huffs as Drusilla sits down in front of him, with two filled cups in her hands. 'Old hag, religious bitch, rapist and...'

Drusilla raises her brow.

'...And your future husband. The fact that he loves you itself means that he is batshit insane, Drusilla.'

'Fuck you.'

They clink their glasses, sending the whole cup of wine in their throats at once.

'Seriously, though,' he hums, a good wine always making him kinder than he is. 'Are you keeping up?'

'Do I look like I am not?' She clicks her tongue, reaching for a bottle. 'Though, I expect the wedding to be just awful. But that is beside the point.'

They decide not to discuss the wedding that had been held almost a week ago; Drusilla warned him, and he simply congratulated her - he couldn't give less a shit about Targaryens traditions. Or about Aemond Targaryen.

'As the wedding will be finished, I assume our letters would be more tracked down,' Drusilla continues, slowly moving forward. 'They are nice and allow you to be free when you are a guest, but when the door of the golden cage closes you can't do anything without them watching.'

Augustus nods.

Very expected.

'Then what do we do?' He also shifts closer to her side, putting his elbows on knees.

'I will think about that.'

Just as usual.

Drusilla is always like this, and Augustus used to be scared of her, the first years of their cooperation. He remembers reaching atop of the castle, where she hid, finding her surrounded by thousands of papers, all written down. She schemed, and schemed, and when her brain was too devastated to think, she read. Augustus put her in sleep sometimes, if he could; not like he cared, but still.

Now, he is not scared. He finds it amusing; the contrast between her looks in front of people, and the real her.

'How is Cregan?' She asks, breaking the silence.

Oh no.

Not again.

'I, too, have something prepared for your wedding,' Augustus pretends not to hear her question.

Drusilla copies his pose, and grins, devilishly.

'Hm-m? Are you willing to help me with something?'

'I am,' he agrees unwillingly. 'I thought it would be awfully crude to have a consummation ceremony.'

Drusilla shrugs.

'I will not have problems with it, if you are worried.'

Well, of course. Her obsession with Aemond Targaryen runs too deep, to expect her ever to lay with another man or woman.

When they were younger, not for once, Augustus tried to tell you that it is okay to have other lovers. And least, for a short time. Women or men, doesn't matter. But she only furrowed at him, continuing to sit all alone, telling that she is a loyal woman.

It seemed funny. Especially when she met him...

'I am not worried. I simply think that they should go and fuck themselves with this idiotic traditions to perform. My sister shouldn't have her marriage consummated in front of some men.'

Drusilla laughs suddenly.

She is always like this, smiling and laughing about things that shouldn't seem enjoyable, and furrows on good news.

'Ah. It is not the consummation process that you are worried about. It is my honour,' she catches him by the chin. 'How sweet. You are good at playing my brother. So convincing that you, perhaps, convinced both of us.'

They are not related by blood by any means, no.

But they are related by the blood that both of them spilled willingly, that day so many years ago.

'I had learned from the best,' he parries, finding himself copying the exact same smile on his face. 'Well, are you listening or not?'

And it is more meaningful.

It is deeper in a way, in which his relationship with his sister never could.

'Always.'

•

'They are so sweet, I am going to throw up our dinner just on Aemond's shoes,' Aegon complains as all of them standing on the balcony, watching Tyrells riding hoarse and laughing.

Aemond moves on a few steps away from his brother, leaning over the balustrade.

He assumes that Augustus knows that a woman he calls his sister is not the one to be her. Either way, their relationship wouldn't change so drastically at once—he knows it, because his relationship with brother would never change, no matter how different he tries to be—and Irellea needed some help after Drusilla's death.

Yet, it makes him wonder what exactly makes Augustus to stick to Irellea. What are his motives? What is his relationship with Irellea? Is he... Perhaps, in love?

'That is how normal siblings act, Aegon,' mother rolls her eyes.

Aemond ponders about all broken marriages again.

Jason Lannister isn't exactly a noble man, but what happened between them, so he himself sent Irellea away? And had she anything to do with Cregan Stark? They say he is the noblest man in the Seven Kingdoms, and there are some... Fondness with which Irellea talked about him, when it was just two of them.

'Sorry, mom, wouldn't know,' Aegon responds poisonously. 'In my family they make you fuck your siblings.'

And Jacaerys... He can't say what exactly happened, and, admittedly, he forgets all the time that his nephew was one of men, who tried to marry Irellea. Well, she sent him away herself, so there is no reason for thinking about it too much.

'Pff,' Helaena laughs suddenly, quickly covering her mouth. 'I am sorry.'

'See, Hela could be funny sometimes,' Aegon smiles at his furrowing mother.

Aemond spaces out, until someone elbows him, unwillingly turning attention back. At this time, there are no Tyrells in the garden, and Alicent left the balcony for a while, making it just three of them.

'What's up, brother? Dwelling on your upcoming loss of your freedom?'

Ignoring obvious joke, Aemond asks:

'What happened between Drusilla and Jason Lannister? Or Cregan Stark?'

He doesn't know why he asks them of all people; Helaena is always hiding from court matters in general, and Aegon was drunk most of the time. Yet, his brother is always so invested in gossip, that, perhaps, he heard something.

'Oh, you are jealous!' He giggles, and theatrically turns to Helaena, pretending to whisper her a secret. 'Aemond is jealous!'

Helaena shakes her head.

'I can see that, Aegon.'

Aemond is fighting the urge to throw his brother from this balcony.

'Well, as far as I know, Jason Lannister made a hu-uge scandal, while breaking his marriage off,' Aegon explains finally. 'You know, he is a little bit of a dick. Called Silla stupid, useless woman or something like that.'

Hm.

Was it intentional?

'Tyland Lannister says that it was not her mistake,' Helaena intervenes quietly. 'I heard he is in a very good relationship with her.'

'Yeah... Someone told that Silla cheated on Jason with his brother, but, you know, looking at Silla makes me wonder that this woman doesn't even know what felony is...'

Tyland Lannister...

Aemond doesn't like him much, but yes, he is more respectable than his brother.

Whatever happened with Jason Lannister, it might be something Irellea planned herself, that is for sure.

'And Cregan Stark?'

'That is where everyone is absolutely helpless!' Aegon exclaims. 'There were no scandals or commentaries from either side! They were a good couple, though... Everyone said so, at least. And in one day Cregan just... Well, said that it is over. Honestly, I think there was some sort of misunderstanding. They could be the mo-ost bright couple in Westeros.'

Aemond furrows.

He had never seen Lord Stark himself, he can't say who he is or how he acts. Yet, he is definitely better than Jason, and that is a little bit... Unpleasant to realise.

'Brother shouldn't be worried,' Helaena suddenly appears on his left side, touching his shoulder. 'What was in the past stayed there. And I am not sure if there even was something meaningful. Arranged marriages rarely end up being genuine.'

It makes him relax a little bit.

Of course. Why would he even think otherwise?

Irellea spent years trying to return to him. He is the love of her life, not them.

'I was just curious,' Aemond lies.

'On your place I would be much more interested in her brother,' Aegon hums. 'They are too close!'

'Aegon, don't project our lack of connection in the family on poor Tyrells,' despite sounding soft, Helaena clearly is sarcastic.

'You meant our fucked up connection, sister?' There is silence, and Aegon explains: 'Well, fucked up. Game of words. Because we fucked!'

'Aegon, quiet...' Helaena murmurs, embarrassed.

Aegon gasps scandalously.

Aemond furrows even more.

Irellea is not incestuous. But, well, they are not brother and sister, in the end, right?

A/N: I am reminding you that Augustus is the ONLY reliable narrative in the whole story, lmao. He will not be here for too long, but... 

Anyway, we are going to have the absolute mess- I mean, wedding, in the next chapter.