Confrontation [D8, EA]

[Caim Feyther]

Caim’s heart was still pounding after the joust. Not with exertion, though he’d certainly done plenty of that. No, this was with rage. The anger itself and shame at the source of his anger. Jealousy. He’d seen the favor the dark-haired Tyrell knight had carried. It wasn’t just some lady’s ribbon. He’d seen the item when his sister was packing. Her garter, of all things! He’d watched the man’s matches, seen him kiss it, something that had been so close to her.

He’s been frustrated by the joust, but this was icing on the cake. If he had her favor, he must have talked to her… she must care about him to give him something so personal… maybe they had… All sorts of images conjured in this mind, but he tried to shake them away as he grit his teeth and marched over to her tent once the last of his armor was off, determined to confront her about it.

[Alicent Feyther]

Alicent was in her own tent, getting ready for her meeting – publically, finally – with Lorent. She’d checked herself, made sure she looked all right, and was shocked to turn around and see Caim’s tall form haunting the opening to her tent, his expression stiff and shuttered. She knew him well enough to recognize the signs of repressed anger. Had it been the joust? She'd been watching and knew he'd had a frustrating time during it, but why come to her?

"Caim, is something wrong?" She asked, walking toward him, wearing an expression of concern.

[Caim Feyther]

He unhooked the flap from the side of the doorway, let it fold closed behind him as he approached his much smaller sister. His anger at himself redirected and fed his anger toward her. “That knight… Ser Lorent Tyrell...” He still repressed it, tried to speak evenly. There was an edge to his voice, though.

[Alicent Feyther]

Alicent detected the edge of danger in his voice and knew something was wrong. Her brother had always been very protective of her. She'd been careful about some of what she had done because of how she thought he might react. What she saw in his face was a little worse than she expected and she swallowed a little, steadying herself and proceeding cautiously. "Ser Lorent? What about him?"

[Caim Feyther]

He gritted his teeth and snapped, "Why does he have your garter?" He was becoming edgy, feeling the tension in his arms and back.

[Alicent Feyther]

She couldn't help it, she took a step back from Caim. "He... he asked for my favor, and I didn't have a ribbon or anything..." She said, hesitantly. The pale-haired young woman tensed, ready to move away quickly if she had to. She didn't expect him to do anything. This was still the brother who'd looked after her the most, who'd protected her growing up. He wouldn't do anything too bad, right?

Unless he thought he was protecting her by doing it. The idea sent a chill down her spine. Maybe...

[Caim Feyther]

His hand snapped out and grabbed her wrist, squeezing with bruising strength, his grip like iron around the slender limb. "Don't walk away from me, Alicent," he ordered sharply. Why didn't she just go back to her tent and retrieve one? The mental images from before returned to his mind and he grit his teeth, feeling his heart in his throat. "What have you been doing with him? Have you been meeting with other men?"

[Alicent Feyther]

She couldn't respond. Not honestly. And she also could lie to him after all these years. The pain in her wrist was distracting her from coming up with anything decent, though... "Caim, let go...!" She pulled, but felt the bones in her wrist creak. "Please..."

[Caim Feyther]

"Stop avoiding the subject!" He snapped, voice rising for a moment before quieting down to a dangerous growl as he pulled her close to him, gripping her other arm by the upper arm. She only talked around things when she had something to hide. "I've done my best to protect you from everything and keep you close, and you go... sneaking around on me?"

[Alicent Feyther]

"I'm an adult, Caim! I need to find a husband!" She shot back, pain and anger coursing through her as well. She was as hot blooded as her looks implied, in both lust and temper, and she hated the control she'd lived under. Now he represented that. He couldn't talk to her like that! "Do you expect me to hide away in my pavilion? I'm my own person!"