Chapter Text

As soon as she saw him through the impeccably clean front window, Ally rolled her shoulders nervously.

By the Seven, he was beautiful.

From the sleek, almost colourless hair to the invariably well-cut, dark clothes accentuating his long-limbed frame, this mesmerising incarnation of a storm cloud was a breathtaking, awe-inspiring phenomenon to behold.

And dangerous, she reminded herself.

Also, she’d sworn that she had outgrown the need to be reckless and self-destructive just for the fun of it.

No, she’d do her job and let this gorgeous, wicked man be on his way.

She watched him as he pulled the door open with such vehemence that one might have believed the slab of glass and wood had personally offended him.

Purposeful, she thought, her curiosity piqued despite her better knowledge and earnest resolutions not to be seduced by the air of mystery and mayhem surrounding her favourite customer.

Make your brew and be done with it, girl, she told herself sternly as she picked up the disgustingly damp rag and wiped the counter mechanically.

As he drew up to her station, the young man’s demeanour changed. His lips puckered into an almost petulant moue, and his gaze shifted nervously to the display cabinet containing the establishment’s pastries and cookies.

“Hello, what can I do for you today?” Ally chirped.

Even to her own ears, her voice sounded thin and whistling, but she felt that clearing her throat would only draw more attention to her momentary lapse in professionalism.

Blushing, she tried to keep her bright smile from wavering.

“Tall, black,” he said in a soft, lilting voice while still adamantly avoiding her eyes.

Poor sod, Ally thought instinctively as she turned to the gigantic, wheezing contraption of gleaming pipes and searing steam.

His family, his life, and his problems were known to every soul in the region, and he couldn’t outrun them even in this cosy little coffee shop.

If it had been her, Ally knew, she’d also have preferred not to meet anybody’s eyes for fear of what she’d read in them—pity, disdain, or morbid curiosity.

“Coming right up,” she said, just a little too late and a tad too loud.

Thankfully, there were few other customers, and none seemed in the least interested in the painfully evident interest the barista showed in this involuntary celebrity.

Had he been anyone other than Viserys’s son, Ally might have pencilled her number on his cup and hoped for the best.

As it was, she preferred not to risk her job, her livelihood, and her very life for a pitiful attempt at doomed flirtation.

“Thank you,” he mumbled hastily as he took the flimsy cup without bothering with a protective cardboard ring. “Are you…Morning shift?”

Was this his first attempt at small talk?

Ally almost choked on her own tongue as her thoughts flew apart like startled birds.

“I’ll be here the whole day,” she answered breathlessly. “If you need an afternoon pick-me-up.”

A heartbreakingly sad smile flashed across his pallid face as he shrugged. “Yeah, maybe.”

And then, he swiftly stalked out again, breaking the moment of almost-complicity abruptly.

Ally watched him go, head cocked, mien grave.

What a shame he wasn’t someone else’s kid.

Chapter Text

In the end, Ally never learned whether her favourite customer had come back or not for, only an hour after his departure, the hitherto eminently trustworthy coffee machine had malfunctioned, scalding her forearm.

In the aftermath of the accident, the little coffee shop had to be closed for a few days, and Ally was sent home to recuperate.

As she now walked into the sparkling clean main room after her imposed rest, she told herself that she’d not thought about the under-caffeinated customers who’d had to seek their kick elsewhere in her absence.

More importantly, she had certainly not wasted a laughably long time musing about the fair-faced perpetual stranger whose daily visits—short as they were—gave her such illicit pleasure.

“Hey,” Bill, her most jovial colleague, called, wiping his damp hands on his apron. “There she is. Am I right in saying that you’re more than happy to be back at work?”

“Quite so, squire, quite so,” Ally laughed and let him inspect her slowly healing burn critically.

Bill, of course, only worked here because his parents thought that tasting menial labour was character-building, and Ally had often envied him for his superior position and potential.

Unlike him, she was nobody and took secret pride in the inconsequential fact that the people coming to their shop believed her to be some mysteriously gifted coffee-witch.

“You could have stayed home a little longer,” he tutted now, blessedly ignorant of how lonely and harrowing her time off had been. “Or are you really that desperate to see that one-eyed ghost?”

Grimacing warningly, Ally shook her head and swept into the backroom to get ready for her shift. It annoyed her that her weakness was apparently amply evident to those around her, and she decided to be more careful henceforth.

“He’s bad news, and you know it,” Bill insisted.

On her way to work, Ally had seen the garish front pages of various gossip rags, reporting on the latest developments in the ongoing inheritance and succession drama between the rich and famous who presided over their lives without ever taking the least notice of the likes of her.

“Are we still neutral?” she asked testily. The allegiances of their establishment were murky at best, and she hoped to stay out of the embittered conflict for as long as she could.

“Theoretically,” Bill replied with a crooked smile.

A moment later, his warm voice was lowered to a sharp hiss. “Would you believe it? There he is.”

Even as she hastened through the old-familiar motions, Ally saw her colleague and friend slinking out of the main room into the staff-only backroom.

“You serve him his brew,” he muttered. “As you seem to like him so well. I’m going on break.”

Thrown into an unexpected situation without being granted a moment to mentally brace, Ally rushed back to the counter, fumbling in her befuddled mind for an appropriately welcoming smile.

“Oh, hello. Open again,” the object of all her secret thoughts said—she wasn’t sure if it was a question or an impatient statement, and his impassive features gave nothing away.

“Yes,” she beamed. “Tall, black?”

He nodded sharply. His lips parted, but he didn’t say anything for so long that she had to consider that he was simply breathing, which was his good right, after all.

“You’re injured,” he then commented tonelessly.

Chapter Text

He did not come the following day, and Ally tried hard not to resent herself for having waved aside his exclamation with a nervous chuckle.

It had been painfully obvious that her controversial customer wasn’t used to minding or soothing potentially wounded people, and Ally had been on her own for far too long not to chafe at the scrutiny of another.

Now, after a whole day and half a morning of silently hoping he’d breeze through the door, she sincerely regretted having been so unpleasant about his earnest, even if somewhat awkward, kindness.

“Don’t make such a face—he’ll come back,” Bill teased. “Rumour has it he was sent to do important business somewhere else, but they all return sooner or later.”

Ally sincerely hoped so; she would not have admitted aloud that the stern, pale visage of a man who’d not even officially given her his name was the highlight of her day, but that made it no less true.

“You could invite him to…go look at the stars with you,” Bill prompted, tongue-in-cheek.

“As if,” Ally scoffed and, the shop being mostly empty, decided to experiment with a few new creations for the upcoming seasonal promotions.

She was so engrossed in her work that she almost threw the paper cup she was holding across the counter when a discreet cough announced the presence of a waiting customer.

“Good afternoon.”

Was she hallucinating, or was his voice just a smidgen louder and warmer today?

“What are you making?” he asked, lifting his hand halfway to the black patch covering the eye he’d lost in a childhood accident. Then, he bethought himself and let it sink onto the counter again resolutely.

“Oh! I’m just…playing around with flavours and textures,” she admitted sheepishly, resisting the near-overwhelming urge to fiddle with the cup's softened rim.

“Can I try?” he asked; he’d never spoken that much before, and they were both acutely aware of the incongruity as they stared at each other with tense anticipation.

“Sure, on the house,” she said, tucking away her felt-tip pen ostentatiously. “Tell me what you think.”

Nodding at the cap, protruding from her apron pocket, he mustered up a thin-lipped smile. “The name’s Aemond, but you knew that, didn’t you?”

In a moment of fatigue and folly, Ally winked. “Within these walls,” she husked, “you can be anyone you want. All you have to do is say the word.”

As soon as the words had left her lips, she knew that she’d said too much.

His face hardened, and his smile vanished.

Tossing an unwanted and unwelcome bill onto the counter, he lifted his cup—fragrant coffee concoction sloshing around without a single drop being spilt—and withdrew.

“What did you say to make him run for the hills? Did you really invite him?” Bill asked as he walked over from where he’d been wiping down tables and righting scattered chairs.

Rubbing her mangled arm absent-mindedly, Ally shook her head regretfully. “I didn’t even get that far.”

“Ah, never mind,” Bill tried to cheer her up. “Tomorrow’s another day, and your coffee is far too good for any of our regulars to forego it.”

He sighed deeply. “In this place especially, one cannot simply renounce the few simple pleasures one can get.”

As the man who’d just fled was one of hers, Ally could but wholeheartedly agree with that defeatist assessment.

Chapter Text

For the first time she could recall, Ally was nervous upon glimpsing the district manager—a friendly, jovial man—stroll towards the café.

As this was a social hub, frequented by both sides of the interminable conflict that overshadowed everybody’s life, the unspoken question of allegiances lingered in the air like a foul smell.

Trying to banish any thoughts of her botched conversations with the man Bill called a “wanna-be usurper” behind his back from her mind, she answered her superior’s questions with a queasy smile.

Ally knew that she was lucky to be in a job that allowed her to lead an independent, fulfilled life, and she was too smart to risk her livelihood when she had no skin in the game.

At least, not yet.

When the elderly man nodded, visibly satisfied, she had to repress the urge to expedite his departure, dreading a potentially ugly scene in her safe space if Aemond was to arrive for his daily beverage.

She wanted to know whether he’d tried her creation and whether he’d liked it, so she couldn’t bring herself to wish—even for a second—that he would skip his regular visit.

As soon as the manager had left, though, she came to rue the fleeting consideration when the door opened, and an entirely new customer shuffled in hesitatingly.

Helaena was a rare sight for anyone outside of her closest circle, but to have her bless their humble establishment of all places with her esteemed patronage was an honour that made Ally’s already churning stomach do tense somersaults.

“Ah, it’s you, no doubt,” the beautifully pale young woman said as she approached the counter. “You are, I think, familiar with my brother. I’ve come for the tea.”

The way her unsmiling lips curled around the word as if it was a dangerous thing to say out loud gave Ally pause, and she withheld any kind of reaction or answer.

Indeed, she was unsure whether her unexpected patron was referring to potential gossip of which she’d been hitherto blessedly unaware or the hot drink they sold.

She was awed and discomfited in equal measures by the odd gleam of unfathomable knowledge and shrewd wisdom in the other woman’s eyes, sensing that she was in the presence of one who defied and distorted any and all expectations and beliefs people might hold regarding her.

“He’s brought home a truly delicious drink yesterday, and Aegon—have you met him? No?—wanted to have one like that. They’re presently fighting about things that will be inconsequential before they’ll ever reach a satisfying conclusion.”

Blinking rapidly in an effort to make sense of the other woman’s ominous, cryptic words, Ally motioned helplessly at their selection of teas from around the world. “What can I offer you?” she asked, prompting a fast and disarmingly radiant smile to blossom on Helaena’s composed mien.

“Oh, I see why he likes you. I’ll have a white peach tea, please,” she answered amiably.

Then, the ephemeral gleam of joy faded from her face. “Something sweet for Aegon, and…the usual for Aemond. I hope they won’t be too upset that I came here in their stead.”

Ally, who could not imagine how anyone could be displeased with so kind and generous a service, shook her head in confusion and sudden dread.

“There’s much you don’t know about them,” Helaena said calmly. “And it’s for the better. I’d invite you to visit me sometime, but that would be overstepping. Bye now. Thank you.”

As she stood, thunderstruck by this chaotic meeting, Ally realised that she had spent far too much time watching the members of that infamous family hurry away without daring to speak the words or ask the questions that lay on her tongue like cold, smooth river stones.

If she wasn’t careful, she’d end up choking on them.

Chapter Text

“You’re really begging to be taken advantage of,” Bill groaned as he caught Ally staring longingly at the firmly closed door. “Men like that don’t step out with women like you; they take what they need to dispel their boredom and soothe their frustration and discard you.”

“Men like you, you mean?” she shot back, regretting her harsh words instantly when his face fell.

Without needing to hear the retort he bit back, she understood that he was moved and motivated by other secret, intimate experiences and prejudices he wouldn’t willingly share with the likes of her.

“Suit yourself,” he said in an uncharacteristically cold voice and promptly stalked into the backroom to sulk in solitude.

Ally groaned softly; she’d avoided picking sides for so long that she’d naïvely thought to be the chosen one who’d miraculously escape the poisoning impact of the omnipresent, seemingly all-powerful tension, thrumming like an open, wounded heart throughout the community.

She was about to follow Bill to apologise when the door she’d been watching like a hawk finally swung open, and Aemond rushed in as if pursued by the Seven’s wrath.

“Hello,” he called before even making it to her station.

“Hi,” Ally replied softly. “I hope your meeting went well. What can I do for you?”

He seemed to debate for a moment before pointing blindly at the board nailed to the wall behind her. “The caramel frappucino, please.”

As he’d never ordered so whimsical a drink before, Ally cocked one eyebrow in astonishment and disbelief.

“I take you by your word,” Aemond explained in a muted, tired tone. “Today, I don’t want to be…him.”

“Shame,” Ally blurted out as she felt her way along the counter in search of a clean mixing pitcher while holding his bewitchingly intense glare. “I’ve grown quite fond of ‘tall, black’, you know?”

That drew a small, wry chuckle from him, but Ally had barely any time to bask in her momentary victory when the door crashed open once more.

Never before had she thought of a paying customer as being an intruder, but she now felt a surge of impatience flash through her.

And then, she looked up and froze.

“So, this is where you disappear to, hmm? I couldn’t be the only one not to visit this fine establishment, could I?”

“Of course not,” Aemond sighed without turning around. “Nobody’s allowed to have anything to themselves that you wouldn’t seek to claim—especially not a woman.”

Ally looked from one brother to the other with mounting discomfort; she’d heard tales about Aegon’s philandering, and one look at his pleasant face and incongruously bright, charming smile convinced her that there had to be more than a mere kernel of truth in them.

He looked, moved, and spoke like a man who was sure to hold a claim over everything he saw and wanted—her blood ran cold, and her smile melted into a rictus of barely contained apprehension.

“What can I do for you?” she asked automatically.

“One of those delicious concoctions that haven’t even been added to the menu,” Aegon ordered with enviable, compelling confidence. “I like exclusivity. And…the answer to the question our sister wouldn’t ask outright. What do you think of our runt of the litter?”

“Beg your pardon?” Ally gasped, her hands stilling mid-air in utter shock.

Chapter Text

“Come, come,” Aegon laughed good-humouredly, evidently convinced that he was merely making pleasant, maybe even amusing, conversation despite the noticeable tightening of Aemond’s posture. “Nobody drinks quite that much coffee.”

“Unlike you, I don’t take extensive naps,” Aemond hissed. “I don’t comment on your daily intake of other beverages, do I?”

“I might have believed this clumsy subterfuge and let it slide, brother, if Helaena hadn’t told me how inordinately charming and sweet the girl behind the counter was,” Aegon shot back, unfazed by the open hostility in the other’s tone and demeanour.

“Nobody comes here to see me,” Ally croaked, desperate to interrupt the nascent fight bubbling just beneath the surface of the facetiously pleasant exchange. “Your drinks will be ready in a moment.”

“Ah, you sell yourself short.”

As she tried to focus on the soothingly familiar motions of preparing their beverages, Ally tried to ignore the harrowing fact that Aemond had neither confirmed nor denied the shocking accusations his brother had laid at his feet.

When she could put off facing them no longer, she took a deep, steadying breath and spun around on her heels slowly.

Upon meeting the third iteration of those uncannily beautiful eyes—so blue they looked positively violet—the true absurdity of her daydreams hit her like a fist to the gut.

“Ah!” Aegon smiled, a hint of shockingly innocent cruelty in his voice. “You’re finally seeing him for what he is, don’t you?”

While the background soundtrack changed to acoustic covers of sad love songs—indubitably a courtesy of her disgruntled co-worker—Ally remembered what Aemond had said just before his brother had swept into their illusory intimacy like a devastating storm.

He’d expressed the desperate, derisory desire to be anyone but himself for a few stolen moments.

This was not the moment to let the weight of his name and reputation tear down the dam of neutrality she’d erected with stubborn defiance and hopeful faith.

Blinking deliberately to wipe away any vestige of her nascent reverence and uneasiness, she forced herself to smile. “I always knew he was the very best customer we have,” she then said calmly.

Aegon started, eyes wide, full lips agape. “What a surprising development,” he exclaimed. “Does this mean that this taciturn terror has made his intentions known?”

Refraining from biting her lip guiltily, Ally held his probing gaze bravely. It took all the mental strength at her disposal not to buckle under the cold, searching beam scanning her face, but she was woefully used to being scrutinised and judged and welcomed the unexpected challenge.

“He’s been nothing but courteous,” she said in an uncharacteristically clipped tone. “Also, he’s managed to bring two new patrons to this place, if only to snoop. Nonetheless, any business is welcome here.”

“Quite so,” the elder of the less-than-universally popular men said in an alarmingly vague, distracted voice. “As so often, I’ve been too hasty, it seems. Had I only waited a little longer, I might have surprised dear Aemond in the process of trying to woo you.”

Afraid that she’d forget to breathe, Ally concentrated on the rhythmical rise and fall of her tight chest and kept her peace lest she make a complete fool of herself.

“Take your drink and go,” Aemond hissed. “You’ve achieved what you set out to do—we’re all thoroughly disconcerted by your antics. Nevertheless, the Lady has work to do and cannot entertain you any longer.”

Ally blinked rapidly—she’d never been granted so lofty a title, and she found that Aemond’s matter-of-fact tone and slightly stiff politeness inspired highly undignified thoughts and feelings in her.

With a last derisive scoff, Aegon paid for the drinks—leaving Ally a generous tip that felt oddly dirty—and left with the unnerving grace of one who knew himself to be the de facto winner of any spat, this one included.

“I’m sorry about him,” Aemond then said, lingering indecisively. “Please don’t pay his inane, malicious babbling any mind.”

“Of course,” Ally replied amiably, but—at long last—her fortitude failed. Her posture relaxed, and her shoulders drooped as the unbearable tension drained out of her body all at once, leaving her feeling weak and light-headed.

“Or…did you want him to be right?” Aemond said, bewitching intensity flaring in his lone eye. “Your words were kind but untruthful—I’ve not been in the least charming, and I am aware of it.”

“Nonsense,” Ally laughed. “You’re a delight. As far as I’m concerned, I’ve spoken true; you are my favourite regular.”

“Is that so? I was wondering.” He shrugged defensively. “I understand, of course, that the things that are said about me and mine are not conducive to even so much as basic sympathy, but...”

“I care nought about these things,” Ally assured him. “Then again, nobody likes to make a fool of themselves, and it would have embarrassingly presumptuous to…”

Rolling his untouched frappucino between his large palms, Aemond sighed. “If I let you write my name on the cup, would you add your number?”

As a beaming smile broke its way across her face, Ally shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she said. “There’s but one customer who’d be granted such a boon, and he’d never drink something like that.”

Aemond gave a questioning grunt, slamming his mistreated cup on the counter absent-mindedly.

“I’ll put my number on the next tall, black coffee,” she laughed. "How about it?"