House of the Dragon Mafia/Solo-verse AU. Written between March 2nd-7th, 2023. Partially RPed out with Eri. Real talk: I'm a little self-conscious about the portrayal of one of the characters. I'm trying very hard not to vilify this person and make it clear that one person's bias is just her bias. I was also trying to be ... somewhat subtle due to said self-consciousness, but it's honestly quite obvious. Some beats in this are fairly contrived, as well. I guess I'll just stick with my usual "Don't like, don't read" defense. Naturally I had to have a CXGF reference ("Who's the new guy? I don't trust him!") and, yes, you're going to have to get used to seeing Shadow ;)
I do have a lot more to add to this, but I figured it's best to just get what I've got so far typed up so I can move on to other moments in the timeline :D
After the
holidays, Troy came back to school to find a red-haired stranger in his room.
“Hey, man,” he
greeted the redhead. “I’m Troy.”
The other boy
smiled at him from the bed, which had been made to look like a nest more than
anything. “Shadow. Or Shad."
Troy nodded
affably. “You new here?”
“Yeah, just
started. My parents move around a lot, and I guess right now we’re here.”
Troy took this
all in. “Cool. Have you met the rest of our hall yet?”
“Yeah, are the
people in charge of assigning dorms on drugs or something?”
Troy shrugged. “Maybe.
Drugs are pretty common.”
“Have you seen
the guy across the hall? He looks….” Shadow gave a low whistle. “Serious.”
Troy didn’t
answer. What could he say to that? At least Shadow wasn’t insulting
Aemond. Instead, Troy asked, “You met the girl next door yet?”
Just then there
was a knock on the door, perfunctory, until it swung open and the girl next
door strode in and threw her arms round Troy’s neck.
“She your
girlfriend? Should I leave you two alone?” Shadow asked.
“No, stay—”
“It’s fine—”
They both
answered at the same time.
Cygnet chuckled.
“Hey, I’m Cygnet. You must be Troy’s new roommate. Just so you know, we’re not
exclusive.’
Troy raised his
eyebrows at her. “Thanks for that,” he said.
Shadow stared at
them, trying to figure out what was going on between them.
“And don’t worry
about Aemond,” Cygnet continued, pointing to the door. “He may look scary, but
he’s a real sweetheart if you can get past the giant walls he puts up."
“He mostly keeps
to himself,” Troy added.
Cygnet gave Troy
a strange look, then tilted her head. “Have you met the new botany teacher?"
she asked, voice carefully measured, as if she was turning the topic
deliberately towards something light and pleasant. Troy knew her better than
that, but he’d probably find out what she was up to soon enough.
“You’re taking botany?”
Troy asked.
Cygnet shook her
head slowly, not taking her amber eyes off Troy’s turquoise ones for a second. “Désmoda
is. But I hear the new professor’s quite the cougar. Maybe I’ll audit it. Trent
will understand if I have to cut back my hours at Mad Tech. My education’s a
good cause, right?”
Indecipherable
doe eyes. What the hell was she on about?
“I think he’d
prefer if you found a way to combine the study of plants with his latest
surveillance gadget, however that would work,” said Troy, trying to figure it
out.
Cheshire grin. “Why,
Troy, you’re a genius,” Cygnet purred. “I think I’ll do exactly that.”
She kissed his cheek, winked at Shadow, and scampered off.
Troy and Shadow
exchanged a confused look, then Troy shrugged. “She works for my dad. Sometimes
she’s just… like that,” he explained.
“She seems nice,”
Shadow said politely.
Troy nodded. “She’s
nice,” he agreed. “Listen, what she said—if you want to, you know, sleep with
her, and she’s game, please, feel free.”
Shadow sort of
stared at him. That was forward. He’d never met a guy who just offered up his
girlfriend like that. “I’ll think about it. Thanks,” he said, not wanting to be
rude. Yeah, Cygnet wasn’t a bad-looking girl, but if Troy was that willing to
share her, there must be something… off about her, right?
“Sure, anytime,”
said Troy, unaware he’d said anything out of the ordinary.
Cygnet ended up
signing up for botany since there were still a lot of open spaces before
classes started. Somehow, it didn’t seem to matter that she was the only
underclassman on the roster.
“How the hell
did—” Désmoda’s question died in her throat when Cygnet subtly flashed
something in her palm.
“Favor,” Cygnet
mouthed.
“Regards,” Désmoda
mouthed back.
Cygnet slipped
the recording device subtly into the pocket of the professor’s floor-length black
cloak, which hung from a hook on the wall by the door, then sat next to Désmoda
near the front of the class.
“I have one just
like that,” Désmoda murmured. “It’s almost like she’s one of us.”
Despite their
four-year age difference, Cygnet simply said, “You may have a point.”
When the
professor strode back into the classroom, Désmoda nudged Cygnet. “Why didn’t you
tell me they hired your mom?”
Cygnet looked
up, then treated her friend to a deadpan stare. “Funny,” she said dryly. “That’s
not Sola and you know it.” But likewise, Cygnet knew what Désmoda meant: Their
botany professor looked like Cygnet might in twenty years, all creamy skin and
long dark hair and eyes that looked like they knew more than anyone had the
right to.
“Welcome to
botany,” she said in a voice as cool and clear as glass, and the lesson began.
Study group had
expanded since the beginning of last semester. It used to be just Troy, Aemond,
and occasionally Cygnet. Then Cygnet had started bringing Cin and Dés. Now
Shadow was hanging with them too. Actually, Shadow tended to hang out a lot of
places Troy was. He’d even tried out for the football team. Aemond knew this
because now all of a sudden half the team was joining them, ostensibly to
study. Troy wouldn’t have invited them, so that left exactly one possibility.
Aemond noted
with some satisfaction that Troy’s new roommate didn’t seem overly comfortable
around him. But that alone wasn’t enough to make Aemond stick around in a
crowded study group when he’d much rather be alone. He bailed out before dinner
the first week, but someone then had the bright idea to try to hold study group
in his room. He’d left immediately and stormed round the halls till he’d
bumped into someone, sending a stack of books clattering to the ground.
“Perfect,” he
muttered. “Sorry.” Without looking up, he gathered he fallen books and returned
them to their owner. He was already sweeping back down the hall lost in his own
thoughts by the time she’d dismissed his apology.
He and Troy were
friends again, and Troy wasn’t any less nice than usual, but there was a
distance between them now. Meanwhile, Troy’s new roommate, Shadow, was clearly
all over him. So was Cygnet, but that wasn’t unusual.
Cygnet. She was
likely to know something about the new guy. (Aemond didn’t trust him.) He
turned round to head back to their hall and nearly collided with someone again.
He closed his eye and pursed his lips in frustration.
“Sorry about
that,” said a woman’s voice in front of him. “I seem to keep showing up in your
blind spot.”
Aemond opened
his eye, and his annoyance immediately melted away. Standing before him was a
striking woman, raven of hair and ivory of skin. He felt the corners of his
mouth rise in a smile. “I’ve been careless,” he said. “Excuse me.”
“Actually, there’s
something you can help me find,” the woman said. “It seems one of my students
planted a tracker on me. I’d like to find her and ask what she was thinking.”
“Perhaps if you show me your roster,” Aemond
began. But she was already shaking her head.
“Please, escort
me to your dorm. If I’m not mistaken, Miss Campbell resides there, too.”
“Cygnet?” Aemond
asked rhetorically, partially reeling from the idea that she knew exactly who
had put a tracker on her. He was fairly certain she wasn’t a robotics professor;
did she know Cygnet worked for Mad Tech? “Why would she want to spy on you?”
Cygnet had also
bailed on study group, shortly after Aemond left. She’d hoped the most, well, studious
among them would be able to lend some damn structure to the group, but alas. So
she’d stalked off across the hall to Troy and Shadow’s room. She’d just
finished her homework and had chosen to strip off and climb into Troy’s bed to
wait for him when she heard a familiar voice outside the door.
“Maybe she went
to dinner with the others. I’ll text Troy.”
Cygnet didn’t
bother getting dressed before rushing to the door and opening it. “Hey, Aemond—Professor.”
She grimaced. “You found it, didn’t you?”
“Would you like
to explain what was running through your empty little head?” Aemond asked
tightly.
Cygnet’s grimace
turned to a soft, sweet, innocent smile. “Of course,” she said in syrupy tones.
“As you know, I missed Sebastian’s 35th birthday—oh, he’s the lawyer
for the firm where I’m interning—and I thought as a belated gift, I’d test out
some of our firm’s new equipment. I’m really sorry, Professor. I should have
asked if you wanted to be my guinea pig.”
Aemond was
none-too-pleased at the reminders that 1) Sebastian was round the same age as Aemond’s
mum, and 2) Sebastian was still practicing law. He clenched his jaw, not least
to keep it from dropping at Cygnet’s audacity. “Why,” he gritted out
coldly, “would you do him any favors?”
Cygnet giggled. “Silly
Aemond. If only you knew.”
His hand
twitched at his side as he resisted the urge to pull a knife on her.
“Sebastian’s
done you favors, hasn’t he.” The other woman saw fit to join the
conversation. “He defended an English professor you had a run-in with. Took him
to dinner afterwards. He hasn’t been seen since, has he?”
Cygnet laughed
again. “Yeah, that’s old news,” she said. “Freshman year old. Unless… you’re
implying he’s been found?”
Those fucking
doe eyes. Why does she like to pretend she’s so innocent?
“Not by the
authorities,” Aemond’s companion said calmly. “It can stay that way if you’d
like, Miss Campbell. All I ask is that you be… hmm… selective in what you share
with your employer about me.” So saying, she coolly, deliberately straightened
the tracker that was now on her lapel.
“Of course.
Thank you,” Cygnet replied. “Although, and I’m sure you know this already, our
little family say the rosary to the loophole, not the law. Please enjoy the
rest of your night, Professor.” She retreated into Troy’s room and more-or-less
gently closed the door, then flopped onto Shadow’s bed. Désmoda had been right,
she thought, to tip her off about the new teacher.
The study group
had, of course, devolved into a party by dinnertime, so naturally Cin and Désmoda
took it upon themselves to get everyone completely fucking wasted, except Troy.
“No, my parents
gave me this truck so I could designated-drive all you party animals,” he said,
referring to the Dodge Ram he’d gotten last Christmas.
“Okay,” said
Shadow, “so you know what we’re gonna do? I’m gonna take a shot for every one
that you refuse. I’m gonna take your drinks for you and you can live
vicariously through me.”
Shadow was
already two drinks under by that point, and Troy shook his head.
“Nah. I don’t
want you waking up in my bed asking me all kinds of crazy questions and
throwing up on my favorite rug.”
But somehow,
Shadow still ended up getting embarrassingly drunk by the time they got home.
Therefore, he was only slightly surprised to find that crazy girl from earlier
in his bed.
Crazy or no, she
was supple and responsive, leaning eagerly into each clumsy touch, returning
each sloppy kiss. Shadow didn’t even notice Troy leaving the room again as he
lost himself in his new roommate’s girlfriend.
Aemond hadn’t
had much time to decompress or process anything after he and Cygnet’s professor
parted ways. He was understandably annoyed when he heard a knock on his door
before he’d had a chance to get his damn shoes off.
Troy quailed
before his favorite friend’s thunderous expression. “Hey,” he said nervously. “Mind
if I crash here tonight? Shadow and Cygnet are….” He made a face. If possible,
Aemond’s expression grew even darker, but he waved Troy inside and closed the
door. Before Troy could ask what was wrong, Aemond spoke.
“Don’t sleep
with her anymore.” His voice was soft as usual, but his hands were clenched
into fists at his side. “She put a tracker on her new teacher as some sort of
demented gift for….” His mouth twisted unpleasantly.
Troy didn’t
understand. “You think she’s still sleeping with him?”
“Does it matter?”
Aemond barked, startling Troy. “Either she sides with him or she sides with me.
You get a pass from choosing because you’re his son, but the least you could do
is stop letting her fuck you.”
Troy held his
hands up, then backed out of the room and closed the door. Before Aemond could
decide where to go, Aemond came out, too.
“Sleep in there
if you want. I need a smoke,” he said. Troy nodded. Maybe after Aemond calmed
down, they could talk. Productively.
For now, Troy
went into Aemond’s room and made himself comfortable on the unoccupied bed. He
picked a shirt up off the ground and stuffed an unused pillow into it, then
kicked off his shoes and curled up to sleep, clutching the pillow to his chest.
He missed his Aemond, his best friend, the one who he understood.
He didn’t like this feeling of having to tiptoe on eggshells. They’d just
gotten back to school. How was Troy going to ask Aemond not to police who he
slept with, without risking setting Aemond of again?
Besides, he already
knew what would happen if he called it off with Cygnet. The second he told her
it was because Aemond didn’t want him to, she’d go on a rant about how it was
none of Aemond’s business unless he was planning to make Troy his boyfriend. So
instead of thinking about it, he decided the safest option was to just curl up
and go to sleep.
Cygnet woke up
in Shadow’s arms. She checked the clock on her phone, which had just enough
battery power to get her through the day. 6:30 a.m., just like always. She
nudged Shadow awake.
Shadow sat bolt
upright in bed.
“Easy,” Cygnet
said. “Just get dressed. It’s breakfast time.” She went over to Troy’s side of
the room and raided his closet for a faded pink Grateful Dead shirt and a pair
of shiny forest green jeans. When she went to wake him up after pulling her
clothes on, he wasn’t there.
“Should’ve
known,” she muttered to herself. She went across the hall, gave Aemond’s door a
perfunctory knock, and let herself in.
Troy woke up
with heavy sleep creases on his arm and numbness in his fingers. His watch was
digging into his wrist. Someone was tugging his pillow out of his arms.
“Aemond?” he
murmured hopefully.
“Aemond isn’t
here,” came the voice of his other best friend. “It’s time for breakfast.”
Troy stood,
stretched, and crossed the room. “Aemond… didn’t come home last night?” he
asked rhetorically. Instead of making some sarcastic remark, Cygnet came up
next to him and squeezed his hand.
“Come on,” she
said gently. “We have to show Shadow the way to the dining hall.”
Troy nodded
after a pause, and they escorted a sleepy and somewhat grouchy Shadow to the
dining hall. Troy bought breakfast for all of them and they sat at the usual
table.
Aemond wasn’t
there, either. Instead, he was two tables down engaged in an animated
conversation with some lady. Cygnet saw them, too, and something was
going on in that head of hers because she picked her tray right back up and
went to sit with them. Troy and Shadow followed.
“Good morning,”
Cygnet said with a cheer Troy was sure she didn’t feel. “Aemond, we missed you
at wakeup call.”
Aemond’s smile—his
lovely genuine smile, the smile Troy had been missing all winter—didn’t
falter. “I slept off-campus,” he explained casually.
“Cool.” Cygnet
nodded. “Seems you pried Désmoda off your brother in time to get her
here for breakfast.” She waved her friend over. “How is Aegon doing, by
the way?”
Aemond had
stopped smiling right around the time Cygnet had mentioned Désmoda and he was
now prodding awkwardly at his eggs. Troy’s mouth went dry. Aemond hadn’t come
back to the dorm last night, nor had he gone home.
Apparently,
Shadow caught it, too. “Where did you sleep, then? A cabin in the woods?”
Aemond looked
up. “I prefer ‘cottage in the forest.’ More cozy, less implication of an
axe-murderer.”
Désmoda slid her
tray onto the table and sat down. “Who’s an axe-murderer?” she asked, sounding
absolutely delighted at the thought.
“Professor
Rivers,” Cygnet replied, grinning.
The air went
still, but Désmoda didn’t seem to notice. “Morning, Professor,” she said
easily. "Aemond, Troy, Cygnet… sorry, new boy, I already forgot your name.”
“Shadow Clement,”
the new boy said. “I think my parents met your parents.” To the rest of the
table, he explained, “Both our parents are diplomats.”
“Mm, correction,”
Désmoda said, waving a piece of toast. “My dad’s a diplomat. Mom’s a titled socialite.
And they’re both back home in Hungary.”
“That’s why I’m
residential this semester,” said Shadow. “My parents are out-of-country, too.”
“Same here,”
said Cygnet. “My mom’s a fashion designer in France and my dad’s in the French
service.”
Troy and Aemond
blinked at her. Before either could ask how the hell she knew what “Diarmuid
Something” did for a living, she continued.
“The divorce was
so hard on my mom, for a while we just wanted to pretend he didn’t exist. Mm,
but that’s boring. Troy’s parents basically took me in. They’re great. A techie
and a lawyer, both own their own practice. I’m actually here on their
scholarship and interning at their tech firm. Oh, and Aemond’s parents—well, I’m
sure he told you last night. What, uh… what does your family do,
Professor?”
“It’s time for
class,” Aemond said, standing and taking his tray to empty. “Coming, Troy?”
“Yeah, I’m right
behind you,” Troy said with relief.
He waited till they
were in the classroom and therefore fully out of earshot of Cygnet before
asking. “Did you spend the night with that teacher? She didn’t take advantage—?”
“It’s not like
that,” Aemond interrupted. “I needed to get out of here. She let me sleep on
her couch. She… understands me.”
“That’s cool.”
Troy tried not to assume he was implying that Troy didn’t understand
him. He wasn’t sure if he was relieved. It wasn’t his right to be jealous, he
knew that, but his feelings were hurt that Aemond hadn’t wanted to sleep
in his own room just because Troy was there.
Aemond waited
for Troy to say something else, to look at him rather than staring straight
ahead, to smile and take his hand like he normally would. Troy being impassable
was unusual for him. Was he jealous? Or was he pissed at Aemond for
their fight last night? Aemond thought about reaching his hand out to take Troy’s,
to reassure them both, but before he could, Troy was pushing open the door to
their classroom.
After they sat
down, Aemond whispered, “I changed my mind.”
“About what?”
Troy sounded guarded.
“You and Cygnet.
Maybe if she goes back to fucking you instead of Shadow, she’ll nose out of—”
“That’s pretty
rich, man,” Troy said. “No offense, but who I sleep with isn’t exactly your
business since we’re not together. You want me to tell her to butt out of her
teacher’s private life? Yeah? Then you butt out of my sex life.” He
swallowed and closed his eyes.
“Fine,” Aemond
replied, trying like hell to ignore the unpleasant feeling that tore at him
watching Troy fight back something. “The same goes for the both of you if
I start sleeping with Alys. Neither of you has the right to say a fucking thing
about it.’
Troy didn’t look
at him. Didn’t even open his eyes. Just tilted his head back to face the
ceiling. “Whatever, man. As long as you’re not being pressured, you’re right,
it’s nobody’s business. You could do me a favor and make an effort to be
discreet about it.”
Aemond scoffed. “You’re
being ridiculous.”
Now Troy did
look at him, turquoise eyes brighter than usual. “Yeah, you got me,” he agreed.
“I guess being in love with you is pretty ridiculous.” He stood and
slung his messenger bag over his shoulder. “Take notes for me. I’m gonna go do
laps.’
Shit. Aemond closed his eye briefly. “Troy—”
The door opened
before Troy got to it.
“Going
somewhere, Mr. Lita?” asked Professor O’Donnell.
For a brief,
shining moment, Aemond hoped Troy would shake his head and sit back down. O’Donnell
didn’t give athletes special treatment. But Troy didn’t seem to care. He looked
O’Donnell square in the face and said, “Yes, sir. I’m skiving off class to swim
laps. Oh.” He reached into his messenger bag, selected a folder, pulled out a
packet, and handed it to O’Donnell. “Here’s my homework. I’ll see you on
Wednesday.”
“Mr. Lita, there’s
a pop quiz today,” O’Donnell said before Troy could leave.
Troy looked
between Aemond and O’Donnell, ignoring the groans of the rest of the class. “I’ll
take the F,” he said.
“For fuck’s
sake, Troy!” Aemond snapped. “Stop being a stubborn cunt and sit down.”
That got his
attention… and unfortunately, everyone else’s. A ripple of laughter wove
through the class.
“Language,” O’Donnell
said testily. “This is a classroom, not happy hour down at the pub.”
But Troy took
his seat, so Aemond counted it as a win. He reached for Troy’s hand. “I’m…
sorry.” The words had never come easily, and he almost choked on them now. Troy
looked at him with a chillingly unreadable expression, but allowed Aemond to
take his hand. They continued holding hands as they sat the exam; luckily,
Aemond was ambidextrous. Professor O’Donnell didn’t like it, but since each
kept his eyes on his own paper, he had no grounds for complaint.
Troy released
Aemond’s hand when class was over and swiftly left the classroom without him.
Aemond hastened after him and caught his arm in the hall.
“Hey,” he said. “That
was… nice.”
Troy didn’t
move. “What you said in there wasn’t. Thank you for apologizing, but if you want
us to be friends still, you will never call me a cunt again.”
Aemond remained
silent. He knew he shouldn’t have lost his temper with Troy, knew his friend
was sensitive at heart despite how cool he acted, but he didn’t regret getting
Troy to sit his stubborn ass down and take the pop quiz, which Aemond even
suspected O’Donnell had moved up on the spot to punish Troy for trying to skip
class.
After a long
moment of awkward silence, Troy pulled his arm away and kept walking to
political science. At least he’s not skipping, Aemond thought.
When he’d taken
his seat, Aemond leaned over and whispered, “I am truly sorry fi I hurt your
feelings”—Troy scoffed and moved to stand—“but, BUT, you shouldn’t fuck
your grades just because you’re mad at me.”
When Troy
responded, his voice was cold and without emotion. “You need to stop telling me
what to do.”
Another awkward
pause.
“Well, I love
you, too,” Aemond whispered, almost to himself.
“I appreciate
the sentiment, but your timing’s shit. You can’t say that just to end a fight.”
“Now who’s telling
who what to do?”
And that’s
all I got round to writing! Stay tuned for the next entry in the Solo-verse
Melodrama Soap Opera!
